Hope you liked Chapter 3 and hope you enjoy the rest! You lovely people you! Thanks for the people that PM'd or followed, but I can't message back unless you message me first! I'm blocked from here, but somehow I can still update...


My feet don't touch the ground. When I look down, I am surprised to see that they've disappeared. I look at my hand, but it's not there.

It's happened. I'm dead.

I float above the Grand Palace, seeing all the little ants scurry.

Without notice, I am pulled from one place into the next.

I close my eyes tight, afraid of what might lie before me. But I am a ghost, I think. I have nothing to fear, nothing to hide from. Nothing to lose.

I open them, and gulp. A beautiful, dark wooded chapel, pews freshly polished. Candelabras circle the room.

All of this falls in my periphery as I my eyes catch the stained glass window positioned at the very center, at the very front of the sanctuary.

It is a vivid portrayal of a Saint, one that I've never seen in the Istorii Sankt'ya. His features are delicate and flawless. Long brown hair spreads out behind him like a bright halo. His dark eyes have a foreign slant to them, and an innocence that I've never seen in real life, or portrayed in the confines of glass.

I shift my gaze to the family that kneels before the Saint, praying hopelessly. I hadn't noticed them previously, since their black hair blends into the shadows. Only the backs of their heads are visible, but I know that it must be a mother and her children. They turn around, but I can't process their features. The only thing I can make out is that the boy and girl are twins, around seven years of age.

"Mama!" the boy croaks. "Why do we have to go? We know no one there!"

"Boy, you hardly know anyone here that is worth knowing. It will be better there." The mother's voice is monotone. Dead, like me.

"No, it will not!" her daughter shrieks. "We know nobody in that place! At least here—"

"Be quiet! Have I not taught you to keep your voice as a whisper in this chapel? Demonstrate decency!" The mother shudders. "You will be taught at the school, and I will punish you if I hear any complaints from your mentors. You will keep quiet about where you come from. Do not ask questions, just do it."

"No!" the girl yells. "I was born here, and I do not belong anywhere else. I do not belong to you."

"You belong to me until you can prove to me that you can show respect. Hold your tongue, girl, or someday someone will cut it out."

"Don't threaten her!" the boy cries. "Have a heart, Mama! Show mercy!"

The mother strokes her son's hair. "I lost my mercy after what happened."


I woke up to the brush of someone's lips on my throat. My eyes were still heavy, so I kept them closed. The mouth grazed my collarbone gently then wandered up to my jaw.

"Alina," the Darkling whispered. "How many times will I have to kiss you until you wake?"

Kiss me forever, I thought, restraining a sigh.I didn't let my eyes open.

He placed a kiss on my forehead, then my eyelids. Heat raced through my veins.

His lips brushed my ear. "Nice try, but your blush gives you away."

I frowned and sat up, face-to-face with the Darkling, who was closer than I'd guessed he was. "I may blush in my sleep. It could be possible."

"No, not even for you, Alina." He stroked my cheek.

I cleared my throat, eager to change the subject. "Where's Genya?" I asked.

"Genya is in her room. She has already packed away your clothes in the drawers. Your guards are in the kitchen, having their meal. Everyone is. I came to your quarters to see how you were adjusting." There was a hint of something suggestive in his tone.

"Where were you?" I squeaked. The Darkling was still caressing my face.

He gave a small smile. "I was meeting with the Emperor. You will meet everyone at dinner tonight."

"Why?"

"It is all for show, Alina. Trust me."

"I do," I said softly.

He seemed a bit surprised, even though he'd known. I'd proved it when I'd left Baghra.

I looked down. "How long have I been unconscious?"

"Around two hours. And it will be two hours until your guards and your servants come back." There it was, that allusive manner.

Nervously, I mumbled, "About the trip—"

The Darkling put his hand up, silencing my words. He was no longer touching my face. "I know nothing happened, Alina. I could see it in your expression."

I let out a relieved breath. "Good. Because you looked…tense."

His eyes hardened. "I hate what Vasily said, but I know it would never occur to you."

I began to babble. "I hated riding with him, if you want to know. A bit of basic thinker, in my opinion. I may be the Sun Summoner, but shouldn't he be looking for a more suitable companion? Many girls are a lot smarter, nicer, and definitely pretti—"

I didn't get to finish my sentence because the Darkling was kissing me, and I couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Thoughts flowed into one another until my mind was as blank as new paper.

Ana Kuya had a saying: "Follow your instincts, they say. Feh! All instinct ever achieved was a getting a girl pregnant!"

The gardener had had a bit of a different proverb: "Instincts lead to discovery. You know yourself, your heart, your body in new ways you never thought of in the past. Calculation separates, your instinct unites."

At that moment, my instinct was to pull the Darkling closer. I didn't hesitate.

His hands as they slowly slid down to my hips triggered a surge of adrenaline that pumped through me. I melted into the hard, passionate press of his mouth.

My fingers bunched in the fabric of his black kefta. He shifted me so I was sitting on his lap. I sighed as his scorching lips trailed down the length of my neck. I whimpered, and we fell backwards onto the bed.

We heard a sharp knock at the door and froze. "Lady Alina!" Roza called. "Are you ready to come out for your tour?"

"In a bit!" I responded, then turned to the Darkling. "Two hours until they come back?" I hissed.

"It is what I was told, at least."

"Another one of your mistakes?" I whispered.

"Or a misunderstanding," he said.

I suddenly realized I was on top of the Darkling. My cheeks turned red, and it seemed to seep into my bones.

I stumbled out of the bed. "Get under the bed, behind the dressing screen. Anywhere where you aren't seen."

I tried to hide my astonishment as the Darkling obeyed, taking cover behind the screen that was in the corner across from the vanity.

My feet led me to the mirror on the table, and I studied my reflection. My hair was in disarray, my lips were bruised. I could pretend to bite my lip a lot. That will work. I tidied my curls as best I could, and hoped that Roza would guess sleep was the cause.

I took a deep breath in and opened the door. Roza, Maxim, Genya, and the twins all bowed. Roza, Maxim, and Genya barged in without warning.

"Sleep well?" Maxim questioned, lounging beside the fireplace.

"I did," I replied. "How was the food?"

"Sustaining," Roza drawled. "Are you ready to depart?"

"Yes."

"So am I," Genya chimed in.

"Wait!" Maxim exclaimed. He took a hairbrush out of a large pocket in his trousers. He ambled over and started pulling the brush through my still-tangled hair.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I barked. I hit his hands until he stopped.

"It's a bit obvious; I am brushing your hair," he said, innocent. "It looks like a nasty little ferret decided to live in there and forgot to clean up after himself." Maxim proceeded.

I swatted him. "Stop it."

He just tried harder.

"Stop touching her hair, Maxim. We can't afford for you to break more hearts," Roza chided.

Genya restrained a smile.

"Fine," Maxim pouted. "If you want her to look ridiculous, go ahead."

Roza clucked her tongue. "The only person that looks ridiculous is the one that carries a hairbrush in a pocket wherever he goes."

"Is it wrong to want to look handsome all hours?"

"No, but a girl wouldn't stuff face paint in her brassiere. If we don't get that freedom, you don't get yours."

Genya and I on looked as if watching an intense swordfight.

"I could share my brush with you."

"No, Maxim. Who knows what's in that head of yours? I may catch that disease you have. What is it? Oh, laziness."

"Here we go again," Maxim groaned.

"We should go," I said, embarrassed that the Darkling could hear every word.

"She's right," Genya approved. "We only have a few hours to see the Palace. You have forever to finish your feud."

"Very well," Maxim complained. He put an arm around my waist. "But I partner with Alina."

I glared daggers, but his cocky grin never wavered.

"Forgive him, Alina," Roza apologized. "He likes them young and sweet-looking. He's mostly harmless though."

"It's the mostly that bothers me," I said with gritted teeth. I dug my nails into his bicep, and he yelped like a child.

He agreed. "All right, let's go now. But first we need to give this girl a manicure. You'll want to take care of those breadknives before laying a hand on someone."

The girls and I laughed and I motioned toward Maxim with a beckoning finger. Genya and Roza giggled.

Maxim's eyes twinkled. "Oh well, whatever you say, Lady Alina."

I left my chambers and the Darkling behind and prayed he would manage without being caught.


Roza, Genya, Maxim, and I strolled through the Palace grounds, Maxim and Roza chattering and bickering excitedly, and Genya and I gawking in awe at the calming gardens and spewing fountains.

Roza had convinced the twins to go off and relax, and they approved, however hesitantly. They trusted Roza enough with me. Hopefully now, the Darkling can exit without suspicion.

We were now arriving at a rather large nondescript red-bricked building with mahogany doors. Another thing I noticed: all the walls and doors had the same design of the golden dragon. How eerie. Even the little bakery on the grounds that Roza had stopped by at had the same dragon. My fingers were sticky from the bun they had given me.

"No eating or drinking inside the walls," Roza snapped. I jumped and stuffed the pastry in my kefta pocket. Better covered in dust than on the grass.

I saw a glimpse of a bare single room, but when the doors opened, an avalanche of children attacked Roza. I almost hit one of them, except I realized that they were hugging her neck, her legs, her waist. And Roza was hugging them back. The corners of her eyes wrinkled in a smile. I wondered what the rest of her face looked like.

Genya and I must have looked horrified.

A few children embraced Maxim, but Roza was who they cared about.

"Roza! Roza! Roza! Will you be with us today?" they all shouted.

"I am sorry, my little sobachka. I am in high demand today."

"Please, Roza?" a little girl pleaded. She was a cute tiny thing, with full cheeks and black hair in braids.

Roza doubted herself. "Well…"

"Oh, sing a damn song, Roza. You don't want to sadden those poor little faces." He winked at them and all the children pouted.

Roza groaned. "You know I can't resist it when they turn those eyes on me. Well…I suppose I'll stay, if only for a while."

They cheered, and Genya and I joined in.

"Children," Roza rumbled. "Get in your places." The kids darted as she walked over to a piano in the middle of the room. I hadn't recognized it earlier.

Roza stretched her long fingers and raised her hands. The students rose, posture perfect, and in their respective places.

"Show our guests this evening just how gifted you are." Her voice was steady and low. She played a note.

The children took deep breaths and caroled:

Jasmine flower, Jasmine flower

White and pretty in the hour

Let me pluck your silver petals

Before I go home to the kettle

Jasmine flower, Jasmine flower

Pure and perfect in the hour

Let me have your loving beauty

Before I go to home and duty

As the last note vibrated through the room, I held my breath. Not even the girls' choirs at Ravka matched this motley group of servants' offspring.

I started to clap, but Maxim shushed me abruptly.

Roza spoke. "Good preparation, children."

That was a preparation? Not even the prettiest voices and Ravka could achieve that. They sound like chickens compared to them.

"Sing joyfully, in honor of the festival of Qìngdiǎn, which you will witness soon. Alina, Genya, I hope you enjoy."

The chorus' eyes lit up. They knew what to sing. I was a tad unprepared though, for this:

Chocolate Cakes and Butter cakes and Cakes with lots of spice.
Layer cakes and Angel Cakes I think are very nice.

"So do I," Genya whispered to me. "They're making me hungry."

But when it comes to Qìngdiǎn time can anyone dispute,
that when you bake a
Qìngdiǎn cake
it really should be,
surely could be,
yes, it would be,
positively,
absolutely
must be made with fruit!

"FRUITCAKE!" Maxim yelled with them, followed by an explosion of hands.

The three of us listened to the song, Maxim occasionally speaking the part. His favorite seemed to be:

Pecans, and walnuts, and hazel nuts!
Almonds, and all other crazy nuts!

He skipped around me and Genya, arms swaying and waving. I snorted. Another long, thin figure joined in, mimicking Maxim's convulsive movements as the song progressed. Oh, so this is what Liko looks like up close. Not bad. Not bad at all.

The choir burst out the final line:

"Have…a …bite. oooffff… FRUITCAKE!" Everyone giggled joyfully at the last note, minds still in the high spirits of the music.

"How's that for holiday spirit?" Liko said.

Maxim shook his head. "It's better than those foolish church songs they sing. 'Oh, my darling Yosha died, stabbed harshly in the side. I keen and scream and yell and shriek, until my Yosha's dead with me.' How festive."

"Sorry to interrupt, but you haven't personally introduced me to your lovely guests," Liko pointed out.

Maxim rolled his eyes. "I apologize for his lack of consideration. His brain seems to dissolve in the presence of attractive woman."

"No more than you," Roza jeered, finally rid of the horde of toddlers. "Besides, Liko, you already know them."

"Not personally," Liko claimed.

I introduced myself. "My name is Alina Starkov." He picked up my hand and kissed it. "And this is Genya…" It occurred to me that I didn't know Genya's surname.

"Safin," she mentioned. "Genya Safin." Liko kissed her hand as well.

Maxim frowned. "Now look what you girls have started. He'll most likely perform a poem dedicated to your beauty. 'The splendor of her cherry lips as they brush my brow. Her lovely eyes haunt my thoughts. Something, something snow-white breasts.'"

My eyes widened.

"That was…beautiful," Liko stated. "Absolutely horrible."

Maxim puffed out his chest. "I could try a hand at poetry."

Liko ran a hand through his hair. "Try a hand, a knee, you still wouldn't succeed."

"Your personalities truly are too much," Roza interrupted.

"That's why you love us," Maxim leered.


Malyen Oretsev

I sat prone in my cot, moving only to bring the bottle to my lips. I swallowed the bitterness but didn't cough. I was used to it now.

There was stubble on my face and my eyes were red. I should have been laughing with the other trackers at our table, but I didn't have the energy to pretend.

No one was around. I let my grief swallow me whole.

Dubrov. Mikhael. Alina. I flinched as I thought of her name, which was now being whispered among the troops. The Sun Summoner. She's here to save us all.

For endless months, I'd thought she was being tortured, hurt. Little did I know, she was flirting with the royals, and being doted on like a prize lamb. Just before it was thrown into the fire.

I shuddered at the memory of the Darkling's gaze on Alina. Hungry eyes, greedy for something she possessed.

I clenched my jaw as my imagination ran ahead of me. His poisonous mouth against her delicate one. His hands groping her bare skin. Her soft sigh as he ran his fingers through her brown hair.

My hand twitched, and I felt the kvas burn my throat as it went down.

A stomping of army-issue boots sounded and Serafima broke into the tent, burning eyes disdainful.

I never gasped at a woman's beauty before, but Serafima was the exception, as she was for everything else.

"Oretsev!" she hissed. "We're all out there freezing in the Tsibeyan winter, and you're drinking in your kvas and drowning in your sorrows. Get your ass out the bed and get to work on setting up camp." Serafima was a new captain from the southern regions of Ravka. Saints know where she got her arrogance from. Her name meant burning one. At least that was an indicator.

I smirked. "If you want vomit stains on the canvas, then by all means, send me to work."

"If you hadn't sulked like a child, perhaps you wouldn't be in this situation. Would you like for me to file this as an offense?"

"No, sir."

"I am a lady, you boob. But I can't discern if you're a man or if you're an ass."

"Ladies don't curse."

"And when do you see a women who doesn't curse survive the military?"

"Point taken."

She sighed and stared at me with those kaleidoscope eyes. They seemed to change color from blue to green to brown and back again. "You were a fool to not notice her sooner," she said.

I stiffened.

She sat down on a nearby cot. "I was there at the fete, Oretsev, however briefly. I saw your love-struck eyes when you looked at Alina. Though I have to say, you picked a hell of a time to realize your feelings."

I didn't utter a word.

"Talk to me, Oretsev. You can't stay here forever."

"I can if it means I won't see you anymore." I took a swig.

Serafima snatched the bottle from my hand. She stared down at it, emotionless. "Funny, I don't see any answers at the bottom of this bottle. Who would have thought that alcohol wasn't the way to solve problems?"

"Shut up."

"You only say that because I'm right."

"The Darkling is really handsome," I said without warning.

She raised a brow. "Oretsev, I didn't know you were into that type of thing…" A smile crept into her voice.

I glared. "How attractive do you find him?"

"Is this a test? Because you know I'll pass."

"Just tell me."

Serafima yawned deliberately, and stretched her arms high above her head, as graceful as a fox. "Personally, I think he's thrice as gorgeous as you. Even more so. That—"

I put up a hand. "Say no more."

She shrugged. "You asked, I answered. My advice: the drinking doesn't help you."

"Do you think—he and Alina…" I grimaced in disgust.

Her eyes flamed. "What—you think just because a woman of power works with a man it must be that they're having an affair?" She shook her head in revulsion. "Men," she spat. "You excuse yourselves when you whore around, and we women have to be the 'pure' ones. If we have sex, we're unholy. Men have sex, and they say it's 'just in their nature'. What a load of—"

"I get it." I stammered from the crudeness of her words.

"I don't think you do." She looked down at her uniform. "I almost forgot, Colonel Raevksy is waiting for all of us by his tent. He wants to make an announcement. A very important one."

I ran a hand over my face. "Then why are you here instead of at his side like a good little lapdog?"

She scowled. "I'm not his lapdog, though he would like me to be. Anyway, my job is to inform soldiers about his upcoming statement. So unless you would like to be dishonorably discharged for not listening to orders, make yourself presentable and follow me."


So...what did you think? This is more of a filler chapter, but it has its purpose. I do this to make you happy, so let me know! Weirdly, this chapter took me the shortest time to write, even though it is ten pages.

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