Amidst The Embers
Mercifully, finally, alone, Lillianna sat in front of the dying fire, a red velvet throw wrapped around her shoulders, her luminous hair holding all the light in the room. Nearby, was a pure crystal bowl filled to the brim with late summer peaches, ripe and enticing, yet still untouched. They had been sent to her chambers with 'General Kirigan's compliments'. Despite Varvara's raptures over this small attention, it had taken Lillianna a good hour to realise 'General Kirigan' was the Darkling, her mother reproving her for her ignorance, calling her a 'little fool' in front of the servants.
She stared into the dying flames, as if the embers could give her the answers she sought. Why did the Darkling wish to wed her? Especially when she was unseen by his own eyes. Nobody of his company had ever beheld her before either, much less heard of her. The Katukovs had long lived in seclusion with their serfs. It had only been Ivan Katukov who had ever left the estate. The world Lillianna knew was limited to the woods she'd wandered, and the cold rooms she'd once called her own, rooms that were now eclipsed by the opulence of her new apartments.
Her bedroom led off from a white and gold dressing room filled with full-length mirrors, their solid gold frames wrought with lover's knots and roses, the largest of them all crowned with what appeared to be a sunburst. The burnished glass gave a soft becoming reflection, making Lillianna's pale hair glow in the golden candlelight. The large wooden armoire with its richly carved decorated doors remained almost obscenely empty apart from what she had brought with her. Her shuba and matching fur hat was suspiciously missing and her dresses seemed even drabber than ever against such grandeur but Lillianna did not care. She supposed by her mother's increasing agitation on the subject that the Darkling didn't either. At this, Lillianna felt her mother was the foolish one since she was sure the Darkling had better things to worry about than her gowns, such as perhaps the small issue of the ongoing Border Wars, Varvara acting as if this was the least of their concerns.
The Darkling. At this thought, Lillianna shifted nervously, drawing the red velvet throw closer around her shoulders. For a heartbeat, the room seemed to grow colder, the shadows spreading across the floor. Then Lillianna blinked, and there was nothing, only the opulence so alien to her. Before her father's passing, they'd lived simply and plainly. But there had always been food on the table, with enough to go around and other hands to do the heavy work. They had been able to hold their heads high. But it had all been an illusion, Ivan Katukov borrowing heavily, leaving them drowning in debt. The thought made her frown, shedding unexpected light on the situation. Was that why they were here? Had Varvara bartered her daughter's body in exchange for the Darkling paying off their debts?
Yet this theory did not hold up to closer study. The Darkling was the head of the Second Army of Ravka. The Katukovs were just one facet of a faceless throng struggling to survive. Why would he bother himself with their problems? They held no rank, no wealth. They were not Grisha, not anymore, their glory long gone, leaving Lillianna even lower than otkazat'sya. He would not stand to gain anything when they had nothing to offer. So why would he want Lillianna, let alone actually marry her? Varvara didn't seem to find such a decision odd, but then again, she had helped orchestrate it. Lillianna had been left in the dark until the very last moment. She didn't even know where they were, last night being too dark to deduce anything of use when they arrived and she was too scared to ask the servants.
Lillianna bowed her head, her loose hair tumbling around her face. She was a fool like her mother said. She did not even have good childbearing hips to recommend her. If the Darkling wished to have an heir from her, he had made a poor choice. So again, why would he choose her when he was surrounded by wealthy highborn women blessed with beauty and privileged with prestige and power? Or would they not have him because he was Grisha? If so, why not then wed another Grisha of similar status? Why would he send for a girl from an impoverished estate half way across Ravka?
She stared into the flames again, trying to see past the shadows they shielded. The only thing she didn't understand more than why the Darkling would want to marry her, was Varvara's odd remark about her hair being her only inheritance. Surely the Darkling did not desire her for her hair? The very thought was enough to make Lillianna laugh out loud, the sound ringing around the room like bells. Her only hope was the Darkling would finally deign to look upon her and realise he had reached the wrong decision. Then he would send them away and she could go home, back to her cold rooms and lonely woods.
Take me out of this place I'm in
Break me out of this shale case I'm in…