THE SHIP'S SWAY on choppy waters was enough to keep Freya from sleep, but she didn't mind that much. She was more than content to lay in bed beside Nikolai with her head resting on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Unlike her, he had crashed almost immediately after returning to his cabin that night. It had been a difficult day. The sun was too hot and blistering, and the wind was rough, pushing the ship in the wrong direction if he tried to take a break and let go of the helm. He'd stayed awake long enough to pull her close to his body and offer her a few lazy kisses.

His arms weren't as tightly clenched around her now that he was relaxed, but Freya enjoyed the hold just the same. It was warmth and safety, and it was Nikolai. She'd have him in any way she was allowed. The pads of her fingers rubbed over the skin around his clavicle, sometimes dipping beneath the loose-fitting cream shirt he always wore to bed. She had a similar one that she stole from him because she didn't have any clothing of her own. Many of the female sailors on board had lent her a few pieces, so she had enough to make do, but she took extra comfort in being wrapped in Nikolai's scent as she slept.

It was peaceful like this, lying in the dim room beside him. If there was ever a sanctuary, this was it, and she never wanted to leave. She'd just been lulled into a state close to sleep when a crash and a bang behind the door abruptly broke her peace.

With a sharp inhale, Freya shot into a sitting position. There was a dagger that she kept at her side since she'd escaped the drüskelle. And her brother. She grasped it tightly in her hand. Nikolai was up in a second, grabbing onto her shoulder and curling an arm around her waist even as her head spun and her ears rang.

"It's alright," he breathed right beside her ear. No, it certainly wasn't because it would only take a second for whatever attacker was behind the door to bust in and try to take her away. Nikolai dropped his head to her shoulder and kissed the spot where it met her neck. "You're alright, you're safe. It's just my idiot crew."

Freya stilled at that but didn't take her eyes off the door or lower her dagger by even an inch. She strained her ears and listened. Sure enough, she heard another bang, followed by a loud fit of drunken laughter and a voice she thought she recognised. She exhaled shakily, letting Nikolai take the dagger from her hand and set it aside. His arms returned to their place around her immediately.

"Alright?" he asked, even though they both knew the answer was a firm no. Her heart beat painfully in her chest, so quickly that she felt like a rabbit caught in a snare. A pinching pain burst at the base of her skull, feeling more like fire spreading than an actual headache. Nikolai pushed her hair behind her ear, then kissed her cheek and temple. "You are safe. I will protect you against anyone who would want to hurt you."

"My brother said something similar to me once. Then he clamped chains around my wrists and tried to drag me to the Ice Court." The words hurdled past her lips before she could think and her heart stopped. She hadn't told him that yet. From her peripheral, she watched as Nikolai's face twisted and curled with a dozen different emotions all at once. Shock, confusion, anger, frustration, sadness and then pity. She hated that one more than anything. Pity wasn't something she wanted from him.

"Then he is cruel," Nikolai stated, nudging her chin so she would look at him. "If he could look at his younger sister and want her dead, then he isn't a good man. I'm sorry that you had to go through that." Freya shook her head and smiled sadly.

"I can't even be angry with him. The Second Army killed our whole family. I hadn't even known that until he told me." Her heart pulled itself apart with those words and her voice strained. "My idea that I would someday see my mother and sister again was stupid and naive. At least now I know the truth and can stop wishing for something out of my reach."

"Your family's death doesn't give him the right to put you to death. You're also his family," Nikolai argued, and by Djel she knew he was right, and yet she still had the need to defend Matthias' actions.

She pulled away from Nikolai, nudging across the bed until there was space between them. The message was clear and he didn't try to reach out to her, though he looked saddened by it. "How can I be angry with him for his choice to be a drüskelle when I became a soldier of the Second Army? I am just as bad as him! I killed my people for fucking Ravka and your fat lazy father."

Nikolai grimaced at the insult to his father, though he didn't argue against it. She was glad for that. Ravka's king didn't deserve someone to advocate for him. Luca's tear-streaked face flashed before her eyes. With renewed vigour, she shoved herself off the bed and began to pace the room, running her hands through her hair until it was dishevelled.

"Why couldn't I have just remained an innocent Fjerdan girl in a nameless village on the border? Why can't our two countries make peace instead of ruining millions of lives?" she ranted, tossing her hands out in exaggerated movements. Nikolai sat on the bed, watching and listening. She cut herself off before she could say any more. Pressing the heel of her hands into her eye sockets until multicoloured lights danced across the blackness of her vision, she inhaled. The stretch of her lungs allowed her to calm down at least a little bit. She needed to forget it all.

"Milaya," Nikolai's voice floated through the air, careful as if she were an easily startled horse or a rabid dog. "Come here, please," he pleaded, and Freya couldn't help but listen to him. With a heavy exhale to calm herself, she dropped her hands from her eyes, blinked to chase away the dancing lights that followed, and then clambered onto the bed with him.

The moment her body was situated on the bed properly, he grasped her pale hand in his larger one. Without so much as a word, he began running his thumb over the ridges of her knuckles, humming something that must've been an old sailor's tune, because she didn't recognise it from her time at court or anywhere else. It had a cheery lull to it, though it seemed more melancholic with Nikolai's calm, deep voice. Before long, the agitation dissolved from her body. She suddenly felt like her limbs weighed a thousand tons.

"There you are," Nikolai said, the corner of his lips turning upwards a little. "We will be in Ketterdam soon. I'm sensing you need to let loose a little." Freya raised a brow.

"Are you suggesting that you will take me to a tavern?" She might've laughed at it if she thought that wasn't where he was going with this. Nikolai shrugged, his grin widening until the skin around his eyes crinkled delightfully.

"If you'd like," he stated, squeezing her hand. "We could just check out the shops, though. Or talk a walk through the harbours. I know you were never one for getting drunk and dancing until you dropped. Or..." He lifted her hand to his mouth, turning it so he could kiss her palm while keeping eye contact with her. Something was dancing in his gaze, akin to a roaring flame. "We could do something else entirely."

Something dropped in the pit of her belly like a pebble sinking to the bottom of a lake, but she found she didn't entirely mind the sensation when it was followed by the flutter of butterfly wings and something molten in her veins. His eyes were dark, hazed with something she knew but hadn't entirely experienced yet. It was a heavy stare, and she squirmed beneath it.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" He grinned into her palm, then kissed her wrist instead, right on top of her pulse point. Freya had the overwhelming need to swallow at the sight. The way his hair was unkept from sleep and falling onto his forehead did little to help. She imagined how it would look stuck to his skin with sweat, how his brows would furrow, how the muscles would shift beneath her touch.

It stole her breath and dried out her throat, and it was only in her imagination.

"Why don't you just do it now?" she asked, though her voice was shaky and not at all sultry like she'd have preferred. She at least tried her best to look at him through her lashes, like how she'd seen Zoya do so many times. Freya didn't have the full-bodied, loud confidence of her friend, but she'd known Nikolai for a long time. She knew he found her attractive, no matter how ridiculous that thought may seem to her. Confessions of how much he adored her were forever melted into her skin by his fingers, his mouth, and his tongue, to the point that no one would ever be able to convince her of the contrary.

Nikolai chuckled, the hoarse in his throat. "When I have you for the first time, it will be in a proper bed, not on some dingy ship." Freya blinked at his words, surprised by how he spoke of his beloved ship and that the reality of what he was promising was very much real. Heat pooled in her belly, as well as her cheeks.

"Do you promise?" she asked sarcastically, but it was too breathless for him not to realise she wanted it, craved it.

"I promise." They were only a few days away from Ketterdam. It was too close. It was too far away.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Ketterdam's harbour stank of coal and gutted fish. The smog of factories filled the air with ash and covered the son with a thick cloud of dark grey. Freya had never seen a city look so bleak before, but as they followed Henrik further into the narrow allies and cluttered streets, it began to look much better. It was still filthy and ragged with some buildings looking like they'd fall over if she poked them, but others were fixed up and decorated for tourists to gawk. Large, colourful banners stretched from side to side, inviting people to enter casinos, brothels and various other establishments.

One of the buildings was a garish green with themes of the Wandering Isle sprinkled into it. The words Emerald Palace were painted on the front with large letters, and Henrik sneered at it as he walked past. Freya would've questioned it if the bouncers at the door didn't glare at him – after shooting him a look of shocked amazement, that is. There had to be some history there that Freya didn't know, or understand. As much as she wanted to ask about it, Henrik quickened his step as he walked away from the brightly coloured building.

She followed after him, Nikolai – once again tailored to look like Sturmhond –, Tolya and Tamar quick on her heels. All three of them had refused to let Freya or Henrik journey through the city alone, despite Henrik growing up there and Freya being able to take amazing care of herself, if she said so herself. It was endearing in a way, especially when she realised Tolya and Tamar wanted to help her too.

It was still difficult to open herself up to new people. Some part of her wanted to scream whenever she tried, and another wanted to run back to Ravka to see the friends she grew up with. Subconsciously, she ran her fingers over the silver fox bracelet around her wrist. She wanted to see David again. Just as she wanted to see Zoya and Luca and all the rest, even those she might've disliked, because as much as she tried to pretend otherwise, they were the only family she'd known for most of her life.

Tamar was fierce, just like Zoya, and Freya didn't want to replace her best friend. She knew it was foolish. Forming any bond with Tamar didn't erase the one she had with Zoya, but she still thought about it. Foolishly, perhaps. Tolya was a calm yet strong giant who surprisingly enjoyed poems and old epics, so unlike anyone else she'd ever known, but he was chucked into the same boat as his sister simply for being.

Freya promised herself as they walked through the crowded streets of a foreign city, that she would not lock herself away anymore. She would spar with Tamar and play cards with her and the other crew members. She would listen to Tolya's poems and legends, adding her own. She would speak to the pair of them about religion, different as theirs might be, because she'd never had anyone who understood her worship, and perhaps they would.

"We're here," Henrik muttered breathlessly, stopping abruptly in front of another building. With his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his rundown long coat, he stared up at the dimly coloured gambling house. Unlike the other flashy and gaudy structures lining the street, they'd just walked, this one was black with a few crimson accents here and there. The facade appeared relatively new, and a large silver crow with its wings spread hung above the entrance.

For a moment, all Henrik did was stare. The world kept moving around them, hundreds of tourists walking the district Freya thought was called the East Stave, but he stayed completely still, a man frozen in time. Freya stepped up to him, unsure what to say or how to comfort him but determined to say something anyway.

"You don't have to be afraid," she said simply, almost cringing at how childish it sounded. After everything Henrik went through in the past months, she doubted walking into somewhere he knew would frighten him. One of his hands came out of his pocket and he ran two fingers over the scar on his forehead.

"I know," he answered and only stared for a few more seconds before he strutted into the building. Freya once again set off after him. The bouncers at the doors let him pass, eyes wide as if they'd seen the most amazing thing in the world. They probably did, Freya thought, because they'd most likely thought him dead. One of them greeted him with a hard pat on the back before he disappeared inside, muttering about how he was going to go 'get him', whoever he was.

She followed in after Henrik, immediately hit with the bitter smell of alcohol and something that reminded her of Shu spices. She somehow doubted such an establishment could afford them, but plenty of scented oils were sold around the markets for people to use. Or maybe there was someone from Shu Han gambling in the building, despite the relatively early hours.

Henrik immediately walked over to the bar, downing a shot that was placed in front of another man. Freya thought the man would argue, that he'd shout, but the only thing he did was let out a squawk of surprise and then a laugh.

"I told you to stop stealing the drinks I paid for!" the man, most likely of Zemini origin, punched Henrik in the arm. Henrik didn't answer for a while, only smiled sadly, and the man's indignation dropped and twisted into sorrow as well.

"Believe me, I needed that drink," Henrik replied eventually, voice strained as if he could hardly fathom speaking. The man's face scrunched up as tears gathered in his eyes, and then he was pulling Henrik into his long, lanky arms. Henrik reciprocated it immediately, drawing his hands so tight around the other man that he was forced to bend his spine. "I missed you so much, Jes."

"You missed me? We thought you were dead, Henrik! Had a whole funeral and everything!" The man's voice was strained and he shook his head, tossing his tight curls into his forehead and his eyes. "How are you even here? Everyone knows that you don't escape the witch hunters!"

Henrik looked over his shoulders at Freya. "Come meet my friend," he said, and the man's – Jes, if she remembered correctly – brows shot up. Freya stepped forward, unsure in her skin all of a sudden.

"Since when do you speak Ravkan?" Jes asked in Kerch, and Henrik flinched. He shrugged, playing with the lapels of his long run-down coat.

"Since I was awaiting death with a soldier of the Second Army," he stated. Freya saw how Jes threw her a bewildered look, then scanned the group of people behind her. They had looked like an interesting bunch, to say the least. A Fjerdan girl who was supposedly a Grisha soldier, a red-haired man with a broken nose and a ridiculous teal frock coat, a Shu woman who looked ready to attack anyone with her vicious axes and her giant of a brother who carried a book at his waist. Interesting indeed. "Jesper, where are the rest of them?"

So that was his full name, Freya thought. She'd thought the name sounded strange, but frankly, there were enough weird names in the world. She rolled the name around on her tongue. It was pleasant, similar to the owner of it (at least from what she'd seen). His head jerked around as he looked around the gambling den.

"I don't know, Inej was here somewhere-"

"Henrik!" a girl's voice resonated throughout the large space. The few patrons who were present despite the early hour stopped what they were doing to watch as a girl ran down the stairs and practically launched herself towards Henrik. She was short and slim, dressed in tightfitting deep violet and black clothing with at least a dozen daggers hidden about her form. A long, brown braid swept behind her.

She crashed into Henrik almost violently, but he withstood the force and pulled her so tight to his body that Freya thought he might break some of her bones. The girl was grinning broadly, but there were still tears in her eyes. This must be her, Freya realised. The girl Henrik had spoken of on the ship. She looked Suli. Her skin was a similar bronze to Zoya's and their hair was the same colour and similar texture. It tugged painfully at her heart like a regret.

"I didn't believe Rotty when he said you were here!" the girl breathed, pulling away from Henrik but still staying close enough to him to grip his forearms. "I'm so glad you're back!" From what Henrik had told her, Freya knew the girl understood their situation all too well. She wondered if being held as a slave was worse than being hauled to your death. She suspected it was, and felt her chest tighten at the thought of this girl – so tiny and thin and young – being stolen from her home. She still had the roundness of youth softening her face.

"I am glad as well! Who would make sharpen your knives or fix Kaz's cane every time you idiots got into trouble?" Henrik chuckled, a sound Freya heard only a few select times. "But believe me, it was not by my doing. I honestly wish I'd paid more attention when Kaz showed me how to pick locks."

"You picked locks just fine," Freya remarked with a raise of one brow, crossing her arms over her chest. "Or was I hallucinating when you broke us out of that warehouse?" Henrik elbowed her in the ribs.

"Picking the lock of a warehouse window is easy! It's the shackles that were hard!" he told her, though she doubted anyone would ever be able to pick the shackles binding them to metal poles. She rolled her eyes and he grinned in return. It was then she noticed the Suli girl eyeing her with widened eyes, face slack with shock.

"I know you." Freya blinked.

"Pardon?" The girl almost instantly dropped to her knees, holding her hands in front of her in a way Ravkans did as they prayed.

"Forgive me, Sankta. I did not recognise you." Oh, Freya thought, staring down at the girl in bewilderment. She'd known some people worshipped her, that much she'd learned from Afiya in Weddle and later from Nikolai as he told her of Ravka's people mourning her. But she didn't think she'd ever see it first-hand and to such a degree.

"Please, get up," Freya begged. "I am no saint! And I do not even know your name."

The girl looked up at her but didn't get up from her place. Her eyes were the deepest brown Freya had ever seen. They sparkled like a pool of glistening obsidian as she breathed out with wonder.

"Inej," she said. "Inej Ghafa."

A/N

EVERYONE SHUT UP AND LOOK AT THIS MANIP GIF xanderherondale MADE FOR ME

I'm genuinely so sorry for not updating this book since mid-November, but there's been so much going on in my life that I've only been able to update books that I was only editing or the chapters were in some way prewritten.

Those of you who follow me and look at my message board know I'm currently taking a break from wattpad for the sake of my mental health to avoid the pressure of updating frequently (something I very much fail at rip), but I finished this chapter and decided to publish it for you guys anyway. I don't know how much longer my break is going to take, it could be a week or a month or even more, but I'll definitely try to pre-write some chapters for you guys at least in some way!

I love this book (and other books in this series) and you guys so much and I'm so sorry I've been a little MIA lately. Hopefully, it'll get back on track soon!

ALSO it's almost been a year since this book was published (only a few more weeks) and that is WILD to me. It feels like only yesterday that I came up with the plot! I want to say that I'm so incredibly grateful to those of you who support me and my books (whichever one it is). You guys mean the absolute world to me and are honestly the reason why I keep on writing!

ALSO PT. 2 this is me officially asking if you guys wanna see smut or if you want to keep in PG. I honestly don't care and could go either way.