"What is it?" Kirigan's voice was still calm and cool, but Genya thought he heard a hint of annoyance in his tone.
A fine wrinkle appeared in the pale, smooth skin between his dark eyebrows.
Genya's cheeks burned; she could still feel him, like the touches of a ghost. She knew she was blushing even while Kirigan was a master at hiding what had just transpired; Genya knew it showed on her face. She tore her gaze from his handsome figure and turned towards the door as well.
A maid in the grey and white uniform of the servants of the Little Palace shifted her weight nervously from one foot to the other as Kirigan's gaze found her.
"It's about Miss Starkov."
Maria. There was no doubt that the high, nervous voice and bony build belonged to her.
Genya had felt that delicate, almost fragile body under her a few nights before, exploring it with her fingers and lips.
It was a little strange to see Maria now, going about her work, after coming close in such a way.
"Miss Safin, you can go to her, she's awake."
There had been no other encounters of this kind, and Genya wondered if Maria regretted their night together.
The golden emblem of Ravka on the snow-white blouse just above her heart moved as Maria smoothed her equally white apron tensely, avoiding Genya's gaze all the while.
Genya nodded silently, and Kirigan moved his hand as if to shoo away a fly.
"Thank you," he said, almost bored, "Now leave us."
Maria nodded, curtsied awkwardly, and left the room.
Maria had hardly disappeared from Genya's sight when Kirigan was with her again. She felt his warm breath against her ear now and another shiver ran up her spine. Failing to hide the slight quiver this time, Genya blushed and the Darkling laughed softly against her ear.
Gone was any thought of Maria and her body, the General took every bit of her thoughts, her body, for himself.
"Do you need more encouragement, Genya?" he asked softly, and she felt his fingertips on her neck; he stroked her hair back and followed the curved line of her throat, disappearing into the high collar of her Kefta.
She was silent, not knowing what to feel.
The thought of the task ahead of her made her nauseous, but at the same time, she felt flattered by so much attention.
Genya was aware that she was far from the only female soldier to receive that kind of attention from the General. But what did she care?
At least she could feel loved for a few hours without the influence of the alcohol that turned her and her lovers' heads at night.
"Genya?" The Darkling traced his finger the same way, up her neck to her chin, then forced her to look at him. "You know I count on you."
The Tailor swallowed dryly, under the spell of his dark eyes.
"Yes," she whispered, trying to ignore the dread of the days ahead. "I will not fail you," she added, half in the childish hope of being rewarded with a kiss. Every fibre of her body craved his touch.
"Good," the trace of a smile spread across the Darkling's face, and he tilted his head.
His lips brushed hers, and a soft sigh escaped Genya.
But he slowly pulled away before Genya even had the chance to deepen the kiss.
He only nodded briefly, bent over his card again, and Genya knew she was dismissed. She left the room without another word to her General.
Nothing would change his mind, and Genya knew better than to get in the way of his plan. As much as she loathed this task, she feared the consequences of not completing her mission perfectly.
No one cared what she sacrificed; no one knew that a part of herself died every time she was in the halls of the Great Palace.
Genya pushed her thoughts aside and came to a halt outside Alina's rooms. She had barely noticed the way, relying on habit. So, she put on a hollow smile and opened the door without knocking.
A few maids followed Genya flurriedly into the darkened room and pulled at the curtains, letting gloomy, cold light into the room.
"Good morning," Genya strained for the sweet, good-humoured sound of her voice that all who saw her pretty face wished for. She glanced at the mess of dark hair buried between the white sheets and knew she had her work cut out. The sunlight was still too pale, and Genya clapped her hands.
"Light the candles. I need some light. Run a bath and then bring me my kit. The big one," she instructed the maids who had come with her to the Sun Summoner's room.
Alina grumbled something noncommittal, and Genya rolled her eyes, "Rise and shine, Alina. If I'm to work another miracle or two before we go to the Great Palace for the festivities, we'll need every minute."
Alina sat up slowly and rubbed her tired eyes, running a hand through her tousled pale brown hair.
Now that she was finally using her powers and was training them, Alina's complexion had taken on a healthier tone; she ate more and looked less like a neglected orphan stuck in a too-big First Army uniform. She was no beauty, but the light she carried was beginning to influence her appearance, and she did not seem as sickly or ugly as when she had arrived at the palace.
"We?" asked Alina vaguely, looking wearily at Genya, "You're coming to the Winter Feast?"
"I've been asked to accompany you," the Tailor pushed the rising nausea aside and smirked, "apparently they're afraid you'll ruin my work just within a few hours."
With incredible energy, Alina jumped out of bed and rushed to Genya barefoot, wearing only her light nightgown.
"This is great," she cheered, enclosing the bewildered Tailor in a tight hug, "Now we can spend the evening together!"
Genya let the hug wash over her, perplexed, and patted Alina's back with pointed fingers.
"Yes, yes," she wrinkled her nose slightly and gently pushed the Sun Summoner away, "take your bath already and let go of me before you ruin my hair."
Alina laughed, let go of Genya again and disappeared into the bathroom. Water splashed moments later, and Genya heard Alina's cheerful voice among the soft, restrained ones of the maids. Little did she know that Genya could hardly be with her all the time but had been sent to the Great Palace and the festivities for another mission.
While Alina took her bath, Genya lingered at her dressing table, looking through the kit brought to her. Thoughtfully, she searched through her ingredients, looking for something she could use to give Alina the entrance she deserved.
"Aren't you looking forward to the feast at all?" Alina's voice snapped Genya out of her thoughts. She looked up, and Alina came out of the bathroom with damp hair, wrapped in her bathrobe.
"Of course I am," Genya replied and quickly put on a smile; even to her own ears, her words sounded unconvincing.
"You look like you haven't had a reason to be happy in years," Alina replied with raised eyebrows, taking a seat on the stool in front of Genya.
The Tailor just shook her head and gently ran her fingers through Alina's hair, which began to shine silkily under her touch.
"Hush now, I have a miracle to perform," Genya murmured, already engrossed in her work.
"My Kefta hasn't come yet," Alina stated after a while, just as an adorably soft blush appeared on her cheeks.
Genya frowned in annoyance and stroked Alina's cheek to correct her mistake with her fingertip.
"Don't move", she scolded the Sun Summoner, "or would you like to continue looking like a troll?"
"Continue? You are exceptionally charming, Genya," Alina couldn't help laughing, and Genya let go of her with a sigh.
"You are insufferable," she informed the Sun Summoner, then pointed to a tied-up package on the small table beside the door. "This is your Kefta. It was brought while you were in the bathroom."
"Oh," Alina jumped up and went to take the package, but Genya held her back by the shoulder.
"Stay here," she instructed her, gently pushing Alina back onto the stool, "I'm not done yet."
Her movement had caused Alina's dressing gown to slip off her slender shoulder. Genya raised her eyebrows and spotted a hickey just below Alina's collarbone.
The Sun Summoner turned bright red and hastily pulled the fabric back over her shoulder. "Not a word, Genya."
"Who do you have to thank for that?" asked Genya in surprise, struggling to hide her curiosity and simply skipping over Alina's words.
Alina averted her eyes and seemed to stifle a grin. "You don't know him," she replied evasively, and Genya rolled her eyes.
"Please, I know everyone here," she objected, "come on, I'll fix this for you."
"No," Alina's reply came out of the blue, and she corrected herself, "no, thank you, Genya." The Sun Summoner crossed her arms in front of her chest, her head flushed, and Genya laughed softly as she put the finishing touches on Alina's appearance.
"Well, he must be something special," she commented before packing up her tools and ingredients, not seeing how Alina looked at her through the mirror.
The Sun Summoner rose and went to the door to finally put on the Kefta she was to wear today. Genya knew Alina already had several meetings planned throughout the day, mainly to meet Ravka's important people, some of whom had resided in the Great Palace for days already.
"What will you wear?" Alina asked, untying the string from the Kefta wrapped in delicate paper as she walked.
Genya shrugged. She hadn't expected to be present, so she hadn't given a thought to what she should wear. Now she would have to improvise. "We'll see," she only said, "I'm sure there's something in my wardrobe to steal your thunder."
Genya had found that the best way to distract from a subject was to strike a humorous tone. She didn't want to worry about what to wear tonight, not with what she was facing.
Alina laughed, "You're stealing everyone's thunder Genya." She placed the package on her bed and carefully removed the paper; the picture girl smiled in flattery. Beauty was far from her only quality; however, it was the only one that other Grisha and humans noticed in her. So Genya smiled and tried desperately to find something good in her own beauty.
Alina drew in a sharp breath and carefully held the Kefta up.
"Well, look at that," Genya breathed as she caught a glimpse of the Kefta.
It was black. Black, with subtle but exceedingly elegant golden embroidery on the cuffs, the hems, and the collar.
"What... what does that mean?" Alina asked, half confused, half paralysed with astonishment.
"It means the Darkling claims you for his Order," Genya answered slowly, with each word the meaning of it dawning on her. She swallowed.
"Alina, this is the greatest honour that could have been bestowed upon you."
The Sun Summoner fell silent, carefully feeling the embroidery, a hundred tiny suns whose rays stood out golden on the night-black fabric.
"Do you think there will be more Sun Summoners?" Alina asked quietly, and Genya tore her gaze away from the Kefta to look at Alina.
She looked almost a little worried.
"You exist. That is proof that your power is not a myth," Genya tried to ease her worries, "for every order, someone must be the first. For the Sun Summoners, that's you, Alina."
"And you?" Alina asked abruptly, "who is the first in your Order?"
"That's different," Genya turned away and stroked the white fabric of her Kefta, "I'm just a mix of Korporalki and Materialki; there's no separate Order for me."
Alina laid the Kefta on the bed, looked at it, then turned her head in Genya's direction. "Maybe you'll have to be first then, Genya."
