Alina Starkov rushed from the General's war room. Her feet were alive with haste. Something bit at the back of her heels, encouraging her faster and faster to the cellars. The deserted halls spoke to the late hour. Only those in General Kirigan's personal confidence were awake in meeting with him.
The other Grisha, still in training, were tucked away with need for a full night's rest. The General's instruction had their training increased to a monumental amount of diligence to the enhancement of their abilities.
Alina did not think about training now. She couldn't.
All that was on her mind was Mal. His custody just released; she knew that it was the time to personally see him bound for the First Army, freed of the ugly mess that Aleksander had put him in.
The pair of men that she was pulled between required her mental oversight rather than the General's to see that the job was done correctly without accidents. Aleksander cared for Mal as she pleaded, but it was not of his gracious manners that kept Mal safe. Any threat to Alina would prove devastating to her childhood friend. Mal, on the other hand, despised the General. Call him the Devil. The disgust at the connection between Alina and the General made him angry, furious to the point of explosion.
That was why she had to do it, the one thing that was hardest of all to do: let Mal go.
The months in Little Palace in which she yearned for his company, let herself shed tears in loneliness at the heartbreak she felt being parted with the only person in her life to have never left her, they all laughed now. For all that time, she relished the life she had. Grisha, Second Army, Sun Summoner. It was her true identify finally given light. She became Alina Starkov in his absence.
It was why that the man she cared for as an orphan did not suit the man she belonged to.
Alina was no longer the Alina Mal knew.
The cool air of the cellar greeted her flushed features with a welcome splash. Her breath escaped in a cloud of dragon's smoke as she adapted to the change.
Cellars were dank, cool places that grew mold of every color. A palace cellar was different.
It was well lit. Clean. Stocked with all the foods to feed the Grisha within it's walls and a few dozen more guests. The scent was not of mildew, but of earth. She smelled the Earthy aroma of onions and potatoes stacked in their crates. Glass jars lined shelves. Every fruit she knew of was preserved in jams and labeled on that wall. The darker hues caught her eye. Blackberry preserves were her favorite on breakfast toasts and pastries.
Deeper into the rooms was storage. Log books of the palace and it's requirements were stacked in boxes. Old parchment rolls. Records. Records upon record books of the Grisha and their family trees were there, too.
She saw the wine barrels. Mal was kept close to those.
The Palace was not built with official dungeons, as it was meant to be a home for the Grisha, not a place for suspects to be held.
It was eerie quiet below the palace floor. Nothing moved. The light taps of mouse feet as they ran across the stone floor was all she heard to fill the void of silence.
Malyen was chained to a thick pipe in a nearby room. His back against a wall with his eyes closed. The soft snores of his mouth as he slept.
She sighed. Who knew how long it would be before she saw him again?
Two guards under the General's order were there. They were half asleep themselves at the late hour watch of their only prisoner. Their faces were disappointed when she showed the orders of the King. More work than they expected when they agreed.
The two shuffled off to wake the First Army liaison at the castle. The liaison was in charge of the transport between Second and First Army. She, of course, negotiated for the First Army in court while General Kirigan spoke for the Second.
Mal and Alina were finally alone. It was the first time in so long that she felt the air change into one she tasted hundreds of times before. Comforting and warm, but stagnant from all the words left unsaid.
She knelt beside him. Her fingers touched the soft swell of his cheek. It was warm.
His face flinched and moved. The lifting hold of sleep came at the change in the room. All too soon, he'd awake and fill the void with his questions.
If only he would understand. It would make the parting less painful.
A thin line of white came first. His eyelashes appeared very heavy to lift up all the way. It took many moments of silent stares before Mal fully opened his eyes and saw what he saw.
"Alina," he spoke softly. Then his eyes jumped around the room. "Where are the guards?"
"I've sent them away for a bit." She lowered herself to the ground. "They'll be back soon."
Mal moved suddenly. His chain clattered against the metal pipe like the chiming of a bell. Both winced at the sound.
He used his right hand to find her hand. "Are you alright? He didn't hurt you, did he? The baby."
She shook her head and whispered softly, "No. No." Her eyes went down to their joined hands. "He's not laid a hand on me."
Mal read his friend with great precision. "You told him it was his."
"I couldn't lie to him. He's – he doesn't trust me easily and hiding it was enough to unravel him. It's cruel to withhold something like that. It's his baby too."
"What are you going to do?"
Her forehead wrinkled. "Do?"
"Yeah. How are you going to get the hell away from here?" Alarm was in his features when she shook her head with a forlorn look. "You are going to leave, aren't you?"
He knew her answer was no.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "But I belong here with him."
"He'll turn you into a monster, Alina. You'll be just like him."
"I am," she said. "I am just like him."
No matter the denial in her friend, it was the truth.
"I'll never die. I'll never compare to a mortal again," Alina admitted with sadness. It was hard to explain to a friend that they had to part now before it broke her. "My powers grow stronger. Soon, I'll be strong enough to end the Fold and the whole world will want to kill me for it. And everyone I love with be in danger."
"You'll never die?" He questioned in shock.
She shook her head. "I'll be forced to watch the entire world die, time and time again."
"But Alina -."
"You can't ask me to watch you die, Mal. You can't." The tone was so strong it nearly blew back the hairs from his face.
He nodded gently. "Al-alright."
Would this be their last meeting forever? Was this her only chance to say goodbye?
Alina looked down at their joined hands. They were like the little child's hands she held all those years in that meadow. He, the reason she suppressed her Grisha ability. He, the reason why she fled from the world she belonged to. He, the one anchor on her heart that sank her further from the skies of love.
She kissed his hand gently. A hollow tear dribbled down the length of her cheek to their fingers.
"Oh Alina." Mal wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.
Tears continued to fall. "I've never had to do anything without you, Mal."
"Then come with me."
"I can't." Her tears smeared across her cheeks.
"Because of the Fold?"
She breathed. "No," she answered softly.
Mal's body stiffened. His touch less kind as it cradled her woes. "Because of your Devil, then."
She groaned as she raised from his embrace. "If he is the devil, then I am a demon."
"He is the Devil and you are a Saint," Mal corrected stiffly. His eyes bled with hurt and desperation.
He thought he was losing her. Didn't he know? She was already gone. Gone from his grasp.
"I am entranced by him. Bewitched and drawn. Complete by his darkness. For the world cannot thrive in light without shadow." Alina watched the resistance contort her friend's face. She looked down. Their hands. She gave him a comforting squeeze. "You'll always be in my heart, Mal. Special and priceless. No one could dethrone you…but - ."
"But?"
Alina paused. Her heart knew there was no way to make him understand. Aleksander was more than just one man, one Grisha. He was made for her as she was for him. Two parts to the same whole. The utter completion of a person into every potential possible. "Remember the stories we were told as children in Keramzin? The ancient lores of the old world."
Mal flexed his brow in confusion but nodded.
"General Kirigan and I are two Zoris. You know the story. I, the morning star so bright and warm. He, the evening one with cool and darkness. One cannot be without the other in those stories. There is not balance. It is world's end. The devastation one of us can cause without the opposite. The morning Zori will scorch the Earth with fire and draught. Evening Zori allows decay and chill to torture the surface. Don't you see? We are meant to be together, in harmony."
"Harmony doesn't mean love," Mal argued. "An alliance. Form an alliance. Be friends."
She shook her head. Lips stretched thin across her face.
"Do you think it possible, with the feelings we have for one another, to dissipate that to friendship? The only way it will end is in a war."
"So, you're forced to be with him forever."
"Not forced. Never forced." Her eyes summoned an image of what it might look like to leave Aleksander. Besides the heartbreak it would cause both of them, their child left in the middle of the pair. Who would rule? What would be done for that fate to end happily? "I'd not stay if I was unhappy."
Mal could not believe his ears. He shook them out to rid himself of the garbage she shoved inside them.
"These feelings will not last. Sooner or later, you'll regret this choice. You'll regret on whose side you chose."
Her brows knit upward in the middle. Her eyes shimmered with the rise of tears once more.
"Don't make an enemy of him, Mal. It will be you who comes to regret this."
An echoing sound of voices pierced through the cellar. The First Army liaison grumbled in displeasure at being woken in the late night. Her heels slapped against the stone floor with urgency. The faster Mal was dispensed to his unit, the faster she returned to her own quarters.
Alina rose. Her silence a noted thing between them.
It was hard to lose someone. A friend like Mal was indescribable in importance to her. Yet, she did not feel sorrow at the choice she made.
Aleksander was the one she'd choose, over and over again.
She returned to her bed chamber what felt like hours later. It was an ordeal to relinquish custody of a prisoner. Interactions with First and Second Army were always long drawn-out affairs. Paper after paper being signed, noted, dated. Proper transport was arranged. Only First Army was permitted access to Mal. Now that he was back into their ranks, he was protected like the Sun Summoner herself.
The carriage was required from First Army care and lodging to prevent accidents on the journey home. Comrades of their ranks had to drive the carriage to the unit. Second Army was forbade from taking part in any action of the transport.
The parting scent of Mal from that stiff hug clung to her like a foul memory.
She turned the large metal handles of the bathtub. The surge of steaming water filled the silence of the room. It helped drowned the thoughts of Malyen and his stupidity.
She'd been in the process of readying to slip into the waters of the bath when sensations clawed over her flesh. The presence of someone. Her silk dressing gown was promptly placed against her bare body as she emerged from the bathroom into her sleeping quarters.
The dark was dense. Denser than it usually was.
"You returned," the darkness said.
A ball of light shot from her palm and broke through the thin veil of shadow. Aleksander emerged from his cloak of pure darkness.
"From the cellars?"
"From your tracker," his dark, hollow voice pronounced.
Alina went rigid. "Of course I have. Mal is of First Army and I am of the Second."
"That's your reasoning. Different assignments."
"It is the truth," she said firmly.
Aleksander stepped forward, closer. His presence a growing darkness around them. "The truth can be many things at once. You may be in different armies, but you're still bound together, in a pathetic doomed love with one another."
She narrowed her eyes. "How many times must I say I'm not in love with Mal?"
"It was enough to run off with the man. Still, everyday, I wonder if I'll awake to the same nightmare of your disappearance. Or worse, your death, out there somewhere. Far away from my aid." His voice turned bitter as he said a name he rarely ever spoke. "All for Malyen."
Inadvertently, she stepped toward him. Her accusing finger raised and pressed against his chest.
"I left once. Once." She reiterated. It pained her to relive it each day. The memory of her fleeing Aleksander's protection like a child. The idiocy alone was enough to make her keel over in embarrassment, but the fact at how deep it cut him only burned that much more. "And I'm not going to do it again."
His body pressed against the hold of that single finger. "How can I trust that? You've broken my trust before."
His teeth were gritted together, words spoken behind a cage of teeth. It was much of how he was: caged and kept away from everyone else. The world, people, his own feelings, on the outside of his interior.
It only showed just how frightened the man was on the inside. He was frightened to be left alone. The ease of never being close to someone made their death all the easier to bear.
"I love you, Alek. Every single day I was gone, I mourned the loss of your attention and support. I missed your smile, no matter how rare it was." Her voice grew light. "Your kiss. I missed the way it fluttered against my flesh as you held me. And your hands." Her eyes dropped down to them. Each of her arms extended out, palms open, in reach of connection.
There was a moment of pure silence as they stared down at her offer, neither unable to mutter a word until it was joined.
Soon, he raised his hands to hers. She took them both with relief. Her fingers laced between the lengthy, soothe fingers of his hand until there was no space left between their palms, their sources of their powers.
Just his touch, amplified her emotions. She felt a surge of light at the back of her throat. A hidden sun emerged from her depths.
He restrained his need to melt into her.
"You left me," he grumbled.
The muscles of his neck tensed and tightened at the strength to keep himself composed.
Even the intensity of the moment brought forth a sobering question: why did he fear being left? Baghra was his mother, and she never left. They were still together. Even now, she lived within Little Palace under his protection. She was the only one who lived as long as he. She never left.
"And you found me," she said. "Remember what you said the night of the Winter Fete?"
He refused to relinquish his anger. Not yet.
"I remember what you said." He couldn't help himself.
She shook her head. "Before then," she asked. "Do you remember? They are words I'll never forget."
"Enlighten me."
"You said the benefit of being my counterpart was knowing when I need you. Even if I do not know it myself." Alina recited the words from memory. It was one of many of her favorites of that night. "I did know it, then. I knew I needed you when I ran, but I hadn't the strength to let myself go. I couldn't admit that I was no longer the weak Alina I was before. You found me and reminded me of all that I am."
It made her smile to think about it.
"And." She chuckled as she gazed at their clasped hands. "How silly it was to run away from the only person who would always be on my side."
Aleksander listened. His eyes filled with intensity, as they always were. Their roaming across her flesh prickled the skin below. She felt it travel upward from her neck to her cheek, across to her nose and eyes. Their pull encouraged her to meet his gaze.
Her warmth brown eyes collided with his blackness and drowned into their depths. Tingles coursed down the back of her arms. A climbing chill rose up her legs. It ascended her ankles, the muscles of her calves, and wrapped around her knees.
She glanced downward. Half of herself was consumed by dark shadow. It claimed her lower half for its meal with an appetite for the rest.
Aleksander commanded it higher. It cinched across her waist. Only the soft swell of her stomach was untouched by his blackness. A large circle at the bottom of her torso.
Her womb.
"And?" His throat swallowed.
She nodded. "There has never been another in my eyes."
There was a trembling exhale released from his lips as the flat of his palm pressed against her. The whole of her womb was under his stretched hand.
Inside, flutters erupted. Whatever it was awakened to life at it's father's touch.
Alina happily gasped. "Oh. Saints. Oh, it knows."
"Me?" He asked.
She nodded unable to break her grin. Their child. It swam inside the waters of life she created and kicked strong at the touch of it's other creator in excitement.
"I don't know how to explain it," her lips muttered. "I can feel what it feels. I just know. Our malysh. It already adores you so."
The shadows dropped to the floor. Her body given control; Aleksander's hand still pressed against the flesh of her womb. He wrapped his other arm around her to pull her close. His lips pressed tenderly against her forehead. The hot breath gave life back to her chilled body.
"I-I am not ready to be a father," he quietly admitted. It was not louder than a whisper through distance. The sound died the moment she heard it, not to be uttered again. "There is too much work to be done before a child can be safe here. We're at war. With each other or the other countries. We cannot afford another liability."
"That's why we must move fast," Alina stated.
He breathed. "Even we are not that fast."
Her hand spread overtop of his, overtop their child. "Little Palace may not be a fortress, but it is the safest place for all Grisha. I know the people of this place. You do, too. You've trained them to be soldiers. Trust in them to protect our offspring as you trust them to protect me."
"I do not take chances, Li. Not with you. Not with this -." His eyes dropped to her stomach. "I never pictured this moment to happen like this. I needed time. Much more time before I found you."
"I know." Her hand traveled up his arm. Fingertips dragged the length of his black kefta up through the pulled taut tendons of his neck to his cold cheek. "I know you don't like to be caught unaware -."
"I despise it," he correctly sternly.
"I know I should have told you myself…"
"Long before."
She grumbled and withdrew from his clutch. "It's not like I wanted this to happen. It just did."
One time. The first time, and she landed pregnant. No one told her it stuck that well in there.
Soldiers in First Army tumbled all the time, never to have children come of it. She didn't understand. Why her? Why, the only time she let herself be in that position that it would change her life forever? Was it some twisted fate for a saint to be tainted so soon?
Perhaps a lesson in vanity. Her newfound power as a walking saint tarnished with an irresponsible choice.
"You ran a bath," he reminded her.
She'd fallen quiet in thought. In shame. Her eyes blinked back the building tears.
"Right."
"Come, Alina. While it's still warm." He stretched out his hand.
"You don't have to do that," she mumbled softly. She did not want him to think she was weak. "I'm sure you have things that require you."
"I do," he said. "The mother of my unborn child currently requires tending."
Two hands gripped her hips. He gently guided her closer to the doorway of light where a giant porcelain soaking tub waited. Steam still visible, just barely, above the water. The silk dressing the only barrier now from filling up with heat.
Aleksander's smooth hands slipped over her collar bones and moved the silk off her shoulders. The gown fell the rest of the way. Its inaudible thump against the floor.
She found thoughts once more. Her hand touched the cold side of the tub. A shiver traveled down her spine. It awoke her from whatever dark haze she'd entered.
As she slipped into the waters and situated herself comfortably below the surface – it required a bend of her knee to be all the way under – Aleksander leaned against the sink. His two hands gripped the edge behind him. His eyes, wide and proud, appraised the sight before him. She tried to smirk the satisfaction from his face, but it refused to leave.
The difference in his face, when they were alone, was staggering. She hardly recognized the General as the man she loved. Their tone and the way they thought very carefully before they spoke, yes, yet the face of her man was much more pleased and vibrant.
Life danced back into his pupils. Warmth, a healthy color, came to his cheeks.
Alina laid there and admired the view from the tub. It offered a long silhouette to crawl her eyes up.
Her eyes enjoyed the way his danced when they met. "You're so beautiful. You're like an angel."
An untamed scoff jumped from the back of his throat.
"Most say I resemble a demon." His tone evened and calmed.
It was a great effort the man went through to be impossible to analyze. Too bad it was a waste.
She shook her head. "No. I think you are angel."
"Well, you'd be the only one that thinks so."
Suddenly, he started to unbutton his kefta. The line of silver fastenings undone in record time. Fully removed and folded, he tossed it atop the bed in the other room.
Then he took the time to roll up each sleeve to his elbows.
He kneeled. Both arms hung lazily over the sides of the free standing tub. His fingertips caressed the top of the water. Something in the way his lips were shiny and pink. She felt drawn over to him.
Water whooshed around her as she brought her face close to his. Their faces happily perched on each side of the tub rim.
"You are beautiful, you know."
There was little blood left to go to her cheeks seeing as they were already red from the heat of the water. It allowed her some quiet dignity in being melted by a single sentence.
"You're just saying that because I'm the Sun Summoner."
"No." He leaned forward. His lips brushed against hers in a quick peck. "I'm not."
She kissed him back. "Then you wouldn't mind our little baby malysh looking just like this. Would you?"
It was playfully said. She smiled when she said it and laughed a bit, too.
Aleksander did not laugh. "I hope they do."
Alina sobered. "I hope they don't."
One handheld her cheek with question in his expression. The question, as if it wasn't obvious. It looked at him every day, a blaring reminder that she was different. She was foreign. She did not belong.
"You know what the world is like, Alek. To be different is a target."
"I'd like to see them try." He said it like an oath. An unbreakable vow to never let their child be victimized because of who they were.
The feeling was not unknown to her. A fierce protection overtook her heart every time the image popped to the forefront with a jagged ax through her peace. What if?
"I love you, Alina."
The visions cleared from sight. She blinked. "What?"
"I love you," he said again. Twice.
Her hands clasped in front of her heart. "I love you, too."
A hot steamy bathtub kiss was divine. The way the heat of their breath, the taste of the rising scented waters as it entangled with their tongues.
It was a night of the hardest separation in her life. Mal was gone. For good.
But, the most wonderful night with Aleksander rose from its ashes. They reunited as the people they were, in love, in trust, and devoid of all the past resentments that always loved to creep up in their mouths.
He spent the night grooming her with soaps and bubbles. His laughs – finally! – filled her ears as she recited some happy times from memory. Even he added some stories from when he was a boy. They filled her with joy to know something far more intimate.
After the bath, she was slathered in creamy lotion and massaged head to toe.
"I'm fine, Alek. Honestly. You don't have to pamper me. I'm not a queen."
"Hand me your foot," he growled playfully. She tossed the limb in his direction. White fluffy lotion was laid atop her skin. "Now tell me about the draft. First Army."
The fingers set to work at the bottom of her foot. Powerful thumbs pushed up. They stretched the muscles of her feet to their limit before he finally pushed them back down again. All the time his eyes never left hers. The movement of her mouth never left his full attention. The motions of the massage so engrained in his mind, he hadn't needed to look. Muscle memory.
It helped them bond to talk about their military service. Although he tried to paint a picture that he was once a nervous, unskilled infantry too, Alina struggled to believe he was. He offered understanding and advice rather than the common comrade grumble of displeasure at the horrid conditions and general intensity of training.
The door to his past opened. He spoke so close to the creation of the Fold. His days as a General, the way people adored him. It was no stretch of the imagination that this meant women, too. He was an attractive, powerful, and charming man.
That door promptly closed when she asked. He swore that his dedication was to his career. Not the notches on his bedpost, although he did admit there were a few.
"My ego led me to believe that commitment was for men past their prime." They were cuddled together beneath her bedspread. Both his hands wrapped around her stomach. Every once in a while, he'd cradled her belly ever so gently before releasing it. "Arrogance was the style, then, in the ranks."
"Mmm. And you just hate to let a style die."
He playfully snarled against the softness of her neck and pulled himself tight against her. His bare chest rested against her back. Chests moved in motion with the same breath. Through their touch, their pulses aligned to a steady, firm beat.
Sweat of his body gave a touch of cedar to the air. It battled the perfumy flowers placed in every corner of the chamber.
"Always the one to humble me, lapushka."
It was a sweet soft whisper against her ear. They laid in quiet content. Eyes grown heavy with the many hours of waking they'd done. It was early morning already, and both had expectations for the day.
Alina tried to outlast Aleksander, but every time she thought he was asleep, he'd kiss her shoulder or her neck or move his hands across her body.
Soon she discovered the struggle of having another in her bed; the heat. It boiled her alive beneath the blankets and his body. She had to toss the blankets off herself to keep the sweat from pooling in every crevice, though she was certain it was already there.
The frigid General became a sun at night. Barely clothed he radiated enough heat to rival a fallen star.
Still, she survived the night. Sometime in early dawn glow, she was awakened by the loving murmurs of Aleksander. He held his kefta folded over his arm. His black button of shirt was half done up. Only the defined muscles of his upper chest remained in light.
The words that came out of his mouth never made sense. They were blurry in the sense that she failed to understand what it meant. He kissed her forehead gently. "Go to sleep" was all she remembered. An instruction she followed through with almost instantly.
Well into the day was when she reemerged back to the conscious world. Her back ached as she rose from bed.
The servants were there the moment she arose. They readied her for the day.
"What for?" She asked. "What am I to do?"
It was no use. White keftas were never given information. They were given an order.
They ushered her through breakfast – a giant fish the noted change amongst her fruits and pastries – off to being dressed in a kefta again.
Their hands worked tirelessly to tame the mess of lopsided curls and tangles in her hair. Aleksander had slept on it all night. His hot breath curled what the surface of the bath water did not. It took many attempts – her wincing the entire time – for her strands to be silky smooth and styled at the base of her head in a neat bun. Sparkling star pins were placed all around it. She appraised it in the mirror with an approving grin.
Alina was in a wonderful mood. Despite the restless slumber she had with a black bear beside her, something inside her was calmed. Anxiety, she thought, over the tensions with Aleksander were cured. They not longer tapped at her heart to an unsafe rhythm.
Her pregnancy was no longer an elephant in the room. The lineage of the unborn child proved time and time again by her utter refusal to acknowledge Mal as the slightest possibility proved a relief on her soul.
She took a long appraisal on herself in the mirror. The side ways angle highlighted the ever-slight-but-still-there bulge at the bottom of her abdomen. She poked it with her fingers. It was not hard, yet, but she felt the stiff lump below the sliver of softness there was. Soon enough it would not hide from sight as her indulgences for fine cheeses and creams.
"It is all the rich food," a servant assured her with a smile. "Nothing to worry about."
The two servants then dug deep into a wardrobe. An off-white, boned corset was produced.
"This will solve it," they said.
Alina put up her two hands. "Oh, no no. I'm fine."
"Just a little tummy cinch." Their heads bobbed in approval. It was a perfectly appropriate response for a lady of court or nobility, but her?
"I'll just wear the kefta for now," she assured them, "and lay off the bread."
It felt ridiculous to assure them the nonexistent fluff beneath her shirt was enough to justify a contraption. When it was her time of the month, a bloat looked similar. She puffed up like a dead animal.
Her eyes gave a last glance back at her profile.
It was not too long until a familiar face arrived within her room. Genya. The fire red hair, a dead give away to the corner of her eye. She smiled in pleasure. Finally, someone to talk to who wasn't out to make her out of breath.
"You look lovely this morning," the Tailor greeted. "Back in black, I see."
"Yes." Alina appraised the dark fabric. Her hands smoothed the wrinkles down the front. After so many tosses out the window, it was bound to be creased. "I find it slimming."
Genya snorted. "The last thing you need is slimming. You're still in recovery."
So, it was clear. Genya did not know the news.
"You've got a day of training ahead of you," Genya revealed, easily changing the subject.
Alina perked in her seat. "Really? I can finally go back?"
"There is a bit of change," the Tailor admitted. Her face puckered to one side. "You'll be doing it in the library."
Alina blinked.
"I don't understand. Won't it get messy in there if I train? The pages, the books. The shelves?"
Genya shook her head. "Mental training. You're going to train your mind. It is a great honor. Not all Grisha are gifted with studies."
Studies? Like school.
That was not something Alina liked to hear. "But I need to train my powers." She rose from her chair. "I cannot destroy the Fold with a book!"
"Education will do a load of good for your powers. Better than physical training. Books taught me tricks no other Tailor could teach me. Abilities so rare rely on books for exposure to the true limit of their powers," Genya said with an encouraging pat on the back. "Besides, if you are to be the savior of Ravka, shouldn't you know all you can about the country?"
"Ravka?" The Shadow Fold. Aleksander's past. It was possible to be found in books. "I'll be able to read about Ravkan history?"
"Of course. That is the point. The history of Grisha and Ravka. What we are up against and the lores behind the Sun Summoner. Who knows? You might discover something about yourself in those books."
The idea was palatable. More so, if she was able to locate the right books.
Her focus of study was the creation of the Fold. She needed to know what it was like centuries ago. Aleksander said it was a mistake. Something went wrong. But what was he trying to do in the first place? What went so wrong that it ruined the inside of an entire country with a gateway to hell?
The volcra? Where did they come from? Was there a way to kill them humanely or make them useful in Ravka at all?
Alina's heart pumped wildly as she walked to the library. All the ideas spun in her head. What she wanted to find first was the Holy Grail: the creation of the Shadow Fold. It was bound to be documented. Little Palace's library was astounding, bursting full of knowledge not released to the general public. Plus, it was bound to hold Grisha secrets, too. The truth had to be buried somewhere inside.
The question of Aleksander's past was always a burning thought in her mind.
He hated reminiscing on it. There were small spots she was given, happy memories in very isolated places that she was permitted a look. But as a whole, she knew very little.
An awful thought popped into mind about being impregnated by a man she barely knew, but it was forcefully pushed aside in favor of her excitement.
Alina scoured through the library shelves. Immediately she discovered how overwhelming it would be to search through all those novels to find one moment in time that needed revealing. She needed an entire day just to learn the layout of the room.
Aisles upon aisles of over-stacked bookshelves high above her head went on for miles, winding through the room as a maze to be lost inside of. More than once, she panicked. She'd forgotten to memorize her route back to the door. It became a frightening image to be lost in the dusty, shadowy forgotten library.
Midday peaked and passed as she wandered through the bookshelves. Waking late left her sense of time out of sorts. When she finally emerged with a single book on the beginning of Grisha. Recorded, that is.
It was about Sankt Ilya in Chains. He was the first Grisha, seemingly the most powerful. If she had to understand her powers, it was best to start at the very beginning.
She flipped through the pages. Some intricate illustrations were on the pages, in full color like tiny works of art. Her eyes absorbed each image. So much detail and designed. It must have taken forever to draw on a small book page.
She scoured the pages for more and happened to stumble upon something that stopped her in her tracks.
A white stag with an immense rack atop its head. Twice as large as any usual deer, and sheer white.
It was the one from her dream! She wrote Mal about it ages ago, but there it was. Proof that it was real.
Amplifiers. Like Alek? Baghra said that he amplified her power in front of the court.
"Amplifiers usually consist of bones, scales or teeth as the animals must be killed first in order to obtain their ability to increase power. This is also only available to the individual who killed them."
That's why the stag's body was burned to ash like Mal said. Not a piece of it was available to be used as an amplifier.
"Miss Starkov," echoed through the corridor.
The book was tucked away within the pocket of her kefta. Safe and out of sight.
"Ivan," she greeted, although uncertain how. Whether to be stiff in her typical way or softer seeing as he'd been less disagreeable in recent times.
"You missed your midday meal," he said. "The General was concerned."
"I was in the library reading and just lost track of time."
He glanced at the library door. "Yes, well, that library does play tricks on the mind. No windows. No light. Can't tell whether it is day or night."
She felt rather distrustful of his newfound loquacious behavior. So much so that it made her sweat profusely to tread the indecisive waters of confusion: whether to answer honestly in pleasant conversation or be on the lookout for pitfalls he might use for a backhanded compliment or two.
"The General has some work to finish in his chambers," Ivan continued, "He's had your dinners brought there."
So much of Aleksander in one day was a nice surprise.
"Can I make a stop at my chambers first?" She asked. The book in her pocket might have escaped Ivan's notice, but it would not slip Aleksander's. "I'd like to freshen up."
"Of course, Miss Starkov."
The Heartrender obliged her wishes and took an alternate route to the General's war room that passed by her own chambers. She dipped inside her rooms, ensured she was truly alone, and tucked the book beneath her pillow.
She ran the water of the faucet and splashed a bit against her flushed face. Eyelashes full of book dust was not an attractive look. Patted dry and a bit of lotion perked her flesh with pleasant color and evenness.
Alina exited her bed chambers much more excitement to see him. The corners of her mouth teased and pulled upward into a girlish smile even step they took closer.
"How is he today?" She felt bold enough to ask the only constant companion Aleksander had. If anyone were to know the General best, it would be Ivan.
"You'll see soon enough."
It was curious. Unlike the new Ivan, but too kind to be the old one. She flexed her brow curiously as she approached the General's door.
Ivan allowed her to enter, alone.
The door peeked a steady beam of light into a very dark room. Only a single candlelight flickered deep within its darkness. Shadows, thick and wild, at every edge.
By the light of a single, flickering candle sat her Aleksander, head in his hand as he read over papers. The slick oil of his hair was disrupted and fallen every which way. A taut tension stretched against his jawline.
His attention only caught when she closed the door. A glaze overtook his eyes. The darkness faded back and allowed the other light of the room to shower through. Candles scattered across the room found strength in the flee of his tensions.
"Alina," he said with a soft smile.
"Am I interrupting?" She asked softly.
She knew the look of him. It was stressed. An imposition would only make him moodier.
A desk overgrown with work stood before him like a screaming child to be dealt with, and he simply ignored it. His hands wrapped around her.
"I expected you earlier. Where did you eat your lunch?"
"Oh I-I didn't."
A sour look was all she earned. It caused a great rift in his personality to split off when she did not eat.
The table of his chambers was set by the Palace servants as a gourmet assortment of foods. Some she recognized from First Army, and the rations they had to eat, and others were far fresher, and lively looking. Aleksander pulled out her chair. His fingers lingered on her shoulder, touching the dark fabric, before he retreated to his own seat.
"Did you at least eat breakfast?" He asked.
"Yes, I ate my strange breakfast."
"Strange?"
She sipped from a steaming teacup. "I find a whole fish a bit odd at breakfast."
"Fish is said to be beneficial during a pregnancy."
"And what part said it had to be touching my Blini?"
They shared a gentle smile. A meal together, the most routine of things for couples, this was their first together. It was strange to do something typical with him. Most of their moments were intimate, not usual.
"It makes up for your skipping a meal," he said as he served himself. "What is it that you were doing all afternoon?"
Alina followed suit. Her plate was loaded with the steaming fresh food. It eased the low grumbles of her stomach that she'd ignored all afternoon. Strange how ravenous she was for eating earlier in the day.
There were times that she went an entire day without feeling hungry at all.
The food was delicious. It warmed up her body from the inside. She was pleased that she didn't have to take what the servants said to heart and avoid the rich foods. They were her favorite.
Alina swallowed down a few bites before she answered. "The library."
It was the best response he'd get when she was diving into the roast duck. Her mouth swam with juices and fats of the exquisite meat. She felt her eyes cross as she chewed.
Saints, it was to die for.
"All afternoon?" His brows were high. "I didn't imagine you'd be difficult to rip away from studies. What exactly did you find so diverting?"
"Well, the layout."
"Layout?" He repeated.
She nodded. "I need a map if I'm not going to get lost every day. That place is so confusing. They need signs."
Aleksander grinned with amusement. "Signs? In a library."
"It is a maze in there, Alek! I got so turned around I thought about screaming for help. I don't know how you expect anyone to find what they're searching for."
"Your studies should have been put out on the tables, Alina. Did you not talk to the librarian?"
She dropped her fork. "There was a librarian?!"
The rest of the meal passed with pleasant conversation. She adored the way Aleksander's face looked half illuminated by candlelight. His sharp features, even sharper. The angelic beauty of his skin so poignant it came to her mind to ask if he truly was descended from the heavens above.
His foul mood which she interrupted was seemingly gone, until a messenger arrived. They approached him with caution and dipped their head low before the letter was handed over.
Shadow fell across Aleksander's face once more, then transformed him in General Kirigan, the man with the thousands of worries. The letter was sliced open, the paper pulled from its depths. Black script smaller than a pin head patterned the entire sheet.
Alina saw the change in his body. It turned him back to the darkness of his woes.
The General trekked up to his war table. A large spread of the country and borders consumed the entire center of the room. Its round edge a making of the world with pieces scattered all about. Foot soldiers, horses, ships and camps.
He stared down at the battlefield ahead of him like the answer to life was right there before him, somewhere, torturing him in its secrecy.
Alina touched his shoulder gently. "What is it?"
There was a long pause. Silence between them as a conversation rather than the background.
"Numbers," he said hollowly, "grow every day, on the other side of the Fold. Resistance against us. They assemble behind a General Zlatan to lead their own nation. I'm afraid the time to destroy the Shadow Fold is dwindling." He looked to her. "You're going to need help."