Iridescent

Chapter 16

Nikolai

Time was about the last the thing I had left to bargain.

But I couldn't think about that when I looked at her.

Reading the fear in her eyes and trying to administer the requests she had thrown towards me, I had to keep one foot where she would let me have it.

"Thank you," She whispered, and my chested lifted with a breath, seeing her shoulders relax a bit. Her hands released from the fists, and I wasn't sure she realized that they had tightened that much in our conversation.

I wanted to reach out and try to comfort, but I knew that I broke that trust when I kissed her.

I wish I knew before I kissed her.

As she closed her eyes for a moment, I ran a hand over my face, my eyes getting a little heavier in the silence.

Her mouth opened and closed, promising words, but she only took in breath.

I'd be scared of me too.

I stayed there until her eyes tired and her breaths were deepened with sleep. Her hand slacked and I saw the stubborn furrow in her brow smooth. Slowly reaching towards the tattered ribbon in her hair, I pulled gently, carefully taking the braid out. I moved towards the water and cloth that a maid left in the rush of getting her blankets and carefully brushed it along her face. I kept my touch as soft as I could—trying to mimic the way mother would clean my face when I was younger.

If she wasn't so stubborn, I would be able to save her. Just like that.

She moved a bit and I decided that I had gotten enough dirt off her face for the time being and put the cloth back into the warm water.

"Enjoy it while it lasts," A small voice said and I nearly jumped off the bed, seeing a maid and Stasia's mother come into the room. Slowly standing, in efforts not to wake her, I looked towards the maid as her gaze traced over Stasia's sleeping body, "She is only peaceful when she sleeps."

I smiled, looking back at Stasia and then found my eyes trailing back to her mother, who stayed by the door, worrying from afar. There were circles under her eyes, but I could see the weakness that told me it wasn't just sleep. I guess this time, she could hide it a little better with Stasia's accident.

"I am sorry," The words fell out of my mouth.

Her eyes were startled as she switched her gaze to me, realizing that I was speaking to her. Even the maid looked between us, confused. "Oh, there's nothing you could have done more, Prince Nikolai—she is a handful as is. Don't go on blaming yourself for her." The maid collected the water and the cloth and excused herself from the room and I heard her close the suite door. Regina moved closer, walking to the other side of the bed, and folded the blanket further up Stasia's body—and I could see a tremble in her hand as she did it. "Thank you for sitting with her."

I didn't want to make her uncomfortable, but I wanted to let her know that I didn't tolerate his actions.

"I know how he treats you, Regina," I kept my voice low, not wanting to wake Stasia. Regina's body stiffened immediately and everything in her stature spoke to the fear that she had been hiding all along.

She looked up at me, and her words were much different than the ache in her eyes, "I-I don't know what you're—"

"I saw it," I felt my voice break a little, remembering how he changed and snapped too quickly. When he heard Stasia unwisely rode into a storm and gotten hurt—he rushed out of the lounge, set on finding Regina.

He didn't realize that I was close behind him.

"She is never going to know that pain," I promised her. "I'll make sure of it."

Regina swallowed, and let the tears spill for a moment, looking down at Stasia as she whispered, "I d-don't know w-what to say."

"I am sorry that I didn't do anything," I spoke, feeling that familiar anchor pulling the sickening feeling through my stomach.

She shook her head, trying to pull her lips up into a smile, "You couldn't have done anything—don't blame yourself."

I could have. I could have been something for Regina in that moment—showed that chivalry wasn't false or dead. Showed her what a true person or man was capable of. But I froze. I fell into being a coward and hearing Stasia's words cut through my ears only made the guilt rake at my throat.

This is not about me wanting you to say the right thing.

A flash of my father standing in front of me red with anger tugged at my mind.

Cowards don't make Kings.

Her fear was not mine and mine was not hers—but I knew fear all too well. In a moment when I could have been the right thing, when I could have done something, I stood there and watched.

And here I was, trying to prove something—for her, for me, for my father—that I was capable of being something more than a coward. That my maturity was not fleeting on a ship somewhere and I can fill Jamison's shoes enough and play the part so he can live his.

This was certainly not what Father planned for—for me or Irklian.

But there was no room for faking promises anymore.