The carriage ride started early in the morning. Only a hazy light of a pending dawn colored the murky sky. Thick grunts of the horses filled the air as they rode. The sound of their many hooves as they dug into the ground toward the large dark split of the map.
Their bodies jolted against the back of their seats as they cut through the rough terrain rarely traveled so close to the Fold.
Aleksander kept his eyes fixed outside the carriage windows. Ivan, at Alina's side, remained equally silent and still. Neither man said a thing to split the silence.
Alina Starkov fought the daze of sleep. A late-night start to a journey was the least favorable thing she pictured on a cross country voyage. It was to be her first time to cross the great divide of Ravka and she was barely able to remain conscious.
The growing darkness on the horizon rose in the distance. She recognized the silky black as it moved through the air.
Prince Nikolai and his crew rode in a carriage behind the Second Army escort. They were adorned in their traditional privateer garb. Nikolai was given his Sturmhond face by one of his comrades. Their identities rivaled the status of the monarchy that it was easy to realize the lack of connection between the adventurous prince and the blood thirsty pirate. It went against all logical thought to think the bold mouthed sea captain was that lovely, charming younger prince.
They had seen each other the night before launch. He observed the quiet tension between the Second Army carriage. A soft comment was made that their own carriage would be too loud to enjoy.
Alina thought to invite him inside their own. It would have comforted her to have his companionship to ease the unsaid words between the General and her.
One sharp look of Aleksander cut through that hope, It would be the worst ride if she thought to invite him aboard.
The closer they neared the Fold, the more motion she detected from the corner of her sight.
Ivan casted his intense glances at the General. The General did his best to ignore them completely. The harder the Heartrender pushed, the more severe the shake of their General's head.
She grew weary of their back and forth. "Just say it," she said flatly.
The two men became aware of Alina's awareness to them. They shifted in their seats.
She kept her eyes locked out the opposite window out at the Fold that might claim her life one day. In truthfulness, it already had claimed her. It claimed every waking moment. Perhaps, her death, too. Days grew short to know when that might come.
"How are you feeling, Miss Starkov?" Ivan asked finally. "You were with the Healer yesterday, were you not?"
Her eyes flashed to Aleksander. "Who told you?"
"My sources are private."
She turned back to her own window. "As is my business."
The carriage went silent once more. It dried in thicker, stickier tension over them all.
Zoya remained back at Little Palace. She was in charge in the General's absence. It was a small blessing not to have to look at that scowling mug the entire trip.
Long ago, a trip to the True Sea would have dazzled her. An adventure beyond the belief of an orphan.
It was a dream of Mal's to cross the sea, too. Blue, his favorite color. He wished to see an endless realm of crystal blue waters as they rocked him side to side.
She yearned for her friend. His absence in her heartache only pulled farther, now that she hadn't Aleksander to turn to.
They had not spoken those three days.
Three days of utter silence. Even their bond was closed. Both were resigned to hold their emotions back until it ate them alive rather than admit their pride stepped in the way of things.
It hadn't bothered her that he had a serious girlfriend before her. It was centuries ago that Luda died. He knew she was a mortal woman. Love cannot be stopped. It was not his fault for finding a person that mattered so much to him that it would leave him with grief. If she died, she'd want him to feel some kind of grief, too.
Luda was only the spearhead to a larger issue they had. There was no openness. They remained sealed shut to each other whilst being so connected. Their bodies were happy to reunite in physical ways and when the time came to share their feelings, it faltered.
Aleksander hadn't wanted to marry her. That only made her slightly bitter. Slightly.
He hadn't offered an explanation. None. It was just avoided like an embarrassing question.
She didn't understand it. Why. Why hadn't he just explained why he didn't like the idea instead of ignoring it completely. It made her insecure. Where she stood in his life, in his eyes, where she stood at all.
Ivan and Aleksander continued their game of exchanging looks until the carriage breeched the First Army camp at a crossing point. It took her breath away. The scents on the wind, the hearty density of the air so close to the wall of the Fold. Memories of being stationed there all flooded back. It was where she first discovered the Grisha power that flowed inside her veins. Where Aleksander and her first met.
Those first images of Aleksander – the Black General as she knew him then – were so different.
She stared steal a glance at the man. His gaze bled into hers, much filled with similar memories.
They ripped their gazes away to watch the carriage pull deeper into the First Army camp. A sea of eyes as they passed.
The horses came to a halt. An echoing sound of the driver as he pulled their reins.
The door of the carriage was pulled open. Alina did not hesitate to jump through the opening. Anything to release her from the atmosphere trapped within those small, closing walls.
Olive green uniforms went on for miles. Their tents, the uniforms. The entire camp was drenched in the lifeless green.
What was lively was the attention at her. Their eyes roamed her length. The black kefta embroidered with golden thread atop her shoulders as she kept her chin held high.
Once she was one of them, a cartographer in their ranks, forgotten and unseen, but not anymore.
She was their fucking sun saint. A fact she wouldn't forget.
"We leave at first light."
Aleksander was suddenly behind her shoulder. His wispy breath on the air behind her ear.
"Don't be late," he warned.
He entered a large domed tent. It swallowed him whole without invitation that she was expected to join.
She stared off at that tent flap with utter, slow devastation. A closed off separation. Much like their own closed bond.
"Sunshine!" A voice called through the camp.
Her body jumped. Prince Nikolai – still in the body of Sturmhond – stood there near his own crew. They waited. Their eyes urging her closer.
"Come on." Nikolai waved his arm. "Let's find some grub."
Her eyes felt erased, dead. She nodded. The lump at the back of her throat, swallowed.
If there was no future for her and Aleksander now, she could bare the loneliness if it meant there were others to share in that loneliness.
Nikolai found their tent – far away and less elegant than the Second Army tents erected for the General and (likely) Alina. It was sparse. A few cots with their simple bedding. There was, however, a round solid oak table at the center.
They seemed satisfied with their accommodations. Tamar and Tolya plopped in chairs. Their limbs spread out in unusual positions as they made themselves comfortable.
"We'll get it," Nikolai said with a roll of his eyes. "Lazy bastards."
"Hey. We aren't the ones who slept the entire ride here," Tolya said.
It became apparent by the expectation in Nikolai's eye that he wanted her to follow.
"I suppose we both know where a chow tent is around here," he commented, "and what's to be expected when we eat the food from there."
Her lips pulled to a soft smile. "I imagine they'll have your favorite." He raised his brow in question. "Grey dumplings."
The man threw his head back in boisterous laughter. "As long as they've got the sour cream to go with it, I'll manage. Same can't be said about my crew. They'll be moaning and groaning all night about it."
"I suppose a stew of mystery meat isn't the better option."
They walked into the tent filled with tons of other First Army ranks. No one approached as they loaded their trays with food. The crowd turned to whispers. Alina struggled to get the attention out of her mind while Nikolai seemed at ease to the discomfort within the tent.
They neared the end of the chow line when a faint voice came from outside the tent.
"Alina!"
She recognized it from anywhere. It was Mal. He ran up through the tent to where she and Sturmhond stood.
Her arms went around his neck as he took her in a tight embrace. "It's so good to see you again," he said.
Their last parting had felt so horrid, like they would forever be scarred by it. It eased the beating of her heart to know that some things would not change. Mal was forever the same.
When his arms released her, he took a long look. The hidden swell of her belly was harder to conceal behind her kefta. It was only slightly raised from the expanse of her body.
"When did you get in?" He asked.
"Just now," she said, "like we literally just landed."
"I just got back from a trip when I heard the news that the Second Army was in camp," he explained. "Saw the carriage and knew you'd have to be here too."
Alina smiled. "I'm only here for the night. We leave a first light."
The excitement lessened in his face. "So soon."
She swallowed her guilt with the concealment of a nod. "We're on a mission."
"We?"
What he meant was, the General. He asked if they were still together.
Alina gestured over her shoulder where a large man with a mane of wild red hair stood. "This, we. Well, him and his crew. They're back at the tent. Starving."
"Oh." He took ahold of the loaded tray in her hand. "Allow me. You shouldn't have to carry all that."
She blushed. It was not that heavy. "Oh. Thanks, Mal."
"I am so happy to see you."
The attention made her suddenly suspicious, and uncomfortable. She cleared her throat many times to no avail.
Nikolai was far easier to win over. He extended his large, gnarled hand, scarred from his assumed sea tales of victory. Alina watched the pleasure surge through his eyes as he revealed his identity. It had Mal drooling.
The two men walked off together and left her to trail behind. She was thankful for the breath it gave. Away from the eyes of the world. Only. The First Army around her did not hide their stares at her.
Sun summoner. Once one of them. Now, assumed right hand of the Black General. If they only knew how little he shared with her. It would be insult to her powers.
Sturmhond's loud laughter echoed from within the tent. A hum of his friends around him as they talked, Mal included in their noise, a joy in their tones. A few laughs. A group of friends in comfort at the task expected of them, no question of what will come. Just a night, a meal, a moment together.
Her eyes trailed in the direction of where her love sat, over a desk, stressed and panicked. His hair was bound to be fallen to the sides from all the fidgeting of his fingers.
She longed for a moment like that, with him. A group of friends, a life of laughter and companionship, to ease the isolation that came from their own status.
Two lonely people meant for each other.
"You comin' Sunshine?" Nikolai held open the flap. The rest of the tent was quiet, in wait. All their eyes were on her.
Tamar waved an arm for her to join. Mal stood near the mouth of the tent, excited smile on his mouth.
She nodded. "Yeah. Save me a plate."
The rest of her night was spent in the company of her friends. Her stomach ached from all the laughter. The twins had her rolling every minute as did Nikolai's stories, that were somehow funnier away from the palace. Mal absorbed every detail. Eyes widened in a child-like gaze as he listened to their high sea adventures.
The night ended with him being called before his commander. He gave her a quick hug.
"I'll try to see you off," he said.
"Guess it depends on what kind of trouble you're in now."
They shared that knowing smile.
Alina finally dragged herself into her cot at the stirring of the rest of Second Army. Dawn approached. The pounding of boots on the ground as they readied for the launch across the Fold kept her mind from dozing off.
A hand shook her shoulder gently. "Miss Starkov," it said.
She rolled over and groaned. "No, please. Ten more minutes."
The Heartrender shook his head. "It is time to rise, I'm afraid. General's orders."
She readied, half conscious, as best as she could. Her clothes stayed the same. Even her underclothes. The effort that it would take to remove her clothes to change them seemed insurmountable.
Ivan found her on the edge of her bed, snoring softly, ten minutes later.
"Miss Starkov." He shook her shoulder again. "Time to leave."
Her feet dragged to the ship. The whites of her eyes burned. Each blink was torture.
"Miss Starkov," a man greeted. She hardly noticed who it was. Her hand waved at him lazily before trying to find the place she was supposed to go.
Her knees wobbled. She started to fall before a hand latched onto her hip.
"I got you." Aleksander held her close, the only thing that supported her to standing. "Are you feeling ill?"
She shook her head. "No. I'm brilliant."
"You're all sweaty and eyes are all blood-shot." He examined her very carefully. "If you are ill, you can tell me."
Her hands finally found their strength. Legs too. She pushed from his chest gently. Albeit the sturdy grasp on her hip, he allowed her to force the separation between them.
The hurt read clear through the blackness of his eyes.
"I'll be right as rain with some sleep," she assured him.
She was not weak. She could survive on her own.
He had to understand that. He did not have to clench her so tight. It was suffocating.
"Enjoy the voyage."
"You do remember that you'll be protecting the ship, don't you?" Aleksander asked stiffly.
Alina staggered a blink. "What?"
"Your light will protect the ship and everyone in it. I'll need you on the helm to shield us from the Volcra."
Volcra. Twisted creatures of darkness that resided within the Fold.
They were the reason Mal almost died and Alina was discovered. The Volcra attacked their ship. Everyone was killed in their wake. Their talons clawed bodies in half. What their claws did not shred, their fangs did.
She gulped loudly. "Right."
Sturmhond's crew was loaded onto the ship after Second Army. They looked rather normal compared to her. Their late-night hours, lack of sleep must have been a commonality on the seas.
She grew jealous of their bright eyes.
Aleksander escorted her to the front of the ship. He lingered close. Closer than he needed.
"I can do it on my own, thank you," she snipped.
The man was a living amplifier. He amplified her abilities for the first demonstration for the King. Just one touch lit her alive with light.
"I thought you'd like the help," he said softly. "Seeing as you're not yourself and you have a load of lives dependent on you."
It cut through her hardened resolve to prove her strength. The devastation she remembered from her last ride in the Fold was vivid, awful, bloody. She remembered fire and screams. The flashes of gun as they fired into darkness. The flaps of distant wings and the faraway cries of beasts on the wind.
Her hands trembled as they slid down the front of her kefta. "You're right. There are too many here to risk."
Squallers forced them forward. Their bodies lurched at the surge.
Nikolai remained topside as they eased into the Fold. His sword was at his hip. A mighty hand placed atop the hilt in preparation for trouble. He caught Alina's eye through the growing anticipation. They shared a look. It transferred an ounce of confidence in her dwindling reserves.
She stole a shuddering breath. So many people trusted her to see them safe.
"Once we're fully inside, create a ball of light that extends past the reaches of the ship."
Her lips gave another sigh. "Okay."
"We're going to make it," Aleksander said gently. "This is a fraction of your might."
"You don't even know what I'm capable of."
There were things that she learned with Nikolai that she'd never gotten the chance to demonstrate for him.
He remained fixed in permanent indifference as their bodies were swallowed into the darkness of the Fold. A strong cloak of shadow coated him. Stronger than the others. She saw the moving life of the black around.
She glowed like a light lived beneath her flesh. The faintest, slightest glow of sunlight.
The ship fully inserted into the Fold. She pushed her palms together. The gentlest touch of Aleksander's hand brought a startling brilliance to the warm ball of light. It grew and grew. Between her palms she held the light of an entire sun.
Then she remembered what Nikolai had taught her about the emotion reserve. Power remained there. Hidden and unlocked.
Her mind focused on the ball of light. She shifted her palms as she crafted an image of light within her hands. The beaming rays of light realigned from a simple orb to a complex ship, the exact same kind they rode on right then.
It took great concentration to make it. As she worked, the pressure of Aleksander's touch grew.
At long last, she threw her hands back above her head. The entire ship glowed with her light, a precise fit over everything. Each crew member and person aboard was coated in their own shimmering cloak of sunlight.
Aleksander's eyes were wide as he stared down at his hands. They glowed with her radiance. The power of light over his darkness.
The journey of the Fold was uneventful. A glow of light repelled all the nasty creatures away from their transport until they were clear to the other side.
It was only a moment that they were in the clear in West Ravka that Alina dropped to the floor, and everything went black.
She awoke to a swinging pendent light above her head. Warm wood coated the walls in planks. It reeked entirely of salt.
Her nostrils filled with salt at every breath. Moisture through the air. A strong churning outside the walls.
She winced and rolled away. Her body ached. She was overcome with fatigue.
A warm hand was beneath her cheek. It held her gently. The sensation of touch coated the flesh of both.
She ventured a peek.
The cramped bedroom had little room apart from the mattress. A chair was smashed into the corner. In that darkened corner of the room in that chair sat a man. His head hanged down to his chest. A thin black shirt covered his thin chest. The makings of muscles laid below it.
The greasy strands of his hair hanged down past his face. They were rough from what looked like days without bathing.
Aleksander.
His hand was the one underneath her torso. It was stretched across the bed, toward her, as if he'd been waiting there patiently, hand in reach of her connection, the emptiness of her body as she was unconscious.
Those hands. They treated her with softness. They were her favorite when they cradled her close to his chest with all hope that they might only draw closer to one another.
Alina climbed to her elbows intent on getting out of bed when a sudden sensation filled behind her eyes. It rocked and rolled, like a mass of water within her mind. She groaned at the nausea.
Aleksander's eyes snapped open. His hand animated back to life.
"Alina," he breathed.
She winced as she nodded. "How long have I been out?"
His eyes scanned over her with quiet precision. The wrinkled forehead of pain and restraint as she lowered to the pillow once more. "Three days."
"We're on Nikolai's ship, aren't we?" The rocking swell of ocean waves against the sides of the room. It made sense why she felt nauseous. "My stomach and head are spinning like we are."
"Yes. These were the only kind of rooms available," Aleksander grumbled as he rose from the corner chair and stretched out his long legs through the space. "The state of the ship is far below what I pictured the prince's standards to be. I have my eye on another room with ample space for your belongings, but it needs to be cleaned thoroughly first." He rambled off his anxieties without control. "Bacteria everywhere. You'd be on your death bed before long."
That haze of early morning – or when the mind first awoke after a long state of rest – made the warming of her heart so easy. She adored the way Aleksander spoke, so nervous and beyond his calculations. It was a beautiful unscripted moment that had her mouth twisted in a goofy grin to observe.
Aleksander fidgeted with the cuffs of his shirt. They'd been roll up to his elbows. It looked many days since he'd cared for himself.
She frowned. Worry radiated through his aura. The shadows were untamed in flickering waves.
"I'm not ill," she assured him. "I swear."
"This trip was a mistake." His hand ran down the front of his face. "It's only been a few days in and you've been unconscious for most of them."
She rose to her elbows and fought back the churning of her stomach to do so. "That was my own stupid fault. I stayed up all night in camp and forgot that I had to protect the ship. And I hadn't really eaten much at supper either. And now that I think about it, it's been a while since I drank any water."
He sighed. "For Saints sake, Li."
His hands yanked open a wooden door. Ivan stood just beyond it's reaches. "Get Alina a tray of food. And a pitcher of water."
The red kefta bowed and turned away from the threshold. Aleksander closed the door back in its latch.
"Must you always make me worry?" He said with a sigh.
"That's not my intention."
Aleksander stood in the center of the room, just at the end of her bed, with a faraway look in his eye. It was filled with desperation and pain.
She shifted. "What?"
"I'm losing you, Alina, and I don't know how to stop it." The swell in his throat bobbed as he struggled to shift his emotion back behind his flesh. "I want to climb into this bed and hold you, but I know you don't want me to and that it isn't right. But I want to. I want you and our child and our life together. I need that. At the end of it all, I need that."
Her breath caught in her chest. She blinked away the disbelief in her expression before he saw.
There were many things she wanted to say to him. So many things that she'd kept to herself for another time. They all fought for dominance. What would be the first thing out of her mouth? It all had place in both their minds.
Alina finally found footing. If there was to be vulnerability, she had to reflect that, too, or he'd never do it again.
"I love you, Alek. I want everything you said," she revealed. "But you have to do that thing you asked of me when I returned to Little Palace. Trust. You have to trust me enough to tell me the truth. About everything. If you want a partner, you have to treat me like a partner."
He swallowed. Resistance in his eyes, the showings of his insecurity through their darkness.
"You want to know the truth about me?"
She nodded. "Yes. Every little piece until I know you better than anyone else does."
It was obvious there was a struggle through his features as he sought to find a place to start. A past as long as his was bound to be muddled together, right and wrongs done over the course of time, under different circumstances and reigns.
Alina thought to give him a gentle nudge. "Why don't we start with Luda? Hm? Tell me about her."
"I'm not in love with her," he said firmly. "I don't still love her, I mean."
When it was last mentioned, Aleksander was defensive and firm. It was all too serious for him to discuss clearly without emotion attached to it.
She thought that it might help him open up if it was not on such a serious note. It was a gamble. He was not known for his humor. Lack thereof, yes. But his laugh was not a common enough sound that people knew.
"It doesn't bother me if you did love her," Alina explained. "This was a millennia ago."
The force that knocked his eyebrows to the height of his hairline was something to behold.
"It was only four hundred years ago…"
His voice enunciated the correction with visible disbelief. It made a splash of amusement wash against her.
He didn't want to seem too old.
"Right." She withheld a smile. Her voice stayed as serious as she could manage. "Eons and eons before I came along."
It took a full minute for Aleksander to grasp the nature of her words. He battled inside himself until a slow smile finally emerged. Her own showed the humor of statements. It relieved the sparking kindling in the room around them. Tension in her stomach loosened as he dropped to the bed with a chuckle.
"See?" She pushed a palm against his back. "Isn't it easier to tell me things than start a fight?"
He reached over and touched her bare ankle gently. The pressure of his touch washed over her with rippling pleasure that came from being whole again. His half of her restored.
"I thought you disliked being my second serious love interest," he expressed with deep genuine tone.
She laughed. 'Love interest'. Was he sure he wasn't born a millennium ago?
"It is a hard thing to grasp, your age. The fact that Luda died a couple hundred years ago sounds strange, but I understand it. I don't want your past to be filled with loneliness and sadness. It makes me happy that you knew love before me." She climbed to her knees. Nausea still kept at the back of her throat but the lessening of the tension of other things calmed its temper. Her arms wrapped around the back of his neck. "You know what we fight for. Goodness of the world. Love."
He nuzzled against her cheek; a soft kiss placed there. "What'd I do to deserve you?"
"Not enough," she teased. "Now, keep talking. Tell me about her. What was she like?"
"Timid. Soft-spoken. But she had a brilliant mind. She made her powers grow at an exponential rate. It was breathtaking to witness. Luda taught herself to heal at a distance."
"I thought only the highest ranked Healers can do that," Alina murmured against his face.
"Not many can do it well," Aleksander explained.
"She must have been someone truly special."
"Her powers weren't even the best thing about her." His hands reached up. Long fingers interlaced with hers. As if he wanted to anchor Alina to his body, his anxiety over talking about his past lover filled up his discomfort.
Alina recognized the absence of breath. The tension through his spine against her body. She gave his hands a gentle squeeze of support.
He struggled with the next part. "She had a kind soul. She saw hope in me when everyone else saw fear. My darkness did not frighten her. Very rarely did anyone invite the use of my powers for anything, but slaughter. They did not like exposure to such things in the civilized world. But Luda. She didn't shrink away when I used my gift."
His fingers were tight against hers.
"I wish Mal had been like that," Alina admitted.
"She gave me something I hadn't realized I wanted." He brought his lips to her hand and placed a tender kiss on each of them. "Acceptance. And when she was killed -."
A knock at the door interrupted the moment. She was released of his hold as he went to the door.
Ivan held a tray with steaming plates. Their smells wafted in through the open door. Her stomach's sudden need became known. It twisted to the point of pain.
Her feet hit the wooden floorboards. "Thank you, Ivan." She pulled the tray from his hands.
Aleksander looked completely shocked at this. He only tipped his head in the Heartrender's direction before the door closed.
Alina placed the tray atop the bed. Her fingers lifted cloches off of juicy meats. White flakey fish with buttery goodness spilled over top. A steaming bowl of potato hash. Vibrant green asparagus.
She kept quiet able to sense the thoughts of his past through his mind. Something captured his attention, the entirety of his emotions were surrounded by it. Whatever it was, it was serious.
Her throat swallowed a bite. "Did you see her…"
The words refused to breed to the air. It was difficult to articulate, much less imagine. All she knew was that the idea of Mal being killed in front of her – because of her – was too awful to bear.
Aleksander looked away and nodded. "Yes."
Alina's fingers trembled against the tray. "I am sorry. You must have been devastated."
"I tried to save her," he revealed softly. His voice was near lost to the sounds of the crashing waves against the sides of the ship. "I rode through the night to find some kind of help. She laid on my lap, barely conscious. I couldn't think. There was so much blood all over me as I pulled her off my horse. I knew. Even as I tried, I knew she was gone."
Darkness swallowed the room. All light of the day was pushed away, only sheer black throughout their breaths.
His chest heaved high. Breaths were audible, fast and struggling.
She climbed through the shadows to him. His need so palpable that it thundered through their bond. It ruptured against her as the waves of grief and anger and fear swept through them both.
"When the moment she died in my arms, I felt the light die, too." His throat quivered. "I was left in darkness for eternity."
Alina pulled him. Through the black, she felt his body move. His chest, his arms, his body moved and followed her grasp until it rested against hers. She cinched her arms tight against him.
Tears filled her eyes. "That's why I'm here," she whispered into his ears through her own sadness. "The light wanted you to know you aren't alone."
Shards of light, golden diamonds, splintered through the room. Their gold shimmering light fought against the strength of his comforting shadows until the black lifted to a light dim. Enough for their eyes to find each other.
The broken mask of Aleksander, the calm and control all dissipated, now the true man below exposed.
Power grew to her diamonds. They grew lighter and lighter. Her eyes turned to pure stars as she battled out his own grey fears, his cloak of darkness of protection.
He gazed up at the light with fascination. Total adoration. Love for her power, and her light.
There was no question in her soul that he was the one made for her, her for him. Total opposites meant to be twisted together in a story of struggle and defeat, only to find one another and complete the end of an era of darkness. Together.
Shadows retracted from their hold. They fluttered back to their master, beneath his skin.
Her own powers drained her. She fell back to the bed in exhaustion, him still in her grasp next to her.
They laid in silence. Eyes locked at the ceiling above.
"I love you, Li." Warm breath broke against her cheek.
She smiled softly. "I love you with all my heart, Alek."
The grumble of her stomach spoke its dissatisfaction with what little it was given. It captured Aleksander's attention. He sat up, easing her to sitting as well.
"Please, eat," he said with a gentle kiss atop her nose.
"Only if you keep talking," she answered.
It took a moment to consider her request, but she knew he hadn't the heart to deny her. Not anymore. He gave a gentle nod. She indulged him by tearing back into the food tray with eagerness. It settled his spine. The pulse below his flesh quieted to a contentedness as she ate.
She was so excited about the fruits given. Sliced apples and oranges of vibrant green and orange. It made her smile to suck the sugar from them.
"What else is it that my lady wishes to know?"
She gave a smug smile as a piece of orange peel hanged from her lips. "Um, tell me about your childhood."
"My childhood?" He repeated grimly.
"Yeah, tell me what it was like with Baghra."
Aleksander thought on the idea for a very long while before he said, "We moved around a lot. Never settled in one place for too long. The genocide of Grisha was very prevalent back then, more so than it is now. Being caught Grisha meant a death of the worst nature and we were too different to remain in a town for too long. Every month it was a new name, new town."
"Sounds lonely," Alina commented. "What about your father?"
"Father? Never knew him."
That was a surprise. "Really? Not at all?"
"I know he was a Heartrender." He shrugged. "That's all."
Alina knew that feeling. She knew nothing about her own parents. It left a gaping hole, a question, a part of an identity left blank.
She reached over and grasped his hand – after having all the butter wiped onto the old, stained bedspread.
"Things will be different," she said, "for ours."
"I know." It was gentle and loving, his tone. She felt the true emotion behind him.
Her lips pressed against his cheek. "Can you imagine how spoiled they'll be? The entire Little Palace wrapped around their finger."
"Their rank will surpass my own, I do believe."
Alina smiled. That would make her blessed. A family, like she always dreamed of at the orphanage. A family to love and cherish her achievements, tend to her wounds, both mental and physical, read to her, and share her secrets. Mal was the only one close enough to that description.
Aleksander reached over and caressed the space their child occupied. "Everything is…alright, isn't it? With the baby."
"I only saw the Healer to ensure the Fold and the ship wouldn't harm them," she explained. Her hand rested atop his against the bump. "Everything is fine."
"I was worried."
"I wouldn't hide anything like that from you. You're their father."
"Father," he repeated in a whisper. Still a word he wasn't accustomed to yet.
As they laid there, something bumped. Hard.
Both their eyes bulged. Aleksander clearly felt it, too. Their hands spread out, pressed into the hardening flesh in search of what they suspected was the cause. The child they created moved. It kicked!
Despite their best efforts to illicit a response, it did not repeat.
They sighed in defeat.
"That's the strongest I've ever felt."
A distinct satisfaction lined his lips as he smiled. "Good." He leaned down to kiss the bump. "That means it will be ready for the world when it comes."
But would the world be ready for it? That was truly the defining question.
It was not prepared for the entrance of either parent. Chances were slim that they knew what to expect from the offspring of two powerful living saints of the world.
Alina felt the power through its body. As small as it was, as insignificant as it was, power swirled at the base of her body as if it was drawn to it. The womb of creation pulled the energies around them. Like a cocoon around their developing body until they were ready to emerge and burst forth from that power totally immune to what may come.
A mother's instinct. Alina had it.
Her soul whispered the truths of the growing child inside her: their baby would change everything.