“We were in the middle of a dance when he muttered something about nose cones and vanished. It was very romantic.”

“David danced?”

“I know! He whispered the count beneath his breath and stepped on my toes more than the floor.” Her grin could have lit the entire ballroom. “I’ve never had more fun. And to think I had a queen at my wedding.”

“And a king,” Nikolai said with false indignation.

She waved him off. “You’re old news. Her gown was just divine.”

“I’m fairly sure she wanted to murder us all.”

“That’s just what weddings are like. When can we hope to hear from Tamar?”

“We received word of their arrival and their meeting with Makhi’s ministers. Beyond that…”

Who knew what lay ahead of them? A hope for alliance. A chance at peace.

By midnight, the party had begun to wind down, noblemen stumbling blearily to their carriages, Grisha meandering back to the Little Palace, singing and laughing. The candles were extinguished and Nikolai retired to his quarters to look over the correspondence that had arrived with that afternoon’s messenger. He would have liked nothing better than to go to bed and call the day a success, but his plans had only just begun to come together, and there was still so much to do.

The sitting room felt empty and too silent. He was used to spending this time with Zoya, talking through the day’s events. When there were two of them to face their battles, it didn’t feel so overwhelming, and tonight that feeling was worse than usual. It wasn’t just that they’d thrust themselves into the unknown with this false wedding and their play to win the Shu to their side. The demon had almost broken free today. Nikolai had nearly lost control, and he still wasn’t sure what had caused it or if it might happen again. He’d managed to leash the cursed thing, but he’d felt like he’d had one hand on the reins all night. He was almost afraid to fall asleep. Maybe it was safer not to.

He rang for tea. He’d spend the night working.

It was Tolya who brought the tray. He’d abandoned his red kefta and changed back into his olive drab uniform. “I can’t sleep.”

“We could play cards,” suggested Nikolai.

“I’ve been working on a new poem—”

“Or we could shoot ourselves out of a cannon.”

Tolya’s glower was ferocious. “A bit of culture wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I have no objection to culture. I’ll have you know I’ve fallen asleep at some of the very best ballets. Pour a cup for yourself.” As Tolya poured, Nikolai asked, “Tolya, Tamar found the girl of her dreams. How is it you’re still alone?”

Tolya shrugged his huge shoulders. “I have my faith, my books. I’ve never wanted more.”