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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE ▪▫▪▫▪
NIKOLAI LANTSOV REMEMBERED SEEING HIS FATHER ON THE THRONE; lying on the chair, a glass in his hand, his face turned up to the help, his shirt nearly bursting from a well-nursed stomach. He remembered thinking being a king was easy, it was all about parties and lounging about, and he would not want that for a second of his life.
But being a king wasn't going to be easy. Not when Nikolai wanted to make a difference. Not when he wasn't a Lantsov. Not when Nikolai couldn't shake the unease gnawing at him, the lurking feeling deep within him like shadows.
Nikolai's jaw clenched, and he took a deep breath as he looked at the mirror in his room, rolling back his shoulder with a hiss, before shoving the pain away and straightening his clothes, golden embroidered, proper for a king.
There was a knock on his door, and Nikolai glanced over his shoulder, saying, "Come in," before glancing back at the mirror.
Through the reflection, his eyes met those of the Apparat, as he walked inside the room after his guards opened the doors. "You are expected shortly for the processional," he said shortly.
Nikolai nodded as he straightened his jacket again, "I'll be there straight away. Suppose I am the guest of honor." Raising his eyebrows as the Apparat kept standing by the doorway, Nikolai turned to him, "Any words of advice from your time ruling in my family's stead?"
The Apparat pursed his lips, "Some might have cautioned you against staging this celebration on the night of Hringkälla. The most notable Fjerdan festival."
"And some might call it a strong opening salvo," said Nikolai with a small, forced, grin. "What should I call you? Certainly, Apparat is not your birth name. You look very much like a Lev," he added, turning back to the mirror.
"You are drawing a line in the sand," said the Apparat taking a step closer. "You are demanding to know who has Ravka's back based on the attendance list."
Nikolai nodded, "That's the general plan. Yes."
"And you will face scrutiny. Distrust. Could lead to further problems," the Apparat said and Nikolai turned to look at him again, his jaw tightened, keeping his emotions at bay as the Apparat looked at him like he was dirt on his shoe, like he was the worst thing that could've happened to Ravka. " For instance, your claim to the throne might be called into question."
Nikolai forced a smile, "Any other optimistic words of advice? Leonid?"
"Without having the Sun Saint as your general, you would not have made it this far. You're lucky your betrothed is being considered by the people something close to a Saint, or else, that would've been the last drop." The Apparat scoffed. "You're only as strong as the Sun Saint. As your Dawn Summoner—well, as long as the people don't find her to be a fraud, an abomination."
