Disclaimer: I don't own the Grisha Trilogy and its characters – it belongs to Leigh Bardugo. I do not own the Shadow & Bone TV series, which was developed by Eric Heisserer for Netflix and based on Leigh Bardugo's books. Any recognisable dialogue is from the books or TV show – some lines may be included verbatim, others in an amended form.
The Shadow King & Sun Queen
A knock at the door had Alina looking up eagerly, "come in."
Her best friend stepped inside, admiring the airy, bright room that had been quickly transformed into Alina's own personal study.
"Genya," she let out a sigh of relief, "thank the Saints. Please tell me there's some urgent business that requires my presence anywhere that isn't here."
"Sorry," the Tailor shook her head, "I just came to remind you about the fitting for your coronation gown this afternoon."
Alina slumped in her seat, seriously contemplating slamming her head against the beautiful wooden desk she was sat at as her visions of escape vanished.
"I promise it won't be that long a fitting, not like the last one."
"It's not that," Alina explained, "it's only … I think the paperwork is going to drive me insane."
Genya let out a sympathetic hum, "the old king was not the most diligent when it came to this sort of thing."
"That's an understatement," Alina snorted, "there are papers here which should have been approved almost two years ago. How in the name of all the saints did anything ever get done?"
"You know the answer to that," Genya prompted her.
Aleksander, of course. It certainly explained why he had a constantly overflowing desk every time she visited the War Room or his library. But he'd had too many other responsibilities to take on everything, so it was only natural that the less important things fell by the wayside as the old king chose pleasure over duty.
"You'll get some help," her friend promised, "competent people who know what they're doing. There'll probably actually be money in the budget for it, considering you are selling so much of the hideous furniture here and won't be ordering ten course dinners that include three different types of caviar every day."
Alina wrinkled her nose. Caviar wasn't quite as bad as herring, in her eyes, but it was a close thing.
"And how are you, Genya?" she asked the Tailor.
The two of them had spent the better part of three hours locked in Alina's room after the audience with the former queen a few days previously, Genya crying noisily into Alina's arms as she let out all the frustration and anger and hurt that had built up inside her.
When Genya's sobs had finally subsided, she had sat at the dressing table, methodically wiping away all traces of tears. Since then, Alina hadn't seen any outward sign of difficulties, but she knew well enough that there was probably plenty of damage she couldn't see, things that it might take Genya years to heal from.
"I'm alright," her best friend promised, "David has been very good. He said … he said I'm brave and unbreakable, steel on the inside. That I don't need fixing."
Her voice wavered slightly on the last sentence and Alina hated that Genya has ever been made to feel like she was somehow broken because of what the old king did to her.
She also recognised that some of what David had said came from the Grisha wedding vows, and if that wasn't a sign that he was serious about Genya then Alina didn't know what was.
"I'm so, so happy for you," Alina threw her arms around her friend.
"Well, I don't think we'll be getting married as quickly as you and the king," Genya said wryly, "but we've applied for a shared room and the king has approved the request. Whether David actually ever remembers that he's moved is another matter entirely."
Alina laughed. David spent so much time in the Fabrikator Workshop that he sometimes had to be gently reminded that sleeping in a bed was infinitely better for him than simply drifting off at his desk when he had worked a frankly insane number of hours without any kind of break.
"Since you're here," Alina gave Genya her best pout, "maybe you could help me with this," she gestured to the pile on her desk.
"Oh, I don't think I'd be any use," the Tailor protested, "I … I missed some of the core classes when I was helping the old queen. I still need to catch up."
"Don't worry," Alina grinned, handing her some papers, "I think you're perfect for this."
It was a number of reports on the jewellery, clothing and furnishings that belonged to the Crown. It needed checking so that they could decide what to keep and what to try and sell off to replenish the coffers.
"I know your good taste isn't just limited to dressing queens," she added, "and you are fully aware that I'm terrible at this sort of thing. You'll know what can be salvaged and what we should sell."
"Well, I do have an hour or two free," her friend conceded, "and it would truly be a delight to help get rid of some of the awful things in this palace. They offend every one of my fashion and design sensibilities."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you."
"You're welcome, darling. Let's get started."
Whenever she had half an hour spare, Alina tried to find a quiet spot so that she could practice summoning without using her hands.
The moments were few and far between. It was absolute chaos at the moment, trying to deal with the backlog of work left by the old king's mismanagement at the same time as planning their wedding and coronation.
She was only thankful that her oprichniki had standing orders to re-direct the Apparat any time he tried to come and speak with her, or she imagined she would spend half her time trying to get rid of him. As it was, she had to deal with at least one note a day from him, imploring her to reconsider her marriage and instead rule alone.
Saints, she couldn't imagine anything worse than trying to rule Ravka on her own. The paperwork alone would kill her.
Still, Alina did manage a steady improvement in controlling her power without using any hand movements.
One day, she hoped they would be able to incorporate what she had learnt into the Little Palace lessons. It would, she thought, be easier for the Etherealki to manage such feats than the Corporalki or Materialki, but hopefully the methods would eventually help all the Orders.
Alina also tried to make time to test out the limits of her and Aleksander's tether.
They had figured out that they could appear to each other whenever they were apart. It could happen unconsciously, if one of them had their thoughts focused on the other, but they also learnt that, with a little concentration, they could feel the connection and deliberately follow it to the other person.
The one who did the 'travelling' could see only the person they were visiting, but not their surroundings. Only if the other person touched something did that item or person come into focus. It remained a slightly odd sensation – they could touch each other, feel sensations, and yet they still remained physically at their original location.
Both of them were excited by the possibilities, especially because it was a secure and simple way for them to speak and exchange information even if they were far apart.
Unfortunately, they hadn't had chance to experiment with distances. Their current duties kept them both in the palaces and there were so many people flooding into Os Alta in preparation for the wedding and coronation that it would have been a bit of a security nightmare for either one of them to leave.
It was fine, though. There would be plenty of opportunities to test the distance later on.
After all, it wasn't like they didn't have the time.
Alina frowned down at the paperwork on her desk.
She had been working steadily through the pile for nearly two hours now and she was starting to see a pattern.
There were reports from people who claimed she had worked miracles for them (Alina knew full well she had done no such thing, but Aleksander insisted she not officially refute the claims). She arranged fund allocations for all the orphanages, whose dreary conditions Alina was determined to improve. There had been countless papers to sign to confirm that the gaudier pieces of furniture from the Grand Palace should be sold or melted down and used to fund the new projects Alina had planned to help the country's poorest citizens. And she had needed to check her calendar to ensure she was available for the dates set for talks with the Kerch and Kaelish delegations following the coronation.
What was conspicuously missing, she noted, was anything related to either Nikolai Lantsov or any military engagements with Shu Han or Fjerda.
Alina sighed and stood, exiting her study and making her way down the corridor to find Aleksander.
His oprichniki stepped aside without a word, allowing her to enter the Grand Palace's new War Room.
Her soon-to-be husband looked up at her entrance, his expression brightening briefly and then darkening as he saw the irritated look on her face.
"You haven't seen the Fjerdan ambassador again, have you, milaya?"
She scowled at the memory of her last interaction with Stellan Nilsen, when the odious man had suggested her time was better spent sewing and raising children rather than ruling Ravka.
"No," she shook her head, "I've been in my study and I appear to be missing a few vital pieces of information in my pile of papers."
Aleksander's expression gave nothing away but she was sure he was responsible – no one else would dare, after all.
"Where are the reports on Nikolai Lantsov?" she asked him, "and our military engagements?"
"Alina," he began, before she cut him off.
"You better not be going behind my back, Aleksander. We're supposed to be doing this together."
"There is nothing to tell about Nikolai," he insisted, "the boy is unusually adept at hiding and my spies haven't yet managed to find his location. There are no whispers of rebellion, however, so I'm inclined not to pursue him too thoroughly."
"And the war?"
"I simply wanted to be sure of the intelligence before I spoke with you."
Alina narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. There was nothing in his demeanour to suggest he was lying to her, but that didn't mean much – she might be good at reading him, but he had centuries of practice in hiding things.
"Have you had the intelligence yet?" she asked him.
"Fjerda are keeping their soldiers on their side of the border," he told her, "and although the Drüskelle are still hunting within Fjerda, they have for the moment ceased their incursions into Ravka. We have a number of operatives undercover there, attempting to smuggle any Grisha they find into Ravka. It will be a longer-term project to try and … persuade the Fjerdans to hand over their Grisha to us rather than burning them at the Ice Court."
He sounded frustrated at having to wait. If he had his way, she imagined he would send the Fold further into the icy country to force compliance from the Fjerdan royal family. However, they couldn't be too heavy handed, didn't want to make their enemy desperate – after all, desperate, cornered people could be dangerous indeed.
"What about Shu Han?" she questioned him.
"They have overstepped," was his simple, cold answer.
"Overstepped how?"
She was wary. Alina knew that Aleksander wanted to push the Fold further into Shu Han. He had promised, though, that he would only do so if he was given a good reason. It seemed a little too convenient that such a reason had arisen just as he gained the throne.
"Small groups of Shu soldiers have been raiding some of the border villages, killing everyone they find without discrimination."
Alina winced. It had been a similar kind of event that had led to the deaths of her own parents.
"It doesn't make any sense, though," she murmured, "they saw the demonstration. They know what we can do. Why would they risk it?"
Aleksander only shrugged, "perhaps they think we won't care. It is only villages they have been targeting, not military camps. And, as far as we can ascertain, no Grisha have been kidnapped or killed. The old king would have written the peasants in those villages off."
It was true. The Lantsovs had never particularly cared about civilian casualties. They reacted most strongly to attacks on Os Alta or on their military.
Unfortunately for Shu Han, Alina very much cared about all the people of Ravka.
"I want to see the reports," she insisted firmly, "all of them."
He nodded, "of course, Alina. I wouldn't dream of excluding you. I'll have everything delivered to you as soon as it is collated."
There was a part of her that thought he might have engineered this situation somehow. She wouldn't put it past him, really. But if it was a genuine incursion then they had to respond. And Alina promised herself that she would read every report thoroughly to be sure that she was doing the right thing.
The Fold might be a useful weapon, but she would not allow it to be used lightly, not even if Aleksander pushed for it.
He wanted an equal, after all, and Alina was determined to make herself one.
It took them days to finalise the guest list for their wedding and coronation.
"Do we really need so many people to see us get married?" Alina asked as she read through the pages of names, "I had rather hoped for a more private wedding service, even if all these people have to attend the coronation."
"We can have something small a few days before," Aleksander told her, "but we need a public service at the Cathedral too, on the same day as the coronation. The Grisha ceremony is not yet considered legally binding, unfortunately."
"Fine," she conceded reluctantly, "but some of these names … Colonel Volkov is known to whip his soldiers something awful for the most minor transactions, and isn't Lord Sokolov the one who was involved in that horrible case with Lord Sidorov's fifteen-year-old daughter – they say Sokolov bribed the old king to avoid the death penalty that Lord Sidorov campaigned for. Surely we cannot have such men at the service?"
"Alina, moya lyubov, if you wish for me to dispose of those men then you need only ask. However, it may be rather suspicious if there is a sudden increase in deaths at this crucial time."
"I didn't say you should kill them," she argued, "only that I didn't really want them at the wedding."
Aleksander only shrugged, "Sokolov would have been executed if it hadn't been for the bribe, and Volkov would be no great loss to anyone – he isn't even a decent commander, he only got his post as a reward for turning a blind eye to the old king tumbling his wife."
"We can't just go around killing everyone we don't like, Aleksander."
The look in his eye suggested he rather wished that they could.
"Just … just take Volkov and Sokolov off the guest list, please. And also these names too."
She handed him a handwritten list of about thirty people. Truth be told, she'd be perfectly happy to cross off about half the names she had been given, but she understood that the nobility couldn't be excluded entirely, no matter how corrupt and irritating they were. She'd therefore reluctantly cut down the list to just thirty people she really couldn't stand being included.
"As you wish, solntse," he said without even looking at the names.
It was a heady thing, to have that level of trust from him, to see that he would follow her instructions without even checking who she wished to exclude.
And if a few of them turned up dead in the next few weeks, well … Alina couldn't say they didn't deserve it.
Alina woke one morning to find that Aleksander was not beside her.
That wasn't unusual. He generally woke before her, conditioned by years of practice to need far less sleep than most people did. He might be speaking with Ivan or some of his oprichniki, getting a head start on paperwork, reading in his library or taking advantage of the fine weather to go for a ride.
However, when she sat up, she noticed he hadn't left the room.
He was sitting in one of the armchairs in the corner of their bedroom, still as a statue, head in his hands.
"Aleksander?" she asked, running through all the possible things disasters that could have occurred, "Aleksander, what's wrong?"
"She's gone," he whispered.
His voice was hoarse, the clear result of a lot of shouting. He sounded wrecked.
"Who is gone?"
She didn't know what he meant. Was somebody dead?
"Baghra," he choked out, "she vanished last night."
"Saints," Alina murmured.
Baghra's disappearance would shock all of the Grisha. None of them, after all, knew of a time where she had not been at the Little Palace.
For Aleksander it would be far worse, but only he and Alina would know that, for they were the only ones aware of the fact that Baghra was his mother.
"What happened? Why did she leave?"
He only shook his head, "we argued yesterday. The usual disagreements. She thinks us foolish for choosing to rule Ravka. She's always thought we should just leave the country to ruin itself, but I … I can't do that. Baghra, she thinks I crave only power."
Alina wondered how his mother could misunderstand him like that. Aleksander certainly enjoyed power and desired it, but not for the selfish, greedy reasons the Lantsovs had, more because it meant he could make a better life for Grisha and protect Ravka. He could be ruthless, a little too ruthless sometimes, but Alina could not deny he had good intentions.
"Did she leave a note? Say where she was going?"
She could see Aleksander clench his fists, "nothing. There was nothing."
"Are … are you going to send people to look for her."
"There's no point," he rubbed a hand across his face, looking tired, "if my mother does not wish to be found then she won't be."
"You aren't worried that she might try and sabotage our efforts?"
He sighed, "she does not care enough to try. She has always believed we should distance ourselves from others, that there is no point trying to help because everything but us will turn to dust soon enough. I truly believe if she saw a burning building full of screaming people – be they Grisha or otkazat'sya – then she would simply walk by without a care."
Alina shivered. Baghra and Aleksander had both buried their emotions deep down, but at least she knew that Aleksander cared about his Grisha and his country. Baghra seemed to see no value in anything except maybe Aleksander, and that love seemed to Alina to be a tainted thing.
She climbed out of bed and walked over to him. He let her sit on his lap and curl up against him, wrapping his arms around her, holding her tightly as if he was a little afraid to let go.
There was nothing she could do to bring Baghra back. If Aleksander said she wouldn't be found then Alina believed him.
But she could be there for him, could remind him that he wasn't alone.
He had her. And she wasn't going to leave him.
The Grisha service Alina and Aleksander had was tiny compared to the grand ceremony they would take part four days later.
It was, however, infinitely more meaningful.
The tiny chapel that stood on the Little Palace grounds was the location.
The Grisha considered the saints to have been powerful Grisha, often killed before their time by otkazat'sya who demanded too much and turned violent when it was not delivered. Therefore, most of them were not religious, although some still prayed to the saints.
As a consequence, the chapel got very little use except for Grisha ceremonies, which had sometimes been followed by a legal service elsewhere if the old king could be persuaded to allow it.
It was packed now with all the Grisha who had come to watch the Shadow and Sun Summoners bind themselves together.
Those who meant the most to them were at the front. Genya and David. Ivan and Fedyor. Nadia and Marie. Even Zoya, a slight smile beneath her haughty look. And a long line of oprichniki, most of them as serious as ever, although Alina spotted Viktor and Tomek grinning.
Somewhere in the back there was Nina Zenik, who had arrived in Os Alta to attend the ceremonies and report what she had discovered in Kerch. Fedyor had suggested she might have brought her former Drüskelle with her – Matthias, she thought his name was – but if that was the case then she was wisely keeping her lover out of Aleksander's sight.
There was less open merriment at this service than there usually would be at a Grisha wedding.
After all, while Aleksander cared deeply for the Grisha, he remained apart from them, showing real emotion with very few people. They respected and loved him, but most of them feared him too.
"I have seen your face in the making at the heart of the world and there is no one more beloved, brave and unbreakable."
A few of the guests had oohed when Alina had spoken the traditional Grisha vows.
When Aleksander had repeated them, there had been a stupefied kind of silence. None of them would deny the connection between the Shadow and Sun Summoners, but only Alina had ever heard him say anything so emotional before.
They chose to remove any reference to their names in the vows. Where he had once been the Darkling or General to his Grisha, Aleksander was now simply the king or moi tsar. His true name would remain a secret known only to Alina and Baghra.
Their kiss when they were pronounced as man and wife was fairly short, a far cry from the steamier embraces they had shared in the privacy of their chambers.
And yet, it still felt wonderful, special, perfect.
"I had to look away," Genya would admit to her later, "it seemed wrong to watch, like I was intruding on something primal and intimate."
There was a party afterwards, in the Little Palace.
Alina and Aleksander stayed for a little while, sat through a short dinner and a series of toasts (including a rather explicit one from a tipsy Nina, who endured Aleksander's dark glare without showing a shred of fear).
They escaped as soon as they could, though, back to their rooms in the Grand Palace.
It had been so busy recently that they had scarcely had a moment alone.
Suffice to say, they certainly took great advantage of the few hours of interrupted time together while the Grisha celebrated in the Little Palace.
"It won't last forever, you know," Alina warned Aleksander the day before their grand ceremony at Os Alta Cathedral.
He turned to look at her, "we are eternal, moya lyubov, it can last as long as we wish it to."
She laughed lightly, "You are far too clever to believe that, Aleksander. Remember what you told me once – the age of Grisha power is coming to an end."
"We are not ordinary Grisha, Alina."
"No," she conceded, "we are not."
Light and dark. Sun and shadow. They were each other's balance, but they also represented balance in the world. Grisha power might one day fade, but Alina thought it likely that they never would. Time would pass them by and yet they would remain.
It was an exhilarating thought, but also a terrifying one.
"However," she added. "there might come a day when Ravka must move forward on its own."
Aleksander said nothing, but she could read the scepticism in his eyes. He had been working towards the protection of Grisha for centuries, had suffered and toiled and plotted and killed for it. Alina was aware of his noble goals and his good intentions, but she was not blind – his ambition, his ruthless pursuit of his aims, his deep-seated hatred for what Shu Han and Fjerda had done to Grisha and his firm belief that they were what was best for Ravka meant he would not easily let go of the throne he now sat on, the power he wielded.
"They are sheep, most of them," he argued, "they don't know what they need."
"I think you underestimate them," Alina told him softly.
"Or perhaps I am realistic," Aleksander countered, "I have lived centuries, solntse. Many things change but some stay the same – they are usually just as small-minded and petty as they were when I was but a boy."
Alina sighed. It was true that Aleksander had lived a long time, had a good grasp on what motivated people, on how they thought. However, she knew he was also detached from them in a way Alina was not, more likely to see only their flaws and failings rather than the best parts of them.
"We'll see," was all she said.
Aleksander, though he had more belief in Ravka than Baghra (who seemed to simply write everyone off as a lost cause), still didn't really trust the people of Ravka to know what was best for themselves. He felt that they would always need a guiding hand.
Alina, though, she had faith.
Hopefully, one day, Ravka could stand on its own two feet.
The morning of their big ceremony dawned bright and clear.
Alina woke in her old bedroom, which felt slightly odd after spending every other night since returning from the Fold in her and Aleksander's new rooms at the Grand Palace.
Genya had decided that they should follow the old tradition of separate rooms the night before the wedding, going so far as to insist that Alina return to the Vezda Suite in the Little Palace, while Aleksander remained in their rooms in the Grand Palace.
"You know we are already married in the Grisha tradition, right?" Alina asked her, "and that I am not a blushing virgin bride?"
Genya snorted, "Alina, every person in both the palaces knows what you and the king get up to – you aren't very good at being quiet. I'm pretty sure Ivan might be scarred for life."
"He only walked in on us once," Alina rolled her eyes, "and he didn't even see anything."
"A good thing too," Genya murmured, "I'm pretty sure the king would have sliced him in half with the Cut, regardless of the fact that he's our best Heartrender, if he'd caught a glimpse of something he shouldn't have."
"The point is," Alina said, "that I really don't think we need to follow this particular tradition."
"I am not spending half an hour removing marks from your neck because the two of you got distracted by each other. We're going to be on a tight enough schedule as it is."
"You know, I'm highly suspicious of a dress that will take you the better part of an hour to put me into," Alina muttered, "especially since you won't let me see the finished product."
"You're going to look stunning, Alina," Genya promised, "don't worry."
Now, Genya bustled around her with half a dozen maids, ordering her into the bath as she laid out her kit on Alina's dressing table.
Sadly, she didn't have much time to enjoy the steaming, sweet-smelling bath. They were, as Genya had mentioned at least a dozen times in the last twenty minutes, on a tight schedule.
When she exited the bathroom, wrapped in her favourite velvet robe, she couldn't help but gasp at the sight in front of her.
Alina had never been particularly bothered by clothes. She loved her keftas, since they were comfortable, practical and, in the winter months, lovely and warm. However, she didn't have Genya's excellent taste or love of fashion.
The dress in front of her, though … it was a masterpiece.
The gold sarafan had short bell sleeves and wide, cream skirt with shimmering gold thread patterned across it. The outer dress was a darker shade of gold, intricately decorated with black embroidery in the shape of both full suns and eclipsed suns. It had a long train that was similarly patterned.
It was in the style of the current court dress, but far more elegant than the ostentatious, garish gowns that the old queen and her ladies used to wear.
There were a pair of sturdy black heels, thankfully nothing like the usual court monstrosities, as well as the gold coronet she had worn since she and Aleksander had returned to the palace, which she would wear until she was crowned with a kokoshnik that Aleksander had commissioned for her.
"It's all made of corecloth, obviously," Genya told her with a proud smile on her face, "the king gave me full discretion but he insisted on that as a safety precaution."
The Tailor pouted a little, "sadly, he didn't let me design something for him. I'm pretty sure he's just wearing one of his normal keftas."
Alina wasn't bothered. She didn't know if she'd recognise Aleksander in a court outfit. Outside of their chambers he never wore anything except a kefta and she wasn't surprised he wasn't changing that, even on their wedding day.
"You've outdone yourself, Genya," Alina grinned, "it's so lovely that I'm almost scared to wear it."
Her best friend rolled her eyes, "well, that would be a colossal waste of all my effort. Come on, let's get you ready."
The time seemed to fly by.
First there was the corset and other underwear. Then, Alina put the sarafan on before sitting at her dressing table while Genya made up her face and hair. After that, it was time to put on the outer dress, her shoes and her gold coronet.
When she finally looked at herself in the mirror, Alina gaped for a full minute as Genya stood next to her, proud as a peacock with her work.
"I look …"
"Stunning, amazing, like a queen," Genya grinned, "or all of the above."
Alina felt herself tear up a little and the Tailor let out a little shriek, "no crying! I'll have to fix your eyes."
A deep breath in and Alina was calm again, "I'm ready."
"Right," Genya smiled, "let's go make the king's eyes fall right out of his head."
-x-x-x-
The route to Os Alta Cathedral was lined with people.
Alina couldn't see much since Ivan – who was taking his role as head of security for the event very seriously – had insisted she remain inside the bulletproof carriage, but the shouts and cheers seemed to be positive.
"How are you feeling?" asked Fedyor.
He and Genya were sitting opposite her. Fedyor, the closest thing to a male family member she had, was going to walk her down the aisle, and Genya had the unenviable task of keeping Alina's train from tripping her up.
"I'm not thrilled at the idea of so many people I don't know or like watching me get married," she admitted, "especially since there is a chance I will fall on my face."
"You absolutely will not," Genya said, her words sounding more like a threat than something reassuring.
"I promise I will hold your arm very tightly," Fedyor looked at her with amusement, dodging out of the way as she leant over to poke him.
The two of them entertained Alina as the coach travelled slowly through the streets, and soon enough they arrived at the Cathedral, the roar of the crowd almost deafening as Fedyor opened the door and hopped down, offering her his hand so she could climb out.
There were oprichniki keeping the crowd back and making a clear path for Alina to the Cathedral door.
Alina was always disconcerted by the level of unbridled enthusiasm her presence brought to some people, but she waved and smiled, willing to do such a small thing since it seemed to make so many of the crowd happy.
Still, she certainly breathed a sigh of relief when she got inside.
Alina had rarely set foot in the Cathedral, despite the Apparat's best efforts.
Nevertheless, she had to concede that it was a magnificent building, certainly preferable to the ugly Grand Palace.
She grimaced as she remembered that the Grand Palace was now her home. It had been looking better on the inside since they removed the worst of the furniture and decorations, but Alina was hopeful that they might be able to do a bit of remodelling in a few years, once the country's financial situation was more stable.
As she caught a glimpse of the guests, Alina couldn't help the satisfied smile that crept onto her face.
The interior had been elegantly and simply decorated, none of the gaudy gold the Lantsovs had so favoured.
And section of the seating had been set aside for a number of the children from the orphanages Alina had been helping, as well as some residents of the new home she had opened for the neediest of the city's residents.
Quite a few of the nobles were turning their noses up at the clean but plain clothing those guests were wearing, but Alina didn't really care what they thought – they'd just have to learn to accept that their new queen was not like the old one, and that Alina's approach to charity was far more hands-on than Tatiana's.
Genya fussed with her train as Fedyor came to stand by her side, offering his arm, which she took gratefully.
The Tailor vanished for a moment, and then music began, the Os Alta Orchestra at their very best.
Walking down the aisle was like a dream, her mind in a sort of haze
The world came back into focus as Aleksander, in one of his black keftas with silver and gold embroidery, turned to gaze at her.
Most people would say that expression didn't change, but Alina noticed the slight widening of his eyes, how his mouth curved upwards, the brief flash of raw emotion on his face.
"You look beautiful," he murmured as she came to stand next to her, "the most alluring creature I've ever seen."
She flushed pink with happiness, "and you are so handsome it almost hurts to look at you."
It was true. He was always strikingly good-looking, but there was something more about him in that moment.
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it briefly, keeping hold of it as they turned to face the Apparat.
If she was being honest, Alina would say that she didn't pay attention to the words.
The Grisha vows had been the ones that had meant the most to her, and this ceremony was more for Ravka than it was for her or Aleksander.
Besides, her almost-husband had re-written the vows to exclude some of the more archaic parts and, of course, remove reference to their names. And there was no way the Apparat would dare try and make any amendments, not under the watchful eye of Aleksander and his most loyal Grisha and oprichniki.
The part that would always stick in her mind, aside from the moment Aleksander turned to look at her, and when they met at the altar, was when he kissed her after they had exchanged rings.
It was … everything.
All that had passed between them, every wish for the future, the full attention of a man who had been lonely for centuries and had finally found his other half.
In those seconds, no one existed but the two of them.
The wedding seamlessly became a coronation.
The coronets were removed. Alina's was replaced with a dazzling gold and pearl kokoshnik, and Aleksander's with an obsidian crown.
And then all she could hear was applause and raucous cheering.
She saw Genya and David kissing enthusiastically. Fedyor and Ivan holding hands. Marie and Nadia whooping. Botkin, keeping an eye on all of the young Grisha, bowing his head. Nina, with a tall, broad blond who could only be her Fjerdan, slipping flowers to the children and suggesting they toss them directly at Ivan. Zoya, covering her mouth to hide her smile as Ivan glared at the tiny little Grisha. The six oprichniki who had been with her for almost ten years watching her with proud eyes.
In the end, though, she really had eyes for one person. Her new husband, who looked at her like she was his whole world.
And thus began the reign of the Shadow King and the Sun Queen.
Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it.
The epilogue should hopefully be out next Monday. After that is just the bonus chapter and then this story in the series is completed.