Because I am weak for stories of Alina getting pregnant and bolting afraid of Aleksander's response. But eventually she comes back, and everyone has to deal with being a big immortal and sometimes happy family.

For context, this follows canon to a degree. Essentially the book events happen but Alina eventually discovers that her powers and immortality did not actually leave her and Aleksander (Rule of Wolves Spoiler!) gets free of that tree. For reasons. My story is not about those reasons.

Brief mention of sexy games where one participant "pretends" to not want it (but they do. its consensual).


A little girl, 5 years old with smudges of chocolate on her cheeks, runs around the throne room of the palace as if she owns the place.

But he's first in line to it, and yet watching the little sprite giggle and dance without a care in the world surrounded by walls of gold and glamour, he feels like a peasant. A equally foolish thought as neither of them will ever probably sit on that throne.

Guilt instantly floods Adrik at where his thoughts wandered. He loves his little sister, he truly does, but sometimes he can't help but feel…inadequate, in comparison.

Especially when their father gazes at her with such utter adoration on his usually stoic face.

Aleksander (the Darkling Adrik muses when his thoughts are as particularly sour as they are now) is lounging on his throne in a rare show of casualness. His back is slumped, legs out stretched and crossed at the ankles, and his head perched atop a closed fist. And he's smiling. The damn bastard is smiling.

It is hard to not smile at Mila, Adrik can't fault his father that. But that the older man does it so openly and constantly is what has him on edge. Because Adrik knows, oh how he knows, his father has never once looked at him like that.

"You're making the room dark," a soft knowing voice says behind him.

On cue, Adrik's shoulders slump and the shadows he hadn't realized creeping up the walls vanish to nothing. He flushes slightly at the lapse of control as his mother affectionately bumps his shoulder. Well, at least tries to. One of the many gifts he inherited from his father was his height, so Alina manages to really just touch a little above his elbow.

"One of those days?" She asks all knowingly. He notices her lips curve into a smile as she gazes upon Mila who suddenly collapses onto Aleksander's knees to animatedly tell him some story. He instantly picks her up to bring her onto his lap, where she continues to babble on and on.

Adrik shuffles on his feet, not really wanting to get into this conversation. He's had it enough times with his mother to know it never leaves him feeling any better.

"Adrik…"

"Please," He instantly cuts off, and looks at her imploring. The share the same brown eyes, one of the very few things Alina had passed onto him, and perhaps one of the top things Aleksander can't stand about him. For her knows his father loves his mother more than anything in this world (Mila probably being a very close second), so to look upon Adrik and see the same eyes of the woman he loves, well, Aleksander has gotten very creative finding other places to point his gaze.

"It's complicated."

"I've heard the story, thank you."

"But you just have to understand-"

"Mom," Adrik sighs with exasperation, already backing up toward the grand doors. They had been left open but an impatient Mila (quite desperate to see her father and tell him about her day), so it had been easy for Adrik to had slid in and silently observe them after his own lessons. Though he is sure his father, master of shadows, was well aware who else occupied the room with them. While Aleksander didn't give his son much affection, he didn't care if he watched him bestow it on another. "I have to go."

He didn't. All that waited him was his empty and messy room, piles of books he was constantly devouring, and the daily decision whether to join the rest of his family for dinner later tonight.

Alina's eyes, his eyes, shined with a recognizable sadness Adrik couldn't bear to face. Because it wasn't his fault he and his father had this relationship. It wasn't. It was Aleksander's, the Darkling's, so if she wanted to guilt anyone then she best turn her gaze to behind her.

Alina continued to frown as her son disappeared from the throne room, and even as she turned to face the rest of her family. Mila had yet to notice her but the moment Adrik disappeared, Aleksander's gaze instantly cut to her. Alina let him see the pain on her face, the consequences of the pained relationship he continued to foster between him and their son.

And as usual, Aleksander only responded to her with his cruel combination of indifference and resentment.

This is the story of the Darkling and Sun Summoner. Or at least, as history knows it, the first Darkling and Sun Summoner, and now the current Darkling and Sun Summoner.


Long ago, very, very long ago, the Darkling was a villain who wanted to hurt the world with the now gone Fold. The Sun Summoner was a heroine, rising up from seemingly nowhere and banishing both the wicked Fold and even more wicked Darkling.

But she gave her life to do it, and so these two powerful figures became nothing but names in history books. Well, one became a Saint, and eventually so did the other, but those are stories that some believe and others do not. And like all religious figures, people began to forget they were real people once too, and those saints became just names in prayers and scripture.

So, years pass.

Then Ravka, which had enjoyed such a time of peace and prosperity, was once again challenged by their neighbors. Countries who had once been their allies, now greedy again with want of power and land.

It starts in the South, with villages and towns burned to the ground and the people murdered with no prisoners taken. The North get shit a week later, with even more viciousness. Ravka is taken by surprise of these attacks, scrambles to protect both their borders, and it leaves them had it done once so long ago, weak and vulnerable.

But then in the South, after two months of this miserable fighting, an army is attacked with a light so blinding, the enemy soldiers fall to their knees screaming from their loss of sight. Their eyes were burnt to crisps, blood pouring down their cheeks.

The next day, in the North, an enemy army is swallowed whole by a cloud of darkness. No one knows what happened to them, but their screams of agony were enough to have no one venture to find out.

So, the light from the South and the darkness from the North began to fix the gaps the Ravkan army could not handle, till eventually, they met in the middle.

And the world learned a new Sun Summoner and Darkling had been born.

They win the wars for Ravka, and then they are rewarded with the thrones of Ravka. And once again, Ravka knows peace.


"I don't wish to speak about it," Aleksander says to his reflection in the mirror. But he is actually addressing Alina, now sitting on their bed and lounging on their obscene amount of pillows. At Alina's request, of course, as Aleksander could do with just the one.

"This can't go on forever," She shoots right back.

"Actually," Now he turns, and shoots her a look he knows will grate her nerves. "It could go on forever."

Because they were immortal, as was their children. The four of them, forever and ever.

"Aleksander," Alina growls, in fact a bit more angry then he expected. "Maybe you misunderstood. I can't have this go on forever."

Aleksander bites back his own anger, knowing going head to head to his wife would lead nowhere good. "You're as much to blame for this as I am."

"Pompous ass!" She spits and darts up from her position on the pillows. She even grabs one to throw at his head. Aleksander casually dodges it with a tired sigh. "Everything I did, I did because of you! I was scared for Adrik's life!"

"So you acted rashly, as usual, and followed the first immature thought that popped into your head!"

Instead of a pillow, a ball of light now shoots at his head. It takes a bit more maneuvering to dodge this, but after years living with his wife, Aleksander manages it.

"You saw him as threat," Alina continues, scrambling off the bed to get on her feet. "A threat to your empire. A threat to us."

Aleksander meets her in the middle of their bedroom, now not giving a damn if his anger spools out in vicious dark shadows swallowing the room. "It was meant to be you and me. Just you and me. And you went and had a child. You had no idea what could have happened, what he could have become-"

A sardonic laugh bit past her bared teeth. "As if I made a child by myself!"

Aleksander scoffs and moves past her, roughly untying his robe to get ready for bed. As if a peaceful sleep was even in the cards tonight.

"How can you act this way? Say these things when we have Mila? When you love Mila!"

"Don't," Aleksander warns, the room now nearly drenched in complete darkness. "Don't bring her into this."

"She's just as much in this as Adrik is!" And with Alina's scream comes her burst of light, banishing all of his shadows.

The room is now back to its natural hue, though the two Summoners within it are anything but back to normal.

"I kept him from you, yes. But not out of spite or whatever malicious thought you had in your head," Alina begins, a poor attempt at calm with her teeth are still bared and her chest ispounding up and down. "It was because I was afraid. I wanted you both, and I didn't know how to do it. So, I ran, and I stayed away, until I was sure that you understood how much he means to me."

Aleksander deflates slightly at her words, but only slightly.

"And Sasha, you just don't seem to realize. Without Adrik, you would have never known you could love Mila. Without Adrik, we wouldn't have this family right now." Alina takes a small step towards him, raising her hands. "Please, stop punishing him for something I did. Stop punishing him for shattering the image you've had in your head for centuries. Please."

Oh, his wife, ever the proponent for peace. But how could he ever deny her anything? After all that laid between them, the years of pain and hate, they were now here. Together, married, and against all odds in love. Against all odds, with children. Aleksander was always aware that Adrik's biggest sin towards him was being the first. The first to ever truly come between him and his Sun Summoner. The tracker has been the biggest nuisance, even the prince, and then the rest of their band of traitor Grishas. But they had never been true threats, not when he knew they would fall victim to time just as the rest of the world would. Just never him and Alina. Never them. But then came Adrik. And now Mila.

He supposes Alina is right, in a way (he would never concede she was ever wholly correct lest it go to her ego). Without Adrik, he wouldn't have been so open to the idea Mila. Like her brother before her, she hadn't been planned. But seeing how Adrik proved to be more of irritation than an actual threat (again, something he would never admit, and only recognized after Adrik's second year living in the palace. He had been 17 then), Aleksander allowed himself to be curious over the prospect of another child.

And Mila had been something to behold. She still is.

And, apparently, Alina will no longer live in this delusion that Adrik didn't pave the way to this new love Aleksander never fathomed he'd ever have.

Reaching forward, Aleksander takes his wife's outstretched hands and brings her body against his own. Always so small in his arms, always so perfect. Meant to be. He supposes her suffering has gone on long enough. And how long before Mila's innocence would wear off and she'd notice the bitterness between her father and brother?

It's not as if he truly hates Adrik. No, only few people have had that curse upon them. Resentment, most of the time, and indifference when he was feeling indulgent. He's noticed the boy's worth and the similarities between he and his parents (They are both now the only shadow masters in the world).

"Fine," He says into the crown of Alina's head. He places a soft kiss there, and feels the small blessing in his arm exhale with relief. "Fine."


Adrink senses his father's presence instantly, only a couple feet away at behind him.

He's not sure if it's because they're related, or both shadow summoners, or because of the Morozova blood and magic flowing within them. He's content to hate all three equally.

But it is unusual for the Darkling to grace his presence in Adrik's class. Other Grisha classes, sure, it's almost the norm he will appear at least once every two weeks. But Adrik's students had to suffer because of who their teacher was, and Adrik was never rver sure if they resented him for that.

There is another 15 minutes left of class but when the Darkling makes it apparent he's not leaving, Adrik can't bear to be under his watch anymore. He's used to being ignored, not the attention of his focus, and he feels he is wholly uncomfortable with this new sensation.

"Okay, that's it for today," Adrik announces tersely, clipping the book in his hands shut. They're in the gardens today, something he likes to take advantage for class whenever the weather is nice. He teaches history, much to his mother's delight. He never knew what Aleksander made of it as he never gave his opinion. Only a nod of the head that he acknowledged his choice in career. Adirk had always found the subject interesting seeing how his view on history had changed his whole life.

Normal farm boy to the son of a Sun Summoner, then to the actual original Sun Summoner turned Saint, which meant also being the child of the Dark Heretic. Now the present rulers of Ravka. It's a lot.

"Read Chapter 5 for homework and write 5 political reasons Frejda targeted Ravka. And non Grisha related reasons, please."

The class groans at that but quickly gather their things and scatter, happy for the early dismissal.

Adrik unnecessarily gathers his books and bag at a slow pace, still feeling the eyes of his father piercing his back the whole while. Of course he wouldn't approach him first. No, Adrik would have to be the one to engage in this odd occurrence.

"Did you need something?" Adrik asks, swiftly turning around. He tenses as if preparing for a fight, and lets him aim stick to the dark boots Aleksander is wearing.

It's a moment before the Darkling answers, and when he does it's with the usual smooth unconcerned tone he takes with everyone else. "Not particularly."

Adrik jerks his head in a nod. "Alright then, I have to go meet-"

"Walk with me."

It's not a request.

So Adrik follows after his father, feeling foolishly like a petulant child.

They go deeper into the gardens, devoid of any other humans. There are only flowers and insects to occupy the silence stretching between father and son, one that becomes louder and louder the more far away they get from the Little Palace.

Adrik hasn't been afraid of violence from his father in a long time. Not since Alina told him the truth of who they were. Not since she gave him the reason that for the first 15 years of his life why they had to stay away from their true home and the man that created him.

But now, alone and so far away from everything else, Adrik feels the ghost of that fear whisper up his spine.

"Why non Grisha related?"

Adrik snaps out of his reverie and sees his father has stopped a few feet away from a stream. The older man claps his hands behind his back and stares out at the scenery, waiting for an answer.

"I-what?"

"The assignment you gave the class. You said non Grisha related reasons."

"Well, because, there was more to it than that-"

"Yes, but even those reasons were born from the hatred they have of our kind."

"Not all of Ravka is Grisha. They weren't targeting a group of people but a whole country-" Adrik stops himself short. What is going on right now? He's arguing history-with his father? Had this morning really been nothing but a dream he has yet to wake from?

Aleksander glances at him, clearly expecting him to finish his thought.

"What is this?" Adrik asks instead, feeling even more on edge.

"What is what?"

Alina often complained of her husband's conversational tactics. Hedging, beating around the bush, double meanings, and making you reveal more of your thoughts than his own. "This," Adrik growls. He is not in the mood for such games. "This walk and conversation. What is it you want?"

Aleksander again slips his gaze forward, and lets out what might be considered a sigh. "I am merely asking about your teaching methods-"

"You have never cared about them before," Adrik interrupts. "Never cared about anything in regards to me before."

"I know enough." A careful decision to use the word "know" instead of "care".

Adrik scoffs, ignoring anything that sentence might mean.

"You enjoy the gardens," Aleksander continues unperturbed. "Not just for class, but whenever you have free time and the weather is amiable enough. You enjoy an unusual amount of vegetables with your meals, which I'm sure your mother was ecstatic about growing up. Your colleagues respect you but haven't broached having more familiar relationships. And you have never said no to anything your mother and sister have ever asked of you."

The silence between them shifts furiously quick into something much heavier than before. It's not making Adrik's muscles tense but his lungs burn, as if a wave of sudden and unexpected confusion is filling him up and making him drown into such deep depths he didn't even know existed. Because his father knows things about them. Rattles them off with ease as if he is listing his duties for the day.

They've been living in the same space for years now, of course Aleksander must have known things about him. That's it. Simple observation, nothing more or less. It couldn't be anything more. He's sure his mother had maybe even forced the information into his head.

Aleksander turns to him fully, not a father regarding a son, but a King regarding a subject. Or perhaps Adrik doesn't know enough to tell the difference. "You hold back with your summoning. You're not anywhere near what you're capable of."

Now that offense cuts through Adrik's maddening confusion. "Excuse me?"

"I would know, obviously." The smug bastard smirks and waves at the air as if swatting a bug, but really his is just conjuring a fleeting shadow.

Yes, they both share the gift for shadows while Mila followed in Alina's footsteps with light. Another thing Adrik feels all too guilty about being resentful towards his little sister. Once, a long time ago, he thought that because he and Aleksander shared this gift it would soften the older man towards him. That hope had been dashed within a day.

"I'm perfectly fine summoning, thank you very much."

"Your mother taught you. And I'm sure she did a fantastic job with it but at the end of the day she is a Sun Summoner, not a Shadow one."

"She has used your power." Adirk jabs.

Aleksander does not take the bait. "She has. But borrowing something from time to time is not the same as owning it. As growing up with it and learning to master it."

This is quite enough for Adrik. He still hasn't figured out why his father sought him out, or engaged with this growingly ridiculous conversation. He still doesn't know what the Darkling wants. "Look, this is-I need to go."

"We will train," Aleksander declares, all King now. "Everyday, after your lessons are complete."

"W-What?" Adrik sputters, all the more confused at every word his father is saying. But this? Planning actual time to spend with him? Alone?

Perhaps he truly has decided to kill him.

And now the Darkling does something truly, utterly impossible. Perhaps Adrik had already been Cut on the walk to the stream when he hadn't been looking, and is dead in some afterlife now. The Darkling, his father, smiles at him. Perfect white teeth, lips curling with amusement.

"You do remind me of her," He says with this smile, ruefully Adrik can't help but notice. As if it hurts to admit this truth, that him costs him to say it aloud. "Stubborn. Easily flustered."

Saints above, he's blushing. "My mother is not easily flustered. Nor am I."

"Perhaps she isn't now, but before…when we first met," Aleksander trails off and doesn't continue. It's seems he has already revealed too much of himself and isn't willing to go further. He straightens his kefta. "Perhaps this can be a first meeting between us then."

"But it's not," Adrik huffs pointedly. "And whatever you're trying to do-did she put you up to this? Look, don't force yourself on me. I don't want your pity or false attention-"

Aleksander shakes his head. "I give nothing I don't want to give. And though Alina would like to think she does, she doesn't command me."

Both men let that lie fall pitifully to the ground between them.

With a pointed cough, Aleskander slides past Adrik. "Tomorrow we start."

"You don't command me," Adrik spits at the back of his black kefta. Now this, is not so much a lie. And quite a dangerous thing to say to the King, the Darkling, himself. Adrik almost regrets it…almost.

And the heaviness of the comment indeed has Aleksander stop, and turn to look at his son. "We will live for eternity. Your mother and I. You and Malina. If you wish to live that life at odds with me, then so be it. If you wish to foster this chasm in our family, that is your choice. Time is one thing I've never run out of, Adrik. Reject me today, in a month, in a year, in ten, in a hundred. There will always be more and more to come. You decide what you want to do with all that before you."

Then he walks away.

Adrik is furious, confused, and as usual, alone.

And damn the man to hell, all Adrik can focus on is that is the first time he has ever heard his father say his name.


"You put him up to it," Adrik accuses, pulling on his kefta. Blue. He never had any inclination to request a black one, as his parents wear, nor did either of them offer it (both having different reasons of course). But his mother only wears it on formal occasions where nobles will be present, blue when she it a day that requires no royal obligations, and her signature golden and white one when she really wants to be seen and make a statement.

Mila dons a blue one due to her age, but tells absolutely anyone when she has the chance she can't wait to have a black one just like Papa.

Alina, sitting at Adrik's desk and leafing absently through one of his books, shrugs. "Not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

"I never suggested what he was to do with you, just that this cold war between you two needed to end."

Adrik smooths his kefta down, knowing there is no dust or wrinkles on it, but feeling the need to anyway. "Guilty enough."

"Guilty?" Mila echoes from Adrik's bed. She's on her back, messing up the quilts he had folded neatly this morning (one of the few things he likes kept in his room), and twirling two balls of light between her hands. Six years old and she already looks like a pro. Adrik doesn't remember being so skilled with his shadows at that age. He remembers being afraid, mostly, and confused as to why he had the same curse of the horrid man they called the Black Heretic and Darkling.

"It's when someone proves you did something." Alina supplies.

"Proves?" Mila continues to echoes.

Alina sends her daughter a bemused smile. "Remember when you ate all the cookies and said Adrik did it?"

Mila grows quiet at that, her balls of light flickering out, but she gives out a huff of confirmation.

"So, we went to Adrik's room, but the cookie jar wasn't there. Where was it moya solnishka?"

Mila just huffs again, crossing her arms across her chest and starring resolutely at the ceiling.

Adrik grins and bounds over to her, tickling her sides without mercy. "Where was it myshka? Hm? Tell me!"

A burst of giggles and indignation tumbles out of the small girl's lips, but she's smiling and squirming playfully under her brother's hands. She good naturedly flashes some light at him, not enough to hurt, but Adrik just as quickly douses them with him much more powerful shadows. It is a game the two of them often enjoyed playing with each other.

"Mine!" Mila squeals when a Adrik directs a shadow to crawl between her exposed toes. "The cookie jar was in my room!"

Alina laughs as Adrik finally pulls away, patting her head with a wink.

"That's what prove means, devachka maja," A voice vibrates from the doorway. "When we found the cookie jar, we proved you ate the cookies, and not Adrik."

It can't be helped, Adrik flinches at the sound of his father's voice. For more reason than one. Hearing his name on his lips again, the fact that Aleksander is physically in his room, or that the whole family is together and the usual tension isn't there.

It's a lot.

He straightens instinctively when he faces Aleksander, who is leaning against the fram of the door with a soft smile on his face. His grey eyes move from Alina, to Mila, and when they finally land on Adrik they take on a more keen glint. "You're late."

"I'm not!" Adrik blurts, but glances at the clock because he's actually not sure. His last lesson ended only 15 minutes ago when he came here to get ready, exactly when his mother and sister barged in with Alina intent on knowing everything Aleksander had in store for him today. As if Adrik even knew himself.

The clock shows a minute is left until 4 pm, which, technically, isn't late. But by the time Adrik would have made it to the gardens he supposes another two or three minutes would have passed. His father was a very punctual man. But if he was going to be late, surely the Darkling was as well since he was standing here with them all now.

Not that it would matter if Adrik pointed it out.

Aleksander seemed to read this exact thought in his mind for his grin turned wolfish.

Kind grin or not, the unexpected sight still makes his stomach squirm.

"Sasha," Alina warns. She rises to her feet and sweeps over to him, reaching up to place a kiss to his cheek. "Be nice. Come now, Mila, we'll have some lessons today as well!"

Mila bounces up with an excited squeal and hits the floor so hard every adult in the room flinches. But the structure of children apparently is that of steel for she doesn't lose a beat and bounds after her mother. Of course, she tackles her father's knees first, giving him a brutish hug of goodbye.

Aleksander smooths back her hair in return, and just before she releases him, she throws her unruly hair over her shoulder to look at Adrik.

"Adrik, I think Papa is trying to prove he loves you."

Everyone in the room freezes. Alina is in the hallway but twirls around so quickly her hair looks like it almost hurt whipping her face. Aleksander's whole posture has turned to stone, and he refuses to look away from the top of Mila's head. Even Adrik doesn't know what to do or where to look so he stands there, gapping like an idiot.

Mila doesn't notice what she's done at all, and looks up to Aleksander for some validation. "Right, Papa? Proves! Did I use the word right?"

Aleksander's mouth opens a fraction, then closes. There is noticeable bob of his throat but then he returns to himself, smiling and again smoothing Mila's hair back. The King of Ravka does not get caught off guard by a six year old. "Yes, love, you used it right."

The little, innocent thing lets out a sound of pleasure and then detaches herself from Aleksander's legs, running out of the room towards her mother. Alina is as pleased as a cat with a mouse in her claws, but wisely chooses not to disturb the moment more with any comment of her own. She's lets her expression do it all, and silently guides her daughter away from sight.

Adrik is sure he doesn't know how to move anymore.

The decision to dutifully ignore the moment comes from Aleksander who turns on his heel and simply orders "Come" over his shoulder.

Adrik near stumbles after him, trying to regain control of his senses. It meant nothing, he tells himself. Mila had learned a new word and had tested it out. Technically, yes, she had used the word properly. Her father couldn't simply tell her otherwise and confuse the poor thing. But that didn't mean the truth behind the statement was right. Aleksander had confirmed her vocabulary use, not observational skills.

That's all it was. All it could truly be.

Right?


On most night, the royal family takes their dinner alone.

In her first life at the Little Palace, Alina had been used to eating with the other Grisha. The Darkling, of course, never bothered gracing them with their presence. And years and years later, now in this life, when she and Aleksander reunited and the distance between them, both physically and emotionally, didn't seem so small anymore, she found herself in the little palace again.

This time not as the first Sun Summoner or eventual Sankta Alina, but the Queen of Ravka. She hadn't wanted the title, she never did, but Ravka had grown lazy and greedy with the years of peace they had been given. They had ignored the murmurs of threat from their once enemies, grew naïve that the old alliances would stay strong.

Alina couldn't stay quiet and hidden anymore when her country began to bleed.

Her immortality and return of powers had been a shock to her. It was the immortality, first, when Mal began to age and she didn't. They both knew the truth when her hair never greyed, and her skin never sagged. They both cried silently, not needing to express the words of grief that they wouldn't grow old together, and Alina would have to face the rest of eternity alone.

And when Mal finally did pass, Alina let out such a scream of agony that light exploded from her once again.

She didn't think it had anything to do with Aleksander. She believed that maybe, once again, she had just pushed everything deep inside of her in a desperate plea for a normal life.

Alina never suspected her connection to Aleksander had anything to do it.

After freeing him from his cage of the tree, he had once again left the world, his form disappearing into a form of shadow and smoke. And that was that, apparently. No one had wanted to question it further.

But only a day after attacking Ravka's enemy with her light, the news of the North being protected by shadow's reached her ears.

It could only be one person.

So they reunited, with a common interest this time. Not only that, but Alina had been so tired and alone. So tired of being alone. She didn't forgive him for the past, but she realized what he had been trying to tell her since the truth came out between them. They were infinite. Only them. And if one was alone, they so was the other.

Alina couldn't bear it anymore.

Aleksander, of course, still had sights on the throne. And with the state Ravka was in, it would be easy for him to take this time. No bloodshed of his own people, no betrayal. He would be hailed a hero. But, of course, he also still wanted her by his side. Alina often wondered what he would choose if given the ultimatum. Of course, in their first life together, he had made that decision very plain. But Alina could see it in him now too. The weariness. The fear of being alone that mirrored her own.

There was also the undeniable connection, attraction, feelings, that Alina always tried to ignore. But it was there none the less. Perhaps she didn't want to be alone, and neither did he, but there was also the fact that Aleskander wanted Alina and Alina wanted Aleksander.

So this time, together, they saved Ravka (Alina's desire) and then ruled it (Aleksander's).

A simple lie of being descendants of the first Sun and Shadow Summoners.

So, so simple.

After this life began, now not only Grisha but royalty, both Alina and Aleksander took dinner with the nobility, which included Grisha as well.

Then Adrik happened.

Then she was gone for 15 years, until she deemed Aleksander manageable enough to come back to.

Thus began family dinners.

It was a feeble attempt, Alina had to admit, to get father and son to bond. Also a condition she refused to budge on for her return to the Palace. Honestly, she didn't think it would be so hard. Truly. She understood Aleksander's (albeit foolish) thoughts but her husband was also a smart man. Surely he would learn to care for the child he had fathered.

Well, as she said, foolish.

But then Mila came and family dinners became more tolerable. Even pleasant on some nights. Father and son grew into routine with each other, ignoring the other's presence unless conversation was necessary. Alina filled the gaps, and soon enough Mila.

But tonight's dinner was a whole new world.

Because Aleksander was finally trying and Adrik was, well, suspicious but not outright rejecting the prospect.

Alina couldn't hope for more.

"So how was training?" She says it causally enough as to not pressure the two men in her life, both as nervous as does in the forest ready to jump at the snap of any branch when it came to talking about their feelings.

It was funny actually. Adrik believed Aleksander resented him all the more because he saw so much of herself in him, when Alina couldn't help but see so much Aleksander in him. Loveable idiots.

At the question, Adrik aggressively shovels more potatoes in his mouth while Aleksander shoots her an unamused look.

"Did you do good bratishka?" Mila asks with a mouthful of pork.

"Mila, chew and swallow," Aleskander admonishes.

She does as told without fuss, still starring at Adrik waiting for an answer.

Blushing, Adrik mumbles, "It was fine" while poking at the steamed vegetables on his plate.

This doesn't seem to appease the little princess. She looks to Aleksander all business like and asks with evident impatience, "Did he do good, Papa?"

"Fine," He replies, which is essentially the same thing Adrik said, so obviously Mila is reaching her limit.

"I did very good today, didn't I Mama?" She does not wait for Aline to answer. "Because today I was able to make a light as big as me. I've never done that before, right Mama? So, what did you do Adrik? Did you make a shadow as big as you?"

Alina snorts into her drink.

The red beneath Adrik's skin deepens. "Ah-no, I didn't do that. I-wait, I can do that, Mila. That's not-that's not special-"

"Alright than what did. You. Do?"

"Mila," Aleksander admonishes for the second time in one sitting. And in Adrik's defense no less. Both his children pause to gape at him. Mila may not totally understand what lies between the two of them, but she knows her Papa enough that he has never done something like this to her before.

"The Cut," Adrik blurts out if only to rush over the awkwardness of the moment. "I learned the Cut."

Alina furrows her brow. "But you do know the Cut. I taught you."

"You taught him a variation of it, lyubov moya." The pleasured teasing behind the words are not meant to be subtle. Now Aleksander looks all too smug, taking a long drag of his drink. "Albeit a very good one, but not quite what it could be."

She gapes at him. "Excuse me? Do I need to demonstrate my Cut for you right here and now? I thought you'd be well acquainted with it by now."

"Love," Aleksander reaches across the table, grasping her now curled fist. "Your Cut could tear down palaces and mountains, we all know this. But yours is of light, ours is of dark. The same, generally, but not completely. It is no offense to your power or teaching."

Alekasander's soothing tone, the swipe of his thumb across her knuckles, and of course the logic of his words sooths Alina's disgruntlement. Though Adrik could make a list of things wrong with his father that would take yards of parchment to write, his ability to sooth his mother would not be on it. Granted, he could just as equally ignite her fire, but the fact still stood.

Adirk doubted his father ever had love for him, but it was always painfully obvious that Alina was Alexander's whole world.

Perhaps now, though, that world included Mila. Maybe, with enough time, even him.

Oh-what a foolish thought. Mila's childishness was getting to him.

Bringing them all back to the present, Mila asked before biting a chunk of bread, "So you're better at the cut now, bratishka?"

"I-yes. It is better." There was no point in denying it. He hadn't even realized how weak his Cut was until his father showed him. Adrik did damage, which he thought was enough. But there was quite a difference between damage and destruction.

Adrik's cut sliced into a boulder, making a gash deep enough to stick your fingers into. But Aleksander's cut the whole thing in half, with such precision that if you blinked you would miss the attack altogether.

Of course, Adrik had always been aware his mother's Cut was more powerful than his. But he always just assumed it was because Alina was older and, to put it bluntly, stronger than he. It made sense. It had never occurred to him, and apparently his mother, that it was because she didn't know how to truly call forth the darkness to bleed power into his hands and create a weapon that ensured death.

"Your mother," Aleksander had told him earlier that day as Adrik gathered shadow after shadow to strengthen his Cut. "Thrives on light. Hope. Goodness. The dark does not survive on such things. It is weakened by them. Sense the shadows around you. Fear. Anger. The thoughts and feelings of the world that stick to corners and hide from others. Bay them to be at your command. Show them they need not hide as they are as strong and as powerful as everything else around them. Make them yours."

The words had scared Adrik. They touched something deep inside him he did not understand. But he listened to his father's teaching, focused on feelings he was all too familiar with, and created a Cut that didn't quite go through a whole boulder but certainly ran deeper than his original one. A Cut, he awed while starring at his hands, that felt entirely different from the one his mother had taught him.

As Adrik recalled all this silently in his seat at the table, his confusion and fear over the incident must have showed on his face. For when looked up, Alina was staring intensely at him. There was a look in her eyes he didn't recognize. At least, it was a look she had never given him. It was concern but mixed with a layer of suspicion that had a wave of irrational guilt pour down Adrik's body. He avoided her gaze, not entirely sure why, and focused back on his food.

There were no more questions of their training for the rest of the meal.


Aleksander's hand is sliding up and down her back, applying enough pressure to not be considered idle or all that innocent.

"You've been quiet since dinner," He observes, his voice thick with either sleep or something else. The way he stops to toy with the hem of the upper part of her nightgown hints at the latter.

She remains leaning forward, hunched over her upright knee to rub some cream onto her lower calve and ankle. She does not answer his words nor the not so subtle touches.

"Alina."

Still she remains silent, rubbing into her skin.

His relents his touch. "If you're going to be like this, I can go to my own room."

A petty threat, one that they have both have used against each other from time to time. They share a bedroom, for all intents and purposes, and the largest one in the palace at that. The King of Ravka would have no less (though the Queen certainly did not care). But they are both hot headed, stubborn fools, and when living with a person for all eternity, not every night will always be pleasant. So, each have claimed individual bedrooms in the castle, nothing that would disturb or throw out anyone else, but just places they can retreat to when they need to be alone. Or when their better half is being an insufferable pain.

In Alina's opinion, she is most certainly always the better half.

So Aleksander make's his threat, stops his barely begun seduction, but doesn't move from the bed.

Alina smirks into the skin of her knee. The ball is still in her court.

"Alina," He tries again, now growling with reprimand.

"I am not Mila. Do not scold me like a child."

"When you act this way-"

"You always say this. I understand you're older, dedushka, but certainly at this point I have earned enough years to not be a child in your eyes."

She gasps as her back is roughly pulled down onto the bed and Aleksander is suddenly on top of her, his hands pinning her arms against the mattress and one of his knees pushing up between her legs.

Alina gasps again when his knee connects with her core, and grows embarrassingly wet embarrassingly quick as he rubs.

Aleksander's grey eyes grow positively black as he gazes hungrily down the length of her body. "You are certainly not a child in my eyes, love."

Her nightgown is a bit flimsy tonight, Alina can't deny it, but she did it to punish Aleksander, not seduce him. Because the conversation she wants to have-needs to have-with him has to have her with the upper hand, not the other way around. So far, it's going spectacularly terrible.

Aleksander leans down to suck a wet kiss to the juncture of her neck. Alina tries to wiggle away but then his teeth begin to scrape at her skin. "No, stop."

"You don't want me to stop," He whispers against her ear, then sucks the lobe into his mouth.

Pleasure unfurls all the way down to her toes, and she can't help but grind into his knee. She had forgone an undergarment tonight as well, another foolish choice coming to haunt her. There is nothing but skin against skin down there, and the growing evidence of her arousal.

"Aleksander," She tries again. It's a weak protest even to her own ears.

"Is this the game we are playing tonight, solnishka? That I'm the big bad villain come to force himself upon the oh so innocent maiden?"

A game they have played before, and one Alina likes far more than she cares to admit.

"Or is it you're the pious Sankta, unable to give her maidenhood to the dark demon but can't help but want it so bad."

That elicits a fresh gush of pleasure onto his knee.

Aleksander groans and practically devours her mouth with his. Alina is at a loss now. She forgets the conversation they needed to have. Forgets the fear that had taken route in her mind when she saw Adri's face at dinner. Forgets everything and anything but the man atop her and the need for more screaming in her blood.

"Sankta," Aleksander breathes against her lips as he pulls away.

"Worship me," She answers just as breathlessly, falling easily into the role that her husband-her demon-has offered her. "Get on your knees and worship me."

"Then I can have you?" He bargains, releasing one arm to roughly cup her breast. His thumb circles around her nipple through the silk of her gown, steadily applying pressure. "Then I can ruin you? Fuck you until there is nothing holy about you? Fuck you until you're mine? Fuck you until you know nothing in this world but me?"

Their games always have an element of reality to them. Their own insecurities, their raw and ever present desperate needs, demand to be appeased, no matter what the situation.

"Yes," Alina near screams. She ruts against his knee, arches into his hand. Weeps with the need to come undone. Honestly, Alina would be embarrassed if she had any sense at the moment. These touches were innocent compared to other things Aleksander has done to her. "Give it to me, and I'll give you everything."

"Everything?" Aleksander continues to taunt. Oh, he is truly playing into this demon role tonight. But he releases her other arm and backs up, lower down the bed, down her body.

Alina is already pulling up her night gown, exposing her sex to him. She raises her hips up in invitation, vigorously nodding her head.

Aleksander lowers his head down to her cunt, and blows lightly. It makes Alina whine, but he does nothing else. "Tell me, Sankta. I need to hear your words. I will not touch your body till you permit me to do so."

She already had, she thinks petulantly. But pointing that out will not get her what she wants. "Fuck me with your mouth," Alina demands, again tilting up her hips. "Give me release."

Aleksander grins as if he were the devil himself. "As my Sankta wishes."


The next morning, they are both naked and draped over each with little energy left in their bodies. They fucked more than they slept, so any hopes of a productive morning, even a productive day, seem close to impossible.

That's okay. Being the King and Queen gives you these reprieves once in a while.

What will never give them a reprieve, though, is their responsibility of being parents.

The bedroom door bursts open to a wailing Mila and a frantic looking Adrik chasing after her.

Adrik, at least, stops dead in his tracks when he sees his parents. Specifically, his mother's bare back as she lays face down against his father's exposed chest. Mila doesn't have the sense, yet, to realize the position they are in. So, she barrels into the bed, throwing herself against Alina's back and clutching onto it for dear life.

"Mila!" Aleskander exclaims, both in shock and admonishment. Honestly, he's not sure what to do considering his own state of undress, so he holds his wife tight to his body, less any inappropriate parts of himself get exposed to his children.

Alina also clutches tightly to her husband for the same reason. Perhaps, had it just been Mila in the room, she would have rolled over quickly to grab something to cover herself. Aleksander could have done the same quick maneuver.

But Adrik is here so that's not really an option right now.

"Mama he hurt Adrik!" Mila cries into her mother's back.

It's then, as the shock minimizes only just slightly, that both parents notice the thin stream of blood slinking out of their son's nose.

"Who?" Aleksander demands immediately.

Is it because Adrik is his son and he's hurt? No, it is too early for that, Aleksander decides resolutely. No, it's because someone dared touch his son, the Darkling's blood, and that someone dared touch the prince of Ravka. It's an offense on many fronts.

Aleksander, an expert at reading people's expressions, can see Adrik doesn't believe his question comes from genuine concern either. His son, in fact, looks positively annoyed that he questioned the situation at all. "It's nothing," Adrik states with a finality that borders on Aleksander's own talent at ending conversations.

Alina shifts uncomfortably between the bodies of her husband and sobbing daughter. "Something clearly happened," She manages to strangle out, still trying to figure the best way out of her predicament.

Mila suddenly stops her wailing, though the sniffles can't be contained, and raises her head to look her father dead in the eye. "It was Dimitri, Papa. Punish him."

She sounds like a truly ruthless princess there.

"Mila," Adrik warns.

Aleksander answers his daughter's steely glare with his own terrifying one. One that no one, but perhaps Alina, knows not to barter with. "Mila, off your mother. Now."

His daughter gives a glower that may be a combination of both her parents, but she does as she's told and slides off the bed. She stomps over to her brother, embracing his legs as her height will only allow. "I wish I was a healer and could help you," She mumbles into his pants.

Adrik smiles down at her and cradles the back of her head, whispering a soft, "Thank you." And, without her notice, angles them away from the sight of their naked parents.

Alina and Aleksander move quick, grabbing whatever clothes are close and available.

Clothed within moments, they are both standing and are now ready to face to their children.

"What happened?" Alina asks, not as the sympathetic mother but as a clearly pissed off one.

"Really," Adrik beings, turning back toward them. "It's nothing. Mila is overreacting. We'll go, it's early. Um, you both can-ah, eat breakfast or, whatever it is you both do…this early. We'll go-"

"No!" Mila shouts and stomps her foot on the ground. "He made you bleed."

"Tell me Mila," Aleksander commands softly. Mila is too young to notice the difference between this and a question. Too young that his gentle tone tricks her all too easily.

Alina shoots him a look of warning, while Adrik looks resigned. Her son is wary of his father's manipulations but at least aware. Not Mila, not yet. Alina doesn't want Mila to follow down her footsteps, to be a preening fool for the love and attention of the man that is Aleskander Morozova. She's told him as much as well and though he tries, his old immortal self and his ways is hard to shake. Understandable, but doesn't make her any less angry. Especially when it comes to their young daughter.

"I was hungry," Mila begins with one large sniff. "And you and Papa were still sleeping. So, I went down to the kitchens."

"Mila," Adrik says. His breathing is labored.

She rolls her eyes. "Okay, okay, I ran. But I was very hungry. And I didn't mean to hurt anyone. Really, I didn't. But when I opened the door it hit a lady cook and it made her drop a whole bunch of flour onto the floor." She pauses here, her guilt over the situation making her quiet rather than verbally express any apologies. "I said I would help clean. Really, I did. But-"

"But I followed her," Adrik interrupts. He's trembling, white in the face. "Saw her running down the hall. We both offered to help clean. Dimitri misinterpreted the situation is all. There's really nothing more-"

"Doesn't explain your bloody nose," Aleksander says coolly. He looks at his son, excepting nothing more but the truth with his unrelenting gaze.

Adrik grows small but also rebellious under his gaze. He doesn't need his father to fight his battles. If he said it was nothing, if it was done, that should be it. He sure as hell knows Aleksadner's not concerned about his well-being. It's their image, is all. The Darkling's family. The King's family. Nothing more.

"Dimitri thought I did it on purpose!" Mila growls out. As much as a six year old can growl. "He doesn't like me. So he thinks I hurt the lady cook on purpose. I would never do that, Mama and Papa! Promise I wouldn't! So he grabbed my arm, and it hurt, so Adrik pushed him and then-"

Dimitri is a heartrender, one of Aleksadner's close inner group of soldiers. Just as Ivan had been so many years ago. The new Ivan, Alina had huffed so often. Just as grumpy and cold, and vicious when need be. And, apparently, just as distasteful of Sun Summoners.

"A misunderstanding, as I said," Adrik once again interrupts. "Mila, time to go. Mama and…Papa, need to get ready for the day." He's never said that word. Ever. Even to Mila, he's always said father. As formal and detached as possible. But right now, he just wants the conversation over and done with. To be out of this room, Mila with him. To forget everything that has happened this morning thus far.

He needs to foregt.

Mila huffs and crosses her arms across her chest. She looks like a furious little doll in her puffy nightdress. Amusing and adorable under any other circumstances. Her hair is in a messy braid ruined by her sleep. Hair as black as her father, eyes as grey as well. She looks much more like Aleksander than Alina. But perhaps she'll inherit their mother's petite height, as he gained their father's tall one. Always an interesting game to compare who got what. And right now, as she stands stubbornly still in the middle of their parent's bedroom, Adrik isn't sure who she is taking after.

"Aren't you hungry?" Adrik tries again. "Go to your room and we can eat in your bed. Toast, berries, eggs, and maybe I'll sneak in some cookies. You'd like that, wouldn't you? I'll even read you a story."

Both Alina and Aleksander watch as their fiery daughter sizzles at her brother's words. It's a feat even for Aleksander to accomplish. There is still sense of retribution in her eyes, but breakfast in bed with her brother and a promise of a story is apparently too good an opportunity to pass up. "Will you make the shadows play on the wall with the story?" She asks, trying to act as if she isn't too interested.

"Promise," Adrik says very seriously.

So, Mila nods her head and leaves the room, still huffing and clutching her arms to her chest. What a princess she will be. Even a Queen, if her parents ever decide to step down. Adrik goes to follow her but is stopped when a shadow slams the door shut.

He tenses at the display of power, his own rising instinctively in defense.

"No need for that," Aleksander states. "Though a very appropriate response."

Alina looks troubled at both their reactions.

The King clasps his hands behind his back. Not too threating in his night clothes, but it's the man beneath them that is the true threat. "Now what truly happened? No beating around the bush, please."

Adrik clenches his hands into fists, and can't help but sense every shadow in the room he can all to his defense. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to banish them and the memory of this morning. But all there is to feel is how out of control of these situations he is. Just as he had in the hallway with Dimitri. Just as he had when that man dared try to touch his sister again-

"Adrik!" Alina hisses.

Adrik's eyes flash open to see the bedroom has been bathed in darkness. An all-consuming, suffocating one, not just simply blocking out the light of the morning but one that is creeping towards the human occupants of the room to ensnare them in its thrall as well. To devour them. His mother. His father. Him. Adrik calls them back immediately, left feeling horrified at unconsciously using them to begin with. At how out of control they had become by his order.

"Mama?" He whispers, not knowing what he had just unleashed. He has never lost control like that. Ever. There is nothing but fear now for Adrik to feel. Nothing but misery and-

Alina all but slams her body against his, enveloping him in a warm comforting embrace.

"Moy syn," She murmurs into his shoulder. "It's okay, you're okay."

Adrik suddenly wants to cry, even his father is there to witness a few feet away. He feels like he's done something awful-terrible-and opened the door to something that can't be closed. But no, it didn't just happen now. It happened before. With Dimitri. In that hallway with no one but his sister to witness. Oh Saints, his poor sister. No wonder she was sobbing. No wonder she was so afraid-

"Why?" Alina whispers. She is trembling just as hard as him. "What did you do, love?"

Adrik gasps. He was talking out loud. His conscious, so maddened, bled out into his voice. Saints. His mother hasn't relented her hold on him, but his father hasn't moved an inch. He's looking at him with….Saints, Adrik just doesn't know. He thought himself quite skilled at knowing his father's expressions pretty well but this? He has no idea. Curiosity? Repulsion? Disgust? Pride? It's all mixed, all unsure. It makes Adrik feel even worse.

"Tell us Adrik," Aleksander prompts. Command, not question. He's not Mila. He won't be fooled. He won't answer if he doesn't want to. He won't.

His mother, who knows him best in this world, who is the one he will always love most, senses his hesitation. "Please, love," She begs. The Sun Summoner, Sankta Alina, is begging. It's enough to make him bow down to his knees and ask for forgiveness. Perhaps he is more like his father than he cares to admit. How could he ever deny this woman anything? "He touched Mila," Adrik begins tersely. As his lips move he realizes he's crying. Saints. "Grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of the kitchen."

Shadows, again, begin to crawl up the walls of the room. Adrik isn't entirely sure they are his. Aleksadner isn't entirely sure either.

"It was…a misunderstanding. It was. But, Saints, he's always been an ass, hasn't he? He's never been kind to me and certainly not to Mila. Thinks she's a little entitled brat. That we both are, being the children of-" He stops there, but looks at the King, providing all the answer needed.

The room is still growing darker, and Alina is doing nothing to stop it. Perhaps she's numbed her light. Perhaps she's event tapped into the bond between she and Aleksander, summoning her rage into her own personal shadows.

Aleksander takes a step towards them. "Go on."

"He threw her to the ground," Adrik continues. The scene takes shape in his head, and he's there again. Seeing this man, this outsider, offend a person he loves. His family. "Maybe he thought it wouldn't hurt. But she's a child. What the hell did he think was going to happen?" Rage overcomes his misery in the blink of an eye. Adrik no longer is afraid of himself, and his decisions. He feels suddenly…calm. So eerily and utterly calm. "What did he think?" Adrik muses, to himself or his parents, he doesn't know. His voice, though, is no longer trembling. "That he, a grown man, could just push a child around like that? That he could manhandle her like that? His princess? My sister?"

Aleksander is close now. Oh, so close. Alina hasn't moved, her cries continuing to wet Adrik's shoulder. But her son's attention is solely on his father now. Watching his response to his words. His…acceptance of them.

"I…I didn't think. I just felt. Like you told me. The anger and-and fear. Everything that shouldn't be hidden, that should be in the light, that should be so powerful."

Alina pulls away now, not sure who it is she's holding onto so dearly anymore. This is not her son. This is not Adrik. This man…these words….they are…

Now, Aleksander is at her back. His heat pouring into her body. But it's not she he reaches out to. No, it's not, and instantly it makes her feel as cold as ice. "You did as you should have," the Darkling says into the room of black. No sun, no life, no love. Just black and shadow and never ending despair. "No one should ever, and will never, touch our family."

Alina stares helplessly at her son's face as he looks straight at Aleksander. Under any other circumstance, she would have reveled in this. That finally-finally-the two men she loves most in this life have formed a bond between each other. But not like this. Saints, never like this.

"I didn't mean to," Adrik admits, and now he looks down at his mother, some shame finally entering his gaze. "Truly I didn't. It's just…Saints, Mama. The look on his face, if you only just saw it! I know he would have hit her if he thought he could get away with it. I know he would have."

Alina doesn't know what to say. She wants to tell her child, her love, her first born, that it will be okay. More than anything in this world, she does. But within a day, a night, life have shifted. So much that she doesn't know what to do or how to handle it. She wanted Adrik and Aleksadner to get close. Of course, she did. But not like this. Never like this. This-this monstrosity of a situation-is what she wanted to address last night. But then she had been so weak, so foolish, and so stupidly, fucking unforgivably horney.

It's moments like these she remembers why a part of her will always hate Aleksander. Why an a part of her will always hate herself.

"Adrik," Aleksander says into the dark.

Alina could banish these shadows if she wished. With only a simple thought in her mind and touch of her hands. End this madness before it festered any more. She could. She should. And yet…yet she looks at her son, hoping he would make the decision for himself. She raised him for fifteen years without Aleksander. Without his influence, darkness, or greed. Could he not see what was right and good himself? Couldn't he make this all so important decision without her influence?

"Adrik," Aleksander says once more. "Did you kill him?"

Alina knows the answer right away, before Adrik has a chance to respond with his body or words.

"Yes," Her son whispers. "I did. I Cut him. I Cut him when I saw Mila cowering on the floor and his hands raised to harm her."

Maybe Dimitri had been aiming to slow her heart and calm her nerves. Keep her fury at bay. Any other reason that didn't involve unnecessarily harming her. Maybe. But Adrik hadn't bothered to think that way. He saw a threat, and he acted.

"And your bloody nose?" Aleksander was relentless tonight. Determined to have every detail, apparently. Every little scrap of story to this tragedy. But…but-no, no that isn't it. Alina sucks in a breath. This is a game. His game. This is not for information, this is not him prodding to understand the situation. This is his way to…sway Adrik. Oh. Oh Saints. Alina realizes it much too late. So foolishly so late. She always wanted to believe in the prospect of light in her husband's heart. That he would one day love his son. And maybe he would. One day. Saints knows it took him time to fall in love with her, and realize that was more important than what she could gain him. But Adrik had yet to reach that stage and Aleksander was still the foolishly, selfish immortal he was.

Aleksander relented to her wishes to connect with Adrik, but of course he found a way to do it to his benefit. Mila already loved her father and Adrik did not. Adrik, the only other Shadow Summoner in the world. Alina believed herself to always be Aleksander's equal but perhaps, Saints, perhaps she and he had been wrong about that.

"He tried to defend himself," Adrik says quietly. "He attacked me. Stopped my heart from beating. But I was stronger. Everything I was feeling was so much stronger. I couldn't breathe but I knew without a doubt that I would slice this man in half. Just as you taught me." Adrik breaks down again, this time falling to his knees and pushing his face into his mother's stomach. "Mama, I killed him. I Cut him in half but when he fell to the ground, his face kept moving. Spit and words kept coming out of his mouth. I-I didn't move quick enough. I tried to fix it-"

Then the true killing blow of the conversation comes.

Maybe Aleksander knew, from the beginning, how this tale was going to end. How he did, Alina could would never know. But her husband has always had the uncanny talent of foresight, which she has only resented him for, and never admired. For when Adrik finishes his tale, Aleksander doesn't flinch once. Not once.

"I went to Mila, to help her. I didn't look behind me. I didn't want to see what I did," Adrik closes his eyes. His hands reach out for something that isn't there. "But she saw. She…saw what I had done. Saw that the man I had killed wasn't quite dead yet. She didn't understand. How could she?" Adrik shutters. And then, Alina watches almost in a daze, as Aleksander's hand wraps around the base of their son's head, and cradles him. Alina can't move, for so many reasons.

Adrik closes his eyes and beyond all reason, leans into his father's embrace. "She saw a half corpse, clinging onto life, look at her brother with hatred. He wasn't a threat. Any normal adult would have known that. But she's a child. She doesn't…doesn't realize…" Adrik sucks in a breath, "She Cut him. A half body. An already dead man. Sliced his head clear from his chest. She doesn't even know how to do that but she did. And-and she just-just thought nothing of it. She ran in here crying about me. That I was the victim in this whole situation. I'm not sure she knows what she's done. Or she does and doesn't care? Saints, all she cares about now is breakfast. Mama, I don't know. I don't know and I'm so sorry and-" Adrik truly shutters here. A violent tremble that rocks his whole body. Alina can't bear to see what he'll do next, so she closes her eyes. To him. To all of it.

"Papa, help me. Help us."

The statement bears a weight so heavy, that all three of them don't know what to truly do with it.

"Aleksander," Alina sobs, far beyond her pride and caring.

"I will take care of it," Her husband says, without any fear or hesitation. "I will take care of it."


It is the next day.

Nothing is the same. And yet, everything is.

No one questions Dimitri's absence. There are no whispers of a cook hit in the face by a door pushed by the princess the next day. There is nothing but normalcy.

Mila, for her part, doesn't acknowledge what she's done. No one is sure what to make of this. Adrik is miserable, of course, and Alina and Aleksander beyond cautious. Perhaps, in the small girl's head, she vanquished an evil man. Perhaps. And maybe when she grows old and her brain matures, this will all come back to haunt them and her. No one knows.

But Adrik. Oh, poor Adrik.

He keeps to his room. Barely teaches his classes. He's killed a man for the first time, and then bares the weight of his sister adding on to the evil deed. Bares the weight of his sister not knowing what she's truly done.

Adrik is a ghost now.

"This is your fault," Alina says one morning as Aleskander is dressing himself for the day.

He pauses briefly, at the second button of his kefta, before resuming. "Elaborate?"

"You taught him about darkness. About hate. My Adrik would never kill a man. Not before he was taught by you."

She doesn't care if her words hurt. That it creates a split between them. A rupture between their family had already happened. She's just note sure who is on what side now.

"He is a Shadow Summoner. He must know these things."

"You made him a killer!" Alina growls.

"And our daughter? You're the only one to have taught her, is she my fault as well?"

Tears pool in Alina's eyes. "No, that's not-she didn't know what she was doing-"

"Our children are killers, with or without each other's influence," Aleksander states as a matter of fact. He moves forward and grips her by the arms. "You had Adrik your whole life, and I had Mila. They still both chose to kill that man."

"You taught Adrik to hate!" Alina protests, outwardly crying now. She grips her husband's wrists, and lets sun pour from her veins and sear his skin. Aleksander doesn't flinch, doesn't move. He takes the pain, the burn, everything Alina will give him. He deserves it. All of it. She's right. Perhaps he's not all to blame, but some of it rests on his shoulders. His children may have been innocent babes had they never met him.

"When you taught him the Cut," Alina continues, uncaring of anything else. "You taught him things I never would. Of darkness and anger-"

"That is what the dark is!" Aleksander explodes, breaking his cold demeanor. "This is what you always failed to accept! Always denied to know! The dark is part of me. Part of us. And now, our children. Alina, if there was ever a moment that you had to put your insufferable need to be a savior aside, now would be it. You are always so quick to forget how close to being a good man I could be, and how close to being a monster you are."

"Aleksander-"

"This is immortality, Alina. We are not good or bad, dark or evil. We just are. You ran away with Adrik because you thought I could not handle it. But look at yourself now. He has chosen a path in life and now you can not handle it. Mila has done the same. It was meant to just be you and I but you chose to have more." Aleksander calms now. "We chose to have more. Now we must accept the consequences of our actions. Whatever they may be."

Alina growls like a feral beast.

"Oh, my love," Aleskander purrs. "The best has yet to come."