Reign of Darkness (The Prince's Assassin #2) - Ariana Nash Page 0,12
was nearby.
Niko grabbed the armchair by the bed and dragged it to the window, then shrugged off the swords, rested them against the chair, and settled into its embrace. From that position, he watched the door.
He didn’t have long to wait.
The door opened with an aged creak. Vasili strode in and came to an abrupt halt. He lifted his chin like he did every time he was about to launch into some lashing remark.
He’d lost the fancy clothes somewhere and wore plain trousers, knee-high boots, and a billowing white shirt, the kind with ruffles at the open V-neck. A make-do patch of grey fabric covered his scarred eye. The plain clothes did little to diffuse his royal air of superiority.
“You knew I’d come,” Niko said. His voice scratched, made rough by smoke and exhaustion. “You knew I’d come to this tavern. That’s why you’re here in this one, instead of the half a dozen others nearby.” Of course he fucking knew. If the guard hadn’t mentioned Amir, Niko might even have thought Vasili sent them, just to make damned sure he had nothing left either, and of course he’d trudge after Vasili, like the faithful dog he was.
Vasili stepped to the side, heading toward a sideboard. Did he have a blade stashed inside? “What happened?”
Niko gripped the chair’s arms beneath his fingers. “Guess, Your Highness. Look at the blood and smell the smoke, and fucking guess what happened.”
Vasili turned his back on Niko—a dangerous thing to do considering he must have sensed how Niko itched to spring from the chair and deliver the kind of justice he should have given Vasili long ago.
Glass chinked, and when Vasili turned around again, he held two drinks.
The prince approached, boots striking the floor. Stopping in front of Niko, he offered a glass.
Niko swallowed. His throat was parched. He’d stopped to drink from a stream only once. But taking the drink seemed an acceptance, like admitting nothing had changed. Vasili still stood over him, wielding all the control, and Niko still looked up to him.
Vasili stiffened again, tilted his head, and then set the glass on the bedside table, within Niko’s reach. He sipped his own drink, eyeing Niko over the glass. His gaze dropped to the bloody blades leaning against the chair and then back to Niko’s face.
“I didn’t know you’d come. I chose this tavern because it’s the only place I know outside of Loreen.”
“Fucking liar.”
“What is it you think I’ve done, Nikolas? I did not burn your cottage. I did not force you to ride south. What terrible crime have I committed to earn your ire?”
“Would you like a fucking list?” He wasn’t going to voice all the ways in which Vasili had screwed him. The prince knew them all, he just wanted to hear them be acknowledged.
“Had you stayed in the palace, this would never have happened,” Vasili said, sounding like a brat who hadn’t gotten his own way.
“Stayed?” Niko frowned. “Nothing could have made me stay. Fire was too good an end for that place. I’m glad it’s ashes.” Niko pushed from the chair, scooped up the drink, and downed it in one. It burned, but in a way that warmed his empty soul. Knowing the palace was probably a ruin relieved some of the weight from his shoulders. He’d been living in its shadow all year. But at least he hadn’t been living in it. Vasili had. “Did you burn the palace?”
“Why would I?”
“Because the damn place is cursed.”
“The people are cursed.”
Niko held the prince’s glare. Vasili gave nothing away, just stared back, as emotionless as a rock. He hadn’t denied it, though.
Striding around the prince, Niko grabbed the wine bottle and poured himself a fresh glass. He downed it in a single gulp. Vasili could have set the fire, but so could any one of the remaining Cavilles, and did it really matter? The palace was gone, and so was his cottage.
Vasili watched him warily. He’d eased to the side, keeping the door within sprinting distance.
Niko wasn’t going to hurt him. He’d liked the idea of it, but now he was here, hurting Vasili changed nothing from the past, and there’s where all the pain truly came from. Now the anger had waned, he was just bone tired.
He approached the prince and raised his glass. “To destroying your prick of a brother.” The third glass went down as smoothly as the first. Vasili silently observed and judged and despised, like he always had.