Chapter 7: Nikolai’s POV – Correction

Chapter 7: Nikolai’s POV – Correction

By the next morning, Nikolai had already decided.

Not consciously. Not in words he could repeat back to himself.

But in the way he moved through the house, in the direction his steps took without hesitation, in the quiet certainty that settled beneath his ribs—

He would not ignore Arlo again.

The hall was already occupied when he entered.

Arlo stood near the staircase, sleeves rolled slightly, cloth in hand, polishing the banister with that same careful precision Nikolai had come to expect. Head slightly bowed. Movements controlled. Measured.

Predictable.

Nikolai stopped a few steps away, watching.

Arlo didn’t look up immediately.

But he knew.

Nikolai saw it in the subtle shift of his shoulders, the way his grip tightened just slightly around the cloth. Awareness. Always there, just beneath the surface.

Good.

“You’re early,” Nikolai said.

Arlo glanced up, then quickly lowered his gaze again. “There was dust left from yesterday, sir.”

There wasn’t.

Nikolai knew there wasn’t. He had checked that exact rail himself the night before.

But he didn’t correct him for the lie.

Not yet.

He stepped closer instead.

“Show me.”

Arlo hesitated—just for a second—before moving his hand along the rail, wiping a section that was already spotless.

Nikolai watched the motion carefully. The slight tremor in his fingers. The way he leaned in just enough to do the job properly, even when unnecessary.

“You missed it,” Nikolai said quietly.

Arlo blinked. “I—no, I just—”

“You missed it,” he repeated.

Silence.

Arlo’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly before he nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He wiped the same spot again.

Slower this time.

More deliberate.

Nikolai felt something settle in his chest at the sight. Not satisfaction exactly. Something sharper. More controlled.

Correction.

He didn’t leave.

That was the first change.

Normally, he would have moved on—found something else to occupy his time, something more important.

But instead, he stayed.

Watching.

Arlo finished the rail and stepped back slightly, as if waiting. For dismissal. For instruction. For something.

Nikolai tilted his head. “Is that all?”

Arlo glanced toward the rest of the staircase. “I still have the lower steps to finish.”

“Then why are you standing still?”

The words landed softly.

But they worked.

Arlo immediately moved, dropping to the next step, cloth sweeping across the marble with renewed focus.

Too much focus.

Nikolai noticed that too.

He leaned against the railing, arms folding loosely as he observed.

Every movement Arlo made was careful—but now it carried something else.

Tension.

Not fear.

Not entirely.

Something more… aware.

And Nikolai didn’t look away.

Footsteps echoed faintly from the far end of the hall.

One of the other staff boys—young, loud, careless—approached with an easy grin.

“Arlo,” he called lightly, “you’re still on this? You’ll wear the rail out before the week ends.”

Arlo let out a small breath—almost a laugh—and shook his head. “Just finishing up.”

The sound hit Nikolai wrong.

That ease. That softness.

He straightened.

“You,” Nikolai said.

The boy froze mid-step. “Sir?”

“Is your work finished?”

“Almost, I just—”

“Then finish it.”

The smile disappeared instantly. “Yes, sir.”

He turned and left without another word.

Silence settled again.

He didn’t look at Arlo immediately.

But he could feel it.

That shift.

“Was there something else?” Arlo asked quietly.

Nikolai turned his head slowly.

Arlo was still kneeling on the step, cloth in hand, but his attention had shifted. Focused. Careful.

Watching him back.

Interesting.

“You seem distracted,” Nikolai said.

“I’m not, sir.”

“You are.”

Arlo hesitated. “I’ll be more careful.”

Nikolai stepped closer.

Close enough that Arlo had to tilt his head slightly to look up at him.

“Careful,” he repeated. “You keep using that word.”

Arlo swallowed.

“It’s important,” he said softly.

Nikolai studied him.

There it was again—that awareness. That deliberate restraint. Like Arlo was constantly holding something back, even when he didn’t realize it.

“Careful doesn’t mean correct,” Nikolai said.

Arlo’s brows pulled together slightly. “I don’t understand.”

“I know.”

The answer came easily.

Too easily.

He crouched slightly—not fully, just enough to close the distance between them.

Arlo went still.

Not pulling away.

Not leaning in.

Just… waiting.

Nikolai’s gaze dropped briefly—to the cloth in his hand, the faint smear of polish along his fingers, the tension in the way he held himself.

Then back up.

“You hesitate,” Nikolai said.

Arlo blinked. “I—”

“You think before you act. You second-guess. It slows you down.”

“I’m just trying not to make mistakes.”

“And yet you still do.”

The words were quiet.

Measured.

But they landed.

Nikolai saw it in the way Arlo’s expression flickered—just slightly—before settling again.

“Yes, sir.”

There it was again.

Submission.

Acceptance.

And something else beneath it.

Something Nikolai couldn’t name—but didn’t want to ignore.

He straightened.

“Finish the steps,” he said.

Arlo nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”

But Nikolai didn’t move.

He stayed exactly where he was.

Watching.

Again.

Arlo worked faster now.

Too fast.

The precision was still there, but it was strained, stretched thin by the weight of being observed.

Nikolai could see every small crack in it.

Every breath.

Every pause.

Every moment of hesitation.

And instead of looking away—

He leaned into it.

“You’re rushing,” he said.

Arlo stopped immediately.

“I thought you said I was too slow.”

“I said you hesitate.”

“That’s the same thing.”

“No,” Nikolai said calmly. “It isn’t.”

Arlo looked up at him then—really looked.

Confusion clear in his eyes.

Frustration, too.

Good.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Arlo said before he could stop himself.

The silence that followed was sharp.

Not loud.

But heavy.

Nikolai stepped closer again.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

“Then learn,” he said.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Arlo’s breathing had shifted—shallower now, quicker.

But he didn’t look away.

Didn’t drop his gaze like before.

He held it.

And something in Nikolai tightened.

“Finish your work,” Nikolai said finally.

This time, he turned.

Actually turned.

And walked away.

But he didn’t go far.

He stopped just past the doorway.

Out of sight.

Still within earshot.

Listening to the faint sound of cloth against marble. The rhythm slightly uneven now. Disrupted.

Changed.

Nikolai leaned against the wall, eyes unfocused.

That feeling was back again.

Sharp.

Unsettling.

Persistent.

Not anger.

Not quite.

Something else.

Something that refused to settle into a shape he recognized.

He exhaled slowly.

And for the first time since the stables—

He understood one thing clearly.

This wasn’t going away.

And neither was Arlo.