Mal,

I remember a time when life used to be easy, when you and I would run in the garden, carefree. I remember how we would sneak away in the meadows when my governess was too overbearing, lying in the grass as we looked up at the sky, talking of worlds of make believe. I remember the first time I ventured out of the house without supervision to meet you. It had been such a thrill, the two of us running around the city, where no one knew who I was. Yes, it had been the first time I had felt the cruel gazes assessing my looks, calling me an enemy for them. But we had each other, and it had been enough.

I wish it was still enough.

But unfortunately, it seems as though the fates aren't with us. I don't know what the new day will bring with it, all I know is that my family's survival is dependent on it, even yours. And I can't jeopardise that, no matter how much I want to run. And I do, I want to run away from it all.

It could just be us, you and I, running away from this nightmare, like we used to when we were children. Perhaps, we could go to Fjerda, blend in there, or Shu Han, that would be easier perhaps. If it hadn't been for the Fold, who knows, we could've even snuck away to the Wandering Isle, but I know we can't. Not anymore.

We aren't children anymore, and I'm not just a girl anymore. Tomorrow, I marry perhaps the most feared and ruthless man in all of Ravka, the person responsible for my fathers situation, one that you know better than I do. And there won't be anything I can do to stop it.

I just want to say that I will miss you Mal. You have been the best friend anyone could ask for, and I do not know who I would be without you, but it seems I'll have to find out now.

Yours,

Alina.

She placed the letter down, she had written it along with the letter she had written for her father. For some reason however, she couldn't hand over Mal his letter.

She looked up from the piece of parchment, her own eyes staring back at her from the mirror.

She could hardly recognise herself.

Her hair was done up, a single tendril falling on the side of her face, someone had done her makeup and painted her nails. She had been woken up at the crack of dawn, poked and prodded for hours til she had finally asked for privacy. There were still a lot more things to be done, but she needed to breath.

In the mirror, she could also see the white dress that was kept in the corner of the room.

She felt as though its beauty was mocking her.

She could almost taste the bile rising barely held back by the last of her self-control. The dress was beautiful, pure white with patterned lace and gold trimmings at the edges.

She hated it. To her, it did not represent anything beautiful or joyous, all it showed her was nightmare he life was to become.

She looked around the room, the morning sunlight lighting up her room made everything in it look beautiful, and she wanted to rage against the world, against nature itself for being so resplendent. The sun that had broken through the previous nights thunder, the air that smelled as if everything around her had been cleansed, yet her life was being turned upside down.

Her head snapped towards the window when she heard a click, but it was the door that opened instead, a servant walking inside.

"Your presence is required miss." She frowned and kept looking out the window. Perhaps it was childish behaviour, no, it was childish behaviour, but with everything that was happening, she didn't want to take anymore orders.

"I'm getting married today, and I have to get ready, so perhaps after the wedding."

"I'm afraid that isn't possible miss." She could hear the girls voice shaking slightly, and then the unmistakeable sound of heavy footfalls coming towards her room. Before she could ask anything however, she heard him.

"It's quite alright, you can leave now. She is the bride after all." The voice was loud and booming, but above all, it was familiar. She stood up and turned around as she saw the man, falling into a deep curtesy on instinct, wishing she was wearing more than her nightdress and a robe.

"Your highness." King Pyotr was someone she had always feared but not just because he was the king. There was just something about him that was unsettling to her at times.

She watched in fear as the King closed the door behind him and stood up once he allowed her to do so.

She knew him somewhat more than just any other subject of his, her father had been a trusted adviser of his after all.

"Miss Starkov, how are you? Looking forward to the wedding?" Her jaw clenched at his question, her mind in wonder at his insensitivity. Although, he was the king, an inability to see beyond himself was almost a requirement of his job.

"As one looks forward to a funeral your Highness." She bit her tongue the moment the words went flying out of her mouth, mortified at her own answer. Thankfully, however, he didn't seem offended.

"I'm not surprised," some of the shock must have shown on her face as he let out a laugh, "but it needs to be done you see. If there is anyone to blame, it is your father. The only way for his life to be spared was for something ironclad, some reason that would ensure he would never betray the treaty. And that was you. As much as we may not like it, we must all pay for the sins of our father."

"I know," she looked him in the eye, "sir."

"And had it not been for his abhorrent behaviour, a treaty would not be required." She looked down, she knew of some of the things her father had done, and as much as she loved him, she could not deny the cruelty in his actions. "The Grisha were ready to kill him, it was my influence that made them agreeable to the treaty. I want you to remember who it was that helped your family during your difficulties."

"I will remember it your Highness."

"Well in that case, I shall see you after the ceremony."

Alina waited till he was gone to fall onto the bed.

She wondered what exactly her father had known about the king made him meet her personally.

A few hours later all she could hear was chattering. There were five girls around her, fixing the pleats on her gown, and making adjustments to her dress as she stood in the middle without paying much mind to anything.

She did hear the noise coming from the window however and asked all the girls to leave.

She waited as the window was thrown open and Mal clambered in, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Where were you? Are you alright?" She could see that he was slightly wet and that there was some mud stuck on the side of his face. She took a spare cloth from the bed striding towards him to clean it up, not missing the look he gave her.

"I'm fine, just had to sneak around a lot, Alina-" She knew him, and he always downplayed the reality to her. She also knew that there was no getting it out of him.

"Yes, did you see him? How was he?"

"He was…alive." She nodded knowing that it was the best they could hope for. Anyone else who was convicted for committing crimes against Grisha were tortured and killed by the second army.

"Did you give him my letter?"

"I did and he read it but he….he wants you to run."

"Run? No, I can't running."

"Alina." She had never heard him pleading, but it was an odd day. She could feel tears stinging her eyes but tried not to cry.

"This marriage is the only way to keep him alive."

"But...you can't marry him."

"I don't want to, but I can't see what other option I have."

"I am giving you the option, let's run away." She froze, her heart plummeting as she heard the door open, her mother standing on the other side. She could see the change in Mal almost immediately, his back straightening as his jaw clenched, steely eyes looking at the older woman who seemed to look back at him with just as much derision.

"Leave." Her mother always had a strong presence and Alina resisted the urge to shrink back, instead standing next to Mal.

"I was just with-"

"The guests are all here, as are most of the Grisha, so unless you want to be caught, I suggest you leave."

"I'm not going anywhere, not until Alina…" Man started saying but her mother wasn't having any of it.

"She isn't interested in leaving."

"Perhaps we should ask her."

"Since when have you ever considered her wishes before your own?" Her mother asked bitingly.

"Since when you considered her before your reputation?"

"I'm not leaving." She said, her voice ringing out between the two, making them look at her. "I can't run away Mal, we aren't children anymore." She did her best to rein her tears in, but she still sounded chocked up. In her heart of hearts, she knew that if it wasn't her for her fathers life in the balance, she would've run away with Mal.

But she couldn't.

"Well then, leave." It was her mother's voice that cut through the silence that had fallen in the aftermath of her decision, and Mal turned away. "Not through the window." She contemplated giving him the letter, but didn't have it in her to bid him goodbye. She watched as he silently left the room.

"Well, looks like we'll have to fix your makeup. Sit." She walked over to the vanity, the dress weighing her down.

"Is it important to wear white while marrying a shadow summoner?" She met her mothers disapproving glare as she tutted at her, using too many things to fix her face.

"There are many people who marry for unavoidable reasons. Look at the Queen. There is nothing special or unique about you doing it, this is the card you've been dealt with, sit up tall and deal with it. There is no time for these wasteful tears." Alina clenched her jaw to avoid saying anything that would cause a fight between them. "Of course, not everyone has to deal with those dreadful beings." This time though, she couldn't hold her tongue.

"Why do you have to say that? If you and father had just kept your anger in check, none of this would be happening."

"Oh shut up, you selfish little girl, you don't understand what's at stake."

"Well then, explain it to me."

"The only thing you need to know about is this." She pulled out a small bottle, handing it to Alina who looked at it quizzically.

"A perfume?"

"That isn't a perfume. It's poison." Her eyes found her mother's identical ones, "if it gets too unbearable, drink it and kill yourself. But don't you dare try to undo everything that went into creating that treaty."

She did feel the tears fall freely now, unable to keep them in.

"You'd rather I kill myself than run away?"

"Yes, this is more important than you. Now stop crying, there's hardly an hour left for the wedding, I'll have to keep redoing this if you don't."

She sat frozen, as she let the words wash over her. There were many times when she thought her mother was cruel towards her, but none of those times compared to this.

Surely, this wasn't how weddings were supposed to be.

He could feel the material of the black kafta gliding over his shoulders as Ivan helped him into it, looking slightly apprehensive.

He could, in fact, tell that no one was happy with the wedding.

He could also admit that of all the things he had done over the years to protect his own, this was certainly the more unpleasant of them.

However, it was necessary.

He knew that Adrian Starkov was only the beginning, the worst was yet to come.

Unfortunately, this was the only way for him to stay vigilant over whatever was happening in Ravka.