Defendrelor:

defendrelor​:

THE SCAR ON HIS CHEST RUNS DEEP just like his injures. A furrow on the otherwise immaculate skin - finer lines of former wounds only complimenting his light skin, a slivery trace of faded events, faded memories, faded pain. He couldn’t shake off the agony of his most recent brush with death however, not physically, not mentally. He wanted to sob and weep and burry his head in Nikolai’s lap. Wanted to whine and cry about how much his chest hurt. What he’d give for a small vial of painkillers. Or the COMFORT of Kolya’s arms. Both - both would be an impossibility to achieve. He was meant to DIE for his king and yet he LIVED. In those fleeting twilight moments he’d spent lying in Nikolai’s arms, bleeding out on the floor, he’d have never died more proudly for him. He’d never been more glad to be the one with a DAGGER in his heart. Isaak couldn’t bare seeing Nikolai suffer, he couldn’t watch him die, not now, not ever. They were living dangerous lives but he’d PROTECT him, always, no matter what. Seeing his king now, so utterly lost, so utterly devastated after waking from yet another coma.

❝ You would have never let her come this close. You wouldn’t have been so foolish to meet with her alone. ❞

Isaak exhaled a shuddering sigh, his breath hitching as pain surged through his chest. Mayu, he had fallen in love with them, there was no denying his affection towards her. Could he ever look at her again after what she had done to him? He hated her, despised her with all he had and yet he had feelings for them.

With Nikolai, it was different. He knew he could ask Mayu to be his wife, marry, move far far away to a dacha on the countryside and never bother with royalty again. Nikolai, however… He could never have a guard as his prince. Isaak could never have him, no matter how much he was longing for it. Those fleeting kisses, those nights spent at each others side, sharing warmth, sharing a bed, a cot, a barely insolated tent at the Fjerdan front. All an illusion of something that could never be.

❝ She was tasked to kill you, Kolya. How can I ever forgive her, even if I know she feels regret for her actions.❞

He glances down to find the scar on his heaving, sore chest, closing his eyes for a brief moment as he remembered the terrifying sensation of her slipping a blade between his ribs. No, not her. Ehri.

❝ She wanted to visit me…? ❞

Isaak reiterated slowly, the words heavy on his tongue, swallowing hard, holding back a wince as he realized how parched his throat was. She wanted to see him - a motionless, ashen figure barely clinging to life in an infirmary bed? He wondered how long Nikolai had been sitting by his side. His presence was comforting, no, more than that. It made him feel stronger than he actually was.

❝ I…I am glad… you didn’t…❞

He let his head fall back onto the pillow, grimacing a little at the persisting ache in his chest. Nikolai hadn’t let her close to him and he found he’d rather have the king by his side than anyone else. EVER. In truth, he was afraid. Afraid of what she might do to him.

Isaak reached out for his tsar, his hand trembling with the strain of movement.

❝ I wouldn’t…wouldn’t want anyone else with me but you, Kolya. ❞

Nikolai envied the faith Isaak had in his capacity to do right by him, especially when all evidence proved to the contrary. Since they’d known each other, the man had been exposed to more and more danger. The Too-Clever Fox had planned to enlist a doppelganger years ago if for some mysterious reason the king of Ravka were to disappear. And while he knew this was the right choice to make for his kingdom, he’d always dreaded the idea of bringing his Isaya into this mess one day and being unable to protect him. And as much as he felt in his heart he didn’t deserve Isaak Andreyev, he just couldn’t bring himself to stay away for too long. This constant tug of war between duty and his heart’s desire was as painful as it was exhausting. He lacked consistency in the way he showed his affection and he had no doubt both of them were suffering because of it. He had fought so hard for his throne and, in about a month, if everything went as planned, Ehri Kir-Taban would be his Queen and his reign over Ravka would be secure with the promise of an eventual heir. Ehri didn’t want to marry him, that he was sure. She would, for her people, but it would be in no way her heart’s desire. And, for that, he’d come to realize just how alike they were. 

***

I guess none of us gets to be happy in the end, that was what Ehri had sighed in the sitting room one night while they were alone and flipping through albums of wedding décor Genya had brought them. He’d raised a brow and she went on with an old Shu saying, which translated to something like A true ruler must possess nothing to rule because they have to give everything they have to their people. Even their life. He tried to make a joke out of it. It’s funny, I’m told I possess a lot of things, Nikolai had argued, opening his arms wide and gesturing to the palace around them. The barest smile had appeared on his fiancée’s lips. I believe the author meant things that cannot be measured nor bought. He knew it. He just couldn’t bring himself to think about what he was truly giving up for Ravka. Ehri had kept flipping through the pages in silence. And what would you be giving up, Princess? He’d asked after taking a sip of his tea, like he was talking about the weather or other trivial matter. Ehri hadn’t answered right away. She usually never did when it came to serious questions. Honestly, he didn’t understand why everyone seemed to have deemed her ill-suited for politics when she clearly possessed a talent for captivating her audience. The silence went on forever it seemed. So much so Nikolai was wondering if she hadn’t fallen asleep with her eyes open. He was about to reach for her shoulder when her lips finally parted. My dreams, she’d uttered, fingers closing the book on her lap. Then, she’d got up and left the room, leaving her tea behind, which had been made the Shu way at her request. When she’d walked past the flames dancing in the fireplace, he’d caught a glimpse of a tear escaping her dark lashes. And he’d quickly regretted asking such a personal question to his future wife. Well, this marriage sounds very promising and so much fun, he’d murmured, trying to laugh it off but it didn’t work. That night, he didn’t sleep at all. What would you be giving up? The question had echoed in his mind, haunting him in his resting hours. Somehow, he’d found himself in the infirmary. He’d sat by Isaak's side. The man hadn’t woken up from his coma yet. In the morning, Tolya had found the king snoring in a chair, his bare fingers still holding onto the guard’s hand. 

***

Nikolai loved his people but, since that conversation with Ehri, he was becoming painfully aware that as a ruler his duty and desires would never coincide. He would always have to pick one over the other and, for the sake of his people, duty would always win. He knew this and his heart still ached nonetheless. He’d been aware his father has had multiple mistresses and had toyed with servants (and it still chilled him to the bone to imagine how many women his dad had taken advantage of within those very walls) but Nikolai was not his father. In fact, he wasn’t even his son — his mother had confirmed it a while back. And could he really do that to his Isaya? Have him around as some kind of boy toy, love him in secret and hide him in his closet like something he was ashamed of? No way. He could never do that to him. That wonderful man deserved better. And what about Ehri? Wouldn’t it be disrespecting her even though their marriage wasn’t a union of love? It was a known fact that Shu Queens usually had many consorts in order to make sure there was an heir and to prevent any lovers from claiming the child and throne for themselves. Ehri didn’t seem to be interested in romance at all though so he doubted she’d be thrilled at the idea. Nikolai had no idea how to make this —whatever this was— work in a way that everyone would be comfortable and happy. And both his brain and heart hurt at that thought. 

❛ Isaya…  ❜ 

The king’s voice was but a whisper as he felt his heart begin to shatter within his ribcage. Fingers intertwined together almost as soon as Isaak had reached out for his hand. Nikolai had also reached for him, guided by the undeniable pull he felt towards his dear friend. He’d left his chair and sat on the bed. Isaak had called him Kolya twice in a row, giving his heart a painful flutter. If he could die of something like this, you bet he would die happy. And loved. 

❛ Forgiveness belongs to you only, Isaak the Bright. I will not force it, I promise. It is for you to give to whomever you think deserves it. ❜ He murmured softly, using the nickname he’d been giving by both Dominik and him back when they served in the First Army together. He’d paused, eyes fixating on their hands in one another. ❛ I brought this upon you…❜ Somehow, his hazel eyes had found the courage to look into his Isaya’s brown orbs again. ❛ I don’t understand how— how you could ever forgive me. ❜ His voice had broken a little but he’d managed to regain himself like the king he was, even though it was clear he believed he didn’t deserve to be forgiven nor did he believe he was worthy of the honorable man that was Isaak Andreyev.

couronnez​:

When the door to the sitting room opened, Vasily was caught up deep in his thoughts and almost hadn’t managed to scramble to his feet to the greet the princess properly. He’d been wondering about Nikolai, who he was doing in the infantry, when he’d finally return and put an end to the misery that would be this marriage. He’d written to him and his brother had promised he’d travel to Os Alta. It was only a question of time.

His glance fell onto the lush green silks, the heavy headdress studded with more emeralds than he’d ever seen, sparkling beautifully in the bright chandelier light and the soft sun rays falling in through the tall windows. Saints, they were taking this engagement seriously…

He hadn’t. He truly had thought that there would be a chance to weasel his way out of this. Apparently, a misassumption.

❝ I could say the same about you, Princess. You look lovely, by the way.❞

A nervous chuckle, a vent to release some of the built up tension inside of him. So far so good. He couldn’t mess this up. Not again. Whatever happened next however, he couldn’t have predicted nor prepared for in any way. A laugh slipped past his lips, genuine, kind-hearted, taking the tease as a compliment.

Meet insults with laughter.

❝ Indeed. I guess you’re glad it wasn’t your dress I ruined.❞

A smirk spread over his lips as their eyes met, blue clashing with gold. There was something in them, something he couldn’t place but he was skilled at reading people. She was hiding something. There was the sort of hardship and pain in those irises he knew all too well. Why would a princess carry those with her? What had they done and what had been done to them to justify it? Vasily had his own guards posted at the entrance and the windows, four of them in total to stand against the Tavgharads should the need arise. He doubted it but he’d rather be safe than sorry and dead on top.

Vasily was a little taken aback by her request and yet nodded anyway, dismissing his own servants with an easy flick of his hand.

❝ As you wish, princess. I could assure you, though, that Ravkan tea is excellent.❞

She’d have to get used to it if she was to marry him. For now, anything to make her happy. Anything to not accidentally cause a war. Over tea of all things.

❝ I have never had tea the Shu way, to be honest. Do you add sugar as well? I’d hate to drink mine without sugar.❞

He had a sweet tooth through and through, since always. A light-hearted smile as he gestured toward one of the divans in the sitting room, waiting for to sit down so he could do so as well.

The Shu royal had taken in the compliment like any princess who wasn't incredibly vain would have. With a shy smile. Meanwhile, Mayu was inwardly fighting the urge to throw that damned headdress out the window and take off every piece of jewelry they were wearing. This is for your country, they told themselves. But Mayu knew the truth. Queen Makhi would’ve never got her into a dress and jewelry, even if they had been paid for it. Ehri though… Sweet and gentle Ehri could get the ruthless Tavgharad to agree to all the crazy plans she had as long as it didn’t put anyone in danger. Besides, Mayu did also want to make sure Vasily was a suitable future husband for their princess. So, of course, they had agreed to wear all the dresses and jewelry. She still hated the hell out of the experience but she’d do it all over again. For Ehri. Gold eyes had widened slightly in surprise as the prince met her remark with laughter, though they had been quick to regain composure. 

❛ Oh, you could’ve ruined mine and i wouldn’t have been bothered. I don’t care much for pretty dresses and whatnots ❜ She’d waved off the matter before adding. ❛ unlike my queen…sister. ❜ There’d been a short break after queen. Almost imperceptible, except for people who paid close attention. Dammit. Be more careful. Unfortunately, they’d made sure to add the rest and keep the words flowing from her mouth. ❛ To be honest, i'm dressed this way because my advisor suggested so. You have no idea how heavy that headdress actually is! ❜ Vulnerability and honestly made one likable and usually helped the other person feel more at ease, enough to open themselves up as well. Which was the goal here: getting to know the true Vasily Lantsov.

There was a noise in the background. Like something hitting hard wood. The maid had hit her elbow on the side of the table. Ehri swallowed her pain and kept on scraping the tea leaves off the bamboo tea holder and into the brewing vessel while telling herself she was definitely gonna have A TALK  with Mayu after this. Sure, it was true the advisor had suggested it and it was true that the headdress was HEAVY and that the real Princess Ehri didn’t care much for her pretty dresses unlike her sister but the real Ehri would’ve never told Vasily all of those things. Vasily Lantsov didn’t know Ehri but if the latter was gonna become the man’s wife, it’d be nice for him to actually come to appreciate the real her, not Mayu. Not that the bluntness wasn’t an appreciable trait of the Tavgharad. It was! In fact, Ehri was very much fond of Mayu’s straightforwardness. It hadn’t been a personality trait she had expected from a Tavgharad at all. While the rest of her guards coddled her and rarely disagreed with her, Mayu was blunt when the hard truth needed to be said. And Ehri listened. Always. 

The princess’s head had jerked up before she’d even sat down on the divan, sending the maid a worried and questioning glance to which the maid replied in Shu that everything was alright. So, the princess seemed to relax a bit, finally sitting down, but the tension in her frame was still visible by the way she kept her back straight, not so much as in a perfect-princess way but rather in a there’s-a-bomb-in-the-room-and-that-thing-will-explode-if-i-mess-anything-up kinda way. 

❛ We usually don’t but we can put sugar in yours for sure. ❜ The royal said, glancing to the maid to make sure she’d understood and since it seemed she did, they kept the conversation going, smiling at the prince. ❛ Next time, we’ll get to have tea the ravkan way, i promise. After all, we’re here to befriend each other, aren’t we? ❜ Another bright smile. ❛ I think it’s important we learn and embrace one another’s culture during my stay here. I will not forsake my nation and my culture for the sake of my future husband’s kingdom. Shu Han is my home and my heart. If I ever come to live here, in Ravka, the Court and the people will have to accept that. ❜ She paused, letting the words sink in as the maid brought them their tea, adding sugar to Vasily’s cup and leaving the bowl next to the prince, in case he wished to add more. 

The next part was gonna be the most important. If Vasily answered wrong to her following question, this whole marriage thing would become history and they would go back home. If he answered correctly, then Mayu might have to let Ehri go. The first case scenario would mean war and the other one meant losing someone dear to them. Lips parted as gold eyes met blue ones again. There was a solemnity in them… and an ounce of pain. ❛ Will you or will you not defend your potential bride’s desire and right to keep her heritage alive within these walls? My hand won’t just come with the treasures of Shu Han, Vasily –which I am aware Ravka needs. It will come with so much more than gold and warfare allyship and I want you to be aware of what you’d be signing up for.❜  

@iskron there you go <3

❛ This is nonsense! I’m no Grisha.❜ Linnea exclaimed as they dragged her out of the room to Djel knows where. Something stirs inside her as she says this. The power buried within protesting against such claim. It startles her for a moment. She shakes her head, begins fighting them off again. No, she can’t be Grisha. She just can’t. If she was, she would’ve known, right? ❛ Let go of me! ❜ She shouts as she struggles to set herself free from the guards grasp. Irons ultimately closes around her wrists and the panic seeps in. She’s all alone and has been forced back into a country that failed her as a child and teenager. Her father is missing and the court swore they would protect her from whatever enemies the man has made and yet—— she might burn at the stake because some old lady at the entrance touched her and decided she was Grisha. 

Makhi had taken her mother’s hand in hers. ❛ But I should [rule]. I have studied. I have trained. ❜   ❛ And yet no lesson has ever taught you kindness. No tutor has ever taught you mercy. You have a heart hungry for war and I do not know why. ❜ ❛ It is the falcon’s heart, ❜ Makhi had said proudly. ❛ The heart of the Han. ❜ ❛ It is the falcon’s will. That is a different thing. ❜ Rule of Wolves, chapter 1

iskron​:

Rasmus has never been a flirt but there is something about Mayu that makes it so remarkably easy to talk to them sweetly. Full of affection. Or rather new found interest –

No. He isn’t going to fall in love. He knows. He is not made for relationships and love. He is made for boring state banquets and meetings with foreign dignitaries that lasted so long it should be illegal. Alas he is losing focus.

❝ Whatever Lantsov. ❞

He smirks, well aware Nikolai and his brother will always quarrel about anything really. It’s a product of their upbringing. He’s happy they’re even talking to each other still. Hell, they’ve even tried to be brothers lately. Real brothers. Rasmus cannot imagine how they’ve pulled it off but they have.

❝ A miracle indeed. My ribs are still pretty sore, though. ❞

Behind them, Vasily looks like as if he wants to start crying. He left work for this? His brother said it was a family emergency. Not that his need for alcohol isn’t one but still …

He exhales a weary sigh. He could have finished those budget reports in time before tomorrow. He’d have to pull another eighteen hour shift again then. Great. He lets himself get dragged into the kitchen, past his pale, sick boy of a cousin, a light-hearted eye roll is all he manages to do. At least he can drown his sorrows in Vodka now.

❝ I hope there is – ❞

Vasily stops in track, his hand flying to the lapels of his suit to smooth them out. He hasn’t had the time to change from his business attire because Nikolai had quite literally dragged him out of office and into his car. He turns to his cousin as Nikolai converses with the unknown roommate, his glance saying it all. Ohhh you didn’t tell us you have a girlfriend now?

Rasmus gestures for Vasily to sit down on the divan before hurrying off to grab the glasses and return with them. He needs a drink now if he wants to survive Nikolai’s subtle questions about his in fact non-existent love life. Mayu Kir-kaat. A no one. Perfect to protect him. Not many would be asking questions where they came from or what their apparent relation to Rasmus is but Nikolai does such things. Vasily is the quiet observer in the back, almost absently sipping on his Vodka as he watches and learns. He is a master at reading people, always has been. In a way, she’s similiar to Nikolai he finds. They adapt easily to their environment, toying with words as if they were the fountain of their power.

❝ Kolya, please. Drink. Here. How is aunt Tatiana doing these days? Is uncle Alexander still sick? ❞

❛ Your auntie is doing wonderful. I’m afraid I cannot say the same about Alexander though. ❜ Nikolai takes a sip of his vodka but doesn’t say anything more. For now. 

Mayu is sitting on the sofa across from the Lantsov siblings. A quiet observer. She can already tell Nikolai isn’t fond of his father. Or his parents at all. He must have a strained relationship with his mother as he call her Ramus’ auntie. No MOTHER, no MOM.  He called his father by his first name. No FATHER, no DAD, not even a YOUR UNCLE. He hates the guy, Mayu notes. And Vasily—— Well, from what the bodyguard heard from the other side of the door earlier, he’s afraid to disappoint the man but still calls him Dad. 

❛ As always Mother dear is deploying great efforts to achieve her dreams for grandkids. She usually gets like that around Christmas so she’s a couple months early on her schedule this time. I did remind her of the process of baby making  I N   D E T A I L, in case she thought babies grew in trees since she’s not getting any younger after all, you know. I thought i had stunned her for a while but as soon as i was done with my version of the birds and the bees speech, she took her damn phone and set up A   P L A Y D A T E  with the Taban girl. Not the oldest one, thank god! Because we all vividly remember that  D I S A S T E R, a few years back, when that b— i mean, lovely lady threatened to sue poor Vasya because he’d gotten so drunk out of nervousness —and boredom!— he’d spilled his drink on her. ❜

❛ Suing someone for a date gone wrong seems a little…extreme. ❜ Mayu commented, leaving all the room in the conversation for Nikolai to rant about the situation because, clearly, that’s what he needs. 

❛ Nothing is  T O O   E X T R E M E  for the Taban family. All of them are hella extra. And I don't expect Makhi’s little sister to be anything less than a diva. I googled her. She used to be a model! Look!  ❜ He’d grabbed his phone, quickly opened his bookmarks and got up to shove it in Rasmus’ hands. He begins pacing in the living-room and ranting again, his drink in hand. ❛ And she’s to be an intern at Lantsov Corporation, can you imagine??  I bet she’ll have nothing else to talk about than her G L O R Y   D A Y S  or whatever. I can’t believe mom would think she’d be a great fit for me! I mean, granted we both hot as fuck, but man you can’t base a relationship on how hot both parties are! There’s a reason I don't work there. And I don’t want my partner to keep reminding me of the HUGE BULLET I dodged. ❜ He stops in his track to turn to his brother. ❛ No offense, brother. This is just not my thing. ❜

Mayu leans in to have a look at the pictures on Nikolai’s phone that Rasmus is now holding. Their shoulders are touching now. The girl in the pictures is stunning. Long dark hair frames an angelic face with big doe eyes. Sweet. That’s the first word that comes to mind when she looks at the model. Everything i’m not. There’s something about that one picture where the girl isn’t dressed so humbly that catches her eye. There’s something about the model’s eyes… Mayu needs to have a closer look. Before they realize it, her hand reaches to grab the phone. Fingers brushes against Rasmus’. She’s fighting herself not to withdraw their hand as soon as it happens. It wouldn’t be natural. It wouldn’t add up with the fact they’d been living together. She gently picks up the phone from her roommate’s fingers, smoothly and naturally withdrawing from the touch once the phone is in their hands. She’d apologize later for invading his space.

couronnez​:

Whatever LOVE Vasily had felt for his mother had mostly evaporated over years of neglect and outright ignorance. She only regarded him when it was convenient for her or to show off her eldest son to her tattling friends so they could confabulate why such a dashing young man hadn’t taken any princess’s hand in matrimony yet.

To be honest, Vasily had never received unconditional love from anyone but his younger brother Nikolai, who was away in the infantry right now, together with his childhood friend Dominik, a simple peasant. Kolya had never meddled with the sons of counts and dukes like he did but instead chosen to stick with kids lower than his social stand. Farmers, sons of soldiers, of simple merchants not nearly wealthy enough to be considered important to the crown.

It was wrong in so many ways that his father had forced his friends upon him without much choice. He was the heir to the throne, he’d rule this damned country one day and yet all he wanted was to run far far away, open up a racing stable and a stud farm and never be heard from again.

He could entertain his greatest love - his horses - even as a tsar if he wished to but something deep inside of him told him he wouldn’t have the time. He wouldn’t be able to pursue his dreams if he claimed the throne. Eventually he would lose everything and anything that mattered to him and he’d be stuck in a loveless marriage just like his parents.

He didn’t want that. For his own sake and Ehri’s as well.

❝ Well, what did you expect? A drunkard? A prince as lazy as can be, his head full of horses and Kvas? ❞

Vasily knew when to wear a mask, when to play part in the illusion that was the crown prince’s apparent personality - a shameful one nonetheless, he was long over his drinking and gambling years. He didn’t have anything to hide from Ehri, in fact, he’d despise to do so.

She came here to meet the real Vasily Lantsov.

Well,

he throught,

then let her meet the real me. Not a facade. Not a shiny doll, not a puppet dressed by its company.

The prince took another sip of his tea, the sweetness of it would have been eye watering to most, a dulcet tang of warm liquid washing down his thoughts and sorrows.

He cants his head as he takes the princess in closely for a second, his focus breaking as he a cough forces its way past his lips, narrowly avoiding her as he turned to release it into the sleeve of his left arm.

❝ I beg your pardon, it must have been too much sugar. Even for me. ❞

❛ Well, ❜ The princess began, slowly, ❛  you made a certain first impression. ❜ She took a sip of her tea. It wasn’t to offend him or anything, it was just a fact. They hadn’t stopped to think that perhaps he had been drunk that day in  Ahmrat Jen  because he was too nervous to attend the ball. Mayu glanced at Ehri briefly whose gaze immediately fell on the floor, like the humble maid she was supposed to be. They could feel their princess’ guilt as well, especially after hearing Vasily’s answer to that previous question where he’d swore he’d defend his bride no matter the resistance.   ❛ I should’ve known better than imagine kvas and horses were your entire personality. ❜ The royal added, gold eyes locking gazes with the ravkan prince once more. ❛ Perhaps there’s a way i can make it up to you, show you that i’m much less judgemental than i let out to—   ❜ They didn’t get to finish. The cough had been so sudden. She’d frowned with concern but before they could say anything Ehri the maid had rushed to his side with a glass of water. 

She’s way too comfortable in this role, Mayu observed as Ehri handed him some fresh water. Even though Ehri had the elegance of the Taban family, she had no desire to ever reign nor be living at court. This wedding would be another sort of obligation, another mask she’d have to wear. Though the masquerade would be never ending this time. Performing in front of a crowd wouldn’t be enough, she’d also have to perform in private to keep this marriage and union between their nations strong. And Mayu couldn’t be sure of how suitable Vasily Lantsov truly was as a husband until they’d found themselves alone together, without chaperones. Her heart ached for the princess. Bearing such a burden felt like a curse. The Tavgharad would’ve gladly whisk her away, provided Ehri asked them to. That would be treason, a little voice scolded them. You serve the Taban Queen and Queen Makhi wishes for this union. Shu Han needs it. Your nation needs it. Her heart was quick to argue. Queen Keyen would’ve never married off her daughter like that. But the first voice countered. Queen Keyen is dead. All hail Queen Makhi. 

As strong as a Tavgharad and cunning as a spider, Makhi was a great ruler for Shu Han. She lacked compassion but war called for actions and ruthlessness. Mayu knew that and yet—— they’d let themselves be charmed by Ehri’s kindness and gentle ways, something they had once believed to be a liability.

❛ So it seems. ❜ The royal nodded slightly as Vasily blamed his cough on too much sugar. They let their back rest on the cushion. Some of the tension in her frame remained though. The cough had startled them a bit, activating some of her Tavgharad reflexes. The tea was just too sweet. He hasn’t been poisoned. Calm down.