A/N: I'm still waiting to get my hands on a copy of RoW, so some details may be off.

Chapter 1

Oh, how the tides of change worked more swiftly than the thousands of years required to erode a mountain. But then, humans were much more malleable. Now that Nikolai had abdicated the throne to Zoya the Dragon Queen, he was struggling to find his place in the new world order. There were plenty of titles for him flying around: "Demon Bastard" after he'd revealed the monster in battle; "Prince Consort" since his burgeoning relationship with Queen Zoya was not exactly a secret. He didn't really mind the latter, except for the taint the first title added to it, and thereby to Zoya by association. Her reign was new and untested, and Nikolai didn't want to have a negative impact on it.

If he were truly unselfish, he would tell her to find a better suitor, someone who could politically bolster her rule. But while he had always put Ravka's well-being and security above his own desires, he found it harder to do so now. He loved Zoya with all his being, and she had finally requited his feelings. He wanted to be with her, no matter what anyone thought. It was rather hypocritical of him, and he wasn't proud of it.

So he kept his distance, fading into the background like an ousted king should. But now he was faced with the all-too-familiar bedfellow of loneliness. Just like when he'd been nothing but the second son of the king, he was extraneous. Zoya had been understandably busy, as had Tamar still overseeing their intelligence network. And Tolya was captain of Zoya's guard now. Nikolai had…nothing to do.

He found himself outside David's workshop, which had been untouched since his death. Opening the door, Nikolai took a moment to just stand in the threshold and take in the space, remembering the Fabrikator bustling about with his various projects. In that, the two of them were alike, and Nikolai had enjoyed their brief collaborations, even if the projects had been to support the war efforts.

Nikolai perused the items and instruments. He wouldn't disturb them, but he cleared a small space at the end of the work table and dragged over some blank parchment. It had been a while since he'd been able to indulge this side of himself, the dreamer with whimsical aspirations rather than the strategist working on weapons of war.

He started from scratch, just sketching random things that came to mind, letting the flow of thought take him through various designs of "what if?" It felt good, and he was able to lose himself in it, not caring about the hour or passage of time. Until the door opened and Genya came in, only to pull up short.

"Nikolai," she said, startled.

He straightened and shot her an apologetic look. If anyone had the right to this space, it was her. "I'm sorry for intruding," he said contritely. "I was just looking for a quiet place to work."

"No, it's fine," she said, looking embarrassed. "I just…I sometimes come here to…feel close to him."

Nikolai nodded in understanding. "I can leave."

"No, please." She crossed the room. "What are you working on?"

"Just preliminary ideas," he replied, leaning back so she could look at the sketches.

She arched her brows at the man-made wings strapped to a figure's back. "You can already fly."

Nikolai shrugged. "It's just an idea. I might as well take what I've learned from the demon and make something of it." He sighed. "I have little else to contribute nowadays."

Genya gave him a sympathetic look, then roved her gaze around the work room. "I suppose this space will have to be cleared out and repurposed."

"It doesn't have to be," Nikolai said, then checked himself. "I'm sure Zoya wouldn't mind keeping it as is," he amended, since he no longer held the authority to make such decisions.

She shook her head. "It should be used. You should have it."

"Genya…"

"David would want you to."

Nikolai stopped, then nodded appreciatively. "A lot of this is Grisha work. If you wouldn't mind helping me go through it, we can make sure anything I can't use gets transferred to where it can be."

Her one good eye wavered with an upwelling of emotion, but she nodded in agreement.

"We'll keep a small station in memory of him," he added. "For both of us."

She gave him a watery smile. "I'd like that."

So they spent the next few days organizing the workshop and packing things away. Nikolai pushed a small desk against one wall and attached some shelves above and down the sides where they placed some of David's personal items and favorite tools. The things that most reminded them of him. Lastly, they set a candle in the center and lit it, then stepped back. Condensed like this in a respectful and purposeful manner, it felt more like David was with them in spirit, rather than a houseless ghost haunting the abandoned remains of his work space.

"Thank you," Genya said.

Nikolai reached out to touch her arm in comfort. "Come by any time."

He was alone again after that. Genya had her own work to attend to, and so Nikolai once more poured himself into his designs. Most of them were rubbish, but that was all part of the process of development. He went from idly considering the man-made wings to seriously planning a pair. The trick was how to control the apparatus—without fusing it to someone's back like the Shu kerghud. It was a puzzle that kept Nikolai occupied for many hours, which was fine by him; he needed something to divert his energy into.

"So this is where you've been hiding," Zoya's voice interrupted his deep state of thought one night. He hadn't even heard the door open.

He sat up straighter with a smile. "I haven't been hiding. I've just been…trying to stay out of the way."

Her mouth turned down at that, but she didn't respond and instead came over to look at his schematics. Like Genya, she arched a brow at the wing designs. "I don't know why I'm surprised."

"Why should we be the only two who get to enjoy the sensation of flight?" Nikolai said cheekily.

"Besides khergud and Squallers on parem?" she rejoined.

"I'd hardly say they get to enjoy it."

Zoya's expression turned serious, and she looked at him as though she wanted to reach out. "I haven't meant to push you away these past couple of weeks."

"You haven't," he assured her. "Becoming the new ruler of a country involves a lot of work and a steep learning curve. I've kept my distance so as to not interfere with that."

"I could use your help," she countered. "You know how to do all this."

Nikolai decided not to wait for her to take the initiative and reached out to slip his hand in hers. "You know all there is to know from watching me bumble my way through being king these past few years."

"You did not bumble."

He quirked a charming smile at her. "I was trying to be modest."

"I didn't know you were capable."

He smirked, then sobered to match the seriousness of her self-doubt. "Zoya, you are both stern and fair, the qualities needed in a ruler."

"I thought I was ruthless," she rejoined.

"When called for," he quickly riposted. He shifted on the stool to take both her hands in his. "The people love and respect you."

"For now," she said ruefully.

Nikolai dropped his gaze, knowing she was referring to how he'd had the public's love and respect…until the demon was brought to light. A dragon, they could stomach on the throne, even admire, but not a monster.

"And that is why I've stayed out of the way," he said.

Her eyes flashed with righteous ire. "The people need to learn you are still the man, the king, who gave everything for them. They need to learn you are not the monster they think they should fear, especially if you're going to stand at my side someday."

He nodded sagely and squeezed her hands. "I hope for that day, but we don't need to rush it right now."

He didn't say she might come to her senses and realize how much of a liability he was.

Silence lingered between them for a prolonged moment until Zoya eventually broke it.

"I'll let you get back to your work." She turned to leave.

"Zoya."

She paused to look back at him.

"I will always be here if you need me," he promised.

She gave him a small smile and nod.

"If you object to the wings," he went on, "I could always build a saddle for the dragon."

Her eyes flashed to silver slits. "Don't even think about it," she warned, but her deadly tone and glare merely made him grin.

"Good night, my ruthless queen."

Zoya rolled her eyes and left. Once she was gone, Nikolai felt a pang of longing for that future they both wanted but weren't sure could become a reality. There was nothing he could do about that right now, though, so he threw himself back into his work as a distraction. But he set aside the wing designs and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment to start on something he'd just gotten inspiration for.

Despite accepting the mantle of queen, Zoya was uncomfortable in her new role. Being a general was easy; she had clear goals and a framework in which to achieve them. She also had the temperament for it. Whereas being queen felt like she should have an aspect of…daintiness. Which she most certainly did not.

It seemed to be working out all right for now, though. The generals and court currently respected her based on the merits of her time leading the Second Army, maybe with a little dose of healthy fear for her dragon as well. It made wrangling them easier, though she did at least try to be a little charming for them, like Nikolai always could.

She missed having him in the room for all these meetings. She missed his dashing smile and the glances he would unabashedly throw her way. She understood why he was keeping his distance, and certain concerned members of the court had already brought up his demon more than once. Zoya had been quick to shut down their misgivings, fervently defending Nikolai's honor, and she made it clear to everyone that she would not have his integrity questioned after all that he had done for Ravka. Given the nervous fidgeting that had gone through that meeting, Zoya wondered if her eyes had briefly slipped into dragon form. It certainly lent power to her commands, though she didn't really want to lead by fear. That was General Kirigan's way. And yet Zoya could not lead by Nikolai's full charm and debonair diplomacy. No, she had to find her own way. If only she had a clear idea of what that looked like.

She finally got a moment to herself after weeks of endless duties and late nights, and she stole away to her garden. Somehow being queen had kept her more busy than a general leading an army during war had, and she expected her garden to have suffered from the neglect.

But to her utter surprise, she found it looking lush and pristine. There weren't even any weeds that she could see. She stood there for several long moments, flummoxed. Then Nikolai's head popped up from the back, and his cheeks pinked with embarrassment.

"Zoya. Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude upon your sacred space." He had some pulled weeds in his gloved hands. "I came to install a watering system, and I noticed things were a little overgrown, so I thought I would tidy it up a bit."

She blinked at him in befuddlement. "Watering system?"

He broke into a grin and came around to show her the copper pipes he'd installed along the ground through the beds. "It's a drip system," he explained. "So you won't have to worry about anything dying off when you're away or can't get out here; it will keep everything well-moistened."

Zoya was genuinely astonished. "Thank you."

He beamed at her. "I can help with the upkeep if you want," he offered tentatively. "I know how much you cherish this garden."

Zoya thought about it. It had been her own private space for so long, but Nikolai had done so much for it, for her. And while she may not be able to share her crown with him yet, she could share this. "Thank you," she repeated. "That would mean a lot to me."

His smile was reward enough, though their interlude was short-lived.

Royal duties called once again, and they never stopped. The war with Fjerda may have been at a standstill for the moment, but relations with them and Shu Han continued to stand on the edge of a knife. Zoya didn't see Nikolai for several days, and while she would deny it was having an effect on her mood, Genya and Tolya remarked more than once that she was getting cranky.

Then one day she found herself with an hour-long meeting in her schedule labeled only as "classified." Confused, she turned to Genya.

"Do you know what this is?"

Genya smiled knowingly. "I do. Come with me."

Piqued, Zoya followed her out of the palace and to the gate that led to her garden. Her brows furrowed when she saw Tamar and Nadia sitting just outside the gate, looking as though they were sharing a private rendezvous. But they both smiled in greeting at Zoya.

"We'll be standing 'guard' out here so you're not disturbed," Tamar said.

Zoya arched an intrigued brow and went inside. There, in the middle of her garden, Nikolai was waiting with a blanket and picnic basket spread out on the ground. She broke into a wide smile.

"Your Highness," he greeted with that boyish grin.

She strode over and took a seat on the blanket. He sat down beside her and began to unpack the basket.

"Did you prepare these pastries yourself?" she asked.

"Ah, no."

Zoya snorted. "So I finally found something you don't know how to do."

Nikolai raised a finger. "I didn't say I don't know how, only that I did not make these. In truth, I'm not exactly trusted in the kitchens after a certain incident. But at least the head chef still likes me, or I wouldn't have had much authority to request anything to be made special."

Zoya took a bite of the delicious pastry. "What incident is this?"

Nikolai grinned. "A story for another time. Right now I want to know how things are going with you in the present."

Zoya sighed and proceeded to tell him all the things he'd missed, even allowing herself to be vulnerable and express the areas she felt overwhelmed with. She half expected him to launch into a barrage of advice and what he thought she should do, but he didn't. He only gave her suggestions on how best to handle certain troublesome nobles.

"I know it's not your preferred method of communication, but stroking the man's ego every once in a while will gain you a lot."

Zoya scowled. The idea chafed her, but one thing she did know from watching Nikolai as king for so many years was that politics were just as much about appeasement as they were collaboration or leadership.

"And what invention are you working on now?" she asked when the former topic had run its course.

He let out a nervous half-smile. "I'm back on the wings."

Zoya rolled her eyes. "Why?"

"Why not?"

She shook her head. "I can just imagine how vulnerable the user would be in battle. The khergud only work because of their augmentations."

"You've been a general too long; not all inventions must be used for war. There are plenty of other applications: messengers could deliver correspondence faster; Healers could reach the scene of an accident as quickly as possible."

Zoya's lips quirked. "That does sound good."

Though she didn't say it, she loved the way his mind worked, always thinking, always examining things from different angles. She could do that with military campaigns, but outside of that…she felt her own scope of creativity was limited.

She really could use Nikolai as an advisor, but he was right; they would take their time. They'd waited this long to finally admit their feelings for each other, after all.

They finished their picnic, the hour passing all too quickly for Zoya's liking when Tamar poked her head in to call that their time was up.

Nikolai walked her to the gate and kissed her goodbye before she slipped out.

Tamar and Nadia looked pleased with themselves where they waited outside.

"Thank you," Zoya told them sincerely.

Had they attempted some matchmaking while she'd been General, she would have blown a gasket. But now, she found she appreciated—and needed—some intervention.

It wasn't easy being queen of a wounded nation.

Stealing moments with Zoya proved few and far between, even with Genya's help. Especially when a delegation from Fjerda arrived and Zoya had to commit her full attention to a negotiating summit with them. Nikolai yearned to be in the room. He was a master at navigating the intricacies of diplomacy. But he hadn't been invited, and he knew Zoya needed to stand on her own, show Ravka and Fjerda she was a strong, capable ruler. Let them all forget the demon lurking in their own backyard.

So Nikolai kept to his own devices in his workshop. Then late one evening, a note was slipped under his door.

"Meet me in the garden."

Grinning, Nikolai donned his coat and headed out. The immediate hallway was empty, so he had no idea who had left the message. Probably a servant running a quick errand for the queen. Nikolai made his way outside and through the gate to the garden. It was dark when he entered, and he had to fumble around in the dark for the lantern in the corner. He frowned as he looked around the empty space. Something must have waylaid Zoya. He hoped it wasn't serious enough to keep her away all night; he didn't know if she'd think to send someone to tell him not to wait up.

There was a faint noise behind him, and he turned to see if it was Zoya sneaking in to surprise him. What he found was his own visage looking back at him.

Nikolai frowned in confusion. "What is this?" Who had tailored a double for him and why?

His doppelgänger merely grinned, and there was a sinister gleam in his eye that set off warning bells in Nikolai's head. But before he could react, an arm grabbed him from behind and a chemically smelling cloth was pressed over his mouth and nose. His eyes blew wide as he bucked to get away, but the strong assailant held Nikolai pinned against him.

He tried to hold his breath, tried not to breathe in whatever chemical was soaked into the rag. But his imposter moved forward and punched him in the gut so hard it knocked the wind from his lungs. Nikolai was helpless as his body reflexively jerked and gasped for oxygen, thereby sucking in lungfuls of the sickly fumes. His vision began to darken, and he strained harder in panic. Who were these people and what did they want?

Nikolai's last frantic thoughts were of Zoya in danger as he finally passed out.