Nikolai was used to being disappointed. His entire life, he'd been let down by those around him. Vasily was never interested in being his brother, his parents never truly cared about him, and he'd never found anyone he truly loved or wanted to settle down with. Except you. And you had been forced to marry his brother. He'd enlisted the day of the wedding. Nikolai couldn't stand the sight of you walking down the aisle, and not walking to him.

But everything had changed, now. The Darkling was dead. Ravka wasn't separated by The Fold anymore, Fjerda was getting stronger and encroaching on Ravka's borders. He was King. He was King of an entire nation. All alone. His brother was dead, his parents exiled.

Of course, he had Genya and David and Zoya, but they didn't know the intricacies of politics. They didn't know how to keep the noble families from tearing each other's throats out, or how to set up a dinner party to get them to pour more money into Grisha research when they hated Grisha.

But you did.

"Please. I'm begging you at this point," Nikolai whined, flashing the emerald again. You'd been the crown princess. Trained for this since birth. And he was absolutely in love with you, been he'd rather face the Darkling again than admit he's loved you since he was fifteen.

"You were supposed to be Queen. I know you've never wanted to be forced into marriage. I know you hated Vasily, and I know I left you. I'm sorry." He sighed, looking up at you again, still on his knees begging you. In his own damn chambers.

"But you wanted to be on the throne, and you'd be *perfect." His golden eyes were pleading, a small pout on his face. "Please, love. You're my best friend. Do this for me?"