Nikolai Lantsov Quotes

I took a breath. “Your highness—” “Nikolai,” he corrected. “But I’ve also been known to answer to ‘sweetheart’ or ‘handsome.

I hope you weren’t looking to me to be the voice of reason. I keep to a strict diet of ill-advised enthusiasm and heartfelt regret.

I want to kiss you,” Nikolai said. “But I won’t. Not until you’re thinking of me instead of trying to forget him.

Stop punishing yourself for being someone with a heart. You cannot protect yourself from suffering. To live is to grieve. You are not protecting yourself by shutting yourself off from the world. You are limiting yourself.

You know the problem with heroes and saints, Nikolai?” I asked as I closed the book’s cover and headed for the door. “They always end up dead.

Most women suffer thorns for the sake of the flowers, but we who wield power adorn ourselves with flowers to hide the sting of our thorns

Jesper couldn’t quite believe he was having a conversation with the Sturmhond. The privateer was a legend. He’d broken countless blockades on behalf of the Ravkans and there were rumors that… “Do you really have a flying ship? blurted Jesper. “No.” “Oh.” “I have several.” “Take me with you.

Nikolai had been told that hope was dangerous, had been warned of it many times. But he’d never believed that. Hope was the wind that came from nowhere to fill your sails and carry you home.

Anything worth doing always starts as a bad idea.

I can’t decide if you’re a fearmonger or a coward.” “And I can’t decide if you’re an idiot or an idiot.

You never know," said Nikolai. "I've been busy. I might have some surprises in store for the Darkling yet." "Please tell me you plan to dress up as a volcra and jump out of a cake." "Well, now you've ruined the surprise.

The world might crumble, but Nikolai Lantsov would be holding up the ceiling with one hand and plucking a speck of dirt from his lapel with the other when it all went to ruin

Do that thing you do where you use too many words to say something simple and confuse the issue.

It's not exciting if nothing can go wrong.

Say something spiteful.” “Why?” she asked faintly. “Because I’m fairly certain I'm hallucinating and in my dreams you're much nicer.” “You're an idiot, Nikolai.

My mother was an oyster,” he said with a wink. “And I’m the pearl.

You’re mad,” I said. “You know what he can do. No prize is worth that.” Sturmhond grinned. “That remains to be seen.” “The Darkling will hunt you for the rest of your days.” “Then you and I will have something in common, won’t we? Besides, I like to have powerful enemies. Makes me feel important.” Mal crossed his arms and considered the privateer. “I can’t decide if you’re crazy or stupid.” “I have so many good qualities,” Sturmhond said. “It can be hard to choose.

Because I am greedy for the sight of you. Because the prospect of facing this war, this loss, without you fills me with fear. Because I find I don’t want to fight for a future if I can’t find a way to make a future with you.

And there’s no way I’m leaving you alone with Prince Perfect.” “So you don’t trust me to resist his charms?” “I don’t even trust myself. I’ve never seen anyone work a crowd the way he does. I’m pretty sure the rocks and trees are getting ready to swear fealty to him.

I saw the prince when I was in Os Alta,” said Ekaterina. “He’s not bad looking.” “Not bad looking?” said another voice. “He’s damnably handsome.” Luchenko scowled. “Since when—” “Brave in battle, smart as a whip.” Now the voice seemed to be coming from above us. Luchenko craned his neck, peering into the trees. “An excellent dancer,” said the voice. “Oh, and an even better shot.” “Who—” Luchenko never got to finish. A blast rang out, and a tiny black hole appeared between his eyes. I gasped. “Imposs—” “Don’t say it,” muttered Mal.

I suppose that's why I love you." His eyes flew open and his face lit in an extraordinary grin. "All Saints, say it again." "I will not." "You must." "I'm the queen. I must do nothing but please myself." "Would it please you to kiss me?

Maybe the gift of being human is that we do not give up- even when all hope is lost.

I like to bet on myself whenever I can. But usually with other people’s money.

A privateer learns to press any advantage.” “And a prince?” “Princes get used to the word yes.

You do realize you just referred to yourself as the queen. That means you agreed." "I am going to kill you." "So long as you kiss me again before you do.

Is that all?' said Zoya. 'Will you be taking up juggling as well?' 'Don't be ridiculous,' Nikolai replied. 'I already know how to juggle. Literally and figuratively.

What are you two doing barefoot and half naked in the mud?" asked a familiar voice. "Looking for truffles, I hope?

He had wanted her for so long that it seemed impossible he should actually have her beside him every day, that he might lay down beside her every night. Not impossible, he supposed. Just improbable.

Alina, I'll be back to fetch you for dinner, but should you grow restless, do feel free to run screaming from the room or take a dagger to her. Whatever seems most fitting at the time." "Are you still here?" snapped Baghra. "I go but hope to remain in your heart," he said solemnly. Then he winked and disappeared.

Remember who you are. Nikolai knew. He was a king who had only begun to make mistakes. He was a solider for whom the war would never be over. He was a bastard left alone in the woods. And he was not afraid to die this day.

Her time is better spent with me. The thorn wood is a path you walk alone, boy king.” “But it’s a very arduous path,” Nikolai said. “Who will carry my snacks?

Is it the shadow inside you that makes you brave?" "I should hope not. I was making bad decisions long before that thing showed up.

I would make you my queen because I want you. I want you all the time.

I'm used to being the center of attention wherever I go. I've been told I could charm the shoes off a racehorse midstride, and yet you seem impervious.

Wretched boy.” “You like him,” I said in disbelief. Baghra scowled. “Greedy. Arrogant. Takes too many risks.” “You almost sound concerned.” “You like him too, little Saint,” she said with a leer in her voice. “I do,” I admitted. “He’s been kind when he might have been cruel. It’s refreshing.” “He laughs too much.” “There are worse traits.

Do good works or commission an opera house or just take it out and gaze at it longingly when you think of the handsome prince you might have made your own. For the record, I favor the latter option, preferably paired with copious tears and the recitation of bad poetry.

But if you loved a thing, the work was never done

Great,” I said. “Now get out.” “It’s my coach.” “The deal was only for kicking. It did not prohibit slapping, punching, biting or cutting you in half.

There had been a time when words had been the only place he could find solace. No book ever lost patience with him or told him to sit still. When his tutors had thrown up their hands in frustration, it was the library that had taught Nikolai military history, strategy, chemistry, astronomy. Each spine had been an open door away whispering, Come in, come in. Here is the land you’ve never seen before. Here is a place to hide when you’re frightened, to play when you’re bored, to rest when the world seems unkind.

Don’t go,” he said, still half asleep. “I have to bathe. I smell like a forest fire.” “You smell like wildflowers. You always do. What can I say to make you stay?” His words trailed off into a drowsy mumble as he fell back asleep. Tell me it’s more than war and worry that makes you speak those words. Tell me what they would mean if you weren’t a king and I weren’t a soldier.

He knew what Zoya would say: You are owed nothing. Steel is earned. Remember who you are.

None of this had been fated; none of it foretold. There had been no prophecies of a demon king or a dragon queen, a one-eyed Tailor, Heartrender twins. They were just the people who had shown up and managed to survive. But maybe that was the trick of it: to survive, to dare to stay alive, to forge your own hope when all hope had run out.

Only he looked to the stars and demanded more.

Not bad looking? He’s damnably handsome. Brave in battle, smart as a whip. An excellent dancer, oh, and an even better shot.

That squash is as wide as I am tall, " Nikolai said beneath his breath as he smiled and waved. "And twice as handsome. " "Half as handsome," he protested. "Ah, " said Zoya, "but the squash doesn't talk.

Go home and tell them what you've seen, Nikolai thought as the demon soared through the night. Make them believe you. Tell them the demon king rules Ravka now and vengeance is coming.

It’s always been this way. There were rumors about me even before I was born. It’s why my mother never calls me Sobachka. She says it makes me sound like a mongrel.” My heart gave a little pang at that. I’d been called plenty of names growing up. “I like mongrels,” I said. “They have cute floppy ears.” “My ears are very dignified.

Alina nodded. "The real question is how you're going to outdo this gown for the royal wedding." "Don't get ahead of yourself," Zoya said. "Nikolai hasn't asked." "Can you blame him?" Genya said. "He hasn't had much luck with proposals." Alina snorted. "Maybe he should have offered me a dynasty and not a piddly little emerald.

Ravka is grateful for your service," Sturmhond said as they turned to go. "And so is the crown." He waved once. In the late afternoon light, with the sun behind him, he looked less like a privateer and more like... but that was just silly.

My king lies bleeding. I am his subject and his soldier, and I come to fight for him.

Do you read novels?" "I read when I have time." "So, no." "I read when I can't sleep." "So, regularly then.

There are rumors that your Lantsov prince has been sighted.” I drifted nearer, trying to keep my voice casual. “Where?” He glanced up, his lips curling in a slight smile. “Do you like him?” “Does it matter?” “It’s harder when you like them. You mourn them more.” “Tell me, Alina,” said the Darkling. “Has he claimed you yet?” “Claimed me? Like a peninsula?” “No blushes. No averted eyes. How you’ve changed. What about your faithful tracker? Will he sleep curled at the foot of your throne?

If he gets any more charming, men and women may start lying down in the street for the privilege of being stepped on by the new Ravkan King.

She brushed the hair back from his face, placed a kiss on his forehead. "I would stay forever if I could", she whispered.

I’m also Sturmhond, commander of the Volkvony, scourge of the True Sea.’ 'Scourge?’ 'Well, I’m vexing at the very least.

I was impressed, and also unnerved. Being around Nikolai was always like this, watching him shift and change, revealing secrets as he went. He reminded me of the wooden nesting dolls I'd played with as a child. Except instead of getting smaller, he just kept getting grander and more mysterious. Tomorrow, he'd probably tell me he'd built a pleasure palace on the moon. Tough to get to, but quite a view.

I will put a bullet in your brain before I let that happen, Nikolai." "My ruthless Zoya, I'll load the gun myself.

I believe in all kinds of things. Ghosts. Gnomes. True love.

He would not beg Zoya to stay. It was not in his nature to plead with anyone, and that was not the pact they shared. They did not look to each other for comfort. They kept each other marching. They kept each other strong. So he would not find another excuse to get her talking again. He would not tell her he was afraid to be left alone with the thing he might become, and he would not ask her to leave the lamp burning, a child's bit of magic to ward off the dark. But he was relieved when she did it anyway.

You should have said yes, she thought for the hundredth time. You should have told him you love him.

Why does your weak king send a filthy pirate to do his bidding?” sneered the Fjerdan ambassador, his words echoing across the cathedral. “Privateer,” corrected Sturmhond. “I suppose he thought my good looks would give me the advantage. Not a concern where you’re from, I take it?” “Preening, ridiculous peacock. You stink of Grisha foulness.” Sturmhond sniffed the air. “I’m amazed you can detect anything over the reek of ice and inbreeding.

Who are you, and what are you playing at?” “Nikolai Lantsov, but please don’t make me recite my titles again. It’s no fun for anybody, and the only important one is ‘prince.’” “And what about Sturmhond?” I asked. “I’m also Sturmhond, commander of the Volkvolny, scourge of the True Sea.” “Scourge?” “Well, I’m vexing at the very least.” I shook my head. “Impossible.” “Improbable.” “This is not the time to try to be entertaining.

Blessing and curse are different words for the same thing.

We put on our best clothes and die like heroes.

Not every man," I murmured. Nikolai followed my gaze. "Yes, Alina, even your stalwart champion has his price." He turned back to me, his hazel eyes thoughtful. "And I suspect I'm looking at it right now.

I think fatigue suits you, Zoya. The pallor. The shadows beneath your eyes. You look like a heroine in a novel. " "I look like a woman about to step on your foot. " "Now, now. You're managing remarkably well. And the smiling hasn't killed you yet." "Yet.

I'm not the queen Ravka needs. "And if you're the queen I want?

If there weren't an all-powerful dictator and his monstrous horde to get to, I'd be opening a bottle of champagne.

I wish your donkey well, but you should always feel free to correct me when I make mistakes.' 'Yes, Your Highness,' Isaak said uncomfortably. 'Don't worry,' said Nikolai as they turned their backs on the gardens and headed toward the Grand Palace. 'It doesn't happen often.

You are strong enough to survive the fall. They were plummeting toward the sea. Zoya felt Genya’s arms around her, Liliyana holding her tight. She felt Nikolai’s presence beside her and Juris’ sword in her hands. With a wild, gasping breath, she felt her wings unfurl.

It's only my loyalty to the king that keeps me from pulling the air from your chest and crushing your lungs like hollow gourds. " "I've seen her do it, " said Nikolai. "Makes a funny sound. " "Kind of a pop? said Tamar. " Wetter, " Nikolai said. "More of a squelch.

Collar,” Nikolai said. ”Fetters. I won't have to spend much on jewelry.” ”I have expensive taste in tiaras.” ”But only one head.” ”Thus far.

Anything worth doing always starts as a bad idea

I would choose you Zoya. As my general, as my friend, as my bride.

The less you say, the more weight your words will carry. Don’t argue. Never deign to deny. Meet insults with laughter. “You didn’t laugh at the Fjerdan captain,” I observed. “That wasn’t an insult. It was a challenge,” he said. “Know the difference.” Weakness is a guise. Wear it when they need to know you’re human, but never when you feel it. Don’t wish for bricks when you can build from stone. Use whatever or whoever is in front of you. Being a leader means someone is always watching you. Get them to follow the little orders, and they’ll follow the big ones. It’s okay to flout expectations, but never disappoint them.

I have so many good qualities," Sturmhond said, "It can be hard to choose.

And the Darkling?" "I tried to kill him." "As one does." "By killing myself." "I see.

Who are you?” Mal asked furiously. “That’s a complicated question.” “Actually, it’s pretty straightforward,” I said, springing to my feet. “But it does require telling the truth. Something you seem thoroughly incapable of.” “Oh, I can do it,” Sturmhond said, shaking water from one of his boots. “I’m just not very good at it.

I'm sorry we don't visit more often. There's a war on and, well, no one likes you." The Darkling touched a hand to his chest. "You wound me." "All in good time," said Zoya.

Console yourself knowing that, should you ever punch me while wearing it, you’ll probably take my eye out. And I’d very much like you to. Wear it, that is. Not punch me.” “Where did you get this thing?” “My mother gave it to me before she left. It’s the Lantsov emerald. She was wearing it at my birthday dinner the night we were attacked. Curiously enough, that was not the worst birthday I’ve had.” “No?” “When I was ten, my parents hired a clown.

Weakness is a guise. Wear it when they need to know you’re human, but never when you feel it. Don’t wish for bricks when you can build from stone. Use whatever or whoever is in front of you.

Your highness—” “Nikolai,” he corrected. “But I’ve also been known to answer to ‘sweetheart’ or ‘handsome.’” Mal whirled, but I silenced him with a pleading look. “You need to stop that right now, Nikolai,” I said. “Or I’ll knock those princely teeth out myself.

We're not helpless. Novels are full of ragtag bands facing impossible odds.

If fate doesn't give us the chance, we steal it.

War can make it hard to remember who we are.

What did you see?" I asked. "When-" "When I died?" I gave him a gentle shove, and he winced. "I saw Ilya Morozova on the back of a unicorn, playing a balalaika." "Very funny.

We're trained to understand the ordinary, to fear difference, even if that difference is divine.

Lay down the thorn, boy king. Haven’t you earned a bit of rest? Aren’t you tired?' He was. Saints, he was. He thought he had grown used to his scars, but he had never grasped how much of his will it would take to hide them. He had fought and sacrificed and bled. He had gone long days without rest and long nights without comfort. All for Ravka, all for an ideal he would never attain and a country that would never care.

We don't know what may happen next,' said Nikolai. 'Usually a thrilling proposition, less so when a demon may taken over my consciousness and try to rule Ravka by gnawing on my subjects.' How did the words come so easily--even as he contemplated losing his mind and his will? Because they always had. And he needed them. He needed to build a wall of words and wit and reason to keep the beast at bay, to remember who he was.

Kirigin cleared his throat. "It's of no matter to me. I just wondered if I should have that cordial she likes waiting. Is Commander Nazalensky well? " "Pretty as a picture and brimming with spite." "She is lovely, isn't she?" said Kirigin dreamily....

They left the garden and walked back through the woods. On the path, they parted as they always did—she to the Grisha, and he to the Grand Palace. He wanted to call her back. He wanted to follow her through the snow. But his country didn’t need a heartsick boy chasing after a lonely girl. It needed a king. “And a king they will have,

As your general, I should tell you that would be a terrible decision." [...] "As your king, I should tell you that no one could dissuade me. No prince and no power could make me stop wanting you. [...] I would give you a crown if I could, I would show you the world from the prow of a ship. I would choose you Zoya. As my general, as my friend, as my bride.

True,” said Nikolai. “But they know what you are too, Sankta Zoya.” “Do not call me that.” “It has a nice ring to it,” said Tamar. “Our Lady of Dragonfire?” Suggested Nadia. “Sweet scaly vengeance?” Said Genya. Zoya turned her back on all of them and strode towards the tents. “I’m going to go live in a cave.

I don’t think—” “Clearly. Why start now?” Ivan’s face flushed in anger. “You don’t—” Sturmhond leaned in close, the laughter gone from his voice, his easy demeanor replaced by something with a sword’s edge. “I don’t care who you are on land. On this ship, you’re nothing but ballast. Unless I put you over the side, in which case you’re shark bait. I like shark. Cooks up tough, but it makes for a little variety. Remember that the next time you have a mind to threaten anyone aboard this vessel.” He stepped back, his jolly manner restored. “Go on now, shark bait. Scurry back to your master.” “I won’t forget this, Sturmhond,” Ivan spat. The captain rolled his eyes. “That’s the idea.

Why hunt the sea whip if you only meant to turn it over to Alina?” “I wasn’t hunting the sea whip. I was hunting you.” “That’s why you raised a mutiny against the Darkling?” I asked. “To get at me?” “You can’t very well mutiny on your own ship.” “Call it what you like,” I said, exasperated. “Just explain yourself.” Sturmhond leaned back and rested his elbows on the rail, surveying the deck. “As I would have explained to the Darkling had he bothered to ask—which, thankfully, he didn’t—the problem with hiring a man who sells his honor is that you can always be outbid.” I gaped at him. “You betrayed the Darkling for money?” “‘Betrayed’ seems a strong word. I hardly know the fellow.

Alina, this is the alliance I want: the First and Second Armies brought together. As for the rest, I’ve always known that whatever marriage I made would be political. It would be about power, not love. But we might get lucky. In time, we might have both.” “Or the third amplifier will turn me into a power-mad dictator and you’ll have to kill me.” “Yes, that would make for an awkward honeymoon.

Jesper sniffed. “I thought it had a certain rustic elegance.” “No,” said Wylan. “He hasn’t been trained. He’s stubborn that way.” “Independent,” corrected Jesper. “Pigheaded.” “But stylish.” Kaz rapped his cane on the floor. “And now you know why I don’t visit more often.” Jesper folded his arms. “No one asked you to visit more often. And I don’t remember issuing an invitation for lunch.” “I have a job that requires both of your skill sets.” “Kaz,” Wylan said, carefully collecting some of the half-full glasses around the room. “We’d prefer not to do anything illegal.” “That’s not strictly true,” said Jesper. “Wylan would prefer it, and I want to keep Wylan happy.” He paused, unable to hide his interest. “Is it illegal?” “Highly,” said Kaz. “But the pay is excellent,” offered Nikolai. “We don’t need money,” said Wylan. “Isn’t it glorious?” Jesper sighed happily. Kaz smoothed a gloved hand over his lapel, looking at no one. “It’s for Inej.” Wylan set down the dirty glasses. “Why didn’t you say so? What do you need?

There are rumors that you died on the Fold. People have been selling off parts of you all over Ravka and West Ravka for months. You’re quite the good luck charm.” “Those are supposed to be my fingers?” “Knuckles, toes, fragments of rib.” I felt sick. I looked around, hoping to spot Mal, needing to see something familiar. “Of course,” Nikolai continued, “if half of those were really your toes, you’d have about a hundred feet. But superstition is a powerful thing.

Don’t waste your breath, lovely.” “But you don’t even know what I was going to say.” “You were about to plead your case, tell me you need my help, you can’t pay me but your heart is true, the usual thing.” I blinked. That was exactly what I’d been about to do. “But—” “Waste of breath, waste of time, waste of a fine afternoon,” he said. “I don’t like to see prisoners mistreated, but that’s as far as my interest goes.” “You—” He shook his head. “And I’m notoriously immune to tales of woe. So unless your story involves a talking dog, I don’t want to hear it. Does it?” “Does it what?” “Involve a talking dog.” “No,” I snapped. “It involves the future of a kingdom and everyone in it.” “A pity,” he said, and took me by the arm, leading me to the aft hatch. “I thought you worked for Ravka,” I said angrily. “I work for the fattest purse.” “So you’d sell your country to the Darkling for a little gold?” “No, for a lot of gold,” he said. “I assure you, I don’t come cheap.

I relied on him to find answers I couldn’t, to blaze a path when I found myself lost. David saw things no one else did. He saw through the world to the mysteries on the other side. I know that he’s gone on to solve those mysteries.” A faint smile touched Nikolai’s lips. “I can see him in some great library, already lost in his work, head bent to some new problem, making the unknown known. When I enter the laboratory, when I wake in the night with a new idea, I will miss him…” His voice broke. “I miss him now. May the Saints receive him on a brighter shore.” “May the Saints receive him,” the crowd murmured. But David hadn’t believed in Saints. He’d believed in the Small Science. He’d believed in a world ordered by facts and logic. What do you believe? Zoya didn’t know. She believed in Ravka, in her king, in the chance that she could be a part of something better than herself. But maybe she didn’t deserve that. All eyes had turned to Genya now. She was David’s wife, his friend, his compatriot. She was expected to speak. Genya stood straighter, lifted her chin. “I loved him,” she said, her body still trembling as if it had been torn apart and hastily stitched back together. “I loved him and he loved me. When I was … when no one could reach me … he saw me. He…” Genya turned her head to Zoya’s shoulder and sobbed. “I loved him and he loved me.” Was there any greater gift than that? Any more unlikely discovery in this world? “I know,” said Zoya. “He loved you more than anything.” The dragon’s eye had opened and Zoya felt that love, the enormity of what Genya had lost. It was too much to endure knowing she could do nothing to erase that pain