Siege and Storm (Shadow and Bone #2)(46)

“That wasn’t an insult. It was a challenge,” he said. “Know the difference.”

Weakness is a guise. Wear it when they need to know you’re human, but never when you feel it.

Don’t wish for bricks when you can build from stone. Use whatever or whoever is in front of you.

Being a leader means someone is always watching you.

Get them to follow the little orders, and they’ll follow the big ones.

It’s okay to flout expectations, but never disappoint them.

“How am I supposed to remember all of this?” I asked in exasperation.

“You don’t think too much about it, you just do it.”

“Easy for you to say. You’ve been groomed for this since the day you were born.”

“I was groomed for lawn tennis and champagne parties,” Nikolai said. “The rest came with practice.”

“I don’t have time for practice!”

“You’ll do fine,” he said. “Just calm down.”

I let out a squawk of frustration. I wanted to throttle him so badly my fingers itched.

“Oh, and the easiest way to make someone furious is to tell her to calm down.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or throw my shoe at him.

Outside the coach, Nikolai’s behavior was getting more and more unnerving. He knew better than to renew his marriage proposal, but it was clear that he wanted people to think there was something between us. With every stop, he grew more bold, standing too close, kissing my hand, pushing my hair back over my ear when it was caught by a breeze.

In Tashta, Nikolai waved to the massive crowd of villagers and pilgrims that had formed by a statue of the town’s founder. As he was helping me back into the coach, he slipped his arm around my waist.

“Please don’t punch me,” he whispered. Then he yanked me hard against his chest and pressed his lips to mine.

The crowd exploded into wild cheers, their voices crashing over us in an exultant roar. Before I could even react, Nikolai shoved me into the shadowy interior of the coach and slipped in after. He slammed the door behind him, but I could still hear the townspeople cheering outside. Mixed in with the cries of “Nikolai!” and “Sankta Alina!” was a new chant: Sol Koroleva, they shouted. Sun Queen.

I could just see Mal through the coach’s window. He was on horseback, working the edge of the crowd, making sure they stayed out of the road. It was clear from his stormy expression that he’d seen everything.

I turned on Nikolai and kicked him hard in the shin. He yelped, but that wasn’t nearly satisfying enough. I kicked him again.

“Feel better?” he asked.

“Next time you try something like that, I won’t kick you,” I said angrily. “I’ll cut you in half.”

He brushed a speck of lint from his trousers. “Not sure that would be wise. I’m afraid the people rather frown on regicide.”

“You’re not king yet, Sobachka,” I said sharply. “So don’t tempt me.”

“I don’t see why you’re upset. The crowd loved it.”

“I didn’t love it.”

He raised a brow. “You didn’t hate it.”

I kicked him again. This time his hand snaked out like a flash and captured my ankle. If it had been winter, I would have been wearing boots, but I was in summer slippers and his fingers closed over my bare leg. My cheeks blazed red.

“Promise not to kick me again, and I’ll promise not to kiss you again,” he said.

“I only kicked you because you kissed me!”

I tried to pull my leg back, but he kept a hard grip.

“Promise,” he said.

“All right,” I bit out. “I promise.”

“Then we have a deal.”

He dropped my foot, and I drew it back beneath my kefta, hoping he couldn’t see my idiotic blush.

“Great,” I said. “Now get out.”

“It’s my coach.”

“The deal was only for kicking. It did not prohibit slapping, punching, biting, or cutting you in half.”

He grinned. “Afraid Oretsev will wonder what we’ve gotten up to?”

That was exactly what I was worried about. “I’m concerned that if I’m forced to spend another minute with you, I may vomit on my kefta.”

“It’s an act, Alina. The stronger our alliance, the better it will be for both of us. I’m sorry if it puts a burr in Mal’s sock, but it’s a necessity.”

“That kiss wasn’t a necessity.”

“I was improvising,” he said. “I got carried away.”

“You never improvise,” I said. “Everything you do is calculated. You change personalities the way other people change hats. And you know what? It’s creepy. Aren’t you ever just yourself?”

“I’m a prince, Alina. I can’t afford to be myself.”

I blew out an annoyed breath.

He was silent for a moment and then said, “I … you really think I’m creepy?”

It was the first time he’d sounded less than sure of himself. Despite what he’d done, I actually felt a little sorry for him.

“Occasionally,” I admitted.

He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Then he sighed and shrugged. “I’m a younger son, most likely a bastard, and I’ve been away from court for almost seven years. I’m going to do everything I can to strengthen my chances for the throne, and if that means courting an entire nation or making moon eyes at you, then I’ll do it.”