Page 57 of The Crown's Game
“I will, indeed, steal her,” Nikolai said to Pasha.
“You forget I outrank you,” Pasha said.
“A bit of an unfair fight from the outset, I’d say. But you underestimate the demand for me on the dance floor.” Nikolai’s brows arched over the top of his mask.
Pasha laughed again. “Believe me, I do not. Your skills are legendary. But you underestimate my charm.”
“I remain steadfast in my intention to steal her from you.”
Vika wrinkled her nose. Were they still talking about her? Yes, they were. As if she were an inanimate object. Especially Nikolai, who spoke of “stealing” her. Did he think he’d be able to carry her off like a prize without consulting her? If so, she would show him—
“But only if mademoiselle consents, of course.” Nikolai turned to Vika. “Lady Snow, may I have the honor of dancing the next mazurka with you?” He bowed.
Oh. Well, then. He had manners, so . . . Right.
The girl in the peacock gown reached out toward Nikolai as if she wanted to stop him from dancing with Vika. But when Vika looked at her, the peacock girl backed away. Who was she?
“I know even less how to dance a mazurka than I do a waltz,” Vika said as she took several steps back. She surreptitiously checked her own shields.
“I have no doubt you will dazzle the room,” Nikolai said.
Pasha bowed to her. “Thank you for the lovely waltz.”
Vika curtsied. “The pleasure was all mine. Happy birthday.”
Pasha lingered a moment longer than he needed to before he turned to the peacock girl. “May I have the honor of dancing with you?” The girl blushed and accepted. He offered her his arm, and after she cast one last look at Nikolai, they drifted away.
When they’d gone, Nikolai pointed at Vika’s gown and said, “You didn’t use my Imagination Box.” He allowed her to maintain the several steps of space between them.
Vika touched the ice on her dress. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t trust you. Should I have?”
Nikolai smiled, and there was both shyness and mischief in it. “No, I suppose you shouldn’t have. After all, I must look after myself. The armoire would have made you a beautiful gown, though.”
“Which would have squeezed me to death?”
His smile fell away, as if off a cliff. “Am I so obvious?”
“The corseting would have been convenient. Would the dress really have killed me?”
Nikolai rubbed the back of his neck. “Only if I had commanded it to.”
“Clever.”
“Not clever enough. You didn’t fall for it.” Nikolai offered her his arm.
Vika didn’t take it.
“There is no charm on my arm, I promise. You can test it.”
She hovered her hand over his sleeve. There was no hint of magic, not even anything residual on the cloth.
“The coat is an ordinary one from Bissette and Sons,” Nikolai said. “A gift last Christmas from the tsesarevich. But if you leave me standing here like this and don’t take my arm, I’ll never hear the end of it from him. Spare me his teasing, will you?”
She pursed her lips and nodded. Then she slipped her arm through his, although carefully.
