Silence stretched between them. Perhaps the floor will open and I’ll plummet to my death, he thought hopefully.

“As your general?” Her voice careful. She was offering him a chance to right the ship, to take them back to familiar waters.

And a fine general you are.

There could be no better leader.

You may be prickly, but that’s what Ravka needs.

So many easy replies.

Instead he said, “As my queen.”

He couldn’t read her expression. Was she pleased? Embarrassed? Angry? Every cell in his body screamed for him to crack a joke, to free both of them from the peril of this moment. But he wouldn’t. He was still a privateer, and he’d come too far.

“Because I’m a dependable soldier,” she said, but she didn’t sound sure. It was that same cautious, tentative voice, the voice of someone waiting for a punch line, or maybe a blow. “Because I know all your secrets.”

“I do trust you more than myself sometimes—and I think very highly of myself.”

Hadn’t she said there was no one else she’d choose to have her back in a fight?

But that isn’t the whole truth, is it, you great cowardly lump. To hell with it. They might all die soon enough. They were safe here in the dark, surrounded by the hum of the engines.

“I would make you my queen because I want you. I want you all the time.”

She rolled onto her side, resting her head on her folded arm. A small movement, but he could feel her breath now. His heart was racing. “As your general, I should tell you that would be a terrible decision.”

He turned onto his side. They were facing each other now. “As your king, I should tell you that no one could dissuade me. No prince and no power could make me stop wanting you.”

Nikolai felt drunk. Maybe unleashing the demon had loosed something in his brain. She was going to laugh at him. She would knock him senseless and tell him he had no right. But he couldn’t seem to stop.

“I would give you a crown if I could,” he said. “I would show you the world from the prow of a ship. I would choose you, Zoya. As my general, as my friend, as my bride. I would give you a sapphire the size of an acorn.” He reached into his pocket. “And all I would ask in return is that you wear this damnable ribbon in your hair on our wedding day.”

She reached out, her fingers hovering over the coil of blue velvet ribbon resting in his palm.

Then she pulled back her hand, cradling her fingers as if they’d been singed.