i just wanna be yours

by Ammarantas

Alina Kir-Taban is the heiress to the Taban Dynasty. She's set to rule over Shu Han one day. Aleksander Morozov is the grandson of the Tsar Ilya Morozov. He's Ravka's son through and through. As things happen, they fall in love. It's almost inevitable, just as their respective futures.

1. secrets i have held in my heart

2022

eleven hours left

Alina wakes up with the sun on her face.

She's in a bed that's not hers.

She's in a palace that's not her family's.

She's wrapped around black silk sheets.

Aleksander's arms are around her, surrounding her in a loving, warm hug.

She wakes up kilometers away from Shu Han, but she is right at home.

She's right where she belongs, in the only place in this world where she ever wants to be.

Smiling at the feel of his warm, naked body against her, she turns around to see him. Sasha is awake, that much she knows, but he still has his eyes closed. It allows her to see him in the light of morning—noon, technically, but that doesn't really matter.

His hair is longer than the last time she visited Ravka. Granted, she was the one behind the new look after he sent her a selfie asking whether he should cut his hair. She had said no, as a joke, but then the tables turned on her. Alina had long ago decided she had eyes for no one else but him, but after seeing him with long hair and a beard, she realized she was absolutely ruined. The silly joke had been more than worth it.

The combination of those things with his beautiful dark eyes and the beauty mark were just too much for her. She was but a simple human in love with an ethereal being.

Because she loves him; it's as clear as day that she loves him. If they were normal people, that would not be a problem. Matters of the heart would remain matters of the heart. However, they are not normal people; in fact, she's pretty sure they are the exact opposite of that.

She's her grandmother's heiress, the last descendant of the House Taban. Alina is set to inherit the throne once her grandmother dies, and him… He's a son of Ravka, grandson of the Tsar, Ilya Morozov. Technically, he's third in line to the throne, after his mother Agrafena, but there are rumors that his mother doesn't want anything to do with the crown and plans to abdicate in favor of him.

Throne or no throne, Alina loves him. She has never loved anyone else, and she's sure her heart will never belong to anyone other than Aleksander. It doesn't matter to her that they have never said it out loud. It doesn't matter to her that they can only have stolen moments when either one manages to visit. It doesn't matter to her that their relationship is mostly long-distance. It doesn't matter to her that there is no real future for them.

Because she loves him, plain and simple. Her life is already hard enough—too hard to deny herself something that truly makes her happy. She might never have him in the way she wants: as a boyfriend, as a partner, as a husband. But she will have him, or at least parts of him, and she knows those parts of him belong to her and her only. Because Alina knows that Aleksander loves her as well.

Sometimes, words are not as necessary as royal advisors think.

"I should go," she whispers, hand caressing his beard. That was not what she was planning to say when she opened her mouth, but at the end of the day, it doesn't matter if she admits her true feelings or not. They both know. "It's very late, I should go."

Aleksander opens his eyes, and she immediately smiles at the sight.

"And why would you want to go, solnishka?" he asks, playful, as one of his arms tightens around her waist to pull her closer. Alina doesn't even have words; he just looks so beautiful, and his tone is teasing but light and completely intoxicating.

Still, she tries to be firm. "Sasha, I have to go. People can't see me here."

He barks a laugh that echoes around the room, and she has to use all her strength not to melt and become a puddle in his bed. Alina wonders how many people have heard him like this: uninhibited, happy, carefree. She doubts anyone else gets a front-row seat to this side of him.

He's the Black Heretic, after all. Aleksander's reputation is that of the black sheep of the family, at least in certain aspects. He's young and idealistic, often advising his grandfather to make changes in favor of marginalized communities, or campaigning for reforms regarding gay marriage, women's rights, and equal pay. Pressing about better ways to protect the environment and try to stop climate change. He also has a rebellious streak that he doesn't bother to hide, much to the pleasure of the press who love to exploit him.

"Alinochka, I am sorry to tell you, but this is the palace's worst kept secret. Everyone knows you're here. That bed of yours has remained intact ever since you arrived," Aleksander says, kissing her neck and making her sigh in response. He's right, after all. Everyone in the palace knows that the Sun Heiress and the Black Heretic are entangled in more ways than one. The people might not know, but to everyone in the palace, it's as clear as day. "So why would you want to leave me, malyshka?"

She asks herself the same thing, because it's stupid, really, to even begin to think she would want to leave his arms voluntarily.

He leaves a trail of kisses all around her neck and slowly comes towards her jaw. She smiles and lies on her back, letting him do whatever he wants with her body. Aleksander does not disappoint. As he makes it his personal mission to leave kisses all over her face, he doesn't neglect any spot, not even her lips. He takes special care of those.

He slowly parts her lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth. He's tasting her, she knows. Aleksander often tells her she's sweet, and she believes him because he also tastes sweet. The proverbial forbidden fruit could not taste any other way, she muses as she eagerly responds to the kiss.

It might be forbidden in many ways. It hardly matters. As she takes in the golden light that bathes them and Aleksander's attempt at worshiping her, Alina realizes she'll bite the forbidden fruit as many times as she needs to in order to keep having these moments with him.

"Don't leave me, Alina. Please stay," he murmurs, resting his face against her chest just as she holds him close against her heart.

Whether he means for her to stay in bed, in his arms, or forever by his side, she doesn't know. She stays, anyway.

2007

She doesn't remember meeting him. To be honest, as far as Alina is concerned, he has always existed as an important part of her life. If she looks back, he's always been there. Aleksander has always been there for her, whether it's for the major, life-changing moments, or the small ones that matter only to her. But she knows that, technically, she didn't meet him until she was six years old, during her first visit to Ravka.

It's so funny, she thinks, how life works. She wasn't supposed to exist. Keyen Kir-Taban wasn't supposed to ever bear a child, much less the child of the Ravkan ambassador in Shu Han. But as fate would have it, her mother carried her for eight and a half months. And so Alina Kir-Taban, daughter of Shu Han and heiress to the Taban dynasty, was born.

But that wasn't the end of it, because her grandmother wouldn't hear about having a half Ravkan taking the throne. She could've been discarded, sent to a temple, or even sent to live with her father. Many things could've kept her from ever meeting Aleksander, but the royal physicians told her grandmother that Keyen's ovarian cancer would make it impossible for her to ever get pregnant again.

So, Alina stayed in court, and a month after her sixth birthday, she traveled with her mother and grandmother to Os Alta, the capital of Ravka. The trip was meant to celebrate how Alina's existence was supposed to bring both countries together—her grandmother and her advisors always knew how to spin one heck of a story, she'd give them that. Really, it was her grandmother using her as leverage in the negotiations.

Alina didn't remember any of that; in fact, she remembered very little about her first visit to her father's homeland. There were infinite photos and archives of the visit, but she didn't have it in her to care about the official side of things. She cared that in July, 2007, she met the man who would change her life—although back then, he was just an eight-year-old with a sweet tooth named Aleksander Morozov.

She barely spoke Ravkan back then, and although his Shu was better, communication between them was hard. Still, the fact that they were both royalty gave them a common language that broke the barriers imposed by their native tongues. If kids knew something wel, it was how to bond thanks to boring and awful situations.

During a moment when no one was looking, Aleksander motioned for her to follow him, and off they went, away from the war room where the negotiations were taking place. Alina didn't know where he was taking her, but she decided to listen to her intuition and trust him. Her blind trust ended up being rewarded when he showed her to the kitchen, where everyone seemed to know him.

Alina might not remember everything about their adventure, but she remembers the way she felt when he introduced her to the staff around the kitchen.

"This is my new friend, Alina."

Somehow she knew, even at the tender age of six, that he said her name like it was home. Like it belonged to him.

To seal their friendship, he offered her some honey cake that the staff—well familiar with the young prince's sweet tooth—had in hand for them. He also grabbed some hot chocolate before leaving the kitchens and strutting towards the library: the only place Alina was actually eager to see. She wasn't sure how he'd known of her desire to inspect the library, but as he led her under one of the tables to feast on their spoils, she realized that it didn't really matter.

After all, it was more important to devour the cake before Aleksander stole the whole thing for himself. She tried to complain, but her Ravkan was still rusty, so it was hard to tell what she had said to him. At the end of the day, it didn't matter; he laughed, amused by her spirit and her messiness as she ended up with chocolate all over her face.

In solidarity, he smeared his face with chocolate too, despite being eight and already well-versed enough in court manners to know better. There are no pictures of them like this—being normal and happy and having fun while the adults are too busy with their stupid negotiations. There is no photographic or written evidence of Aleksander and Alina's escapade to the kitchens, or their little picnic under the library table. No one knows that he gave her a book to take back with her to Shu Han. No one knows how comfortable she felt after all the food made her sleepy, or how she ended up falling asleep on top of him with his arms around her almost protectively.

Alina doesn't need photos, because while she might not remember many things about that visit, she remembers the moment she and Aleksander became best friends. It's one of her favorite memories to revisit.

nine and a half hours left

She must've fallen asleep again, because when she wakes up, eyes blinking and trying to adjust to the sunlight that's coming from the opened curtains, Aleksander is slowly kissing her naked body. Fuck if that's not the best way to wake up, being worshiped and adored by her favorite person in the world.

"You're finally awake, solnishka. I was wondering how much it was going to take," he says softly, revealing just how sleepy he really is.

Last night, he made her come three times on his fingers and his tongue before he finally slid inside her. He only did so after Alina begged him and threatened to wake up everybody on this side of the castle with her screams. Although she knows Aleksander wouldn't have minded one bit, seemingly turned on by the mere idea of her screaming his name until her throat hurt, he had finally relented and slid home to her.

It was both sinful and absolutely heavenly to have him finally inside her. It felt like home, like his dick belonged to her, like it was made only for her body to enjoy.

"Let me, Sasha," she says, sitting up and joining their lips together in a searing kiss. A kiss that has no business being shared in broad daylight, one that's too sinful and passionate. A kiss that is meant to be shared with only the moon as their witness. But since when do they play by the rules? No, they always push the boundaries, and that's exactly what Alina does now.

As their lips crash together, her hands start to travel from his hair towards his shoulders. Her fingers are gentle and soft, but she makes a point to use her nails and it makes him shiver in response. Her hands travel across his chest and navel, eventually reaching his half-hard dick, which she starts to stroke as gently as she can, enjoying the way he shivers at her touch.

"Alina…" he murmurs against her lips, making her giggle.

"I want you inside me," she breathes against his lips. Her hand doesn't leave his dick. Instead, she still strokes him as he joins their lips again. This time it's sweeter, gentler, trying to taste each other. She's always trying to commit to memory his lips, his taste, how it feels to be adored by Aleksander. "Sasha, please…" she murmurs once they separate, making him smile.

"Whatever my solnishka wants," he answers before changing positions so that he's sitting down with his back against the headboard. He looks magnificent, she thinks. Aleksander might love black and feel more comfortable in the dark, but she thinks that he looks ethereal bathed in broad daylight—as if he was not from this world, but instead some fragment of her imagination brought to life. As her finger travels around his face, gently tracing the outline of his features, she realizes not even her imagination could've come up with him.

"I want you, Sasha. All of you," she whispers as she straddles his lap, feeling his hard, throbbing cock against her thigh. Alina doesn't immediately slide onto it; instead, she lets herself take a look at him for a second, as he does the same.

So beautiful, so perfect. All for her.

"I want all of you as well, my Alinochka," he says, looking at her with so much love in his eyes she thinks she might want to cry. The lack of words, the lack of admission on both their parts seem stupid when the feelings they have for each other are so clear, so obvious. Aleksander looks at her like the world ends and begins with her. It's so intense, so passionate that maybe it's best to look away, but she can't. It's impossible; she's never going to shy away from his gaze.

If the sun and the moon had a chance to look at each other all day, Alina is pretty sure they wouldn't waste the opportunity. So she doesn't; she makes it count.

"I'm yours, Sasha, all yours," she promises as his hand rests at the back of her head. He kisses her, a lazy kiss that is so tender, Alina feels her heart ache in response. She eagerly responds, parting her lips for him and letting his tongue into her mouth, letting him feast on her, devouring her with such gentleness that Alina lets him. She belongs to him, after all.

He holds her by the hips as he slides into her, and they both moan in response. It feels like home; it feels like a blessing to be able to feel him completely, to have him inside her without barriers. This is not the first time Alina is grateful for the contraceptive implant her grandmother told her to get. Nothing feels better than never having to worry about anything other than their pleasure.

"Always so tight. Always so perfect for me," Aleksander praises as their bodies start moving in sync. She loves to hear him like this; not only for the compliments, but because his voice sounds so rough and coarse, so different from its usual smoothness. "You are so perfect, my Alinochka, so perfect."

Alina doesn't know what it is, but everything feels charged, magnified. The slow roll of their hips has her closing her eyes, hugging Aleksander as he kisses every inch of skin available to him. She does the same, kissing his neck as their pace quickens. This is far from the first time they've slept together, but as usual, it surprises her how big his dick is, how he fills her up so completely, how amazing it feels despite the size difference.

Aleksander always knows how to make her feel good—where to kiss, suck, or lick, when to start thrusting into her with a little more force. Right now, however, he's not doing that; he's maintaining a steady rhythm as he continues to kiss her.

It occurs to her that this isn't fucking. This isn't even lovemaking. This is his way of worshiping her, and that's why everything feels magnified—why it doesn't compare to their other times. Aleksander is a generous lover; he's experienced and adventurous. He's passionate and rough and domineering. But right now, he's being tender with her, showing his devotion with every movement of his hips.

She coaxes his lips to hers because otherwise, she might make the mistake of saying things out loud. How can she keep it to herself when he's acting like this? With his dark eyes gazing at her in adoration, with the compliments he keeps showering her in? She's only a girl, in love with the most incredible man she will ever know.

As he responds to the kiss, his thumb starts to graze her clit, and if her eyes weren't already moist from how loved she feels right now, she knows she would start to sob because of that. Alina is overstimulated, not because of the rocking of their bodies, but because of all the feelings she's experiencing as it happens.

Her orgasm comes and she sees stars. It's brutal and delicious, and it makes her cry and sob, so much so that Aleksander starts to kiss away the tears as delicately as he can while he still moves within her.

Aleksander has wrecked her completely. Her body, her heart, and her soul are completely wrecked because of him.

When he finishes inside her, Alina has to muffle a moan, biting his shoulder so that the palace doesn't hear her. Nothing will ever come close to that, to the way he fills her up with his seed. It won't result in a pregnancy, but the feeling is delicious nonetheless. To think that he's inside her, that when they separate it will leak and stain her thighs… Alina thinks it's fitting, it's meant to be. Who else is supposed to make her feel like this? Who else even could?

"Sasha…" she says while her fingers graze the back of his neck. She's not sure exactly what she means to tell him. She's still seeing stars from the orgasm. Aleksander, however, does know what to say to her in this all too intense moment.

"I'm all yours too, moya…." Aleksander murmurs against her shoulder when she's still reeling from her orgasm, basking in the afterglow and holding for dear life to his body. If she wasn't so busy with that, she might have realized Aleksander called her moya lyubov—something he has never done before.

2010

Her mother's death was not a surprise. It was the opposite; it was the end of a very long, arduous journey Alina hated to walk. She did it anyway, because her mother meant everything to her.

The ovarian cancer had consumed her from the inside out, and Keyen fought with everything she could. She was optimistic, and even as she lost her hair to chemo, her chin was up and her pride shone through everything. But even at nine, Alina knew her mother was fighting a war that she couldn't win. Still, she valued all the moments she got to have with her mother before she turned to ashes.

When Keyen left the mortal world, Alina silently cried. She was glad that her mother was no longer in pain.

Her funeral was a grand thing, and everyone who was considered important went to pay respects for the late Keyen Kir-Taban, daughter of the Empress Leyti Kir-Taban. Even her father was allowed to say goodbye to the mother of his child, to the woman he loved like certain things were meant to be loved—in secret, with only the moonlight as a witness.

Alina didn't appreciate the ceremony of it all. Although she was thankful that her dad was there for her, she just wished she could mourn her mother in silence, in peace. She didn't want to deal with everyone trying to offer condolences. She hated that she had to put on a face for everyone, as her grandmother made it clear there would be no tears on display during the day-long funeral and burial.

So Alina had to bite back her tears, her sadness, and play the role expected as the now heiress of the House Taban.

She didn't get to be Alina until it was late at night, when she had retired to her rooms. Her father was allowed to put her to bed, and they both spent some time reminiscing about Keyen, exchanging stories about the woman they had both lost. They laughed, and they cried, and Alina was left alone with a kiss on her forehead when her father went to his own rooms to rest.

That was where Aleksander found her—in her bed, clinging to her sheets with tears on her cheeks.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, defensive. She didn't know how he managed to get into her rooms. Even if she had known, she wouldn't have wanted him to see her like this.

They had seen each other in the three years that had passed since they first met. Their respective delegations met at a summit in Kerch two summers back and last December in Tsibeya—Keyen's last holiday season. Aleksander had tried to teach her how to ski and, in turn, she fractured her wrist. She still hadn't completely forgiven him for that.

However, that was not the reason she didn't want him there; she just wanted to be alone. Alina just wanted to cry in peace.

"I snuck to the kitchens, and they had snowflake cake. I brought some to share. I know it's not mooncakes, but..." he said in his perfect Shu. Her Ravkan was still clunky, and her accent was too thick, but he sounded amazing when he spoke. It made her only a bit jealous.

"I don't want you here," Alina said, but that didn't deter him. He made his way towards her bed and put the tray of snowflake cake next to her before he looked for a chair to sit on. The fact that he didn't climb into her bed made her feel slightly relieved.

"I wanted to spend time with you. If you really want to, I can go, but I think you need a friend."

Aleksander didn't have a dad—she knew that. He explained as much after she inquired, like any eight-year-old would, after seeing only him and his mother together many times. She thought he was like her at first, but then he explained his father died in a plane crash when he was a year old. Although his face revealed nothing, Alina immediately felt bad for prying. She felt even worse realizing that, even if her mother was dying, she still had time with her. Aleksander was robbed of that; one minute he had a father, and the next there was only his mother to watch him grow up.

And as far as she knew, Agrafena was not warm and loving like Alina's own mother. He had never told her anything, but Alina could see it. His mother was sharp and harsh. There was no kindness behind her eyes. There was also that damned cane of hers, which she loved using to hit everyone in her way—and more often than not, Aleksander tended to be at the end of the hits.

Maybe Alina should've hated him, because he had a mom and she didn't. She was barely nine, and she was asked to bury the person she loved the most, to say goodbye with only the hope of maybe reuniting in dreams. Meanwhile, Aleksander had a mother that was alive and well. But did Alina really hate him? No. Not with the knowledge that he was as lonely and motherless as she was.

"Thank you for bringing food," she ended up saying, and he smiled at her, finally sitting in the chair.

They ate in silence for a couple of minutes, and Alina was also thankful for that. Throughout the day, she had been swarmed with interactions and duties and stuff related to her mother, but she didn't have silence or a moment of peace. It felt like wherever she went or whatever she did, there was so much noise. Even one of the royal advisors noticed how miserable she looked and gave her something for her head. And yet, it was only when she was in her room that her head stopped pounding as she shared a moment with Aleksander.

"It helps if you hold on to the good days," he said, cleaning his hands after finishing his last bite of snowflake cake. "I do not remember my father, but I have held some stories other people told me about him close to my heart."

Alina nodded, and although she didn't want to keep crying, a few tears escaped her eyes before Aleksander gently wiped them away. She held onto his hand once he finished speaking, intertwining their fingers and making him smile.

"I really am sorry for your loss, Alina. Your mother was a great person. I liked her very much. I hope you can hold on to the good moments with her." His voice was soft and full of emotion. It made her feel sad to see him like this. It was hard to swallow the knowledge that sometimes having a living mother was not enough to be happy, to feel love and warmth. "You deserve that," he finished with a faint smile on his lips, one that she reciprocated.

"You deserve that too, Aleksander," she whispered, hoping she was not overstepping by telling him that.

"If you want, you can call me Sasha. It's shorter than my name, and something I reserve only for special people," he told her. Alina felt honored to be considered among those special people, especially because the first thing she had done when he entered her room was try and kick him out.

"Sasha… But I don't have a nickname for you to use!" she lamented, making him frown in response.

"For your name, there is Alinochka or Alya. You should know that, your name is a Ravkan one, after all," he explained, looking slightly annoyed as if it bothered him that she didn't know that.

"You can call me however you'd like. I don't mind," she told him, trying to get him to change his features. She didn't like how he looked as if he was angry. Alina prefered to see him smiling—he had a nice smile, after all.

"I'll call you solnishka, then," he said before explaining, "It means little sun or sunshine, and you are as close as I will ever be to the sun." Aleksander's words made her feel giddy, so much that she blushed furiously. No one had ever talked to her as if she was something grandiose in her own right. Everyone just saw her as a daughter of the House Taban, but as Aleksander told her she was the sun. She believed him.

"You're Sasha," she said, and he nodded in response.

"And you're solnishka," he said before sending a smile her way.

No one else would ever call them that, for those were the names they called each other in secret—just like certain things were meant to be loved.

seven hours left

Her stomach grumbles eventually, and Aleksander takes that as his cue to order them some breakfast to have in bed. Alina would like to argue that at three PM, whatever they eat is a late lunch and not necessarily breakfast, but he's set in his ways.

Besides, why would she complain when he orders a tray of mooncakes just for her? Damn him and his thorough knowledge of her likes and dislikes.

He ends up ordering a fucking feast, because he's not trying to shy away from the fact that he's not the only one who's going to eat. Although Alina thinks they definitely need to be more careful and less obvious, she doesn't have it in herself to mind. After all, she's still recovering from the mind-blowing orgasms from earlier.

"I ordered you syrniki and tea as well. I know you tuned out after you heard mooncakes," he explains, getting up from bed and looking for his boxers. She busies herself with his shirt, the one she'll most likely take with her back to Shu Han. There's an ever-growing part of her closet that's stuffed with things she's stolen from him, and although it's obvious, Aleksander doesn't seem to mind.

He smiles at her while they go to their bathroom to at least try and look presentable for breakfast. She brushes his hair and watches him as he takes care of his beard, completely mesmerized by the way he looks and how intimate it is that they get to share this moment. Sure, he was just inside her, but even if that was incredibly satisfying, this is also pleasing.

"See something you like?" he teases before kissing her cheek and grabbing her brush to return the favor with her hair. No one is as gentle with her hair as he is. No one is as meticulous and as caring with her.

"Yeah, I'm seeing something I like," she answers, looking at him in the mirror, smiling when he starts to kiss her neck, slowly, deliberately, as if he wanted to…

The food arrives before he can fuck her against the mirror, and Alina is not sure if she's exasperated about being interrupted or not. Either way, she hides in the bathroom as Aleksander grabs a robe and walks back to the bedroom, thanking the servant who brought the cart.

She comes out of the bathroom once she hears the servant leave the room. Aleksander turns to look at her and raises his eyebrows mischievously.

"I fail to see why you need to hide. Everyone knows you're here. Want me to ask your grandmother?" he asks, earning himself a swat on the bicep. Aleksander thinks he's being cheeky, but Alina is terrified at the mere thought of him actually going through with his scheme.

"It's called plausible deniability, Sasha, and you know it!" she argues, sitting on the bed. He hands her a cup of tea with a twist of lemon and a hint of honey, just like she likes it.

"I agree, my Alinochka. The only reason that is still on the table is because I gag you most of the time. Otherwise, you know…" Aleksander doesn't finish the sentence—instead, his eyes travel over her body, pointedly looking at her. Alina feels her cheeks redden as he gets rid of the robe and sits next to her, wasting no time in kissing her neck. "Everyone in the palace would know all the delicious sounds you make while I am inside you. Honestly? I wouldn't mind if they knew."

"Sasha…"

"Here, have a mooncake." He changes the subject by offering one of Botkin's delicacies. Aleksander is the first reason why she's always eager to visit Ravka, but Botkin's cuisine might as well be the second. She's sorry for her father, who comes in third place, but she was taught not to lie.

"I might steal Botkin from under your nose one day, you know?" she comments as he starts to eat his grenki. There are crumbs on his beard, and she gently wipes them away before he answers.

"Mmm, not even the Empress and already causing a political scandal, Alinochka? I might go to war to keep Botkin."

"But you're not the Tsar, are you?" She wiggles her eyebrows playfully before she finishes her mooncake.

"I am the Black Heretic, though," he points out while looking at her. Aleksander rarely mentions the nickname the press bestowed on him, so Alina doesn't really have a way to know how he feels about it. One thing she does know is that, to her, it's a bunch of cra—Aleksander is many things, but never a heretic and much less a black one. He's the light of her life.

"You're not the Black Heretic to me. I'll write an anonymous essay defending you. I'll submit it to The Ravkan Times and bully them into publishing it," she affirms, with all the strength that someone half-joking and half-serious can muster.

"You will, huh? And what pen name will you use? You know, so I can keep track with all my secret admirers," he follows along, finishing his tea and making himself another cup. It's absolutely insane the amount of honey he pours into it.

"How many admirers do you even have?" One, only one. That answer she already knows; and if she has doubts, he sends a pointed look her way that makes butterflies flutter in her stomach. "I will send it as Sol Koroleva, of course!" she says just as he comes back to the bed.

"That is fitting. My Sol Koroleva," he says, leaving the cup aside and caressing her cheek gently. Black Heretic, her ass. There's more love and gentleness in Aleksander's pinky finger than in the entirety of the rest of the world. She considers it a privilege to be at the center of his affections, and it's a privilege she holds dear.

"Sasha…" She needs to tell him. She must. Alina gets why they've never said it, why he's adamant that it's never said out loud, but he needs to know. "Sasha I…"

Aleksander kisses her gently before resting his forehead against hers, gently nuzzling their noses.

"I know, my Alinochka. I know…" he whispers.

In the end, she doesn't say anything. Aleksander is just trying to protect them, plausible deniability and all. He's just looking out for them so their hearts don't have to suffer more than necessary.

2016

"I said no!" Alina shouted, crossing her arms against her chest and behaving like a little kid. She didn't care.

"You don't trust me? Is that it?" Aleksander asked. She knew him well enough to know that he was teasing her, faking innocence and trying to get on her nerves. He knew damn well that she trusted him with her life. "Maxim is an excellent horse. He has never let me down, I can assure you."

"Yes, Sasha, we all know you're a horse girl! There's no need for the reminder," she said, casually. It was impossible to miss the way he scowled at her comment, but she tried to hide her giggles with another comment. "That doesn't mean I'm getting on top of that thing, much less by myself!"

The second his scowling features turned into a predatory grin, she audibly gulped.

"Alinochka, what ideas you have. You really thought I would let you ride Maxim alone?" His voice dropped a couple of octaves. It became deep and slightly rough, but the playful, teasing tone remained. She was pretty sure he knew what he was doing, because the next thing she knew they were on top of his horse, riding somewhere together.

She tried to focus on that, and not on the fact that he was sitting behind her. His chest kept her in place as his hands commanded the beast that practically flew through the grass. Alina tried to ignore the warm feeling that settled in her belly and the way her cheeks reddened at the thought of how close his body was to hers. Aleksander's body felt big and strong against her slender, still too thin figure. Despite her pathetic attempts to ignore everything, it felt incredible—there was no denying that.

Marie and Nadia, daughters of the Kerch and Zemeni ambassadors, respectively, talked endlessly about boys and girls. They were both a year older than Alina, but they seemed so knowledgeable about who was the best kisser in court. Marie said that Sturmhold, the son of the Fjerdan ambassador who happened to be very handsome, was also very experienced in the correct use of his tongue. Nadia said that Tamar, one of her lady companions, was the best kisser. When they asked Alina who she thought was the best, Alina didn't have an answer—she lied and pointed towards Aleksei, the son of her Ravkan tutor.

She was fifteen years old, and she hadn't kissed anyone before. Aleksei was just a good friend who had no problem covering for her. But as Aleksander helped her dismount Maxim once they reached an old fountain, she wondered what it would feel like to kiss him.

"I thought we were going somewhere better than this old, ugly fountain," Alina commented once she was standing on the ground, making Aleksander chuckle.

"Sorry to disappoint, your majesty. But this is the farthest place in court we are allowed to go without guards. I thought you might enjoy some mooncakes, so I asked the chefs to prepare some for us. But if this old, ugly fountain is not up to your standards…"

What a bastard! He knew mooncakes were her favorite, especially because in Shu Han she only had them during the Mid-Autumn Festival, whereas Aleksander could ask Botkin to make them all year round.

"Fine, I guess the fountain isn't that bad," she said, making Aleksander laugh once again. Something fluttered in her chest. He had an amazing laugh—yet another thing that made him so damn attractive.

"What a spoiled princess you have become, milaya. Has anyone told you that you're a bit of a brat?" he asked, grabbing a blanket from the horse and extending it on the grass before he settled everything down for them.

"No one would dare to speak to the heiress of the House Taban in that way," she said imperiously, sitting down with her chin up and an overall aura of superiority. He laughed, the third time since they got down from the horse. Alina tried not to let that go to her head.

"No one has seen you devour Botkin's mooncakes. I almost lost a finger last time, solnishka. Although, I have no qualms about being bitten." He winked at her, and Alina's cheeks reddened almost instantly. There was just no way of blaming that on the horse ride. Luckily, he didn't point that out.

She focused on eating so that she was busy using her mouth to eat instead of using it to embarrass herself in front of him. He didn't seem to mind; instead, he filled her in about how he was doing. They texted and called constantly, but still, there were things he didn't share over the phone. It's not like she minded—after all, she didn't tell him every single detail about her life at court, and she liked to hear the sound of his voice without a phone in between them.

His lips looked soft, she thought. She was pretty sure people didn't generally think of him as soft. For some reason, though, she thought of him and how he behaved with her whenever she thought of the adjective—how he treated her when they were alone, or with other people. They both had to play the game of politics and behave like royal advisors told them to, but Sasha was never fake or hypocritical. He was always friendly and nice to her.

That was not what she was thinking at that moment.

As he spoke, she looked at his lips and wondered how they would feel against her own, if they were in fact as soft as they looked. But then she looked at his face and wondered what it would be like to cup his jaw, or thread her hands through his hair. She wondered if that also felt as soft as it looked.

He was, in the words of Marie and Nadia, dreamy. Barely seventeen, and he already looked like he was going to break everyone's heart. Hers included.

"Alina…" he whispered, effectively waking her from her daze. As she looked at him, she realized Aleksander looked pained, as if there was something that was tormenting him. His eyes looked so dark, it was impossible to see his irises. Yet, somehow, all Alina wanted to do was get lost there.

It took her a second to register that he was not looking at her. He wasn't looking her in the eyes. It also took her a second to realize they were so fucking close, they were breathing the same air. If she really wanted to, she could've just leaned in, finally joining their lips. She could've easily found out if they were as soft as she thought them to be.

So she leaned, slowly, trying not to show her eagerness, because his lips were there… Until they were not.

Aleksander stood up so quickly it almost gave her whiplash. It immediately broke the atmosphere from before. If that wasn't enough, he walked towards the fountain, putting more than enough distance between both of them. All Alina could do was wonder if she had imagined the moment between the two of them.

If only Alina had stopped fretting about the whole ordeal, she would've realized that Aleksander's hands shook as he started to stress clean around the fountain, but she was too mortified to even notice.

"Did I tell you that I'm learning how to drive a motorcycle?" he asked, his voice so cool and so unaffected that Alina wanted to scream at him. How dare he?

She had to fake a cough, taking a second to try to regain her composure before engaging in normal conversation with him. "Why would you want to do that? Aren't motorcycles certified death on wheels?"

A tight-lipped smile bloomed on his lips as he listened to her. His eyes were full of endearment as he removed branches from the fountain and tossed them aside. "I went with Ivan and Fedyor to the Motorcycle Grand Prix. Realized the whole thing is incredible, decided to give it a try. Ivan is learning with me."

Alina rolled her eyes at the mention of Aleksander's closest confidante and friend—after her, of course. She had never understood their friendship. As far as she was concerned, Ivan might as well be related to the palace's statues. Her dislike of him was obvious to anyone, Aleksander included.

"I still don't understand why you seem to dislike him so much. Ivan is funny once you get to know him, you know," he commented, casually leaning at the edge of the fountain.

"I bet you find the statues of the palace funny as well, since you think a rock has a sense of humor," she answered sardonically, making Aleksander chuckle under his breath.

"I find you hilarious, milaya. So what does that say about my sense of humor?" he retorted, making her roll her eyes again. Sometimes when he used those pet names, she felt like she was five again. It made her feel like he thought of her as a little girl and not someone who was just two years his junior.

Still, the compliment made her heart jump. "You think I'm funny?"

He seemed content, albeit a bit amused by her silly question, but she didn't care. She thought the world of him, and the mere idea of him thinking nice things about her would definitely go to her head.

"No one makes me laugh like you, solnishka. I thought you knew that." She knew, at least subconsciously. She must've registered that he smiled the brightest when she was around, that he laughed and seemed more uninhibited when they saw each other. But to suspect was one thing, and to know was a different one. "That's why I like having you visit, and why I like calling you. I miss…"

He abruptly shut his mouth and shook his head. Alina was practically hanging on to his every word, but at the sudden change, she thought it was better not to press him. Instead, she just looked at him as he busied himself with cleaning the fountain, giving her the perfect opportunity to look at his body.

How come she'd never before noticed that he looked like that? She didn't have an answer to her own question. As her eyes traveled from the back of his head to his back, she thought… She thought he was so hot, and somehow she was only coming to realize that just now. He was so fucking hot it was ridiculous.

It shouldn't have mattered, because he was her friend. But suddenly, it was all she could think about. About his face, his eyes, his lips and stupid soft hair and a jaw that was unreal. There was more to consider as well, like his muscles. Alina would love to see his muscles. It had little to do with her artistic inclinations—although he would make an excellent model, there was no doubt of that—and more with the fact that something burned inside her at the mere thought of a shirtless Aleksander. Or a naked one, at that.

She bit her lower lip and berated herself for thinking such things. Sasha was her friend—her absolute best friend in the whole world. Alina shouldn't be looking at his legs. Her eyes shouldn't have paid attention to the way his arms moved as he continued to collect twig after twig. She definitely shouldn't have looked at his neck and thought how kissable it is. She shouldn't have daydreamed about kissing his chest at all.

Alina definitely, definitely didn't feel something between her legs when Aleksander stretched and his shirt rode up. She could see his lower abdomen and a small patch of hair that got lost inside his jeans, and it made her feel thirsty. Alina also didn't notice his crotch, because of course, she didn't.

She coughed, catching his attention before she tried to resume their conversation. "You also make me laugh like no one else, Sasha. I miss you all the time," she said, maybe revealing too much and making herself too vulnerable. But as she looked at the smile Aleksander gave her after hearing her words, she realized it was all worth it.

five and a half hours left

They shower together after their breakfast—"Lunch, Aleksander! If it's in the afternoon, it's lunch!". Alina wanted to use his big tub, where she loves to use the bath bombs and other assorted toiletries he got for her. However, Aleksander convinces her to shower because he wants to take her out of the palace; he knows if they use the tub, they won't get out until it's time for her to leave.

However, it doesn't deter him from taking her in the shower two more times. It might be quick by his standards, but Alina loves it all the same. She loves how her body seems to be made for him, how they seem to be two halves of a perfect whole. She loves how well he knows her body and how to give her pleasure.

But as much as she loves having sex with him, she also values the moments after sex, like how he takes her in his arms and uses a fluffy towel to help dry her off. The towel is monogrammed with his initials stitched in golden thread. There's nothing like seeing the great 'AM' on his knees as he dutifully dries her calves, her thighs, her pussy… Aleksander treats her with an unmatched reverence. She often thinks about what she did to deserve this treatment, because she's pretty sure not even Sanktas are worshiped like this, much less by the heir of the Ravkan throne.

She's certain that Sanktas also don't get to lie on Aleksander's bed completely naked while watching Aleksander dress. As a matter of fact, no one gets to do this, because no mortal is allowed to share his bed anymore. It's not even his bed, anymore; it's theirs. Alina has claimed it for herself.

"What are you smiling about?" he asks teasingly, looking at her over his shoulder as he zips up his jeans.

She bites her lip before answering. "I would like to draw you, sometime." They don't know when they'll be able to see each other next, but that doesn't matter; she knows he will remember. Aleksander always remembers whatever she says, whether it's the big things or the small details… There might as well be a part of his brain where royal decrees and strategy meetings don't have a reach, a part of his brain dedicated to just her.

"That would be my honor, Alinochka." The honesty in his voice makes her smile. She looks forward to whenever that is; she knows it's going to happen one day.

Aleksander is devastatingly handsome, especially after he puts on a shirt and the leather jacket she sent him for his twenty-first birthday. Suddenly, Alina doesn't want to leave. She wants to undress him again, she wants to wear that damned jacket and beg him to fuck her while wearing only that. As if he can read her thoughts, he gives her a once over, obviously enjoying the sight, before he leans in to kiss her sweetly. She wants more, but he bites her lip before separating.

"We are going out, Alinochka. Do not try to tempt me," he says before helping her sit up and putting a shirt over her head. "I know you are going to take my shirt, so I am willingly giving it to you."

"It's not fun if you give it to me," she pouts as she gets up from the bed to grab yesterday's clothes. She stuffs everything in her purse before they use the secret passages to get to her room so that she can get dressed before they go out. Her cheeky suggestion of not wearing any clothes during their outing was quickly shot down by Aleksander, so now she's forced to wear actual clothes. She still doesn't know where they're going, but that doesn't matter.

"You are a menace, I swear," he answers, crouching down so that she can get on his back. This was their preferred method to walk in the hidden passages, as the lighting sucked and Aleksander already knew the way. He rarely let her actually walk around in there, but Alina doesn't mind. She liked being like this with him.

It seemed like the only place they could be themselves was in the dark, in the secret places they found for themselves.

"Yes, but I'm your menace," she jokes in his ear as they enter the passages.

The first time he showed her those, Alina was fourteen. She was visiting because his grandfather was celebrating his Golden Jubilee—fifty years on the damned throne, and he still showed no interest in slowing down. Both she and Aleksander ended up bailing on the celebration and using the passages to get to his room so that they could play Mario Kart together.

Now that they were all grown up, they used them for other reasons. Alina would argue that having sex was far more fun than video games.

Alina could recognize that the passages were useful, but they still gave her the creeps. That was another reason why she loved being on Sasha's back. That way, she could snuggle and close her eyes, feeling safe and sound in his arms.

"It's okay, Alinochka, we're almost there," he whispers, craning his neck to kiss her on her temple. She smiles against his shoulder, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world until…

"What on earth is that?" she gasps, scrambling to get over his back while still holding onto her purse. Alina refuses to lose her Louboutins in these passages. They still scare her, but she needs to see…

"Alina…" he groans, coming closer to her as she makes her way towards the painting that captured her attention. At first, she thinks it might be an old painting of his grandfather's, made when he was young and new to the throne, but as she comes closer and takes in the details, she realizes it's actually Aleksander.

The most beautiful man she's ever seen, and the painting is, well…

"This is fucking awful. Did the artist hate you or something?" she asks, trying to bite down a laugh. She doesn't want to upset him—not right now, not on their last day together. Luckily, he doesn't seem upset; instead, he seems like he's enjoying her commentary.

"David was not going through his best phase. That is why it is here, hidden from everyone who wishes to mock the Tsar's grandson. Apparently, only solnishkas get to do that," he jokes, tickling her ribs and making her giggle. "He made it up to me, then did the one in the throne room a couple of months after this one."

Alina turns to look at him, kissing his jaw sweetly.

"This David has nothing on me, I'll have you know," she tells him. Aleksander hums in response, smiling as he takes her in his arms again before resuming his way.

"I know, Alinochka, I know. No one compares to you," he says, making her smile as she melts into his arms.

Alina has purposefully never shown him any of the drawings she has of him. Shame and embarrassment were the main reasons why her sketchbook always stayed in Shu Han when she visited. But there's no reason for that now, is it? She would like to draw him while looking at him, not having to rely on her memory or on the pictures she has of him. He already told him he would let her, so next time, next time…

"We're here." He interrupts her thoughts as they enter her room, and he leaves her on the bed. "Can I dress you?" he asks as he takes her clothes and shoes from her hands, dumping them in the suitcase she still has to finish packing.

As much as Aleksander loves to undress her, he also takes great pleasure in dressing her up. She absolutely loves it, so she nods and answers him with a big smile on her face. "Yes, please."

Aleksander takes his time picking her underwear and clothes, dumping the rest of the stuff in the suitcases to help her with a task she didn't want to finish. Because as much as she loves her country, nothing will ever come close to waking up wrapped around Aleksander's body.

Her thoughts don't linger on the bittersweet reminder of her upcoming travel. Instead, she focuses on Aleksander as he removes his shirt from her body and starts to slowly slide her underwear over her legs, using those black tights he liked so much to cover her. She hated when other people tried to dress her when she was a child. Only her mother was allowed to dress her without her making a scandal that resonated all over the palace. If only little Alina could see how she smiles now, how soft and pliant she is under Aleksander's touch as he puts her clothes on.

He dresses her in a white long-sleeved turtle-neck, just to finish it all with a checkered jumpsuit he has taken off of her a couple of times already. Aleksander even puts her favorite converse on her feet, as if she was Cinderella and he was her prince.

In many ways, he is her prince. Cinderella, however, not only got a happy ending, but two movies after the fact to sell that crap to children. In some ways, Alina almost wishes she and Sasha were in a fairytale together, however contrived it may be. Because they might get many things in their lives, but there is no happy ending where they end together.

She thinks about telling him that she loves him as he makes her gather all her hair so that he can put a diamond choker around her neck. It was a secret present he got her for her twentieth birthday. Every year he showers her with presents, lavish and ridiculously expensive.

He must know all she wants is his heart. She knows that might be the only thing he cannot give her.

2017

At sixteen, Alina was officially named her grandmother's successor. The ceremony was both bitter and sweet. It was also too long and too boring for Alina's tastes.

She wished there was no need for the ceremony. Alina longed for her mother often, although she hid it from everyone at court. She only confided in Aleksander, the one person in the world that could understand her.

If Keyen was alive, Alina would have had years to prepare and to learn to become a worthy successor. Sadly, her mother was taken from her side too soon. So soon, Alina sometimes had trouble remembering her.

The ceremony might've been necessary to officially crown her as future Empress of Shu Han. However, it was also a giant way of making everyone remember that this wasn't supposed to happen, that there was a missing link between Leyti and Alina.

In more ways than one, the ceremony was too much for Alina to bear. It was too long, too stuffy, too complicated. It was also too sad, making her heart hurt every step of the way. Her mother always said that the crown was a heavy burden, but Alina would've argued that a heart was even heavier.

She felt lucky that Aleksander was there for her. It made things more bearable to know that he was there in the audience with the rest of the Ravkan delegation.

The first thing she wanted to do once she was officially declared next in line to the throne was to hug him as if her life depended on it. But Alina was unable to do as her heart desired.

They were at court, after all, and she had to play the game of politics. Giving a courtly smile, accepting both fake and honest compliments, bowing to people, thanking them for coming to her ceremony. By the time she could talk to Aleksander, she was exhausted—and worse, they were still under the vigilant eye of her grandmother, so they had to act properly.

Still, Aleksander cheekily winked at her while kissing her hand and saying a bunch of crap about how he wished that the sun would never set on the House Taban. She knew that it wasn't that he didn't mean the words he was saying, but his voice was overly dramatic, used most likely in an attempt to make her smile.

He succeeded; he got her first honest smile of the day. The short exchange also gave her the energy she needed to deal with the rest of the people that were there to congratulate the newest sun of the Taban dynasty.

Much to her displeasure, she didn't get to see him until after the banquet in her honor. The party was in full swing when both of them decided to fuck everything else and meet back in her room.

"Do you feel different?" he asked, helping her as she sat at her vanity. Aleksander sat right behind her and started to remove the pins and hair clips from her hair. She might not have asked for it, but she welcomed the gesture nonetheless.

"Not really. I just feel extremely tired…" she explained as she slowly removed her makeup. She just wanted to be Alina; she didn't need all this crap. "I also missed my mom. I know it's been years, but… I just wish she was here with me." Alina sobbed, not able to control the tears that left her eyes without her permission. The truth was, she worked so hard at hiding how she felt about her mother that she tended to forget that hiding something didn't mean it was truly gone.

Aleksander didn't seem surprised by her sudden outburst. Instead, he just wrapped his arms around her, keeping her close against his chest as she cried and let it all out. His hands were warm and gentle against her back, and his lips were pressed softly against her hair, making her feel like she was in a protective cocoon she never wanted to leave.

"I am here, milaya. I am here," he soothed, holding her as she cried her heart out. What a sight she must've made, she thought as she trembled against his body. She was just named an heiress to a whole empire, and yet there she was, clinging to him for dear life as she covered his perfect outfit with tears and snot.

"I'm so sorry, Sasha," she apologized once she regained some calm. Aleksander still hugged her, refusing to let her go.

"Don't be sorry, solnishka. You never have to apologize to me, much less for showing how you really feel," he reassured her as his fingers caressed her face, keeping her hair away from the tears. "It is a privilege to comfort you, to lend you a shoulder for you to cry on. I think it's an honor that we allow ourselves to be honest with each other, my Alinochka. Are we not the best of friends?"

They were, her brain agreed, but her heart…

Her heart wasn't sure anymore. Every time they texted or talked lately, every time she saw his face appear in whatever screen she was using, her heart somersaulted. Her heart shouldn't have done that when she saw him, because he was just a friend—her absolute best friend in the world.

And yet, she was content to be there in his arms. All Alina wanted was to stay there forever with him by her side. Maybe even kiss him, like she did with Aleksei a couple of months ago. She knew he would be a better kisser—after all, Sasha was older. He could probably teach her.

But he just said they were friends, which meant there would be no kisses for them. Why would he want to kiss her, anyways? He could have had anyone he wanted. And he couldn't have Alina Kir-Taban, who was next in line to inherit the throne and reign all over Shu Han.

"Yes. We're the best of friends, Sasha," she echoed, doing a hell of a job concealing how sad that made her. Almost as sad as she felt about missing her mother.

"I think she would be proud of you. I know I am, zolotse. Please know that," he told her before pressing a kiss to her forehead, making her smile at the sweet gesture.

"Thank you, Sasha. That means a lot to me." Not only because he must've been the only one proud of her, but because she knew she could always count on him to lift her spirits. "Can we stay like this, for a second?"

"We can stay like this for as long as you like," he said softly against her hair, and she hummed in contentment.

What a commotion it would've caused, if they were to be found like this. But the party was still in full swing. Probably no one missed her, even though she was supposed to be the star of the night. But that was alright; as far as she was concerned, she might've not been their star, but she was Aleksander's sun. That was more than fine by her. Alina didn't need a bunch of hypocrites praising her. She just needed Aleksander with his hands in her hair, helping her as she went back to her real self.

He spent most of the night with her until she was dozing off on his shoulder. Only then he decided to leave, to leave her. Alina wanted to beg him to stay, but she was too confused. Her feelings about Aleksander made her feel lightheaded, so maybe it was better if he left.

It had been an exhausting day, and she had too many conflicting emotions for her own liking. So he left the room, and she didn't open her mouth to beg him to stay.

five hours left

Alina closes her suitcases and leaves her grandma and the royal advisors a note stating that she'll join them at the airport. She doesn't want them to panic or worry, but she also doesn't want them to wait for her. She turns off her phone and grabs a simple purse to keep the essentials before Aleksander is tugging on their joined hands so they can make a run for it. They could use the hidden passages to get away from the palace, but Aleksander assures her there's no fun in that, and she agrees with him.

His rebellious streak is quite a thing, she muses as they run in the halls, attracting more attention than they probably should when they're trying to escape. Aleksander has never done things the traditional way. So they run, and they make a fuss, laughing like their lives depend on it as they make their way to the garage where Aleksander keeps his motorcycle. She doesn't know the exact moment her brain and her heart decided this silly man was the one for her, but as he helps her with her helmet, she realizes there is nothing to complain about.

She can hear the distinctive sound of his Oprichniki coming closer towards them, but instead of hopping on the motorcycle, Aleksander kisses her, quick and furious, using his tongue to make her feel warm all over. And then, just when she wants more, he breaks the kiss and sits before making a run for it. As her arms wrap around his torso, she's able to see the dumbfounded looks of his guards once they realize they'll be unable to catch up with them.

Aleksander got his license as soon as he could. He can ride a horse, a bike, and a car. He can sail, and he's working on his pilot license, already promising to take her wherever in the world her heart desires. But her favorite, without a doubt, is whenever they get to ride on his motorcycle. She had been terribly scared the first time, hugging him too tightly and doing everything in her power to keep herself from trembling or screaming in his ear. However, when they left the city behind and made their way towards the meadows and fields, she realized she felt free. It was liberating, really, to feel the wind in her face, to see the beautiful scenery around her, to have Aleksander's body so close to her own.

Ever since, Alina has loved his motorcycle above all the other things. No other method of transportation will make her feel like she feels right now, like she's without a care in the world. As far as she's concerned, Aleksander and her are the only people that exist right now.

As they make their way around the city, he's constricted because of the red lights and speed limits. But slowly, as the city noises and chaos is left behind, he starts to go as fast as he can, not caring about anything other than this. This is her favorite part—when it's just the two of them on the road, and she can let loose. He knows very well how much she loves that, so he accelerates just enough, hitting the right speed so that Alina can open her arms and pretend at the freedom she wishes she could have.

When she was a kid, she often dreamed of being a bird. Not like the nightingales her grandmother kept as prisoners in court, but a golden pheasant, flying through the sky. She might not be a golden bird. She might not be able to open her wings and leave Shu Han whenever she pleases. She might not soar through the sky with Aleksander, despite how much she wishes to do so. But as she extends her wings and he laughs freely to the open road, Alina takes this moment and burns it into her memory.

"Hang on, solnishka!" he says, shouting to make himself heard over the noise. "There are curves ahead," Aleksander warns, and she goes back to hugging him, taking advantage as the speed descends to kiss his cheek sweetly.

"I'll never get tired of that," she tells him with a smile on her lips.

She'll never get tired of these moments they carve for themselves, of the adventures they embark on when they are together. Her life at court is too constricted, too calculated. Everything is laid out for her; all she needs to do is follow orders and never step away from the rules. Alina has never been able to be a regular person, though her mother would've probably argued that she was anything but regular in the first place. Aleksander would probably agree with that.

And yet, some days she wants to be as regular and average as possible. She just wants to be the master of her own life.

She'd enroll at the University of Ketterdam. Obviously, she would meet Aleksander there, and they would fall head over heels for each other. They'd, kiss, fuck, fight, love. They'd move in together. She would end up proposing to Sasha after getting tired of waiting for him to do it. They'd declare their love for each other in a big ceremony, or they would elope together, just the two of them. They could have kids, or maybe they'd decide not to, having cats and dogs instead. She would fall asleep each night in his arms until they ended up old and gray. They would be buried together, or maybe in graves next to each other. Maybe they wouldn't be buried at all, their ashes scattered into the universe with the promise that they will meet again, that they'll be together in the next life.

A rogue tear escapes from her eye and she wipes at it, enraged with herself. She doesn't make it a habit of daydreaming of lives she doesn't get to live, but it's getting harder to say goodbye every time they leave each other. She can't deny that her heart aches and breaks whenever they part. It's so undeniable how broken she is that even her nǎi nai hugged her and held her close the last time he left Shu Han.

She tries to focus on the road ahead, on how her heart beats faster every time he masterfully takes a curve, on how she's mesmerized by the clear skies ahead, on how her hands make their way under his shirt to caress the skin of his torso, on how he shivers at the contact, making her smile in delight.

They might not have much, she and Aleksander, but they have this moment. The present belongs to them and no one else.

2019

For days, Alina begged her grandmother to accompany her on her visit to Ravka. Once she was there, however, she absolutely regretted it. She usually had a good time in the Grand Palace, as she was well acquainted with everyone in court—sometimes even her father even got to visit and spend a couple of days with her there.

But as she saw Aleksander shamelessly flirt with Zoya in front of her, she regretted the decision of ever leaving her comfy bed in her rooms at the palace in Shu Han. Sure, she might've not been able to see her dad, but at least she wouldn't be forced to suffer through the stupid flirting that's happening right in front of her face.

She huffed and made her way towards a server, wanting to drink more champagne. After all, she was finally eighteen; she could drink all she wanted, and no one would say anything to her.

"I think you have had enough, Alina."

Give it to fucking Aleksander Morozov to actually be the one to try to police her drinking. And not only that, but to also have the audacity to say it in that damned voice of his that makes her knees go weak and her imagination go wild. She hated him, she hated him, she hated him.

"I can do whatever I want, Aleksander," she barked back, still keeping her voice low as she turned around to face him, which was… a big mistake, because he was fucking gorgeous. She was just a girl. She was sadly not immune to him or his charms.

"I know that very well, Alina. But if you want to..." he said, his teasing tone full on display. His eyes wandered around her face and her body before briefly stopping on her lips. Alina was sure the champagne was making her imagine things. "...I would like to dance with you if you'll have me," he finished before offering his hand to her.

They had danced together infinite times. She was pretty sure if she just did this, then she would be able to just hide in her room, leaving him free to keep flirting with every daughter of a dignitary present at the celebration.

She took his hand, and he escorted her to the dance floor. His hand gracefully held hers before his other one flew to her waist, forcing her body to come closer to his before they started dancing. Alina had thought the worst decision she made was begging to come to Ravka, but as they danced, she realized this was definitely worse. Being so close to him was just…

Intoxicating. That was the best adjective to describe Aleksander. He was completely intoxicating. All of him seemed to have been perfected in a lab to have rendered her useless.

He had always been handsome—there was no denying that. When they were kids, she had been mesmerized by his perfect hair and his beautiful eyes. She had often wondered what kind of sick joke was played on her because, despite their similar eye and hair color, he was able to make black look dignified. More often than not, Alina felt plain and unassuming next to him. He always looked regal and poised. It was impossible to look away.

But as he grew, his features became even more attractive. He went from a pretty kid to an attractive teen, which was so fucking unfair because he didn't have an awkward phase or anything. He was still dignified and handsome, much to Alina's dismay.

And then he became a man.

He was twenty years old, fresh from his military service and back to society, clearly ready to flirt with anyone willing. Alina was not stupid; she knew he was doing more than flirting, but she refused to hurt herself by thinking about the other things they did.

"Alina, are you alright?" His voice, velvety and commanding, immediately snapped her out of her thoughts. She raised her head, only to find he was already looking at her with such intensity that she had to look away.

The army had made him look rugged. It didn't tamper with that rebellious streak he was widely known for, but it made him tough, and it added another layer to his attractiveness. As if he needed one.

"I'm fine, Aleksander," she grumbled, knowing very well she was not fooling him. It didn't matter, because she didn't really know how to hide her jealousy and her eagerness to leave the goddamn ballroom. She was the heiress of the House Taban, so she couldn't just leave him alone in the middle of a dance and march out of there. She had a reputation to maintain.

"You don't seem fine. Is there something bothering you?" he asked, and she hated him. She hated him so much she could barely even describe it. Because she didn't hate him in the slightest.

She loved how his body felt against hers. His chest was hard and warm; it made her feel butterflies in her stomach. She loved how his long, graceful fingers were always so gentle with herm and how his touch had always made her feel like she was on cloud nine. Alina absolutely loved the smell of his cologne, how it suited him so well. She absolutely loved that now she couldn't think of pinewood, leather, mint, and whiskey without thinking about him. She also loved how they moved gracefully around the dance floor, because he was an excellent dancer and he guided her as if he was born to do so.

Alina loved. Alina hated. Alina was a mess.

"I'm fine, Aleksander. You don't need to worry."

When the music finished, she made a small curtsy before leaving the ballroom. It was only once she was out of sight in the hallways of the palace that she ran from Aleksander, from her feelings, from everything.

He ended up finding her—because of course, it would be silly of her to think that he wouldn't.

"Leave me alone!" she yelled, letting all her jealousy and anger out. There was no need for keeping up appearances here. "Go back to the dance and just leave me alone!"

"Alina, you are in my study," he pointed out, his voice revealing how unaffected he was by the situation. She didn't even have it in herself to be surprised by that. After all, she had always loved his study. It was one of her favorite places at the Grand Palace. It figured her feet would drag her there when she wanted to feel safe.

"So what? I can go wherever I please. You told me I was always welcome here," she retorted while turning around to face him, raising her chin and trying to project strength in her voice.

Aleksander chuckled lightly, but not in a mocking tone—he seemed genuinely amused by her. "Of course you're always welcome, Alina. I just want to know if you're really okay."

"I am! Just leave me alone. Go back to the ballroom and flirt with Zoya. Go and flirt with anyone, see if I care!" she passionately exclaimed, but Aleksander did none of those things. Instead, he smiled at her almost predatorily before starting to walk towards her, forcing her to back away until her heels reached his desk.

"On Monday, one of my Oprichniki made you laugh. It was a beautiful thing to hear your laughter after so much time of only listening through the phone. It made me so happy to hear it echo around the halls, to see you smile and light up every goddamn shadowed corner of my life. But then, I realized that you laughed because of someone else's joke," he recounted.

Alina remembered, of course. One of his guards… Malyen, Mal, if she was not mistaken, made a joke about traveling or something like that. Still, she wondered why the hell he was talking about that. "I couldn't bear such a thing. I am the one who makes you laugh, Alina. I am the only one that gets to hear that melodic laugh of yours. He shouldn't get to bask in your presence, much less make you laugh."

She shivered under his gaze. He was almost on top of her. His voice was laced with venom, but was it directed to her?

No, he was not like that with her. Aleksander had never been cruel nor mean, and he was being both right now. That was the moment when it hit her.

"What did you do? Sasha, what did you do to him?"

"Do not worry, solnishka. He is fine, nothing will happen to him. Just a relocation to Tsibeya, that way he might remember his place," Aleksander explained, one of his hands gently tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. As her eyes found him, all traces of anger had left her body, for how could she be mad at him when he did that? When he all but admitted his own jealousy?

Still, she wanted him to admit it. "Why?" Her voice came out like a whisper, but the corner of his mouth quirked up when he listened to her.

"Because I was jealous, my Alinochka. Is that what you want to hear? That I was driven mad by the thought of another man making you laugh? That I couldn't stand the thought of you laughing for another? I have no problems admitting to my jealousy—not when it comes to you, solnishka."

Oh.

Her breath got caught in her throat. She couldn't believe what she was listening to. How easily he revealed his true feelings about her, how casually he admitted to his own jealousy issues. She thought it was a one-sided thing, an unrequited love. Alina had never thought he would like her back, but now that he had been honest…

She made the decision to step closer towards him. Aleksander didn't back down; instead, he smiled at her. It was one of those little gestures she knew was honest. So, she smiled at him too, her right hand cupping his bearded jaw. It felt scratchy, but she didn't mind. She liked it, just like she liked everything about him.

Alina stood on her toes, eyes not leaving his face as she closed the gap between their bodies and joined their lips in a sweet kiss—a kiss that marked a before and after. There was once a girl who didn't know what it was like to kiss Aleksander, a girl that longed for and desperately dreamed of what was happening right now.

She let her fingers caress his face as Aleksander responded to the kiss instead of running away as she feared. He stayed and moved his lips against hers, wrapping his arms around her to keep her close, making Alina sigh in response.

She wondered if she was dreaming as they separated. She looked into his eyes, worried and nervous about the outcome of her behavior.

"You know, not many people surprise me, Alinochka. And yet you constantly manage to do that," he said against her lips. His breath was a perfect mix of alcohol and mint, and it made her smile almost instantly.

She didn't say anything. Instead, her eyes just remained glued to his face, flitting to his eyes and then to his lips. She didn't want to stop kissing him, and he seemed to think the same—this time, he was the one initiating the kiss. His hand darted to her cheek, and one of her own made way for his hair as she eagerly kissed him back. His expert tongue made way inside her mouth, and she didn't offer a bit of resistance.

Why would she resist something she had been wanting to do for years now?

His lips were so soft that she wanted to sigh. Aleksander was rugged, full of rough edges, and yet his lips were unimaginably soft. His hands, too. Although he was touching her in a way that would definitely be considered inappropriate, his hands were gentle on her body. His tongue, however, was passionate, showing how eager he was as he explored her mouth.

She had never been kissed like this, of that much she was sure.

He broke the kiss and started to move towards her neck, making her arch in response, giving him more access as she continued to try and touch as much of him as she could. When her hands slid under the shirt of his suit, however, he abruptly stopped.

"Are you sure, Alina? We can stop…" She knew they could. Alina knew that if she said the word, then this would be over and he would respect her decision. The thing was, Alina didn't want to stop—she wanted to go all the way.

"I'm sure, Sasha. I want you, please," she pleaded. Her voice was dripping with desire, eliciting a smile from him. Wordlessly, he took her in his arms before he walked towards his room. The smile that settled on her face showed how giddy she was, but she didn't care; she had been waiting for this for a long time.

He set her on the bed, and for a second they just looked at each other as if they were pausing to take this all in. This was, inevitably, the moment when their friendship blossomed into something else. Although he would forever remain her best friend, she knew that this moment was life-altering. However, that didn't make her regret grabbing him by the tie and slowly starting to undress him.

She was nervous, but Aleksander was gentle and didn't pressure her. Instead, he helped her until he was only wearing his underwear.

"Sasha…" she said while looking at his body. Alina had fantasized about this endlessly, but her dreams couldn't compare. As she put a hand on his bare chest and one on his cheek, she smiled at him. "You're beautiful, so beautiful."

He smiled back at her, leaning in to kiss her once again. He was just as passionate and all-consuming as before, making her shiver in response. She had never felt desired—she had rarely thought of herself as beautiful, especially in comparison to him—but he was making her feel like she was the only girl in the world.

"Can I undress you?" he asked once they broke the kiss, and although Alina was nervous, she nodded, biting her lower lip and looking at the floor. Aleksander, apparently, would not tolerate that. "Alina, we do not have to do anything if you aren't comfortable. If it's your body you have problems with, let me tell you I think you are gorgeous. Not because of today, but because I have always thought you were the most beautiful girl I ever met."

She furiously blushed at his words. No one had ever called her beautiful. Everyone thought she was small, unassuming. Even her grandmother thought the same, often looking down at her pale skin and hair. It shouldn't be a surprise Aleksander was the one that stood out, and yet it was.

Slowly turning around so that he could get the zipper on the back of the dress, she looked at him over her shoulder and nodded, giving him a shy smile he eager;y reciprocated. Aleksander came closer to her and kissed the back of her neck before working on the zipper. She took his hand as he helped her step away from the beautiful dress, leaving her in simple underwear.

Maybe she should've worn lingerie or something more risqué than panties and a strapless bra, but with the way Aleksander looked at her, she would've thought she was a lingerie model.

"What a sight you are, Alina," he whispered. His eyes were filled with adoration, and his face just confirmed his words. "You are so beautiful, so pretty, so—"

He didn't get to finish his sentence because she kissed him. It was an attempt to shut him up because once again she was blushing, but also because she wanted to kiss him again. Because she had quickly become obsessed with his lips.

As he responded, as their tongues met, he gently got her to sit down on the bed again. She knew what he was thinking because she might not have had sex yet, but she knew how this went, and she didn't want him…

"You don't have to go down on me," she blurted out, so embarrassed that she covered her face with her hands because she refused to look at his reaction. He didn't immediately respond, but she could hear him as he kneeled between her legs and settled his hands on her thighs.

"I want to. Alina, I want to go down on you," he responded with such conviction in his voice it made her take a peek at him from between her hands. "I want to kiss all your body, every single part of you. I might go insane if I do not. I want to give you pleasure. If you want to stop, we can stop. But this is not something I am doing out of thinking that I have to—I want to."

"I want you to as well. I just... I've been thinking about this for a long time, and I don't—" He gently pushed her hands away from her face and replaced them with his, touching her almost reverently.

"I have dreamt of you in my bed for a very long time, Alina. I want to be on my knees for you. I want you in my arms. I want to be inside you. I want to wake up and have you naked beside me. I want to bury my face in your pussy and make you scream with pleasure. If you let me, of course." Aleksander seemed so honest, looking at her as if she was some grandiose and important person. But there was something else she recognized, something too familiar: he was scared. He might have wanted this, but he was also terrified.

She smiled at him, leaning to kiss his lips chastely; "I want you too. I was terrified of you rejecting me. Zoya is prettier than me; I would understand…"

"No, Alina. No one is prettier than you. You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen. I need you to understand that."

Alina nodded and tried to ignore the warm feeling settling in her belly. His words were not mere compliments he was uttering to get her to sleep with him. She knew he meant them. She just needed to believe herself to be the person he saw in her.

"I haven't done this with anyone. I'm afraid I'll let you down."

"Alina, my Alinochka, my solnishka… As if you could ever let me down," he said, making her smile at him before leaning in to kiss him.

She learned that night that there was another facet of Aleksander. He was a gentle lover. He was true to his word and treated her with respect, listening to what she said, to what she liked and disliked. He paid attention to the way her body reacted to him. But there was another Aleksander, the one who was consumed by passion and fueled by desire. An Aleksander who worshiped her body, but also wanted to feast and consume her whole.

When he slid into her after making her see stars with the way he used his tongue and fingers, Alina felt like she was home, like she belonged there. His arms, she was convinced, were the place she belonged. Shu Han, Ahmrat Jen, the palace could all be damned—with Aleksander was the only place she ever wanted to be.

He said they were a perfect fit. If this was someone else, she would think it was just sweet talk, but Aleksander was absolutely right. They were a perfect fit, meant to be together. There was no one else; she wasn't interested, she didn't want them. She just wanted Aleksander.

When he opened his arms, letting her snuggle into his chest, Alina thought about never letting go, about really putting her heart in his hands, about telling him…

"Sasha, Sasha, I need to tell you something," she whispered, kissing his jaw before looking at him.

His eyes, his terribly dark, beautiful eyes looked down at her, making her shiver with all the longing and melancholy she found there.

"I know, my Alinochka. I know," he told her, kissing her forehead before hugging her more tightly against himself. "Some things are best left unsaid."

But even if they were left unsaid, she could feel his heartbeat speed faster as he spoke. There might've been no need for words, but the feelings were there. It was undeniable.

three and a half hours left

Eventually, they make their way back to the city, back to reality. She tries to prepare herself for the inevitable goodbye, but he surprises her and stops by a bridge—one of her favorite sights in Ravka.

"We still have time, solnishka," he tells her after he removes his helmet and helps her with hers. "I wanted you to leave with one of your favorite sights fresh in your mind."

Her favorite sight is him, but she just nods and intertwines their fingers as he guides her towards the best view of the river. They have been here many times, but somehow this feels different—probably because she can't cope with her feelings, cannot keep them bottled up anymore.

Probably because she knows that when she leaves, her heart will stay here, with him.

"Shivering, as usual, my Alinochka," he mocks before taking off his jacket and putting it over her shoulders. He hugs her from behind, resting his chin on her head—trying to keep her warm and safe.

But as beautiful as the view is, as enchanting as the skies changing colors can be, Alina is not paying attention to any of those. She's paying attention to his arms around her, to the steady beat of his heart, to his scent all over and around her.

This moment, as beautiful and imperfect and bittersweet as it might be, is theirs and theirs alone.

She turns around to face him. "Aleksander…" She knows there's a reason why they haven't said it. But Alina is tired of that shit. She loves him, and she knows there is no real future for them, but that is not going to stop her from saying it. He looks at her, and she smiles, cupping his face with all the reverence and care she's able to convey. "I love you, Sasha. I need you to know—I want you to know."

He smiles at her words. Alina sheds a tear, because although she accepts her fate, she just wishes she could have the one person who means everything to her.

"I love you too, Alina. Moya dusha, moya lyubov, moya zhizn. I have loved you for as long as I can remember, and I will love you when I am long gone. You must know that the reason I never said it was to spare you the pain—not because I did not have feelings for you. Because I have, for so long. Sometimes I feel like I am burning up inside, but then I realized I must not fight the fire. Because it is yours, it comes from you. I learned to accept it, just like I accepted that I do not belong to myself. I belong to you, and you only, Alina. You are the sun of my life, and the day you no longer want me is the day the sun will set forever. And I might as well become a Volcra that day. For who am I if not a humble man that wants to worship the sun?"

Sasha has always had a way with words, and right now Alina feels the burn of tears. How could she even try to tell him how she feels? She would come short; her words would sound pathetic next to his. So she doesn't try to tell him. Instead, she brings him closer so that she can kiss him. Her lack of words won't deter her from letting him know how she feels.

She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him sweetly, enjoying his soft lips against hers, basking in the feeling that this is theirs. The world might not allow them to be together, but they will defy the laws just for a single moment. His hand around her waist keeps her body close to his before she slowly parts his lips and makes her way inside his mouth.

A mouth that's sinful, that's sweet and gentle. A mouth that could make or break her world. A mouth that she can't help but worship. A mouth that, every time it's on her, makes her think she's being rebuilt into a different person, into someone capable of leaving everything behind just for him.

Aleksander is many things: calm, composed, always showing a great deal of restraint. But he's also passionate, an all or nothing kind of person, and when he lets go—usually around her—Alina knows that the fire he just talked about exists outside of him as well, for the flames are about to consume them both as he takes the lead and uses his tongue to taste her, to feast on her. To kiss her as if their lives depend on it.

They separate when the need for air becomes more pressing than their need to kiss one another. Aleksander rests his forehead against hers, using one of his fingers to trace the outline of her face. He's so reverent, so careful and gentle with her, and she knows there's no way anyone else will treat her like he does.

Because of that, Alina makes a decision and takes her ring from her finger. It's a simple one her mother gifted her when she was little, a simple black band with specks of gold. Alina has never taken it off, so it feels fitting to do it now, to give it to him.

"Alinochka…" Aleksander knows how important it is to her. The only thing more important than the ring is him, so she gives it to him. It fits on the ring finger of his left hand. The irony is not lost on them.

"I want you to have it," she whispers, kissing his hand before looking up at him. His eyes are full of unshed tears. "You'll keep it safe for me."

He nods, before taking off his knife ring—one of his favorite accessories, a beautiful work made by the royal jeweler to commemorate his tenth birthday. She tries to shake her head, because she knows how much he loves that dramatic thing, but Aleksander isn't deterred and instead decides to put it in her own ring finger. When she looks at him, there's a smile on his face, although his eyes remain full of tears.

"It fits you better than it fits me, my Alinochka. You should keep it. It will be a reminder to anyone that, while you are a beautiful flower, you have thorns."

It occurs to her that this might not be a legal marriage, but to her, there will never be anything that compares to this. They are married as far as she's concerned, damn the church and their obligations. She married him with her heart and soul as witnesses.

"I love you, Sasha," she whispers, hugging him.

"I love you too, my Alinochka," he says, hands caressing her head before he presses his lips against her hair.

Alina will fly back to Shu Han.

She will continue with her life.

She will do as is expected of her.

But she will go back after having exchanged vows, a new ring on her finger.

Her heart will remain in Ravka, with Aleksander—the only person in the world who will take care of it.

She will take his heart with her, with a promise that she won't let it break. Never.