King of Scars (King of Scars, #1)

by Leigh Bardugo

“It’s not exciting if nothing can go wrong.”

“Of course,” she said. “Matthias, your country can kiss my fat Grisha ass.”

Had Trassel come to find the boy he’d loved, to be united with him even in death?

“We should send him to Ketterdam to preach to Kaz Brekker and the rest of those reprobates,” suggested Zoya. Nikolai winced. “He’d certainly get his martyrdom.”

“I suppose the secret is that I cannot stand being alone.” He uncorked the concoction. “But there are some places no one can go with us.”

Hope was the wind that came from nowhere to fill your sails and carry you home.

He took her hand, pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “My ruthless Zoya, I’ll load the gun myself.”

Zoya was surprised to find she liked seeing Alina’s name on churches, liked hearing it spoken in prayers. Ravka had given too much of its love to men like the Darkling, the Apparat, even the Lantsov kings. They owed a little of it to an orphan girl with no dress sense.

“Let go of me,” she seethed. “Where is the shrine to my aunt? To Saint Harshaw? To Sergei or Marie or Fedyor? Who will worship them and light candles in their names?”

But I need you to come back to me. I need my general beside me now.”

“No mourners,” she whispered, and launched herself through the broken glass.

“Eat, Your Highness.” “Everything tastes like doom,” he whispered. “Then add salt.”

Nikolai clapped his hands together. “Now, are we ready to figure out how to kill me?”

“But it’s a very arduous path,” Nikolai said. “Who will carry my snacks?”

“We beat the Darkling once before.” “Alina beat him,” corrected Zoya. An expression of distaste crossed Elizaveta’s face. “The Sun Saint,” she sneered. “How desperate the people are for miracles. How low they will stoop.” Nikolai saw Zoya’s eyes narrow and laid a hand on her arm. They weren’t here to champion Alina’s legacy.

“I’m fairly sure you’re trying to frighten me,” said Nikolai, reaching out a finger to touch the tip of the thorn. “I’m not sure why, but may I suggest a spider wearing a suit?” “Why a suit?” asked Zoya, frowning. “Why not just a spider?” “Where did he get the suit? How did he fasten the buttons? Why does he feel the need to dress for the occasion?”

Tolya put his hand to his heart. “We chose Alina. We chose Nikolai. All of this”—he gestured to the palace grounds—“means nothing.”

“Not like a gentleman hunts. But Nikolai was never much for the sport anyway. He has a fondness for foxes.

What would she have done without Inej to give her purpose? Or Jesper to make her laugh? Even that little bastard Kaz had done his part, ruthless to the last. She’d needed all of them to keep her going in those long, merciless days as she fought her way back to herself.

What’s the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet? Kaz Brekker had once explained. Tell him you’re going to steal his watch.

“I’m trying to do the responsible thing. I think it’s giving me indigestion.”

Zoya looked away again. “I suppose the world would be less interesting without you in it. I wouldn’t let myself be drowned in amber for just anyone, you know.”

Zoya pushed a dark strand of her hair behind her ear. “So I told him the truth. I put my chin up and said, ‘They can all hang. It was my blood in the snow.’”

“The more I know of you,” he said, “the more I am sure you are exactly what Ravka needs.”