nothing.

     –– Dark hair, quiet and soft voice. He reminded him an awful lot of someone but he wouldn’t want to be presumptuous and wasn’t the whole point of the ball was to hide one’s identity behind a mask? Hand taking a new glass from a passing maid, handing it to the other man, his dark eyes looking straight in him through his mask. “One for you, my friend, you looked rather tired. Too much dancing? Or not a fan of these kinda function in general?” Whatever the reason was, he could understand. Always liking parties and the likes but this time, the guests were too many, it’s as if the ballroom was going to explode.

the ( newly ) brunette woman was alost surprised that she was being approached by lukas gorchakov and if she hadn’t been pretending to be someone else she would have almost openly laughed in his face. she vaguely remembered dancing with him at a ball many years ago, when they were far less skilled in many arts. as he bowed before her tonight, though, she bent down into a deep curtsey, down casting her eyes before standing once more to look up at him with a gentle smile on her face. making sure to keep her accent hidden ( and instead, covered it with one that sounded vaguely french ), she agreed. “it would be an honor, kind sir.” 

            he had given his thoughts time, and he had given himself space. for an entire night, he had paced relentlessly, his boots wearing deep marks into his furred rugs as he turned away whichever visitors his chambers would normally see. from his betrothed, to the mother of his child, from his most trusted guards to his beloved jewel of a sister. all faces he would at any other time have been all too happy to see, to give his time and attentions to, but as he wore grooves into his soles, then the floor beneath him, there was only ONE face he had wanted to see, only one, and he had not shown.

            it was too small of an act to properly label betrayal, and too big of one to be anything ELSE. entirely unfair, and all the more heartbreaking. nikolai was not a man who could follow his own whims, and see to his own pleasures. his feelings were meant to be the LAST of things to consider in his decisions, in his choices that would effect entire NATIONS. he was a prince before he was a man, words he would die for before he ever forgot, and yet, the feelings of one’s heart were hardly something to be overlooked. he loved a man, although promised to another, and he would have given anything, EVERYTHING—— if only a country did not own him first. 

            the first born, the future KING. never had nikolai hated the words more, his position more. not when his brother, his beloved little brother, who at one point in time he would have given his everything for ( still would, he knew ) had the only thing in life he had ever wanted so BADLY. nikolai had a throne, perhaps, a title, but what good were those when each glance, each second, was just a moment more of the sinking realization that he truly had nothing in the face of his heart?

          the prince’s flirting caused the chancellor to chuckle, highly amused. he would have never thought the same phrases he’d heard the man use with women around the castle would be used on himself. it seemed entirely crazy that they were in this position and not a minute went by where lukas didn’t think about that. in fact, he was in his own personal war with himself on what to do next. everyone prided him on being noble, honorable, and he always thought himself as that. did this make him wrong? would a noble man sleep with his best friend’s brother? even happier than he had been in a long time, he still felt a pang of guilt every time he thought of the older man. his heart had not wavered on who it belonged to, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about a future where it did. alexei was a special man, that was for certain --- but did he deserve that, at the cost it brought? could he imagine themselves as anything other than secret?

           lukas had loved nikolai since they were children and he couldn’t think of a time where he didn’t feel as strongly as he did. the man was his best friend, he had killed for him and would die for him. in every choice, he’d choose nikolai. it bothered him, always forcing himself never to ask the question of who he’d choose. there had never been a choice to be made, but now it seemed as if he somehow had to make one. lukas’ loyalty would always belong to the crown prince of russia, but was it time to grow up and accept the prince’s love would never be his? it seemed as if he could never NOT love the man, but there was the possibility that maybe he should love another. his heart seemed to dictate his thoughts and that was truly the most troublesome about the matter.

          looking back upon her decisions in hindsight, lucrezia knew she had done the right thing in pushing for the night’s event. with masquerades themselves originating from her country, with the memory of endless masks and buried secrets making their way among the flow of skirts and passing whispers, though the tension had hardly eased from the day foreign nobles first began arriving, she had believed a joyous event to be —— not an answer, but perhaps a distraction enough to render their paranoia void. thinking over her own standing, it was highly unlikely, but it never hurt to try. the fact that a masquerade only furthered her ability to spy into the lives of the very nobles who would be in attendance? simple coincidence, she was sure. but in a place of such secrets, of such concealment—— she was MEANT to break out of her shell. 

          for that night, she was NOT lucrezia adalberto, the beloved jewel of italy, but instead another nameless face, another mask in the night. unknown, unhindered. it was a planned night, and by her plans, all would go WELL. she would see to it.   ❛   so how much time would YOU give it before the first of the fights break out? we’ve been drinking for quite the while now, haven’t we? i reckon SOMEONE must have passed the point of intoxication by this time.   ❜   

           he’d never been very good at dancing. lukas had never considered himself graceful and had never put in effort to move like he’d watched royals do. instead he watched, a goblet full of wine in his hand to accompany him through the night. his mask fit loosely on his face but still felt comfortable. the chancellor’s biggest insecurity was hidden, the large scar he’d gained during the war, as well as who he was. it was a perfect time to look past titles and appearances, finally getting to know those who had shared italy with him. maybe he’d make a friend, learn something important -- but mostly, he expected to forget his troubles and enjoy the night.

   ‘– you know, i don’t know what’s more difficult … maneuvering the dance floor or a battlefield. ah !! i jest, what do YOU think of it ?? ‘

      –– In his eyes, the masquerade was nothing but an extension of the summit meeting. Already a few people came up to him with their talks of politics –– even though it was cleverly masked and vague, like all of their faces, careful not to reveal who they were before marcos did his. But of course he just sauntered away. Today was a day he did not want to talk about it. All the peace talk he deemed as balderdash. Perhaps as the day progressed. But right now it’s all demanding and threatens when their demands were not made. Even a child knew that’s not the right way around it. He sighed into his glass, dark eyes traveling into the person who had snuck beside him. Offering a smile and tilting up his glass, he parted his lips, “Lovely night is it not?”

            the italian monarchy, it seemed, had a way of planning things up so they went against the tide of any sort of personal agenda nikolai stood to have. from their offer of peace coming mere battles before russia could claim itself victorious over another some monarchs here and countries there, and then their hosting of the peace conventions coming into play only weeks before his wedding would have. italy, for all its beauty and cautious alliance, simply seemed to hate nikolai on a somewhat personal level. after all, however else would his search for lukas have been so timely as for him to have seen things he shouldn’t have? to hear things he would have happily lived lifetimes never knowing? nikolai was no FOOL, but for this one thing, just the one, he knew he would have happily played the part. 

            in any other situation, in one where he KNEW what the outcome had to be, he had long ago accepted the truth of his position, and that of lukas next to him, and he knew. he knew how things had to be, but for alexei to have been the one to step in? ANYONE, and nikolai could have let it go ( or so he reminds himself, forces himself to remember ) anyone, but not alexei, not his brother. not when the simple sight of them together, a grin on an all too familiar face, regardless of a mask or no ( as if a MASK could hide the face he dreamt of each night, could shroud him in mystery when nearly half his life he had barely spared a glance elsewhere ) not when nikolai knew lukas better than the back of his own hands. he knew lukas, and he knew the smile upon his face, the ease to his shoulders. small things, arguably irrelevant, but the only things he could take for himself in a world where his fate had been long since decided. he had always claimed the small things for himself, where the larger things could never stand to hold, but no longer it seemed, as his own fists clenched tightly at his side, the mask in place the only thing to hide the hurt —— the blaze of ANGER in his eyes. NO LONGER.

   ❛   i told you i’d show, did i not? i’m a man of my word, alexei.   ❜   he returned, a gleam in his eyes. honor was something lukas had always prided himself on, one of the only things he acknowledged about himself that he liked. in that same way it was ironic that they’d been anything at all, knowing the possible consequences. he wouldn’t think about those things tonight, though, because he wanted one night where he could enjoy himself and not think about how this could never work. being himself was exhausting and in his attire, he was anyone but himself. the room had been decorated beautifully and he barely knew anyone enough to recognize them. anyone he wanted to be, anything he wanted to do, this was the time. he hid behind a plastic mask that gave him the power to embrace what he wasn’t. it would be a good night, one he wouldn’t dare to waste.

it was no secret to alayna, the gossip that floated around this castle. she paid careful attention to everything that she heard – especially when in the presence of lucrezia, who had her ‘little birds’ all over rome. it was alayna’s business and trade to be in the know, considering her resources it would have been ashamed to purposefully keep herself in the dark. after all, secrets are the most valuable form of currency.

her hands folded in front of herself gently as her brows raised in interest as she watched the man before her. “that’s a very dangerous stance you’ve taken, lukas, with your hand so close to the hilt of your sword,” her words were sharp but low, low enough for only themselves to hear. “do you intend to cut me down here in this hallway? my letters may have been burned, but just because you burn them doesn’t mean that the information is suddenly untrue. how do you think nik would feel knowing that you have known for nine years he has a son? and you didn’t say a word.” 

though others would have felt guilt for throwing such words in the face of another, alayna had no remorse – especially not with what she was saying to lukas. alayna would likely scream the next time she heard someone say she abandoned nikolai in the middle of the night. it was no secret that she’d dropped everything and everyone in her life to go to war, just like almost every other human being in this god forsaken city.

“my so-called betrayal was in the name of russia. i left to defend my country, to lead almost a fourth of the army in the place of my now-dead father and brothers, who died on the front lines. it was my pledged duty. if i hadn’t gone to war, i would have brought more shame on my house than would have been reparable.” alayna was sick of defending herself, of defending her actions from a decade ago and it was upsetting more than anything. how could two people hate her so much for doing what she thought was right? 

tears began to sting at her eyes as she shook her head before tipping her head back and gently running her fingers along her waterline to collect the small tears that had started to form. he didn’t want to see waterworks and she could already feel his disgust brewing over her tears. fake, she could hear in her head. you look fake. like you’re trying to feel more guilty than you genuinely are. the guilt ate at her, though, especially when she looked at her son. she was so guilty for not fighting for the life he deserved. the life of a legitimate man than a bastard boy. 

her words cut deep, as much as he didn’t want to admit that to himself. just as much as he knew about her, she knew about him and that made him extremely uneasy. holding up a wall between her and his thoughts didn’t matter, as the things he wanted to hide were already known to her. if they hadn’t already had a rocky past, that alone would have made her an enemy. they were poison to each other and that was something neither of them would forget.

“what do you take me for, alayna?” he snapped in regards to his sword. the last time he used the weapon had been during the war, and he wasn’t hoping to change that anytime soon. despite his own hatred for the woman, he’d never act on malice against her. his sword was used in battle and to protect, neither applying to alayna.

lukas pressed his lips together and shook his head, wondering why he’d even bothered. he didn’t need to explain himself to her. she didn’t deserve to know his approach to the situation and what she’d missed out on. the chancellor had dealt with her letters in the way he’d been instructed and there was no more to say on the matter. if he’d ever thought alayna would return to their lives and that her son would be among them, lukas would have come clean to his friend. the conclusion had been simple, though -- she and her son would not return, so what would be the point?

alayna was thankful that she wasn’t doing much ( if anything ) in favor of russia. she was pleasantly floating through her allies and friends, finding peace and open arms wherever she found herself, particularly with the italians. she was proud of lucrezia in general, finding many things admiral about her – especially in the face of gossip and those who didn’t like her. though alayna wished she could take a note from her friend’s actions, it wasn’t hard to sink to lukas’ level with sharp words. 

“seems as though someone still has a bitter taste in his mouth, lukas, assuming you’ve read my letters. my last decade has been spent at war, and my last nine years have seen the addition of my son,” alayna would stake her life that someone had read the letters she’d sent about viktor’s health and safety. about how she wasn’t looking for anything, just for nikolai to know. it put the thought of those nights she wrote the letters with tears in her mind at the forethought of her mind and she almost wished she could punch him right there in the hallway. in retaltion, she shot back: 

“how has your life been as you continue to pine over nikolai? or have you finally moved on to alexei. i’m so behind on my castle gossip, you’ll have to forgive me.” it was true that she’d been behind in castle gossip, but she wasn’t behind on what was happening with lukas and alexei ( and the rest of the russians ). 

hate was not a word lukas liked to throw around without merit, but the word certainly held significance in regards to the woman in front of him. years ago he’d been foolish enough to think she was an equal in competition, only to realize she’d never been apart of the game. she had loved his prince, something he at one time returned, only to have her leave in the dark night and never return. wanting the best for nikolai, lukas came to despite alayna and the way she’d ditched something so worthwhile. she could have had everything, even been the queen of russia, but the woman had thrown it all away. now the thought of having her as his queen made him sick to his stomach.

“i have not forgotten how you betrayed nikolai,” he corrected, his tone cold. it was true --- even though the prince had instructed him to burn the letters, and he’d done so, the chancellor had worried enough to read them before hand. the question was whether or not he’d admit that or lie to watch her squirm. “your letters were burned, alayna. it doesn’t matter what was in them, whether i read them or not... they’re just ashes now.” one bastard had been enough of a strain, struggling to keep the topic private, but two? he knew he should have announced what was in the letters to nikolai, but he never thought they’d see alayna again.