Alina knew the feeling of being played for a fool well. Children can be cruel, and orphans perhaps had the least to lose from isolating one of their own. It wasn't as though their caretakers truly bothered to understand who was bullying whom.

Still, having long since outgrown her childhood, Alina was better able to deal with the aftermath. She sat in her room for a while, had another short cry, and then mustered up her resolve to figure out what she would do next.

The anger at Genya still remained, but it had ebbed to the background in favor of the bitter pessimism that now reigned. She should have expected this from the beginning. She had been torn away from the First Army by these people, from the one place that she had known beyond Keramzin. They only wanted one thing from her, and they were determined to get her to give it to them by whatever means and manipulations they deemed necessary.

Alina knew very much who pulled the strings of the nebulous they she was cursing. Naming him, though, hurt almost as much as it had to have called Genya out.

She couldn't stay in this room, in these halls, in this gilded prison which had been assigned to her rather than truly given. Alina finally shed her nightgown and slippers. She dressed practically with her warmest lined leggings, her stiff riding boots, and the blue kefta that had made her feel like she belonged. Now her lips curled as she looked in her wardrobe. Nothing that Genya had procured for her was suited for the early winter weather that had crept in over the past week. When Alina had stared out the window this morning, there had been the fluttering beginnings of a snow flurry falling gently across the lawn. It wouldn't amount to much now, but it was a clear sign that Ravkan winter was ready to fall upon Os Alta.

The black cloak would be the smartest bet. Alina pulled it off of the hanger and frowned further. She could smell traces of last night's bonfire still clinging to the heavy wool. Normally Alina loved the smokey scent. It was a reminder of the camaraderie that came with a fire, whether it was here on the lake shore or back in the camps of the First Army.

Was Nadia and Marie's friendship just as fake as Genya's? Alina had been suspicious of them from the very beginning, with how quickly they made space for her at the dining table and how loudly they included her in their conversations. But then she had learned more about them, how loud and fast-moving was their usual mode of operation regardless of who they dealt with. Marie had seemed earnest and grateful every time that Alina walked her back to her rooms. Nadia certainly would have voiced her criticism if she thought that Alina was just a walking sun lamp that needed to just get on with learning how to light.

All Alina could do was hope that it had been real. That hope wasn't enough, though. She needed more from these Grisha that had claimed to welcome her in. And she hadn't seen it yet. Maybe if Genya had apologized properly Alina wouldn't have been shouldering her cloak and grabbing a pack stuffed with spare clothes. The last item that Alina made sure to secure in the depths of her pack was a hunting knife, one of the few pieces of kit left from her First Army things.

Slipping out from her rooms, Alina wound her way through the quietest of the Little Palace halls to get to the kitchens. The cooks there were all too happy to give her the trimmings that she normally fetched for Zarya along with some bread and hard cheese. All she had to do was mention how she missed breakfast and she was given more than two meals' worth of food to add to her bags. And that she could easily stretch to two days of eating, even while traveling.

"To help fill in those cheeks," one of the cooks teased. The smile that Alina bandied back didn't meet her eyes. Still, she had gotten what she came for, and no one was the wiser for the reason. They would not find this to be any stranger than the previous requests that she had made before heading out to the stables.

Her destination remained the same this time as well. Part of it was because she had no other place that made her feel quite as comfortable as she had been, out of the prying eyes of the rest of the Grisha and their expectations for her. Mostly however Alina crossed the grounds with practicality in mind - she wasn't going to be able to cover nearly as much ground on her own two feet alone.

Her plan wasn't concrete; she didn't know exactly what she would do after slipping loose from the grip of the Little Palace, but it was important to be free of it for at least a day. Maybe two. The stable master nodded to her as she passed them. A twinge of guilt ran through Alina. They would be the one on the line when Zarya was discovered to be missing.

Alina's footsteps faltered as she entered the main stable.

"Kirigan," she breathed. She wasn't sure how she missed the Oprichniki both inside and outside of the stables. Their grey attire faded into the background of her attention; she supposed that was the point when they weren't placed prominently as a show of force. Obviously they were here to guard their charge who was decidedly not on the road like Alina had assumed he would still be.

No one knew exactly when the Black General came and went from the palace, at least no one who would share that information with Alina. She gripped the strap of her bag and inhaled sharply as Kirigan turned towards her.

"Miss Starkov," he greeted Alina easily, oblivious of her own inner turmoil, and using a much more appropriate address. Alina took in his travel-worn clothes and realized he was freshly returned from the road. Presumably he hadn't even been back to the Palace yet. That was good, she reasoned. He wouldn't have heard from Genya about Alina's discovery.

"Moi Soverennyi." Alina remembered the proper address a beat later. She didn't dip into a bow, though. Not that she had, really, before, but she hardly was going to give him the satisfaction when she knew he was the root of her current anger.

She heard herself continue on, a sort of automatic rambling of conversation to fill the air between them and not much else. "Welcome back. No one was expecting you to return this week."

Alina would have to approach him to get to Zarya; her mare was stabled in the neighboring stall to Kirigan's. Of course she was. It had been yet another subtle callout that the Sun Summoner was special. She couldn't not approach. Remaining here in the center of the aisle would make it seem like she was avoiding him. She couldn't afford that. Right now surprise was the only advantage that Alina had if she was to sneak off to collect her thoughts.

Eyeing the Oprichnik that she skirted past, Alina made herself unhook her bag from her shoulder and loop it on a peg by Zarya. The mare had been sniffing at the slats that separated her stall from Harbinger's. When she noticed Alina, she swung her heavy head out to nose at her rider. She was oblivious to Alina's turmoil; all the mare wanted was some attention and some snacks, as usual. It was comforting that Zarya remained the same regardless of everything else going on.

Kirigan had a brush in hand, but his attention had clearly deviated from Harbinger. Alina focused on Zarya. It was difficult to ignore the fact that Kirigan was just shy of staring outright at her. From the corner of her eye she noticed him wave the Oprichniki out. Alina offered Zarya one of the carrot tops from the kitchen. The mare was pleased with the offering, only knocking against Alina's head once with her nose before taking the snack.

"We had good weather for the return trip. That helped make up for time lost on the journey out," Kirigan commented. Alina remembered the rains that had come back when Kirigan had left - had that really only been a month ago? It felt like an age had passed since yesterday evening, never mind since she last saw Kirigan.

He stepped back into Harbinger's stall and returned to the brushing that Alina's arrival had unknowingly interrupted. Alina glanced at her packed bag and then her horse. She needed to saddle Zarya before either of them went anywhere.

"That's good," Alina replied. Her tone fell flat from the words she was saying. She grimaced to herself. Keeping up the ruse would be the easiest way that she would be able to slip away. Shaking herself, Alina fished again for some topic that she might have broached before - something light, meaningless, polite.

"I would have thought this would be something you would have staff to handle," Alina said, jutting her chin in the direction of Kirigan and Harbinger. He was a tall horse. Brushing him down was no small time investment, especially after the long travels that the general had been on.

"Harbinger has been biting lately. I thought it prudent to save some fingers and groom him myself," Kirigan answered. Yet again he was nothing but honest with her. Or at least he appeared to be. Alina felt her fingernails again bite into her palm as she curled one hand into a tight fist. She forced herself to relax, to let go and turn her back to him as she moved to the assortment of tack on the opposite wall.

"You're wearing the black," Kirigan said. It was an observation with just the hint of a question. So that had been part of what had held his gaze; he hadn't been around to see her wear the cloak. Alina stilled briefly as she looked over the tack and equipment on the wall of the stable.

"It's a fine cape." That much Alina could admit. Her chin dipped into the grey fox fur. Then she gathered the pieces that she needed and returned to Zarya's stall. Her eyes flicked to Kirigan's when she turned. She looked away first, trying to focus on the task at hand. The more that she got caught up in actual conversation, the more her intentions were getting jumbled.

She reminded herself of the lack of apology that Genya had given her. Alina was just a tool to the Grisha as far as they were concerned, exactly in the way that Genya saw herself. Kirigan couldn't undo his ancestor's past mistakes; he needed her. That was the reason for everything from his gifts to his lessons to the way that those dark eyes continued to study her as she gathered Zarya's tack.

Kirigan spoke again. "Didn't the stable master show you the new one?"

Alina looked up from the armful of leather that she was trying to wrangle into order. It always seemed more difficult than it should be to find the crown versus the nose band on the bridle. "The new what?" Alina asked warily. She had a nagging suspicion all of a sudden that the cloak hadn't been the only piece that Kirigan had requested to be Fabrikated before he left.

Her lips pursed together when Kirigan stepped out once more from Harbinger's stall to go into one of the other stalls that was used for storage. The longer that he took wrapping up with Harbinger would be an even greater chance that he would notice Alina decidedly not stopping at the field for practice. Assuming that she would even get to finish saddling Zarya. Alina breathed deeply, coaxing her nerves back into control.

Kirigan returned with a different set of tack. Just one day previously, Alina would have cooed and preened over the delicate motifs that had been stamped into both the leather and the larger metal rivets and fasteners. They were in the same design as her gifted cloak - the sun in all its shining glory - along with some incredibly intricate filigree patterning to stretch along the longer pieces and in the same gold plating. The leather was no longer plain brown, either.

"It's beautiful," Alina breathed. "I had no idea it was in there." The stable master definitely had not told her about the pieces, but she would have known in an instant it was intended for her if she had spied it in storage. Who else would it have belonged to? Between the Little and the Grand Palaces, no one would make the mistake of claiming what was clearly intended to be the Sun Summoner's sign unless they were stupid or reckless. Even the blanket that padded underneath the saddle matched her kefta coloration, for Saints' sake. It was the only part that wasn't black or gold, and Alina would have been a fool not to know it.

"Here," Kirigan said, reaching past Alina.

"I can saddle her myself," Alina blurted defensively. He needed to get out of her personal space and, preferably, out of the stables entirely. After a moment she realized he was only placing the tack over the edge of the stall door for her.

He lifted an eyebrow. "That's what I hoped for. You've been a quick study," he said. He took away the brown tack as though he spent plenty of mornings assisting flighty summoners. Then once again Kirigan was in Harbinger's stall, brushing away, while Alina remained locked in place.

This was what she didn't understand. Exactly in the way that Genya had been everything that Alina had expected when she had confronted her, Kirigan was everything that she didn't. He was patient with outbursts like these, far more than his station would have suggested. And every interaction rang strong with genuine intentions. Of course the black around her throat could have been intended as a message to the King or to the rest of the Grisha. But that wouldn't have come with a note.

Unless it was all a ruse. But then, why bother with any of it at all? She hadn't grown up as a Grisha. It would have been easy to be shoved into some corner and watched by Heartrenders and Oprichniki until she could light up the fold. She hadn't expected any better when she had been first stuffed into the carriage in Kribirsk. Alina couldn't get a handle on any of it.

She needed to get out of the Little Palace and clear her head. That was it. She had to stick with her original plan. Because she needed to get her thoughts in order before she decided what to do about all the feelings and reactions that rattled around in her whenever she so much as thought of Kirigan, Genya, or the others. Never mind how her head was swimming now while she worked the golden fasteners to saddle Zarya.

Kirigan finished with Harbinger before she did with her horse, perhaps in part to the sheer number of times that Alina's eyes flicked from what she was doing with her hands to glance through the slats between the stalls. She knew instantly when he had put the brush down and given Harbinger one final pat on the nose - and a miniature, perfect sugar cube procured from somewhere. That was how she was able to steel herself when he leaned against the door to Zarya's stall.

"The stable hands' fingers are safe for another day," Kirigan said.

Alina wished that she could smile at the remark. Instead she continued to adjust the seating of the bridle on Zarya to make sure that it wasn't too low or too high. "Praise the Saints," Alina replied.

There was a delicate pause between the two of them. Alina smoothed one last fastener, running her thumb along the sun's rays. "Perhaps they will be saved from further harm if I have the opportunity to take Harbinger out again tomorrow." It was intoned like a question, almost. Definitely as an invitation.

Alina stilled. The plan. She had to stick to the plan. She wasn't going to be here tomorrow because she couldn't trust any of them.

"I'm sure the Black General has more control over his schedule than the rest of us," Alina replied. She looked up and found herself caught by his dark eyes.

"I really should start taking advantage of all these perks, then, shouldn't I? It seems I'm hardly abusing my station at all."

Alina's heart wrenched in her chest. She turned away, using the opportunity to check the girth of the saddle once more. Zarya had puffed out her stomach when she had first set the straps. Just one final adjustment was needed and then Alina could tie down her bag and be moving.

"I have to get going," Alina managed to say rather than letting out any of the biting commentary she was holding back about just how much she knew about his abuse of his station.

Kirigan knocked on the wood of the stall door in rapid succession before bidding her farewell. "Until next time, Miss Starkov," he promised.

"Goodbye, General Kirigan." That "next time" wasn't going to be any time soon.