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"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."

"All right," Nikolai says. She calls him moya zvezda like she always does and he hates seeing her in pain so he moves closer and slides his arm around her so she can pillow her head on his chest. He drifts his fingers through her hair to soothe her, too, and keeps his voice low so he doesn't make the headache worse.

"I'll get the peppermint oil when we get inside so you can put it on your temples," he says softly. "And turn down the lights for you. You should be feeling better once you have a chance to get in bed and be away from noises and smells and lights."

The offered arm startled her at first, but it was offered, and she was just miserable enough to take advantage. Natalia hesitated only a fraction before accepting, sliding her small arm around Nikolai's torso to hold him close as he soothed her. Her eyes closed as she inhaled his familiar, beloved scent, and she felt tears threaten her tightly-shut lids.

Natalia didn't trust herself to speak, so she merely nodded, more than willing to allow her Nikolai to take care of her. The way he always had. The way he always would. And it wasn't long before the car pulled up in the circle driveway, the yard lights glowing softly. The sound of the waves was a pleasant dullness, but the little princess didn't have very long to enjoy the view or the sounds, because the moment she stepped out of the car, her Nikki swept her up into his arms, cradling her gently.

Letting him carry her wherever he wanted, Natalia simply rested her head on his broad shoulder and soaked up his nearness, cherishing the feel of him close, near, and with her once more.

Nikolai carries her back up to her bedroom and sets her on the edge of the bed before pushing the door closed. Normally, he'd let Natalia undress herself but if she's not feeling well, he doesn't want her to have to expend any more energy than she has to and the dress is more complicated than her usual clothes.

He gets out a pair of soft, silk pajamas and lays them out on the bed before moving to start undoing her dress for her. "I'm sorry you're not feeling well," he murmurs softly. "But I'll get you tucked in and go get the oil for your temples and some tea if you want it. Don't worry about anything, printsessa."

Oh, but she was so tired. By now, her headache was just a dull throb, not too sharp but irritating and stubborn. She allowed Nikolai to help her out of the ridiculous dress, then slipped into the silk pajamas he'd brought over, but when he mentioned getting the oil and tea, she shook her head.

"I don't want any tea," she negated, sitting up further in her bed. And held out her arms, entreatingly. "I just want you, lying here with me, Nikki." Unshed tears glimmered in green eyes. "...please?" She tried to swallow a sob, and failed. "...I-I miss you...so much..."

Nikolai feels as if she's just ripped his heart from his chest and he feels awful for having made her suffer. She'd hurt him, yes, but nothing she could do to him feels as awful as this - as seeing her miserable because he'd taken a stand against her.

"I'll stay," he says softly. "I made it complicated, before." He kisses her forehead and turns his back to her to undress, letting the tuxedo jacket fall to the floor and undoing his shirt and gun rig before finishing with his trousers and stepping out of them and his shoes.

He's only in his boxers but it's enough for right now, he thinks. He doesn't think anyone would look twice at it. He tips his head toward the bed. "Move over so I can get in."

She was so tired of fighting by proxy, of being aloof and alone. Forlorn. It was horrible. But hope soared in her breast when Nikolai agreed to stay, and Natalia hurriedly moved aside, unable to help watching with greedy eyes as her beloved shed the fine raiment and returned to the bedside in more acceptable attire.

The princess kicked down the covers, rearranged the pillows, then she was shimmying down beneath the counterpane, it flung back so that Nikolai might do the same, and the second his back mat the mattress, she was in his arms, flung half-across him and sobbing without care to who might hear. She knew she shouldn't - it wasn't his fault, not any of it - but the bulwark against her sorrow had finally broken and she could hold it back no longer.

"Printsessa," Nikolai says softly, rubbing her shoulder. "Don't cry. Please don't cry. I shouldn't...I shouldn't have done what I did. I shouldn't have gotten angry with you. I should have just..."

It's something that he regrets now, having taken his stand on such a thing when he knows Natalia wouldn't have even thought of it in the context of his past, and he wishes he hadn't said anything.

"I shouldn't have said anything."

She shook her head, rubbing one eye with a small fist. "Nyet, you were right." Natalia pulled away a little to sit up in bed, head downcast and misty eyes lowered. "You were right, Nikolai," she whispered, voice soft in the calm quiet. "I was being selfish and stupid." A sniffle. "And I never should have commanded you, especially for...for that." The princess inelegantly swiped the back of her wrist across her nose.

"It was foolish, and arrogant, and...and utterly inconsiderate, taking the choice away from you." That realization had scared the very life out of her, knowing what she did about his past. "I never meant...I mean, I didn't think..." Natalia bit her lower lip, tentatively reaching out to rest her fingertips on the bicep of Nikolai's left arm. "I'd never...use you like that, moya zvezda...not ever."

A few tear-tracks still stained her cheeks, but her eyes weren't misty anymore when she looked over at her beautiful soldier, cheeks flushed and lips bitten red. "...you should be able to tell me no, whenever you want..."

"I know I haven't told you much about that time. I was used before. I was used to kill people - to assassinate people who were a threat to Imperial Russia. I took those people from their families and their friends and I didn't have a choice. They had a way of controlling my body."

It's hard, to speak of this, but it happened when Natalia wasn't even alive or so young she wouldn't be able to understand if he explained it.

"There was a book of words. They could say them and control my mind. Your father found out and was livid, destroyed the department that had me and took me for his own. He told me I would never be with them again, that I would protect his little daughter. He tore the book up in front of me so even he didn't know the words. I still remember them, though. I could never forget them."

Yes, that sounded exactly like something her father would have done. Then, the Tsar had taken this broken man, this wounded warrior, and given him to his only daughter, with good wishes and blessings, and she had broken that hard-won trust. It was enough to have her tearing up again.

"...Nikolai..." There was a sob in her tone, a waver that even her Imperial sternness couldn't hide. "I'm so sorry, moya zvezda." Natalia gingerly tucked her legs in, wrapping her arms around her knees. "Can...can you ever...forgive me?"

"I already had," Nikolai promises her. "I know you didn't mean anything by it. To you it was just...you didn't know what you were doing or what it meant. It hurt me but after I thought about it, I knew it didn't mean the same thing as it would have meant if you had the book."

He rubs his hand under her hair and against the back of her neck, down across her shoulderblades and upper back. He doesn't want her feeling miserable over him - he's hardly worth that. Besides, he's been miserable without her.

"I know you want so much. I want to give it to you but you're young, printsessa, and you're worth more than rushing into it. You deserve to explore and learn slowly with me, to not move so fast that you lose your virginity to me and feel as if I took advantage of you."

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