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His response made her blink, completely taken aback. Then she frowned at him, thinking he could be mocking her, even if that was thoroughly unlikely. "What?" So surprised was she that she automatically lapsed back into English. "No--Nikolai, that's not--what are you talking about?"

As if she'd ever let her father take him away! "You know I'd never let anyone do that to you, Nikolai!" Her brows drew down even farther. "You belong to me, and no one else!" And that he thought her tirade just some girlish, silly...game stung her even harder.

"Did I sound like I was dictating a game to you, Nikolai? I was absolutely serious, and telling you that way was just to make you listen, since you didn't seem to want to otherwise!" Again, she stomped a small foot, hands balled in to fists at her sides. "I'm not a child anymore! And I don't want you to treat me like one!"

"And your family showed me I was allowed to be a man with my own thoughts and not a slave dictated by the thoughts and whims of others," Nikolai says back. "But instead of listening to me the way a woman should listen to a man and vice versa, you ordered me to bed you under Imperial edict. I was wrong, yes, but do you see how what you did was wrong too?"

Nikolai swallows and balls his left hand into a fist. "Before I came here, I was told to do everything you and your father said. If you'd been an adult then and ordered me to your bed, I would have done it just to keep myself from the ice out of fear. Ordering me to bed you makes me feel like I have to do it or suffer consequences. It doesn't allow me the freedom of my own choices to say yes or no. Do you see that?"

Hearing it thrown back at her that way brought her up short. And she couldn't help the sheen of humiliated tears that threatened to spill over as she realized exactly what she had done. Her temper abruptly evaporated, leaving the Grand Duchess of Imperial Russia standing there in her old flannel pajamas, feeling like an absolute fool.

Her hands relaxed, falling limp at her sides, and Natalia suddenly lowered her head, feeling chastised and ashamed. She started to speak, no words came, and then she abruptly closed her mouth, shaking her head so that her long hair hid her face from him.

"...Ni-Nikki..." But she couldn't go any further; she felt the weight of guilt hit her like a ton of bricks, and a small, hitched sob managed to escape before she pressed a hand over her mouth, biting at her fingers to keep from crying out loud. She'd been a childish idiot, a shameful, brazen harlot, and she'd cut to the core one of the only men she'd ever in her young life loved.

It took all of the strength she possessed, but Natalia did eventually manage to make the briefest eye contact with the soldier still kneeling on the floor, and whisper, "...I'm sorry," in broken Russian, before she turned and ran off of the terrace towards the beach, hating the feel of her own skin right now.

Nikolai is aware that a fifteen year old girl has no idea what words can mean, especially not one well-intentioned like Natalia, and what she'd thought was a way to get what she wanted ended up fraying the bond between them. It takes him a while to pick himself up off the floor but instead of going to find her, as he should, he decides to take his wounded heart to his own bed instead.

There are other security guards here. He isn't the only one in the entire compound and he's allowed a night off. When's the last time he's had a night off anyway? Never. He strips back down to his underwear and opens the window so the sound of waves and the smell of salt air can come in. That's as relaxing as he can make it before he curls up in a bed that's too soft and forces himself into sleep.

Well after sunset, Natalia trudged back up to the house, the roaming guard at the terrace gate giving her a nod, followed by a strange look when he realized that she was alone, but she didn't bother to explain. A glance up at the house revealed the window to Nikolai's adjoining room open, thus it was hardly a surprise that he wasn't waiting for her in her own quarters. And the door between their bedrooms was, for the first time in her memory, closed.

But she couldn't help it; curiosity and a healthy dose of responsibility, prodded by her aching heart, had her ghosting across to try and open that particular door, and to her surprise the knob turned easily under her hand. The yard lights were just enough for her to make out the familiar form unmoving in the bed, his back to the door, but she didn't doubt he'd heard her approach, and that a weapon lay in his hand or dangerously close to it.

Natalia retreated, still feeling far too much like a fool to even murmur his name, and after brushing her teeth and washing her face - she looked moderately horrible after sobbing uncontrollably for two straight hours - she crawled into her own bed, unable to help curling around Nikolai's pillow and inhaling deep draughts of his scent. Tears splashing on its case, the little princess closed her eyes and silently cried, knowing she'd never sleep tonight.

Nikolai had heard when the door pushed in and held his breath, surprised that Natalia hadn't crawled into bed beside him. She didn't, though, so the next morning he showered and dressed well before dawn and got things together for the Grand Duchess to go to the beach, if she wanted it. He doesn't have friends aside from her but he's usually cheery enough with Mati and the household staff - except for today.

He bolts down breakfast mechanically before Natalia is awake and waits in the back hall of the house reading a newspaper, trying to look nonchalant when he's anything but. If she needs to go out, he hopes she won't be stubborn enough to do it alone.

She'd actually managed a few hours of sleep, just not consecutively. Therefore, there were dark circles beneath her eyes when she finally staggered out of her bedroom in search of breakfast. Mati had prepared a feast, as usual, but the housekeeper's art was somewhat lost on the princess as Natalia ate automatically, trying and failing not to notice the empty chair at her right.

Mati tried to get her to engage, but Natalia simply gave yes or no responses until the busy housekeeper gave up, having seen Nikolai in the back hallway and was intuitive enough to know that something had gone wrong. But Mati gave Natalia the news anyway, since the princess's press coordinator was already on her way.

"Roberta will be here in half an hour, Natalia," Mati told her, refilling the girl's juice. "She has your schedule for this week, as well as some other events she'd like you to attend. Might be fun, no?" A noncommittal shrug was the only answer, so Mati simply sighed and left the girl to her silence, hoping whatever had happened blew over soon.

When Roberta comes, she has a schedule for Natalia that includes a beach party with royals from the Greek and Danish royal houses. It's a good thing, Nikolai thinks, for her to have a chance to be around people her own age and not just him and the rest of the staff.

"It will be quite an event!" Roberta says chirpily. "And plenty of photographers. We'll get Mr. Aleksandrovich in a suit so he doesn't stick out so much and you'll be on your way to have fun. You won't even notice he's there."

The idea of a beach party made her want to gag, right now. But there was no getting out of it; Roberta had seen to that. Although the woman's comment about Nikolai sparked enough energy for the princess to snap, "He has a suit, Roberta. And he wears it very well." But she didn't elaborate on Nikolai's absence; she simply let the rest of Roberta's team shuffle her back to her bedroom to get her ready for this idiotic foolishness.

While the princess was suffering agonies 'getting ready', Roberta went in search of Nikolai. "Good morning," the woman greeted with a brief nod, even at this hour professional and poised. She handed over a few manila folders, saying, "Dossiers on all the principles at this outing, the Princess's press schedule for the week, and a list of public events where she'll need to put in an appearance."

Riffling further through her briefcase, Roberta went on, "I have her scheduled for the opera tomorrow night, escorted by one of the Greek boys from the beach party, the ambassador's nephew, Jason Baros. Good kid, clean cut, a bit skinny, you know how they are. It's formal, so black tie is required." Her eyebrow went up. "And please, no visible weaponry for this one?"

Nikolai manages to find a tuxedo that accommodates his gun rig without looking horribly out of place and gets ready to escort the Grand Duchess and her date to the opera. Jason's security offered to handle it or split the duty but Nikolai had narrowed his eyes and muttered he would handle it on his own.

He hasn't spoken to Natalia since their fight but the night of the opera, he has to so he cuts across her bedroom while she's behind the screen and leans against the wall. It isn't the comfortable camaraderie he's used to but he needs to give her instructions.

"You remember your safety words, yes? And that I walk you to and from every bathroom trip, every breath of fresh air, every moment you could possibly be alone? We have to be sure of your safety in such an open event, especially since your father is also on tour right now."

The beach party the day before had been...pointless, leaving her with a mild sunburn and a headache afterwards, so her 'primping' team had had to quickly make changed to her wardrobe and hair to accommodate the softly pink skin along her shoulders and upper back. But it didn't sting, thank goodness, and the gown they'd given her was soft fabric and not nearly as form fitting as she'd expected.

It took her a bit to wiggle into it, however, given that she only had two hands, and it wasn't too much of a surprise when she heard the adjoining door open and Nikolai's stern footsteps crossing her bedroom, then his voice as he began to speak, just on the other side of her dressing screen. They hadn't really spoken since the evening of their arrival, and she didn't have words enough to express how much she'd missed him. She hadn't sleep in two nights. And had taken no end of scolding for the dark circles beneath her eyes, which had ended in half an hour of concealer and blending.

Natalia didn't answer immediately, but when she did her voice was flat, monotone, and more than a little sad. "Da. I know. I haven't forgotten."

"If you want to leave early, just let me know. You're not obligated to stay the whole time."

This is a little less flat than before. Perhaps he isn't cultured but the opera isn't his favorite even if he does have good Italian, German and French and he hopes she'll want to leave early and spare him the torture of it. His luck, she won't.

"I'll be standing in the back of the box. I'll let the boy escort you in."

Madame Butterfly wasn't exactly her most favorite musical, but Roberta had insisted, and Natalia hadn't had the will to argue with her. If she could manage leaving early, she definitely would. Perhaps feigning a headache wouldn't be such a chore, as her temples already throbbed, despite the painkillers she'd taken with lunch earlier.

She sighed, stepping out from behind the screen, her lavender gown a little lopsided, but she didn't really care. The princess just went about fetching her shoes and sitting down on the edge of her bed to strap them on. "I don't really want to go in the first place. Roberta insisted."

Natalia didn't look at him, but then she didn't have to. Every feature, every line of muscle was ingrained into her memory; she didn't have to see him to know he was there. And no doubt he looked absolutely gorgeous in the suit he'd been inveigled to wear, but she didn't think she'd be able to admire him in it without crying.

"It's good to be seen," Nikolai says tightly. "Better you than me. I would rather be invisible."

He wishes he could be invisible right now, honestly, but this is his job and he loves her too much not to protect her to the best of his ability. When she steps out from behind the screen, he has to stifle his reaction to how she looks. She's tired and a bit pink but she looks lovely, too, and he wishes he could just hold her. Instead, he offers his arm to her.

"We're going to meet them at the opera house. We have a driver as usual, so I'm not occupied."

"I don't want to be seen," she retorted a little curtly. "I look awful. And lavender fabric, pink skin, and red hair do not go together." But she'd refused to argue with the twittering birds who'd insisted otherwise. The princess just tossed her loose curls over one bare shoulder, somehow managed to take Nikolai's offered arm without meeting his eyes, and let him lead her out to the car, wishing she could just crawl back into her safe but lonely bed and cry her eyes out. Again.

Jason, at least, was somewhat happy to see her. He took her hand immediately after the door opened, and grinned like a happy scarecrow when she stepped out of the car to the flash of cameras, stinging her eyes and making them water slightly. Other "high profile" individuals were making their entrances too, so the Russian Imperial Princess was only too happy to fade into the crowd. Regardless of the dark swath of shadow not too far behind.

Nikolai keeps close to her and the boy, making sure no one draws too close be it photographer or fan. Once they're in the opera box, it's easier, but Nikolai still keeps his eyes on Natalia and not the opera or her companion. All he cares about is her.

The slope of her neck is beautiful, even pink as it is, and the fall of curls makes him want to just thrust his hands in her hair while he kisses her. Why had things gotten so complicated? He couldn't let her think he was some toy to be commanded, he had thoughts and feelings of his own, but he missed her desperately.

He steps closer during one of the louder pieces, fingertips of his left hand tripping along the slope of her neck.

The musical was loud, not helping her throbbing headache any at all. But Jason was enjoying himself, giving her a smile every so often. And squeezing her hand to let her know he cared. He was a good boy, Natalia knew. All of the higher society's children who had spent summers here had more or less grown up together, as children did, and Jason had had been a on-again, off-again friend for many years. But even though Roberta had encouraged her to work on being more than friends, Natalia simply wasn't interested.

It was the man who'd brushed cool titanium fingers against her neck that made her shiver, that increased her heartbeat, that made her tip her head against his left arm and feel the unyielding metal beneath the fine fabric covering that fascinating appendage. Nikolai... She wanted to tell him to sweep her up and take her home, that she was sorry, that she missed him desperately, and to please forgive her.

But she was right in the middle of the public eye, and doing so was taboo. So she did the next best thing, which was to slip out of her chair, assure Jason she was just going out for a breath of air, and head for the corridor, knowing her silent shadow would be close on her heels.

"Where do you want to take your breath?"

Nikolai has to stay beside her at all times whether he wants to or not and while he wants to just bring her home and hold her so they could make up for not speaking for what has to be the longest stretch of time since they've known one another, he can't. He can't just take her away from a date that has been so carefully arranged.

"There's a terrace over here if you want to use that. I scoped it out earlier."

"That's fine."

The princess let her guardian escort her to the terrace, where the beach lights shone like beacons, sending their glow crackling over the waves beyond. The wind was cool, but not cold, and the clouds were gathering overhead; surely a storm would break before dawn. Natalia didn't mind; she loved this sort of weather.

She meandered across the wooden platform, lowering her lashes as the salty air and the calm quiet helped soothe her headache, but was all too conscious of her shadow so close but yet so far away. She longed to reach for him, to walk hand in hand across the sand as they watched the waves in sweet silence, but she kept her arms crossed, fingers tucked beneath them, to avoid temptation altogether.

Nikolai wants to touch her, too. He manages not to by leaning against the railing and pulling out his cigarettes; it's open enough here that he doesn't mind smoking in close proximity to Natalia and he desperately needs the nicotine after going the better part of two days without a single puff. Perhaps it's more psychological than anything else but he's been stressed and keeping a close eye on his charge and wanting to be diligent even while upset has made him edgy and upset. Everything about this whole situation has upset him.

He takes a deep drag off his cigarette and exhales, toying with the idea of blowing rings like he used to when Natalia was younger because he liked to see her laugh. "Tell me if it gets in your face and I'll move."

Turning to stroll back the opposite way, Natalia spied Nikolai not far, as she'd figured, but pulling out his smokes and casually leaning against the balustrade. Her heart jerked for a new reason altogether, as those precious memories of her childhood and his part in it swam to the forefront of her eyes.

But she was saved from breaking right down into miserable tears by a quasi-familiar voice calling her name, and a lanky form appearing in the light from the House corridor.

"Nattie?" It was Jason, no doubt come to check on her. Indeed, he hurried over and took both of her hands in his, smiling softly and lifting them to place a gentle little kiss on her knuckles. "It's intermission," he reported, "and I was a little worried about you, so..." The youth hurriedly shucked off his jacket and draped it around Natalia's shoulders; she gave him a wan little smile.

"Are you okay?" Apparently he didn't miss the weariness etched across her face.

She shrugged and shook her head, not wanting him to fuss over her. "I'm...okay. Just a little headache, is all. It's really loud in there."

Jason gave the lurking shadow a brief glance, then asked, "Want to walk a little with me? Stretch the legs before the next act?" He offered his arm and the princess didn't really have much reason not to take it. So she did, allowing her "date" to lead her back across the terrace, wishing she'd have faked some worse ailment, earlier.

Nikolai tails them but keeps enough distance that they might have their own conversation. He has to wall up this part of him now and let the folly of being in love with his charge just fall away; it's not practical for him to want her like this and she'll never be able to be with him openly besides. He's exciting right now, sure, but it wouldn't last. It couldn't. Not with what he is and who she has to become.

When they get back into the opera box, he stands back against the wall and doesn't do something stupid like touch the slope of Natalia's neck while she's supposed to be on a date with someone else. He keeps his hands shoved firmly in his pockets and tries, even though he fails, to pay attention to the plot.

Jason more or less carried the conversation; Natalia gave only yes or no answers, and believed the boy had to be the biggest idiot to see that she wasn't really "here" for this particular episode. But she was shuffled back to their VIP box seats in time for the next curtain call, and wanted to weep in miserable frustration when the music started up again, just as loud as it had been before.

It sent her temples to throbbing.

She made it halfway through the last act before she'd had enough. Without stopping to think, or consider the ramifications, Natalia abruptly stood up, gave Jason back his jacket, stammered her apologies, and fled the box, hurrying as fast as she could in those ridiculous shoes.

Finally fetching up at the top of the stairs leading to the exit, Natalia paused for a deep breath, seeing stars still wheeling in her vision as her head throbbed unmercifully. "...Nikolai," she whispered to the dark shadow that had materialized at her side, a looming but oh-so-comforting presence, her own personal darkness, "...take me home. I want...to go home."

"I'll get the car," Nikolai says calmly. Once the car's brought around and he can ease Natalia into the backseat, he looks at her with a bit of concern; he hadn't thought the sunburn was so terrible but should he have told the PR woman to back off and let the Grand Duchess rest?

"Are you sick?" he asks quietly, sitting a little closer in the back of the car than he might have normally. He frowns a little and touches the fingertips of his right hand to her forehead.

"I didn't think you were too ill from the sun. Did I make a mistake?"

At least the interior of their car was quiet; Ivan drove quickly and carefully through Malta's narrow streets. The princess had her eyes closed and her head resting back on the flawlessly upholstered interior, giving only a soft start when she felt warm fingertips touch her forehead.

"Mm? Oh, nyet, moya zvezda," she replied quietly. "Just a headache, is all." She tried for a reassuring smile but it fell a little...flat.

"It was really loud in there, and the noise was just making my head hurt all the more." Natalia straightened, not wanting to appear like a whiny child than she already had. "I'll be...fine. When we get home and I can get out of this dress."

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