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She knew what came now. A handful of earth. Another. I love you, she told him, trying not to think of the graceless sound of the soil, like the rattle of shrapnel, like sudden bursts of rain. I loved you.
“Yuri Vedenen, if you upset my wife again, I will kill you where you stand.” The monk swallowed. “Yes, moi soverenyi.” “Oh, David,” Genya said, taking his hand. “You’ve never threatened to murder anyone for me before.” “Haven’t I?” he murmured distractedly, placed a kiss on her knuckles, and continued reading.
“That squash is as wide as I am tall,” Nikolai said beneath his breath as he smiled and waved. “And twice as handsome.” “Half as handsome,” he protested. “Ah,” said Zoya, “but the squash doesn’t talk.”
Since Nikolai could not be important, he turned his clever mind to the task of becoming charming.
Mastermind tswift
Zoya’s hair was damp with perspiration, her shirt clung to her skin, and her grin was pure exhilaration—a smile he’d never seen from her before. Nikolai found his mood souring. He cleared his throat. “If you’re done trying to cleave my general in two, I have need of her.”
“No. We didn’t always agree.” She smiled, tasting salt on her lips. “In fact, we almost never agreed. But he loved me. And I loved him.”
She wished the girl she’d been could have lived this.
“Zoya of the lost city. Zoya of the broken heart. You could be so much more.”
