CHAPTER NINETEEN

Nichevo'ya

     Two outfits showed at her door a few bells before Nikolai's birthday dinner. She'd specifically asked not to be disturbed all that day, to get prepared for the night. To get her act together.

The first outfit was a shimmering silver dress with a plunging neckline and an open back. It flared out from the waist. The bodice had a corset set with aquamarine and morion gemstones.

The other was a silk kefta, also silver. It had gray and dark blue embroidery and it looked like it had been made personally for this formal event. A servant had been sent to her room with the outfits and claiming to be sent by the Queen to help her get ready. Estelle merely waved her away. She didn't need help to get ready, Star Summoner or not.

Estelle braided her hair, a complicated pattern of braids that weaved through each other until coming down to one large braid at the nape of her neck. Her hair alone took two bells. Deciding what to wear took half of that time.

On the one hand, the dress was beautiful. It shimmered in the light as Estelle turned when she tried it on. But it didn't feel right to wear something so distracting when it was supposed to be Nikolai's night.

Then there was the kefta. Also beautiful, also breathtaking. Whichever one she would wear, she was sure to bring attention to herself. The Star Summoner at the second prince of Ravka's birthday dinner? It was sure to turn many heads.

After trying both on about seven times each, Estelle knew which one was the better option. The kefta. It was time that she stopped trying to deny who she was and wore something that showed it.

Estelle put on the long garment over a pair of breeches and a long white shirt, tied with a sash. She buttoned up all the hidden buttons and smoothed the fur at the collar, then sat down at her vanity and fixed her braids.

Someone knocked at her door. Estelle stood, placing the last gem in her hair, and opened it. Nikolai stood outside, dressed in his formal blue and golden uniform. His hair was neatly combed and it looked like he had a hint of makeup on. He grinned at her.

"May I come in?" Nikolai asked.

Estelle chuckled, but turned to go back to her vanity, trusting he would close the door behind him. A moment later, she heard the soft click of it closing. "I'll be just a moment," she said. "Then I need to go down and check that everything for dinner is perfect."

Nikolai frowned. "Estelle, you don't need to do that. My parents took care of all that."

"I don't trust your parents, Nikolai," she told him, brushing on some blush to her cheeks. "Besides, I need to be prepared for what I'm going to see."

"Then I'll escort you down," he decided.

Estelle looked over at him. "No. You have to be surprised."

"I will be—"

"While the guests are there waiting for you," she interrupted. Estelle placed the brush down. "I'll come back to escort you down once it's time."

Nikolai stuttered, an uncommon sight. "Uh, I came to escort you."

"And I appreciate that, but I respectfully decline." Estelle stood in front of her full-length mirror and adjusted her kefta accordingly. "You may stay here if you'd like. Don't touch anything."

She smirked at his shocked expression as she made her way to the door, finally able to get a reaction out of him that satisfied her. For the longest time, he was the one shocking her. Now it was her turn to boss him around.

"You can't do this, it's my birthday," he called after her.

Estelle continued down the corridor, but she didn't hear his footsteps behind her. That put a seemingly-permanent grin on her face as she made her way down to the dining room.

It was being held in the Eagle's Nest, one of the dining chambers of the Grand Palace. It was grand, with a large table that seemed to only have just enough room for all the guests, high-ranking First Army generals and their wives, prominent Lantsov uncles, aunts, and cousins.

Estelle, after seeing that the chamber didn't have any risks of being displeasurable or dangerous, went to the kitchens. The cooks were cooking up a storm. Thirteen courses, she'd been told, were ordered to be prepared by the King and Queen. Though Nikolai asked that no hall be thrown for him, they either couldn't restrain themselves or hadn't listened to his request.

She had the head cooks list the thirteen courses and when they'd be served. She also made a mental note to check before dinner that the food hadn't been poisoned.

Once she was satisfied with everything, Estelle left to welcome guests. Most didn't come until it was actually time for the party to begin, but there were a few that were early. Estelle directed them to the dining room and once they began to come in droves, their horses and coaches polished and clean, Estelle brought someone else out to greet them while she went to get Nikolai.

When she got back to her room, she was surprised to find him still there. She thought he'd be bored out of his mind and he'd find something else to do somewhere else, but he sat on a chair with a clock in front of him. It looked like he was trying to take it apart and put it back together.

"Did you know that this thing is full of dust inside?" Nikolai told her, not bothering to look up at her.

"No, I haven't touched the thing," she said. "Ready?"

Nikolai squinted at something inside the opened clock. "Just a moment." He tweaked something with a small tool and sat back, admiring it. "Now it works."

Estelle frowned. "I...didn't know it hadn't worked before."

"No, it did," Nikolai explained, closing it up again, "but now it works better. Because of me. You're welcome."

He grinned and stood while wiping his hands on a rag. Estelle recognized it as one from her bathroom. "I didn't thank you," she pointed out.

"I know," he replied simply. "I'm ready. Who's arrived yet?"

Estelle opened the door and closed it behind them once Nikolai walked through, walking with him through the corridors. "I presume everyone's arrived already, we were supposed to begin just a few moments ago."

"They'll survive," dismissed Nikolai. "Was everything to your liking?"

She hummed. "It was. I'm positive you'll love how overboard your parents went with everything." With a chuckle, Estelle held her hands behind her. Nikolai rolled his eyes, but a smile was crooked on his face.

"I'm not surprised in the least."

"I'd be concerned if you were."

Their laughs echoed and it felt like old times again. They weren't in the Grand Palace anymore, they were on the deck of the Volkvolny, laughing at a stupid joke Nikolai made. The kind of joke Estelle's father would make just to see her mother's laugh, her smile.

As they got closer to the party, they could hear the sounds of mingling guests and their own conversations faded. Nikolai fixed his uniform once they reached the top of a grand staircase that would lead down to the dining room.

"How do I look?" he asked her.

"Like a prince on his birthday," replied Estelle, adjusting the cuffs on her kefta. "How long did it take to put on all of those?" She pointed to the medals pinned to his jacket.

Nikolai chuckled. "I didn't, they were put on for me."

"Oh, of course," she said, beginning the descent. "Are you ready?"

"Not nearly as I should be." He took a long, deep breath. "I hope this goes smoothly without anyone ruining it."

"There's a long list of those people," said Estelle. "Your brother."

"Mal."

"Your parents."

"Any one of those fortune-seeking relatives of mine."

"Alina."

"Speaking of, I'm sorry to continue to ask you to do this, but can you also keep an eye on Alina?" asked Nikolai. "Mal volunteered to go looking for the third amplifier. I'm sure she won't feel very attentive tonight."

Estelle sighed. "Yeah, no problem."

He didn't have a chance to respond when they reached the bottom of the staircase and walked into the crowded dining room full of guests who held glasses of champagne—and some who secretly drank whiskey instead.

A cheer went up as soon as Nikolai appeared and he disappeared into the throng. Many were still left to ogle at Estelle, until a general was brave enough to be the first to introduce himself to her.

The rest of the night seemed mostly uneventful, in the occasion that a bodyguard would have to be needed. Estelle met just about every guest before dinner even started, most of whom only wanted a light show. On the spot, she had to give a bull excuse as to why she couldn't—something about needing plenty of space and that there was no possible way for her to do it that night.

Then dinner began. Estelle was seated on Nikolai's right at center table, Alina on his other side. The room was loud and crowded with every guest in attendance. Every course was the same as the ones she was given a meal tour of before people began to arrive. Each was just as overly lavish as the last, though each plate only had a few bites on it.

Then when the time for gifts came, every guest brought at least one expensive item, if not three. It was their prince's twenty-first birthday, after all.

There were numerous toasts and Nikolai must've said "Thank you" or "This all is really not necessary" about forty times. Estelle noticed all the looks he was given, all the gifts she took a mental note of. She was starting to feel more like a guardian "saint" by the minute.

One thing she couldn't stop feeling threatened by was Vasily. His confidence, his smugness, it was much more elevated than usual. It was suspicious. He could have also been very drunk, but something just didn't feel right.

Her suspicions were confirmed as Vasily stood up, his glass raised like he was about to make a toast. They'd just been served the flavored ices. Estelle was actually starting to enjoy the party a bit. Her mood was ruined instantly, and Nikolai nudged her arm, sending her a side grin and a small eye roll.

"Brother," he said, "it is good to be able to toast your birth this day and to celebrate with you when you have spent so long on other shores. I salute you and drink to your honor. To your health, little brother!"

"Ne zalost!" the guests shouted in symphony, drinking from their glasses and resuming their conversations.

But Vasily wasn't finished. He tapped the side of his glass with his fork to obtain the guests' attention once more. "Today, we have more to celebrate than my brother's noble birth."

Definitely suspicious. The smirk, the way he phrased whatever he said, Estelle didn't like it. Nonetheless, Nikolai continued to smile pleasantly.

"As you all know," Vasily said, "I've been traveling these past few weeks."

An equally-drunk general chortled, "And no doubt spending. Have to build yourself a new stable soon, I suspect."

Vasily glared at him, hard. It nearly gave Estelle satisfaction. "I did not go to Caryeva. Instead, I journeyed north on a mission sanctioned by our dear father."

Nikolai went still.

"After long and arduous negotiations, I am pleased to announce that Fjerda has agreed to join us in our fight against the Darkling. They have pledged both troops and resources to our cause."

"Can this be?" asked one of the noblemen.

Vasily's chest swelled with impossible pride. "It can. At long last and through no small effort, our fiercest enemy has become our most powerful ally."

The room burst into excited conversation, interrupted by the King's shouts of "Ne Ravka!" as he beamed and embraced Vasily. The guests cheered the phrase together.

Among the excitement, it still didn't sit right with Estelle. Clearly, it didn't with Nikolai, either. He had a frown on his face, the very same he always wore when he was trying to figure out a puzzle or piece of machinery he'd been working on. Like with her clock.

"An extraordinary achievement, brother. I salute you," Nikolai said, lifting his glass. "Dare I ask what they wanted in return for this support?"

"They do drive a hard bargain," Vasily said with an indulgent laugh. "But nothing too onerous. They sought access to our ports in West Ravka and requested our help policing the southern trade routes against Zemeni pirates. I imagine you'll be of some assistance with that, brother."

Estelle rolled her eyes at his unbelievably warm chuckle.

"They wanted a few of the northern logging roads reopened, and once the Darkling is defeated, they expect the cooperation of the Sun Summoner—and the Star Summoner—in our joint efforts to push back the Fold."

He grinned at Estelle and Alina. Alina gave her attempt at a dignified nod, while Estelle settled for simply staring at him.

"Which roads?" asked Nikolai.

Vasily waved his hand dismissively. "They're somewhere south of Halmhend, west of the permafrost. They're sufficiently defended by the fort at Ulensk if the Fjerdans get any ideas."

Nikolai stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the parquet floor. "When did you lift the blockades? How long have the roads been open?"

Vasily shrugged. "What difference—"

"How long?"

"A little over a week," Vasily said. "Surely you're not concerned that the Fjerdans intend to march on us from Ulensk? The rivers won't freeze for months, and until then—"

"Did you ever stop to consider why they might concern themselves with a logging route?"

Estelle let out a shallow breath, covering her mouth with her hand.

Vasily gave a disinterested wave. "I assume because they're in need of timber," he said. "Or maybe it's sacred to one of their ridiculous woodsprites."

There was nervous laughter around the table.

"It's defended by a single fort," Nikolai snapped.

"Because the passage is too narrow to accommodate any real force."

"You are waging an old war, brother. The Darkling doesn't need a battalion of foot soldiers or heavy guns. All he needs are his Grisha and the nichevo'ya. We have to evacuate the palace immediately."

"Don't be absurd!"

"Our one advantage was early warning, and the scouts at those blockades were our first defense. They were our eyes, and you blinded us. The Darkling could be mere miles from us by now."

Vasily shook his head sadly. "You make yourself ridiculous."

Nikolai slammed his hands down on the table. The dishes jumped with a loud rattle. "Why isn't the Fjerdan delegation here to share in your glory? To toast this unprecedented alliance?"

Estelle stood as well, glancing around the dining room for threats.

"They sent their regrets. They were not able to travel immediately, due—"

"They're not here because there's about to be a massacre. Their pact is with the Darkling."

"All of our intelligence puts him in the south with the Shu."

"You think he doesn't have spies? That he doesn't have his own operatives within our network? He laid a trap that any child could recognize, and you walked right into it."

Vasily's face turned purple with embarrassment.

"Nikolai, surely—" the Queen objected.

"The fort at Ulensk is manned by a full regiment," one of the generals offered.

"You see?" said Vasily. "This is fearmongering of the worst kind, and I will not stand for it."

"A regiment against an army of nichevo'ya? Everyone at that fort is already dead," said Nikolai, "sacrificed to your pride and stupidity."

Vasily's hand went to his sword hilt. "You overreach, you little bastard."

Their mother gasped.

Nikolai released a harsh laugh. "Yes, call me out, brother. A lot of good it will do. Look around this table," he said. "Every general, every nobleman of high rank, most of the Lantsov line, the Sun Summoner, the Star Summoner. All in one place, on one night."

A number of faces at the table went pale and went silent.

"Perhaps," said a freckle-faced boy across the table, "we should consider—"

"No!" said Vasily, his lip trembling. "This is his own petty jealousy! He cannot stand to see me succeed. He—"

The warning bells began to ring, then, getting louder in succession. A loud alarm that only made the rising threat in the room a reality. An ambush.

"You've handed him Ravka," said Nikolai.

Guests stood in a scramble, pushing away their chairs from the table in panic.

"Idiot," breathed Estelle, glaring at the red-faced oldest Lantsov.

She couldn't hear anything else over the loud noise in the dining room that had risen up in the hysteria.

Then the windows exploded. Glass shattered all around them. Guests screamed, huddling against each other. Estelle threw her arms up to protect her face and she knelt down nearly under the table.

Nichevo'ya swarmed into the room, a mass of black creatures that were a mix between volcra and just shadows. Estelle's breaths came out in pants as she let her arms fall to her sides, staring at the disgusting things. She'd never seen them, but Alina had described them to her plenty of times.

"Get the King to safety!" shouted Nikolai, unsheathing his sword and running to his mother.

But nobody but him could move. Everyone was frozen in terror.

A shadow soldier lifted the freckled boy and threw him against the wall. He slid to the ground, his eyes lifeless. Estelle stifled a horrified scream.

Alina raised her hands, but she wavered. The room was too crowded to risk using the Cut.

Vasily still stood at the table, the King cowering beside him.

"You did this!" he screamed at Nikolai. "You and the witches!"

He lifted his saber high and charged, bellowing with rage. Mal stepped in front of Alina, raising his sword to block the blow. But before Vasily could bring down his weapon, a nichevo'ya grabbed hold of him and tore his arm from its socket, sword and all. He stood for a moment, swaying, blood pumping from his wound, then dropped to the floor in a lifeless heap.

The Queen began to shriek hysterically. She shoved forward, trying to reach her son's body, feet slipping in his blood as Nikolai held her back.

"Don't," he pleaded, wrapping his arms around her. "He's gone, Madraya. He's gone."

Another pack of nichevo'ya descended from the windows, clawing their way toward Nikolai and his mother.

Taking a chance, Alina stepped forward and brought her arms down in two arcs, the Cut coming in two blazing arches. They cut through two of the monsters,