Natasha Van Doren is a shadow summoner. She bides her time and resides in darkness, feared and esteemed by Ketterdam's civilians, a ghost . She cons Kaz Brekker into joining a heist he can't refuse and with thirty million kruge on the line, the crow...
" Anything worth doing always starts as a bad idea, "
- N.L
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
NATASHA VAN DOREN ADORED THE PIANO. It had been the first instrument her mama had taught her to play. The way the ivory keys made such gentle sounds. How the world seemingly faded away. When Natasha played, it was her against the world.
In Ravka, when she wasn't training with Botkin or Baghara, she'd play. Nikolai had cleared out an old room, buying a vintage piano off a Ravkan ambassador. The keys were ivory, the lid a glossed matte black.
He had taught her the songs his mother would sing. The sea shanty's he learnt whilst playing the part of Sturmhond. He spent all his spare time by her side, teaching her songs and flirting shamelessly.
"You're doing it all wrong," Nikolai pushed her off half the stool, sitting down beside her. His palm was warm atop of hers. Natasha allowed him to guide her fingers along with the keys. She glanced up towards him, his eyes sparkling. His hair was a mess of curls a smirk on his lips.
"I like it when you stare, just not when that stare means you'll kill me," He said. He flipped the pages of Natasha's music book towards his favourite song.
"Play with me,"
"I don't play duets,"
"Well, then I'm glad I'll be the first... and last,"
Natasha rolled her eyes, adjusting her posture on the stool. She couldn't tell if the firm press of his knee against her thigh was an imagination. "You need to pretend like you're trying," Nikolai whined.
"No," she shifted her legs around, playing at an obnoxiously fast pace.
"That's cruel," You know I can't keep up,"
"We're not equals," Natasha had said. She didn't understand her anger, only that it was rolling off her body in waves - faster than she could control. "We never will be. You're a prince. I'm just a peasant who happened to get lucky," Natasha glared down at her hands in contempt.
"I could make you my queen?"
"Don't," she raised a single threatening finger, an ember of darkness curling down the length of her arm. "I plan on leaving for Ketterdam tomorrow, so don't bother,"
"You can't leave," Nikolai laughed. "The second army is finally gaining hope. You're a promising leader for them, Natasha."
