“And suffer alone? I think not.”
“Maybe for your birthday you can ask that he be fitted with a royal muzzle,” I suggested.
“But then we’d miss all his exciting stories about the summer auctions. You’re fascinated by the breeding superiority of the Ravkan racehorse, right?”
I let out a whimper. Mal was supposed to be on duty for Nikolai’s birthday dinner the following night. Maybe I could get Tolya or Tamar to take his place. Right now, I didn’t think I could handle watching him stand stone-faced at attention all night, especially not with Vasily yammering away.
“Be of good cheer,” said Nikolai. “Maybe he’ll propose again.”
I sat up. “How do you know about that?”
“If you recall, I did pretty much the same thing. I’m just surprised he hasn’t tried a second time.”
“Apparently I’m not easy to get alone.”
“I know,” said Nikolai. “Why do you think I walk you back from the Grand Palace after every meeting?”
“For my sparkling company?” I said sourly, annoyed by the twitch of disappointment I felt at his words. Nikolai was so good at making me forget that everything he did was calculated.
“That too,” he said. He lifted his foot out of the water and scrutinized his wiggling toes. “He’ll get around to it again, eventually.”
I sighed with exaggerated woe. “How does one say no to a prince?”
“You’ve managed it before,” Nikolai said, still contemplating his foot. “And are you so sure you want to?”
“You can’t be serious.”
Nikolai shifted uncomfortably. “Well, he is first in line for the throne, of pure royal stock, and all that.”
“I wouldn’t marry Vasily if he had a pet firebird named Ludmilla, and I couldn’t care less about his royal stock.” I peered at him. “You said the gossip about your bloodlines didn’t bother you.”
“I may not have been completely honest about that.”
“You? Less than truthful? I’m shocked, Nikolai. Shocked and horrified.”
He laughed. “I guess it’s easy to say it doesn’t matter when I’m away from court. But no one here seems to want to let me forget, especially my brother.” He shrugged. “It’s always been this way. There were rumors about me even before I was born. It’s why my mother never calls me Sobachka. She says it makes me sound like a mongrel.”
My heart gave a little pang at that. I’d been called plenty of names growing up.
“I like mongrels,” I said. “They have cute floppy ears.”
“My ears are very dignified.”
I ran my finger over one of the pier’s sleek planks. “Is that why you stayed away so long? Why you became Sturmhond?”
“I don’t know if there’s just one reason. I guess I never felt like I belonged here, so I tried to make a place where I could belong.”
“I never felt like I fit in anywhere either,” I admitted. Except with Mal. I pushed the thought away. Then I frowned. “You know what I hate about you?”
He blinked, startled. “No.”
“You always say the right thing.”
“And you hate that?”
“I’ve seen the way you change personas, Nikolai. You’re always what everyone needs you to be. Maybe you never felt like you belonged, or maybe you’re just saying that to make the poor, lonely orphan girl like you more.”
“So you do like me?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, when I don’t want to stab you.”
“It’s a start.”
“No it isn’t.”
He turned to me. In the half-light, his hazel eyes looked like chips of amber.
“I’m a privateer, Alina,” he said quietly. “I’ll take whatever I can get.”
I was suddenly aware of his shoulder resting against mine, the press of his thigh. The air felt warm and smelled sweet with the scent of summer and woodsmoke.
“I want to kiss you,” he said.
“You already kissed me,” I replied with a nervous laugh.
A smile tugged at his lips. “I want to kiss you again,” he amended.
“Oh,” I breathed. His mouth was inches from mine. My heart leapt into a panicked gallop. This is Nikolai, I reminded myself. Pure calculation. I didn’t even think I wanted him to kiss me. But my pride was still smarting from Mal’s rejection. Hadn’t he said he’d kissed plenty of girls?
“I want to kiss you,” Nikolai said. “But I won’t. Not until you’re thinking of me instead of trying to forget him.”
I shoved backward and lurched awkwardly to my feet, feeling flushed and embarrassed.
“Alina—”
“At least now I know you don’t always say the right thing,” I muttered.
I snatched up my shoes and escaped down the pier.
Chapter
20
I STAYED WELL CLEAR of the Grisha bonfires as I strode around the lakeshore. I didn’t want to see or talk to anyone.