Chapter 7: Within the Palace's Walls
Dear General Kirigan,
Dear General
Dear Kirigan
Dear Darkling
"Ugh!" Alina let her face drop on top of the paper, not caring if the ink got into her face, and groaned, loudly and at length. "Why?!" She asked into the nothingness of her room.
She had no reason to write to him. She knew he must've had frequent reports of the ongoings of the Little Palace, so she had no other excuse except to admit the truth, which was that she craved his attention, even if he was days away.
This was so pathetic of her; letting go of a life-long unrequited love just to fall into the arms of the first man who complimented her, even if she did feel a strange pull towards him.
What she needed was time for herself. Yes. She had finally said goodbye to Mal, falling for someone else so quickly would do her no good.
Oh, but Saints! The way in which he had kissed her, like he'd been waiting for centuries, like she was a treasure, like he truly wanted her. She had kissed people before, but never like that. She had enjoyed it, sure, but always stopped it before the clothes started to disappear. It usually bored people, but Alina didn't mind that much. It wasn't like when Genya was in the room while she bathed, helping her get to whenever she needed to be in time by pulling at the knots in her hair and handing her a towel. Genya was trustworthy, she was her friend and she had never given her one of those looks that had made her uncomfortable during her training at Poliznaya, nor made an unwanted comment or advance on her figure.
But The Darkling… That day, she had felt more than willing to let him have his way with her; nobody had set her body aflame the way The Darkling had done that afternoon a few weeks prior; she dreamt of it at night and woke up sweaty and hot, and it was a real effort to not daydream about it during her day.
General Imbecile Brute,
I write to you on this day to let you know of the first snow at the Little Palace. It makes quite the pretty paint...from the inside.
Also, I cannot stop thinking about you and your kiss, and I've been staring at the rose you gave me for such long amounts of time I fear my eyes will cross and I'll be stuck like that forever.
Please, tell me: do you feel the same? Mark 'yes' or 'no'.
Forever at your service,
Alina Starkov, Sun Summoner, Idiot.
Ps: You're not an imbecile, only a little rude; and you're not a brute, but some of your manners need polishing. Other than that, you're perfect.
Signed again,
Alina Starkov, she who lacks decency.
She looked at the letter, a low, prolonged, pitiful sound parting from her lips that turned into an animalistic groan. She grabbed the piece of paper, scrunched it into a small ball and threw it into her fireplace.
The snow covered the grounds of the Little Palace almost entirely, the lake would soon be completely frozen, and finalize the beautiful picture. Some Grisha were excited over the opportunity to skate. Alina had never done it, but Marie and Nadia promised to teach her.
From her horse, Alina moved uneasily. She still wasn't used to horse-riding, but Nina had invited her along with a few of her friends, who were all of different orders. It was a chance she wouldn't miss.
She tugged her kefta closer and held onto the reigns, advancing slowly along with the group, heading to the edges of the woods that surrounded the place.
A Fabrikator passed her a flask of kvas, and despite her dislike for the strong drink, Alina took it anyways and tried not to grimace as the liquid went down her throat.
If she were honest, she'd rather be inside the warm walls of her room in the Little Palace, chattering the afternoon away with Genya. She hadn't need to ask if the Tailor could join them at the stables; Alina was well aware of how little regard the other Grisha had for her -until they needed something-.
"I heard a few of you have been working on new keftas." she tried to make light conversation with the woman as she handed her her kvas back.
"Yes." she answered politely, "We're making a special fabric that should give us more freedom of movement during battle."
Alina rose her eyebrows. It wouldn't help her much if she didn't improve her fighting skills, but it was an interesting idea.
"How's it coming along?"
The woman tried to hide a grimace.
"It's complicated, but we're making some progress."
Alina smiled.
"Maybe you can tell me more about it during dinner." she suggested. "I, for once, would love a different type of trousers."
The woman smiled starkly, her blond hair getting on her face.
"They are rather stiff, aren't they?"
"I can barely flex my legs as it is."
The woman, whose name was Lada Alina remembered, agreed.
"I know. They're not suitable." she said in a strange tone, to which Alina gave her an odd, sideways look.
"Did you hear Zoya is back?" Fedyor interrupted, marching up to keep up with them.
Alina stared at him, groaned, and rolled her eyes.
"That's great." she said dryly.
Her absence was nice while it lasted.
"Maybe if I get under her skin and she attacks again, The General will send her off for a longer time. Or better yet, I could actually beat her."
Who was she kidding? Zoya was a formidable fighter, and Alina was just starting to win every now and then. Also, she suspected that Nina might have gone easy on her during their first sparring match a few weeks prior. She hadn't won against her ever since.
"Tell me about it." the woman in question said, rolling her eyes. "I don't understand her obsession with being on The General's inner circle."
"Says the one who is in the inner circle." Fedyor pointed out.
"Barely." Nina made a gesture with her hand, as if trying to rest importance to the matter. "Besides, it's not such a big deal. I don't know why everyone makes such a fuss about it."
"Well, the higher we are, the better we can protect other Grisha." Alina said, almost hesitantly. "I mean, if we have The General's ear, more ideas will flow about. I'm sure everyone has something to contribute to the cause."
"You don't need to worry about that, sun bean;" Nina smirked. "You're the Sun Summoner, it's likely he'll listen to you."
Alina's cheeks flushed as everyone in the group turned to stare at her.
"I think it's good to aim high;" Fedyor said, drifting the attention to himself, thanks the Saints. "As long as it's for the better of the Second Army."
Nina looked away and uttered something only Alina heard.
"Oh, yeah, betterment of forced servitude."
The Summoner stiffened on her saddle at the bitter words. Was Nina unhappy at the Little Palace? Why? She was one of the most powerful Grisha there; she lived in the most secured place in all Ravka, and her General held her in high regard.
A part of Alina wished she had never hidden her light. Maybe it would've been for the better to leave Keramzin, to leave Mal behind sooner.
It also made her think of someone who scarcely passed through her mind those days: her own mother.
She shook her head, ridding herself of such thoughts. She was thankful for the commodities and safe life she had at the Little Palace. Even if she was one of a kind, everyone else seemed to be adapting well to her, especially since she began to summon on her own and join in their little games by the lake.
She had been hesitant about it at first, but Genya insisted that going would be a great opportunity to both show her power and make allies.
"Besides, they won't believe you're a snob or a fraud if you show them a little." she had said, lazily lounging on a chair as they shared a nice tea one afternoon, while the queen took an especially long nap the very same day the Duke of Balakirev had arrived at court.
Lately, Alina felt more normal, and she was sure that her latest choices had a lot to do with it. From showcasing her powers, to sitting in different sections on different tables during meals and just talking normally about trivial things -even if those did exhaust her mind- and wearing an Etherealki kefta, she was more approachable, and the other Grisha seemed to slowly start to notice it too.
"It's not enough."
"We surely do deserve some more credit." she spoke, even if she didn't fully believe in the sentiment. The First Army was full of otkazat'sya, and they didn't have the advantages of bullet-proof clothing, private tents, furs for the winter and three decent meals per day.
It was all so difficult for Alina. She had once envied the advantages The Second Army possessed over The First, yet she couldn't deny there were other kinds of dangers for the Grisha, that not everything was perfect inside the walls of Os Alta.
Like the distrust of those who weren't like them, their fear, tamed only by their usefulness due only to the Black Heretic's greed.
All around her, her fellow Grisha nodded their agreements.
She wondered, briefly, what would Grisha life be like in Ravka if The Fold hadn't been created in the first place. What would happen if she ever managed to tear it down?
She didn't want to dwindle in those thoughts further.
With the Winter Fete approaching, everyone at the Little and Grand Palace seemed to buzz with all kinds of different energy. The servants were comprehensively nervous and stressed as they ran from one place to the other. Alina's fellow Grisha were either excited or indifferent, but none the less they all put the same amount of effort into practicing their yearly demonstration.
As for Alina herself, she had received the news that she was expected to showcase her power in front of the royal family and the other nobles of Ravka.
"The king wanted to throw a bigger party; invite diplomats from all continents and such, but General Kirigan insisted that it wasn't necessary yet." Genya said one afternoon, as Alina braided her hair.
She was seated very still, her eyes continuously darting from one side to the other as if trying to peek at her friend's work, concern etched on her face.
"He seems impatient." Alina commented, to which Genya huffed, accommodating her friend's new possessions on her vanity with a precision that seemed borderline obsessive.
"You have no idea. He can't wait to see the mighty Sun Summoner." she said, pouting and trying to imitate his deeper voice.
Alina frowned, said nothing, and continued braiding, her movements slowing but almost precise.
The Darkling
Miss Starkov,
Due to my sudden absence, I had no time to notify you that I shall oversee your training personally from now on.
Being far away, I do not wish for you to stall, so I leave you some instructions on what to practice and how, and a few reading recommendations fo-
He leaned back in his chair and sighed.
He was being a fool, and he hated it.
Writing to her with instructions on how to practice her summoning was a foolish idea. She was barely starting and needed overseeing, and the only one besides himself who could help her was his mother, who remained bitter at the woman. He really wanted to know what Alina had said to Baghra to make her so upset.
He almost smiled, feeling something wickedly, childishly happy in his chest at the possibilities.
Tossing the letter into the fire, he leaned back in his chair.
Teaching her through letters would only lead to disaster, but how else would he know about her? How else could he earn her trust while being so far away?
Pathetic.
"Moi Soverennyi." Ivan presented himself, bowing before further entering his tent. He offered him an envelope. "A letter from the Grand Palace."
The Darkling took it and quickly read it, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Although he had convinced the king that inviting foreign diplomats was not yet a good idea, the stupid man insisted that the Sun Summoner performed alongside the other Grisha. Alina was finally able to summon on her own, but he knew a part of her still feared her gift; putting on a show for an audience was not the best idea.
He…worried? for her?
"We will have to be back in time for the Winter Fete."
Ivan grunted. "I hate that thing."
The Darkling nodded in agreement. After all those centuries, he was more than bored of them. It was always the same waste of time and resources for his army, only to entertain the nobles for a few hours. As if they would not go back to turning their back on them the very next day.
Those fools often seemed to forget that his Grisha could have them for lunch if they so wanted it.
Privileged as The Second Army may seem, people were wary of them, even the nobles who lived in the surrounding areas.
"But they will not attempt anything so long as they need us."
"We have little choice, Ivan."
"We could always host it near The Fold and accidently push the royal family inside it." he said, sardonic as usual.
"Tempting." The Darkling smirked, setting the letter aside with little care.
The Heartrender stepped aside to allow him out, and The Darkling marched towards the river, where a few of his fabrikators were working on a new skiff. It wasn't nearly as grand as the one Alina had boarded that fateful day, but that was due to a different purpose.
There was a strange device being placed underneath it.
"Are you sure this will work?" he asked Petya.
The woman hesitated for the briefest moment, and The Darkling reminded himself internally to summon new graves for his Grisha.
"Such a pity." he thought, sincerely.
"Yes. So long as the Squaller sets a slow pace and nobody exerts themselves too much, they should be able to pass in relative tranquillity."
He had a feeling it would not work. His Grisha had already tried several times to cross through the river, but David Kostyk was sure his new invention would cancel out the soft sounds of the skiff against the water and dwindle the sounds of a heartbeat.
"Do not expect the path to be clear." he said.
"That is exactly why we're going, sir." a Squaller, Igor, approached and bowed. "If this works and we can clear the path, we should be able to make it to the other side eventually."
"Let us hope it does not take too many tries." he said.
Too many Grisha lives, he had wanted to say.
"David is rarely wrong, Moi Soverennyi." Petya said.
That was true. David was one of his best Grisha, which was why The Darkling tried to keep him inside the safety of the Little Palace's walls unless absolutely necessary.
Still, The Darkling though the plan stupid and a waste; but it was either that or forcing Alina into The Fold, and she was far from being ready to make a crossing, even through its thinnest point up north.
As a Squaller, a Heartrender, two Healers and two Inferni boarded the skiff, followed by a few strong otkazat'sya men from the First Army, The Darkling thought of David.
He thought of Alina.
And his thoughts returned to David.
With a sharp nod, he sent off the small team to do their last test and headed back to his tent, where he began to write a letter addressed to Mr. Kostyk.
Guest: She is indeed young, although I made her a little bit older in this fic. I think she's starting to feel sort of safe in the Little Palace.
Don't get too ahead of me guest, lol. For me, Alina deals with trauma by locking it away in a box, but I am glad you mentioned it in your review because it reminded me to keep on addressing another subject.
We'll see Alina's issues slowly emerge. There's already a hint or two in past chapters, but as we go on, I'll go into more detail, promise :)
Thank you for the review! Have a nice day :D