Chapter two- Goddess of Light

Alina

I gave my name to the servant with more confidence than I felt. I knew the name would mean nothing to her. If I was spoken of at all these days it was as 'Sankta Alina' or the 'Sun Summoner'. My real name meant nothing anymore but he would know it.

I waited nervously wishing I had spent more time on my appearance. My blue kefta had long since turned to dusted but I wished I had it now as I nervously smoothed down the white rough spun shirt I wore. The servant returned a somewhat surprised look on her face.

"Follow me," she beckoned.

She led me through the Great Hall; the Grisha gathered there barely gave me a second glance until we reach the doors that would take us to the War Room. Then I heard them, the curious whispers; who is she? They asked. I smiled to myself I knew they would know soon enough.

The servant ushered me into the room. I stood, my chin raised defiantly, showing a confidence I did not feel.

"Alina," his dark velvet voice echoed from the shadows. I thought my legs might give way at the sound of it.

"Aleksander," I replied as he stepped from the shadows. I drew in a breath, I had forgotten how beautiful he was. A suddenly flicker of surprise crossed his face at the use of his given name but then it was gone and he recovered himself.

"You have returned at last," he responded quite matter of fact.

"I gave my word," I told him fully aware that I did not care what he did to me but that he had one promise yet to fulfil and I intended to see he kept his word.

Aleksander

I had forgotten how beautiful she was, even with her storm white hair and in her peasant's clothes, she looked like the Goddess of Light. I sighed inwardly an old sense of longing twisted inside me.

"You must be tried?" I told her, "Your old rooms are being made ready for you. I would be honoured if you would join me for dinner after you have rested."

She merely nodded. I didn't know what I expected; at least she was merely taciturn rather than outright hostile.

"Marie will show you to your room," I realised belatedly that I was being dismissive, "when you are ready." I amended and watched as Alina's eyebrows rose but she merely replied;

"I am tired and would welcome a rest."

"Then I will show you to your room myself," I offered. A small smile tugged at her lips before she responded quietly,

"You forget, I know the way… but as you wish."

I escorted her from the War Room wondering how she might have changed, she was at least 118 years old, and whilst that made her a mere infant in comparison to myself I knew that she had to have gained in skill and wisdom and that I might need to be cautious around her. I had never considered that she might be a threat to me when she returned. Fool, I scoffed to myself as I lead her through the back corridors to her room, she has always been a threat to you.

I opened the door and handed her the key allowing her to enter the room ahead of me.

"I see little has changed," she said eyeing the black kefta laid out on the bed for her. I expected her to protest when she saw the garment but she merely gave a wry smile.

"Later," I commented as I withdrew from the room, she was lost in thought and did not reply. I wondered what recollections this room brought to her and if those recollections were happy ones?

Alina

The room was as I had remembered it. The small hand mirror lay on the dressing table. Genya, I recalled the beautiful Grisha tailor who had dressed my hair and made me feel beautiful. Genya who had betrayed me to the Darkling only to save me at great personal cost, her beauty ruined for her treachery. I looked at the black kefta laid out for me. How she would have laughed with delight to see me in it. She always said the colour suited me. 'Like moonlight through darkness,' she had once said but I had always refused to wear the colour. Even when I buried Mal I could not bring myself to bow to the custom of wearing black. It scandalised my neighbours but I could not dishonour Mal by wearing his enemy's colours. Yet I would wear it now, I knew what it meant, I knew what reaction it would get. No one else wore the Darkling's colours but I would because I had an old debt I needed to pay.

I brushed my hand across the black silk that was shot through with gold. I had not held anything so fine in what seemed like many a life time. Mal and I had had a good life, but it was a simple life and we had shied away from luxury. The Lantsov emerald had been more than enough to set us up with a small estate and that estate had given us a generous income but I always avoided luxury never wishing to remind Mal that I might, had events unfolded differently, have been a Queen. Sighing at the memories I went to bathe.

I lay in the warm bath water for what seemed like hours absently summoning small beams of light and allowing them to play upon the ceiling. I was startled by a small knock upon the door.

"Lady," came a small nervous voice, "you must ready yourself." I groaned, let the games begin I thought to myself, entirely uncertain of what he would want from me.

A few moments later I emerged to find a scared looking girl waiting to dress me. She wore the Red of a Corporalki and her rich red hair flowed in silken curls around her.

"Who are you?" I demanded,

"Marie, Lady," She told me trembling with fear, "I am to dress you."

I moved towards the dressing table considering the girl carefully.

"You are not a servant?" I asked her.

"No Lady but it is my honour to dress you as my grandmother once did," she told me with apparent reverence.

I took in the girl again, the red hair and the beautiful face, she had to be Genya's grandchild and she must therefore know who I was.

"Then you know who I am?" I questioned cautiously.

"Yes," she responded bowing her head,

"and you serve the Darkling?"

I found it difficult to comprehend that Genya's descendant would do this after what the Darkling had done to her grandmother.

"No," she said with a slight laugh, "he is my teacher, I do not serve him."

I looked at her puzzled but said no more allowing her instead to work a tailor's magic.

Finally, my face transformed and my hair twisted in an elaborate knot and held with gold pins, I donned the black silk kefta. It was with a pang of sorrow that I recalled the last time I had warn black, when the Darkling had kissed me and I had warmed to his embrace. So long ago, I told myself shaking off the reverie, a lifetime ago.

Finally ready, I descend to the Great Hall steeling myself for the inevitable response as I entered. The room stilled, preternaturally silent as the assembled Grisha took in the black kefta. This I had expected but when the Darkling rose to his feet bowed slightly and held out his hand I felt a sudden panic grip me. What am I doing here? I demanded of myself as my subconscious told me to run.

"Sankta Alina," he held out his hand as the room collectively gasped. "Please," he notioned to the place beside him. I walked towards him like a sleep walker and, If I had not been stunned before, that one word, 'please', had shocked me to my core.

"You look very beautiful, as always," The Darkling complimented me as I took my seat beside him. I said nothing, I had never been at ease with compliments and I was more than wary of the Darkling's charm.

"Still taciturn I see?" he responded to my silence.

"What do you want of me?" I finally replied.

"I think you already know," he replied quietly so we could not be overheard, "the question is what do you want from me?"

"What do you mean?" I responded in surprise.

"You came here unbidden, Alina," he began, "oh, I know that we agreed this but I had, at the very least, expected to have to remind you of our agreement. Yet here you are! So, I repeat, what is it that you want Alina?"

I sighed, there was no point in prevarication, I had forgotten how shrewd he was, so I decided to just tell him.

"Our bargain is not complete and I have a promise to fulfil to a friend."

"Ah," he responded, "Lanstov."

"You promised," I reminded him, "you promised to remove the curse if…when I returned to you." I corrected myself. The Darkling sighed;

"Ravka cannot have two kings Alina," he said as if that wasn't entirely obvious.

"Then step aside," I snapped, my words were harsher than I intended.

"Not until Grisha can live in Ravka without fear, without danger, without persecution."

I looked at him incredulous, was this what it had all been about?

"You're afraid," I concluded, he glowered at me.

"When you have experienced the blind hatred that I had to bear you will understand." He ground out in a low hiss.

I did not reply, you are afraid, I told him silently, you were always afraid and fear made you cruel. What happened to you Aleksander Mosorov? I wondered.

Author's note

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