Olenna woke with his name on her lips, just as she did every morning. It lingered like the last bite of a sugar-sweet pastry on her tongue. She could never decide if the taste was a welcomed one. It was a particularly vivid dream. Rooted in memory and fueled by wistful sentimentality. The memories ebbed and flowed like the tides, slipping away with the last tendrils of sleep until all that remained of her dreams was the emerald green of his eyes and the knowledge that something was woefully absent from the waking world.

Perhaps her grief had been coaxed by the reappearance of her elder brother? Where Nikolai traveled, so did the past. The one she'd rather leave buried beneath an unembellished crucifix and crocuses that bloomed brighter each spring that passed. His grave was well kept, the moss that crept up the sides scrubbed away by Olenna's hands and adorned with small gifts from his family. Would Nikolai return to that little corner of farmland now that he was back in Ravka? She hadn't been there in almost two months.

Avoidance had become as much a part of Olenna's days as stepping into her chemise and lacing her stays. Olenna was always a master at slipping away when she wanted to, but the difference was that now she was hiding from Nikolai, not with him. There was a list as large as Vasily's ego of reasons why it was easier to avoid her older brother. But there was only so much she could do inside the cage of the Grand Palace before they collided.

Olenna's neck stretched high, her chin tilted slightly to the left. A few paces away, Queen Tatiana peered over the shoulder of a painter long since lost in his work. A crease had formed between her brows as she scrutinized the likeness of Olenna's portrait. The lines of Tatiana's worries were deep and engrained, with no tailor's touch to smooth them over. 

"You will fix her hair, won't you?" Tatiana pointed to a spot on the canvas that Olenna couldn't see. A ruby ring glinted beneath the nose of the poor painter. "Lighten the roots to match. I want her to look her best."

"Of course, Moi Tsaritsa." The painter mumbled, yet made no move to change his course.

Tatiana looked over the canvas to her daughter. "Don't fret, Olenna, Dear. We will find a new tailor to fix you up before they ever see you in the flesh." The assurance was undoubtedly for her benefit, not Olenna's. Olenna fought the natural urge to curl her shoulders inward as she took a deep breath and exhaled through parted lips. Frustration pooled in her chest, but it could never be allowed to boil over. Just sit still, and it will be over soon. She repeated the words in her head as a mantra.

The prince and princess sat bookended with a matching set of portrait painters studying each line of their facade. Olenna and Nikolai were ensconced by vases overflowing with pink Lilly and baby's breath arrangements. Pungent perfume mixed with acrid oil paints enveloped the room, choking out any fresh air there might've been. "Chin up, Nikolia!" Tatiana hurried over. From the corner of her eye, Olenna saw her begin physically correcting the exact angle of his face. Long, unmarred fingers danced along the edges of Nikolai's skin, nudging and guiding him into the prime position. "We want them to capture that strong jaw of yours. It's one of your best features."

Olenna knew Nikolai's brow was raised in jest without looking at him. His familiar facetious tone proclaimed, "Here I was thinking it was my personality."

Olenna scoffed, "We all know that's not even in the running."

Tatiana's sapphire eyes narrowed towards her daughter. "Behave, both of you. Nikolai, this will be the portrait to announce your betrothal to the Sun Summoner and send a message to our enemies that we are a formidable allyship."

"I doubt our enemies care if my chin is angled at ninety degrees or eighty." Nikolai's response was more tired than petulant.

Tatiana pinned Olenna with a look as cold and unwavering as a Fjerdan winter. "Olenna's visage will be sent to every eligible man of means from here to Novyi Zem, inviting them to court her. I don't need to tell you that whomever you marry may well determine the fate of this war. You must do everything to secure a match this social season."

It was a speech Olenna had memorized as well as her morning and evening prayers. There wasn't to be much of a social season this year. They were in the middle of a war, after all. But Tatiana was adamant that the show must go on. The court would function as if nothing was amiss. Invitations to the palace had already been distributed amongst the nobles, crisp and inked with the Ravkan double eagle. It was a grand scene to behold, and the cost of one portrait alone could feed a family of eight for a fortnight, but that was of no consequence to Tatiana. Olenna, despite her best efforts, had no sway in the matter.

"A courier will deliver your portrait personally to the King of Fjerda. The Crown Prince Rasmus has just reached marrying age." Tatiana looked almost giddy at the prospect.

Nikolai waited until their mother was back beside the painters before responding. "Our fourteen-year-old cousin who looks like a strong breeze would make him keel over? He'll be lucky if he lives long enough to take the crown."

"Which is why he'd be the perfect choice," Tatiana insisted. "Olenna will produce an heir as soon as possible, the prince will die, and she will be Queen Mother. If we can secure Fjerda as an ally, end the conflict at our borders, and beat back the Darkling all in one stroke. We will have control of not just Ravka but Fjerda's future King. I may not have the connections I once did, but there is no denying that a match of such exceptional breeding would be beneficial for both our kingdoms."

"Madraya, sending Olenna off to Fjerda is likely more risk than reward. They have as much motive to slaughter her as they do to accept the match." Olenna wished she could turn her cheek and see her brother's expression. She could only glean so much from the strain in his voice.

"You forget, my dear, that the Fjerdan King and I are kin. No matter our political alliances, I know that if an olive branch is extended he will not set it aflame without cause." A servant boy approached with a platter of refreshments. The Queen plucked up a goblet of sweet wine and took a sip. "I still have my sources within Fjerda, and I have it on good authority that there has been quite a struggle to find a suitable match for the boy given his... deficiencies." The corner of Tatiana's lip curled with contempt.

Nikolai abandoned his pose, turning in his seat to face their mother. He was almost pleading now. Frustration and disbelief leached through every syllable. "We all want peace, Madraya, but surely there is a better way than this? If you must sacrifice a queen in this game, let it be Vassily. He is yet unwed and perfectly eligible!"  

"I have other plans for Vassily." Tatiana waved a dismissive hand. "That's enough on the matter. Olenna will do well to remember what is at stake here. We must secure the strongest alliance possible to best The Darkling." Olenna dared not move a muscle out of place, only parting her lips to mutter a meek response.

"Of course, Madraya." Olenna sensed Nikolai's eyes against the back of her head but refused to turn her cheek. Olenna mustered a voice dipped in sugar water. "Would you open a window, please, Madraya? The smell is making my headache."

"Of course, My Darling." Tatiana cooed, her perfectly plucked brows knitting together in a pitying expression, then began surveying the room.

Tatiana's eyes landed on one of the servants standing dutifully by a pitcher of wine and a platter of lavender tea cakes. Tatiana flourished a hand in their direction. "You, open up these windows." Like a spurned horse, the servant jolted into action, scrambling to set the platter aside.

"I asked you Madraya, not Amaliya." Olenna almost snapped, but Tatiana thankfully took no notice of her irritation.

"It's what she's here for."

Olenna didn't need to force a disdainful tone. "You know they won't do it correctly. They can't even follow simple instructions." In her periphery, Nikolai turned to gape at her. It was a terrible thing to say, Olenna knew. But Tatiana tilted her head, considering.

Then Tatiana lifted her chin higher and nodded. "Always right, my dear." Tatiana snapped her fingers at Amaliya and ordered in a sharp tone. "Back to your post, girl." Amaliya pulled her hand from the window latch as if burnt. She glanced at The Queen headed towards her, then locked eyes with Olenna. Olenna smiled and shot the maid a conspiratorial wink.

Tatiana swept haughtily across the room. Amaliya had to practically leap out of the way and back to her post by the door. Olenna slumped in her chair, a deep frown overtaking a placid smile. She muttered, "Saints forbid you lift a finger to anything more than your soup spoon." Nikolai's back shook against Olenna's with silent laughter, the most contact they'd had in weeks.

Mechanisms latching and unlatching sounded from the window, where Tatiana was no doubt struggling to unlatch the lock. Olenna took the moment for what it was -- a brief respite from her authoritarian mother.

"Olenna." Nikolai turned fully in his chair to face her. "I need to speak with you."

Olenna didn't look at him. She was more concerned with her mother's attention than his. "Isn't that what you're doing?" Her voice was like a winter wind.

"You know what I mean." Nikolai frowned. Olenna pretended she didn't see it in her periphery.

She didn't intend to respond, but the words were out of her mouth before she could catch them. "You had two years to speak to me, and you never did."

Nikolai took a deep breath and let it out with a whoosh. "It was a matter of safety. For both of us."

Hinges in need of oil creaked and groaned as Tatiana pushed the thick panes out over the blooming shrubs below. The twittering of birds and the warbled voices of the groundspeople tending to ornamental topiaries joined the scruff of brushes on canvas. The breeze doused Olenna's skin like seawater on a sweltering day. The paint fumes came in nauseating waves, light as the fresh air dispersed it, then oppressive as it filled the space again.

"I thought--" Nikolai stopped short as if catching himself before saying too much. "I thought I was doing the right thing." The brewing irritation in Olenna's chest flared. Nikolai placed a hand on Olenna's shoulder. "If you would just let me explain --" Olenna twisted in her chair so they were finally face to face. She was sure her cheeks were red and blotchy. Her words hissed between clenched teeth.

"You had years to explain--"

"--Olenna!" Tatiana's heels rapped against marble as she marched over to her children. "Stop distracting your brother, and fix your face. You won't secure a match with those wrinkles on your forehead." Tatiana grasped Olenna's shoulders and forcefully turned her back around. Filed nails dug into Olenna's skin through the fabric of her gown. Olenna hurried to recover her sensibilities, urging her body to remember its placement.

Nikolai spoke over her shoulder again, this time addressing Tatiana. "My apologies, Madraya. I was the one distracting her."

Tatiana scoffed. "No need to lie for her, Nikolai. I know very well the kind of trouble she can cause." Tatiana poked and prodded Olenna until she was back to her previous position. Then, directed her nitpicking back to the painter's canvas.

"You'll only make it worse," Olenna whispered. The prickling of tears began behind her eyes, and a traitorous lump had lodged itself in her throat. She just wanted to make it through the next hour without being berated or cornered into a conversation with her brother that she wasn't prepared to have.

While Olenna knew Nikolai was not looking at her, she felt his attention like a shroud over her head. She sensed the words boiling beneath the surface, fighting to escape through her brother's lips. He obeyed her plea for silence and behaved as a prince should. Olenna, as expected, performed her duty with docility and grace. Anything less would earn her mother's reproach.

The hour passed at a snail's pace, the grandfather clock in the far corner taunting her with each swing of its pendulum. By the time the noon bells rang, Olenna's spine pricked with pins and needles, and her neck was as stiff as a board. As she stood from her chair and gathered her sensibilities, her mother approached.

"Have your servants dress you up in something appropriate for entertaining. You will take tea with the Ladies of court today. We must spread the word that you will be joining the marriage market this season. If all goes well, you'll be engaged before it begins." Tatiana's expression was wickedly gleeful. Olenna nodded, clasping her hands together at her waist.

"Of course, Madraya. I've already arranged for gifts to arrive for each of the ladies attending. They must view me as a friend and ally if we are to secure a solid match." The words were bitter on her tongue. Those women were nothing more than snakes in sheep's clothing. But Olenna was not under any illusion that she could afford to snuff them. To survive in a game of chess, one needs to know how to utilize every piece. The ladies at court were weapons, and she'd rather have them fighting on her side, even if she did want to throw herself from the ramparts after every conversation.

"I've taught you well, dear. Gossip is one of the most powerful tools for us women. Men pretend they are above such frivolities, but if something negative is said about the princess from wife to husband, it will make its way to prospective suitors. Best keep the Ladies close to your chest. They already have enough things to say about you. We don't need any other reasons for them to turn their noses up."

"I'll see you at dinner, my boy." Tatiana placed a sweet kiss on her son's cheek and absconded from the room. A gaggle of ladies maids hurried after in a tight formation.

As Tatiana's footfalls faded, Olenna's muscles melted like snow in spring, her breathing deepened, and her headache became all the more apparent in the queen's wake.

Nikolai came to stand before her, dipping his chin in an attempt to hold her eye. "'Lenn, I promise you that we will find another way. I won't let them send you off to Fjerda. Mother will see sense. Give her time. Remember when she wanted to send me to boarding school in Ketterdam for a "more disciplined" education? It only took a few weeks of appealing to her vanity to convince her that no Headmaster could do a better job raising me than her."

Olenna shook her head and began walking. "This is not like boarding school, Nikolai." Nikolai hurried to keep up with her brisk pace as she headed down the hall.

"All I'm saying is that she changed her mind then, and I know she will change it about this matter too. We won't rest until she does."

"And what? She'll marry me off to Lord Rastov instead?" Olenna felt the tears again. Those saints damned tears that wouldn't leave her alone. "At least Rasmus will be dead in a few years." It was the only consolation she could think of. It was the only one there was.

Olenna knew the rumors - that Rasmus was a cruel boy, that he tortured his servants and slaughtered his hunting dogs if they displeased him. She wouldn't have been bothered by his physical disabilities, not in the slightest, but her cousin was born an insidious boy. Nikolai hurried ahead and turned, so he could walk backward and face her while they conversed. "You know she's all talk. She won't force you to marry that roach."

"If it's advantageous, she'll sell me for a bolt of silk. We are in very different standings in the eyes of our mother." Two guards opened the doors ahead, and the siblings didn't pause as they walked through and around the corner.

"That isn't true." Nikolai's brows furrowed, and he frowned. "She loves you just as much as me."

Olenna barked a bitter laugh, grinning bitterly from ear to ear. "And yet you were allowed to join the army and see the world. You went to university, for Saint's sake, Nikolai!" Olenna stopped short, halting by a grand arching window looking over the gardens. Nikolai nearly tripped over his feet as he followed her lead. Olenna gestured with her hands, the frustration bubbling over. "I was given none of those opportunities simply because I was born a woman! I am not afforded the same liberties with my future! It will be what she chooses! That is what I must do!"

"You can't believe that's all there is for you." His eyes narrowed in pity. Bile rose in Olenna's throat. She wanted to smack the look off his face and shake some sense into him.

"I don't have to believe a fact." She snapped. "From the moment I was born, my fate was sealed. All I can do is try to soften the inevitable blow. I will marry a man I do not love and make heirs for him. That is all." The silence that followed was so thick that Olenna was sure she could carve a knife into it. Nikolai balked at her, his jaw and arms slack. She could see it in his face that something about what she'd said hammered the point into place. She saw that look in the mirror -- hopeless, pathetic sorrow.

Nikolai's lips parted as if to speak, closed again, then opened. "I didn't-- I didn't think..."

"I know," Olenna whispered. This time, she couldn't stop a tear from welling over. She wiped hastily at her cheek and blinked rapidly to clear her blurring vision. "Please respect that I need time to process, Nik. We'll talk soon, but I'm not ready to hear your reasons." She felt raw and bare before him. The anger she'd harbored had left in one gushing stream.

"Alright," Nikolai muttered, nodding numbly.

Olenna pressed her lips together, keeping her gaze locked with her brothers. She whispered, "Alright." 

Olenna turned. She knew he wouldn't follow her, so when she made it through the doors at the end of the hall, she turned not towards her quarters but the winding gardens.