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Her third gift was a set of paints and canvases which Nikolai brought her himself when he came to call on her at the Little Palace once more. He also brought pencils of varying strengths and shades, a sketchbook of fine paper, and a variety of brushes. The gifts were all of excellent quality, yet it was the thoughtfulness that moved her. His courting gifts, though they were a show, had never been given merely out of obligation.
Each time, it had been something he’d known she would love; a horse for riding, painting supplies, even the flowers he had sent her had been carefully arranged to remind her of their fateful first encounter. When he had eventually asked about her favorite flower, she had told him it was the blue iris, but that she actually thought his first bouquet was even more meaningful. The maids who swept her room had left a fresh one on her desk every week since…
“What exactly are we doing?” Alina asked in all seriousness as, shortly thereafter, she and Nikolai sat down for tea and finger sandwiches in the Darkling’s private parlor rather than in the main hall with the other Grisha.
It was part of their courtship somehow, though she couldn’t quite work out how it fit the rule to see and be seen, even if the Darkling himself had decided to sit with them as their chaperone. (She was not a minor, but at that moment he certainly seemed like the closest thing to a disapproving father she’d ever had.) She told Nikolai as much under her breath. He chuckled and sat down his teacup with the grand air of someone who was about to impart a pearl of wisdom on her. It made her roll her eyes preemptively, but this only served to make his grin cheekier.
“Having a gentleman caller is precisely about what is not seen,” he began, glancing at the general sitting within earshot yet slightly off to the side, as per tradition, while his smirk grew incrementally wider. “About the intimacy—” A grimace from said general brought forth a row of brilliant white teeth. “—of receiving someone in your home, a chaperone always present but unobtrusive. About everyone else never knowing, yet always talking about what we might have exchanged in private.”
“A chance for others to gossip about what improper topics of conversation you might be encouraging,” Alina guessed as she picked up her own teacup with deliberate primness, putting to use her recent lessons on courtly etiquette.
Genya might complain about the extra work morn, noon, and night — and she did — but she wouldn’t let Alina walk into the lion’s den unprepared. Meanwhile, Nikolai’s shark-like smile morphed into one of beaming pride, eyes shining with affection because she was learning.
“Or the scandalous concessions I might have persuaded you to grant me,” he agreed, allowing questing fingers to slip over her knee beneath the table.
The touch was barely there, and as obviously a tease as his proposition had been that first night, yet Alina still saw the Darkling twitch in his seat, ready to jump up and separate the two of them. Despite the little snort that escaped her when she became aware of it, it was not truly amusement that filled her. Like that night so long ago, she was gripped by a sudden and dark desire to call the prince’s bluff. Her cheeks flushed with both passion and embarrassment at her own wantonness. Alina looked down, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. Nikolai was not some stranger, not even the barely familiar white knight he’d been that night, whom she might tumble and leave behind. He was her friend, and this was a ruse.
He was only doing what was necessary to keep their lie alive… and perhaps a little more to mess with the Darkling, but he didn’t deserve to have her ill-treat him so, even just in her thoughts. When Nikolai’s hand retreated, she looked up again, only to swallow at the sight of his face. The mask he wore for their spectator seemed to have slipped somewhat. A soft, sumptuous darkness had spread over his face that she didn’t dare interpret, or else she might think that he wanted her to call his bluff.
“S-so wh-what do people actually do at these?” she asked, half stumbling over her words initially just to get them out.
Nikolai leaned back with a huff, letting himself sink morosely into his seat.
“Sit, drink tea, and talk about the weather, preferences, books, how many children we’d expect to have if we did get hitched…” He grimaced at her apologetically. “I’ve never actually courted someone before, but if I remember my lessons correctly, we’re supposed to make conversation. Get to know each other. Maybe write a few flowery love letters. Not now, obviously, but… in general.”
That sounded about as terribly boring to her as it clearly did to him.
“I think we can skip most of that,” Alina replied, tipping her finger playfully against her chin in a moment of mock consideration. When her friend cocked his head to the side for an explanation, she smirked back at him. “We already know each other pretty well, and we’ve written plenty of letters to each other, exchanging thoughts, emotions, our hopes and desires for the future.”
She heard the Darkling choke on his tea. The sound was pure gold.
“I suppose we could call those our love letters. After all, they led us here,” Nikolai added mischievously, extending a hand to her.
When she took it, he turned her hand around so he could stroke the back of it. Always so tactile…
“And we always make much more interesting conversation on our own,” she pointed out.
“Just as well. I have a reputation as a rake to uphold. So,” he began, and she knew by the look on his face that whatever he would say next would be designed solely to send their chaperone into cardiac arrest. Absurdly pleased with the notion, she found herself matching his wicked grin. “Shall we skip ahead and talk about producing heirs?”