[He thinks of Zoya, her dark hair and brown skin haloed in the light of the fire. Of Alina clutching his hand the night he showed her his scars. Just as quickly as Konoha's question summons those familiar faces, he dismisses them. He has let go of his feelings for Alina, and Zoya — Zoya is too much steel, too much diamond, to ever allow something like love to soften her.

He sets down his glass, dips his head to arrange a sheepish appearance.]

Not at the moment. That is precisely the trouble.

[Nikolai supposes he can give her more than that. He saw her brushing away her fledgling tears, so he allows her to steer the conversation full tilt in the direction he suggested. Most women are fond of the topic of love matches and lonely bachelors.]

I did propose to a girl some years ago, but she preferred another man.

[Preferred him enough to turn down a large emerald ring and a place on the throne. Admittedly, that still stings. To know that there was nothing he could offer Alina to make her want him.]