To Ma, Da, Misha and Mal
A lot has happened since I last wrote to you. I don't know if you have heard I have a cult now (it's stupid, I hate it). They kidnapped me from the palace grounds. Baghra followed and helped me escape. We killed them all but one of them cut off my finger as a relic (so if you see any Sankta Alina fingerbones they might actually be real - I would like it back if possible so keep an eye out). I only tell you this so you can be on your guard. Most people don't know where I came from, but beware of anyone asking too many questions about me, or wearing a sun symbol. The Darkling has increased security here and I am followed by guards everywhere which is annoying but I am safe. Don't worry. I am fine, I promise.
Sorry for the short letter.
From Alina.
Alina was not fine, despite what she told her parents. Most nights since returning to the Little Palace she awoke screaming, her guards rushing in each time, just in case. Sometimes it took her half a minute of sheer panic to realise it was just a nightmare.
Except it hadn't just been a nightmare. It had actually happened. Her dreams were chaotic and confusing, but took her backt o being a captive. Being trapped somewhere small and dark, unable to move, suffocating and hot. A snowy forest with blood splattering the ground, often coming from her finger, pouring out without stopping; then suddenly all her fingers were gone, bloody stumps in their place. Sometimes there was a great black expanse that must have been the Fold; those dreams always ended with a crazed fanatic raising a knife at her. Or she was in a cold dungeon, watching a women be cut in half, but it was her own mother rather than Viktor's, or it was Viktor's and her friend attacked her in hatred afterwards.
She suspected that Genya knew she wasn't sleeping very well, as her friend was always there in the mornings and evenings, though aside from a few careful questions - which Alina shrugged off - they did not discuss it.
The Darkling had interrogated her after they returned, of course, though that had simply been about the facts and events that happened. Alina had told her friends the same thing too, when they asked; how she was caught, how she escaped. But she could not bring herself to say how it actually was. She didn't want them looking at her with pity, or disgust. Liked them being a welcome distraction to her own thoughts, because she couldn't get it out her head. Anger like she'd never experienced before boiling beneath the surface constantly, the sheer degradation and humilation of being a captive, and the pure fear hanging over her head every day. How she had wept when they cut off her finger, how she had enjoyed every second of killing them.
She wasn't the only one hurting, besides. Viktor didn't talk about his mother either, though Nina and Katya had both unsuccessfully tried out of concern. Even Alina had worked up the nerve to, once, because she knew her friend was about as fine as she was and didn't want him to hate her for what had happened.
"I meant what I said," He smiled bleakly at her in response. "It's not your fault. You didn't kill her. You were going to tell him to not kill her. Even if it was too late by then, it was kind of you to - to forgive what she did,"
Alina said nothing. She hadn't forgiven a thing. She was glad the woman was dead, glad for once that the Darkling had taken the choice out of her hands. Yet before she knew it, Viktor's wide smile was back and he was hitting her with a teasing joke. This behaviour wasn't necessarily false; their coping strategies were similar in that regard. They both tried to distract themselves.
With all of that to deal with, perhaps that was been why Alina was so numb to the knowledge that the Darkling was in fact over four hundred years old. That he was the Black Heretic, the demon of many a childhood story. She believed Baghra without question, because it just made sense. It didn't make him an entirely different person, in her eyes; simply filled in the blanks to give a more complete picture.
Whilst she tried far more in the classes she believed important - and paid full attention when she sat in on the Darkling's meetings - Alina simultaneously went to the other extreme. She was a better student who put in more effort, but also was more wild, more defiant, and most of all more reckless. When Yuri Vasiliev shot a ball of fire at her feet, singing her kefta, Alina responded in kind for the first time; a flare of light that gave him moderate-to-severe sunburn all over, including a collection of nasty blisters.
Despite the pain he was in, Yuri still had a nasty word for her as he was helped to the Healer's wing. "I won again, Starkova. You're the one that always gets caught," He then added with a sneer. "Work on your subtlety,"
"Is that what you really think?" She had to be held back by two oprichniki, Grigori and Arkady, to stop her flinging herself at him for the absolute audacity of that. She was the only one to get caught because she took the blame! And who was he to talk about winning? He was the one wincing every time he moved.
The Darkling was not pleased when the news reached him. "What possessed you to attack that boy?" He glared at her over his desk. "You are not a mindless thug, despite what first impressions may suggest,"
Of course he knew nothing of how Yuri liked to torment her; if she told him, the boy's punishment would be brutal. Tempting though that was, she did not enjoy being so privileged. And she could fight her own battles.
"You don't care that I attacked one boy," She tried to divert the conversation, his favourite tactic with her. "You just care what people will think. I wouldn't worry. Everyone who lives in this palace likes me far more than they like Vasiliev,"
"Be that as it may," He didn't even try to deny her claims. "People talk. If the wrong people hear, there will be consequences you will not enjoy,"
Alina was not in the mood to argue her case. Or discuss the consequences of her actions. "What do you know of consequences?" She shot back at him. "I had a fight with a spotty-faced boy. You used merzost to cleave Ravka in two with a deadly wall of shadow, killing thousands, and no one has any idea,"
Dead silence. A wave of fear and thrill went through her, similar to when she taunted her captors, goaded them into a reaction. She didn't think she had ever seen the Darkling lost for words. Yet as always, his silence made Alina uncomfortable enough that she was the one to break it; also so she did not have to consider how bad a decision telling him she knew the truth was.
"I know it's true, so don't lie," She tried to hold his stare, lifting her chin even as she slouched in the chair.
"Baghra," His tone twisted with anger. "Whatever falsehoods that hateful old hag has been filling your head with - "
"Stop it," Alina cut him off, hastily continuing as a dark eyebrow rose. "I really don't care if you made the Fold. Although you can never tell me off for stupid decisions or mistakes ever again. More importantly, Black Heretic, how old are you?"
The telling off was succesfully derailed, but had she started something worse? The Darkling stared at her for a moment longer, expression unreadable, before replying. "Four-hundred-and-fifty-four,"
"And you've been looking for a Sun Summoner all that time?" Alina snorted. "No wonder you were so pleased to find me,"
"No wonder I would slaughter anyone and everyone who even dared think about harming you," He did not smile. "No wonder I would hold you to a higher standard of behaviour than the one you are currently displaying," Of course he would find a way to bring it back round. "You are too reckless, too quick to anger and act on childish impulse,"
Her brief flash of good humour vanished, replaced with burning rage. "I was kidnapped, for two weeks, humiliated, mutilated, and had to fight my way out to avoid being murdered. I then found out that you are the villain from most Ravkan children's stories, having lied about that since I met you. And there are at least two of my kidnappers still out there, so that first promise is a lie too. Do you really think that after all that, I'd be the meek, obedient, perfect, soulless little doll you want me to be so much?"
"I would have thought you'd have learnt some humility, at least," He narrowed his eyes, voice cold. "Self preservation and restraint, perhaps. You may have avoided being captured if you possessed such qualities,"
Whilst her words had been designed to rile him, Alina felt that his were needlessly cruel. So she responded in kind, making her tone as cold as his and trying to suppress her anger. "All I learned was to trust people even less than I did already. The harmless woman leading me off into the dark. The faith, the Apparat and any who follow it. But most of all, you. I don't trust you to tell me the truth, to rescue me, or to keep me safe,"
One side of his lips twitched, which told her her words had hit their mark. "Do you remember, Alina?" The Darkling's voice was softer, more dangerous. "What I told you, years ago? That your fate here depends on you and your character,"
"You gave me three whole options," She laughed hollowly. "Become a sweet, smiling doll and sit on my arse having tea with the queen and making friends with the leeches at court. Become a mindless weapon on the battlefield to be used however you see fit. Or become the next you. I don't think I'm fit to be any of those. So your plans will have to change, because I won't,"
They stared at each other for a long while. Neither broke the silence this time, and she held his stare.
Then the Darkling let out a breath, sitting back in his chair. She took that as a victory. "There are times I wish you spoke more like most other twelve year olds, Alina. Though I suppose your life has led you to grow up fast, and not in the direction I expected. Too many conflicting influences for that, I suppose," Him. The royals, court in general. Her friends. Her family. Her enemies. Herself. "No, you are not a perfect fit for any of those paths I spoke to you of when you first came here,"
"Exactly," Alina said, with chest. "So don't try and force me - "
"In my view," He cut sharply across her, and she fell quiet. "With more training, you are quite capable of being all three. You are the most skilled in your age group in combat, both physical and using your powers, though your ability to follow orders for your own good could do with improvement. From what I have observed during and after our meetings, you have a keen political mind, though could do with thinking a lot more about consequences and act with a lot more subtlety. As for courtly relations... you speak clearly and confidently, you can command a room, you have a strong backbone and even if your temper gets the better of you at inopportune moments, you are better than many Heartrenders at detecting lies and seeing through false niceties,"
"What are you trying to say?" She narrowed her eyes, wary. "You never tell me such nice things," He had changed tactics. He often did, upon remembering that brute force of will and intimidation got nowhere with her.
The Darkling smiled at that. "Perhaps I should do so more often, though you make it a challenge. I am trying to say, Alina, that you will grow up to be formidable. Especially if you try to improve at things you are not good at, not merely the things that you are,"
"Do you want me to be formidable?" It was a good question.
"You will be regardless of what I want," He smiled. "I told you before I wanted an equal. I'll admit at the time I may not have been entirely sincere - no matter how you turned out, you would be as close to an equal to me as anyone possibly could, but even then..." He paused. "Now, though. You have more of a spine than almost anyone I've met in a very long life. If anyone could come close, it would be you,"
It was one of the most honest things he had ever said to her. Alina didn't quite know how to feel about that, and was old enough to understand some more of the implications. To her horror she felt her cheeks flush, and finally broke his stare.
To cover her embarrassment, and wipe the amused look off his face, she forced her usual grin on her face and said, "You've got more of an ego than anyone I've ever met. Come close? What if I go past you, old man?"
His reaction to that comment could have gone one of two ways. She really needed to stop deliberately trying to rile him. To her relief, he chuckled. "That is unlikely, as I am currently over thirty-five times your age. But if it were to happen, I would have to kill you, of course," He said it like a joke. Well, one of his jokes.
Her grin did not fade. "You're being very honest with me today,"
"How do you tell?" He asked, genuinely curious. "Most can't,"
"It's a secret," She got to her feet without being dismissed. "See. I'm better than you at some things already. Should I start watching my back?"
"You have been watching your back since the day I met you. Whether you should be or not,"
Combat lessons with Nina were always a joy. Despite it being one of the girl's weaker areas - and one of Alina's best - she often insisted on being partnered with her. Alina didn't question it, glad for the chance to spend more time with her friend in the only class they shared. The first time Nina beat her was when she returned to training after her kidnapping ordeal.
"How did that happen?" Nina blinked in surprise as she knelt on top of Alina, who was lying in the dirt.
"Get off, you're heavy," Alina weakly hit at her side and the girl sprang away, grin growing on her face.
"I beat you! At last!" Nina had never been that ashamed of her lack of ability in Botkin's classes compared to the rest of them. She made plenty of jokes out of it, in fact; the girl was completely shameless, as much as Alina herself, which was why they were good friends. But she was clearly both delighted and baffled to have won this time. "That's like you doing better than me in languages,"
"You're practically fluent in six languages, as if," She scoffed, though smiled at her friend's enthusiasm, getting to her feet. "You've got better. And you've grown," That was true, Nina was now very tall for their age, and more heavily built than she had herself. The girl had reach and momentum in her favour against the smaller, scrawnier Alina, who was also still weak after her captivity.
"Well if raiding the kitchens after dinner is all it takes to win against you..."
"It won't happen again," Alina said, far more motivated now, grinning. "Another round,"
"Oh, you're cocky Starkova - it would be a shame if I won again,"
It was not to be, however.
"Alina, the Darkling wishes to see you," The oprichnik Arkady interrupted them.
All of her classmates were used to her being pulled out of lessons for various reasons and barely batted an eye.
"Next time," She said threatening to Nina, who just laughed again as she left. Sweating from exertion, her body and pride slightly bruised after the fight with Nina, Alina followed the man - keeping up a steady stream of chatter - to the Darkling's wing. "What do you want now?" She strode through the door. "I was halfway through - "
Alina broke off. Nothing could have prepared her for the sight of her father, standing there in the Darkling's study.
She had not seen the man in over three years. He looked much the same as she remembered; average height, wiry build, clear blue eyes, weathered skin, brown beard flecked with premature grey, favouring his right leg over his left. Her eyes, colouring and cheekbones were her mother's, but she had his nose, his jaw, his smile, and his scowl too.
He wore new boots, and better quality clothes than she remembered; still practical and plain, but well made. She was glad her Second Army stipend was being put to good use. There was a rifle slung on his back - strange they let him keep it to see the general - and a handgun and his old hunting knife at his belt. Alina still had the knife's pair in her drawer down the corridor.
When she had been younger, her father seemed the strongest, toughest man in the world, fiercly independent, someone who did not give a damn what others thought of him. Beside the Darkling, he seemed... out of place. And short. And he was glowering at her. It took her a moment to realise why.
"Sorry, Da," She mumbled, adding hastily, "What can I do for you, moi soverenyi?"
Her father nodded in approval. The Darkling, on the other hand, blinked in abject surprise at her completely genuine polite address and respectful curtsey. Only for a moment, however.
"If that's all it took to make you remember your manners, I'd have brought your father here years ago," He said in a flat tone. "As you can see, you have an unexpected guest,"
"How - what - why are you here?" She turned to her father, still coming to terms with the fact he was here, in the Little Palace. Until this moment, her world had been divided into before the examiners had taken her away and after. This was a bizarre collision, one that she wasn't sure she liked.
Neither of them were overly affectionate. There was no sobbing reunion or clinging embraces. Neither would want anything like that.
"What did you expect me to do?" He said instead, voice rough and accented in comparison to the Darkling's cold glass tone. "You send a letter saying you were kidnapped by a cult from this place and expect me to sit tight at home?" He strode towards her and grabbed her hand, examining it. The Healers had done a fine job, but of course had not been able to replace her lost finger.
"You didn't tell anyone you were going, did you?" She asked shrewdly.
"Why would I?" He shrugged, still looking over her hand. "Your mother would have wanted to come. I'd sooner hang myself at the side of the road then travel five miles with that woman. Not to mention the Oretsev boy, that little nuisance. 'S far as they're all concerned, I'm out hunting,"
She laughed, and was surprised to find a lump in her throat. "How did you convince the guards to let you in?"
Her father scowled and said nothing.
"He climbed the walls late last night," The Darkling said. "But made the mistake of choosing the Little Palace side. The oprichniki caught him and put him in a cell when he said he knew you. I was just alerted this morning,"
Alina couldn't help but laugh again. "Da, you should've gone for the Grand Palace side, their guards are terrible. You're lucky the oprichniki didn't shoot first, after seeing that rifle. And that they gave it back,"
"I got further than he lets on," Her father said. "No wonder you got kidnapped, Lina,"
"Did it not occur to you to use the gates?" The Darkling asked delicately. He did not like his guards criticised, nor a reminder that Alina had been taken from under his nose.
"You fancy folk never would've let me in no matter who I claimed to know," He said, which was likely true. Alina would not trust the Darkling to let her father in even knowing who he was. Especially knowing who he was. "I'm here now, aren't I?"
"You are," Alina grinned. "Da, let me show you around. You'll hate this place. And think I'm a right snob for living here. But I haven't put on any airs and graces, I promise,"
"Certainly not graces," The Darkling said.
She shot him a glare, summoning her light and moulding it into an intricate scene; her old house in Temgora, the trees behind swaying in the wind, birds flying above. Her father's eyes did not widen, but they did fix on what she had conjured intensely.
"Can you do anything more than pretty pictures?" He did not sound scornful.
"I can fight," She said. "Remember I told you that Fjerdans attacked us after I left Temgora? I killed eight of them with light. It gets hot. Burns,"
"Useful," Her father said, as much a compliment as he would give her. "How come you got kidnapped, then?"
"I made a stupid mistake," She scowled. "They caught me off guard and drugged me. Then shackled my hands apart. I can't do it if I can't move my hands,"
He was silent at that, thinking. Then, "You look good. Healthy,"
"Using Grisha powers makes you healthy,"
"Course it does," There was a note of disdain there. "Nothing to do with living like a bloody princess,"
"I'm not a bloody princess," She snapped back. "I just get enough food, unlike at home,"
"I'm your father, watch your fucking tongue," He glared, and that was all it took for her to fall silent at once, staring at her feet.
"Sorry Da,"
There was a pause. "Glad they haven't beaten your spirit out of you. Show respect to family and your betters - those that can punish you, that is - but sod everyone else. Can't have many betters left now, can you? Seeing as you're the Sun Summoner,"
She dared a hint of a smile. "I'm glad you think so,"
Her father gave a snort of rough laughter. "Don't let that go to your head,"
Both of them turned to the Darkling at the same time.
"Can I be excused from lessons for today?" Alina asked. "And can he have a room to stay in? Anything would do. Sleeping on the floor of the kitchens would be luxury compared to Temgora,"
"Don't bother the general with that rubbish, Lina," Her father scowled and it was like looking in a mirror. "I'll sleep in the stables, I'll do better outside. It's unnatural, having this many floors in a building,"
The Darkling called Arkady in from outside the door regardless and requested a guest room be made up. She got the impression that he was rather nonplussed by the whole situation. In the meantime Alina showed her father everything in the Little Palace. He scoffed at the finery, especially the golden dome of the dining hall, but seemed intruiged by it all regardless.
"Misha would think he'd died and gone to heaven here," He said when they entered the library, Alina greeting Konstantin warmly.
"So he really does like to read then?" She grinned.
"You were more of a son than he is," He grumbled, but there was no real malice in it. "Spends all his free time with his nose in a book, or writing something. Hates hunting and being outside,"
"He could end up with a good job, though," Alina said. "Ask him if he wants to come here when he's old enough. I'm friends with Prince Nikolai, remember - he could easily find him a place somewhere he'll end up rich,"
"Hm," Her father frowned, but did not shut her down right away. "If he carries on the way he's going, he won't be much use at anything in the village. Don't like the idea of being indebted to a prince though, mind. Don't much like you being tangled up with that sort either. What's stopping a prince taking advantage of any girl what takes his fancy?"
"The Darkling would cut anyone who tried anything like that with me in half, prince or not," She said, knowing it was true. "Nikolai's not like that, anyway,"
"Hm," He said again, frowning in earnest but not elaborating. "Your voice has changed,"
"Not that much," She protested. "I hardly sound like a noble," Nikolai and Viktor both had a distinct upper class accent, which they all teased them for; Nikolai embraced it, Viktor told them to shove off. Genya was not quite that level, but still sounded prim and proper, having been here since she was five. Katya's voice was as common as her own; both of them had come from very poor backgrounds. Nina and Zoya sounded slightly more refined, for different reasons; Nina had come to the Little Palace much younger, and Zoya was naturally haughty.
"True enough. It's still changed,"
And compared to his voice, she supposed it had. No doubt it would stand out if she ever returned to the Dva Stolba valley. Alina wasn't sure how to feel about that. There was a pause.
"Oh!" She remembered something. "Do you want your leg healed? Fully healed?"
That startled him. "What?"
"The Grisha Healers do better work in person than with that ointment I send you. It might not be perfect, but they can make it a lot better,"
Her father was silent for a long moment.
"I haven't got much money with me. Didn't want it to get robbed," No, he would rather sleep rough every night and hunt than pay for an inn or supplies.
"Doesn't matter," She said, taking him by the arm. "It'll take them less than an hour. And there hasn't been a battle recently, they're not very busy,"
It was Sofia Novikova herself who examined her father's leg. She didn't do much actual healing nowdays, busy as she was, but had been an expert in injuries that had healed poorly. Her father was distrustful at first but seemed to respond well to the Healer's direct, no-nonsense nature answering questions about the injury and remaining stock still whilst it was examined.
Sofia explained what she was going to do remarkably well. How much of it her father understood, Alina wasn't sure, but it was said in relatively simple terms, along with how much pain to expect. Sofia had seen and dealt with plenty of injuries like this before; they were common in battle. No fuss, practical and direct. Just how her father liked things.
The man barely flinched throughout the whole procedure. There had been some numbing ointment applied to the leg, but it took some nerve to watch closely as the Healer opened up his leg and began messing around with the muscles, bones and ligaments inside.
"You're to stay off it for two days," Sofia said, the words or else going unsaid. "Bed rest, without any exceptions. Then you may walk using crutches, with daily therapy sessions, though it will take a week to be fully useable,"
Alina came to see him whenever her classes allowed. Despite the fact she knew her father was perfectly content in his own company, he would definitely be bored stuck in bed all day. She was surprised to see him flicking through the pages of a book when she visited that first evening. The man could barely read.
"It's got lots of pictures," He grunted in response to her raised eyebrow. "That stern old Healer got angry I kept trying to get up, so gave me this. Better than just sitting here festering,"
"Saints, Da, you'll go mad doing that all day," She pulled a face. "I've brought your gun and a proper polishing kit, and a carving knife and some wood from the Fabrikator's workshops,"
His eyes lit up. "Give them here," The picture book was abandoned in an instant, and she grinned, sitting down on the chair next to the bed and setting her offerings on the nearby table. "You're a good girl, Lina. Somehow,"
"Somehow? You raised me," She shrugged.
But his eyes had fixed on her attire, and she realised this was the first time he'd seen her in a kefta. "No one else wears black, except you and him,"
"There's no one else who can summon shadow or light. That's what he says, anyway. I'd rather wear summoner's blue. Or even white - it's a servant's colour, but it would make a statement," Alina wanted to do that, now. If nothing else, to show support to Genya. "Although I do look better in black,"
"Is that what he says?"
"What?"
"Bah," Her father picked up his carving knife and the block of wood. "Never mind. Get back to your lessons,"
Alina went, because she was late, but wondered what he meant by that for a while afterwards.
Her father was supposed to take it easy, his first day on his newly repaired leg, so Alina helped him to the quieter lakeside. She didn't want to introduce him to her friends. Firstly because he was a miserable bastard and didn't take kindly to new people; he would find Nina and Viktor irritating, would clash with Zoya and Katya would not dare speak a word to him. Second, because she didn't want it to seem like she was flaunting her father in Viktor's face when they had both seen his own mother cut in half not that long ago.
"It worked," Dmitri Starkov said after they sat down in the grass, as close to wonder as she had ever heard him. "It bloody worked,"
"I told you," She said, but grinned. "I'm glad,"
"Oi. Starkova!"
Her stomach dropped at the familiar voice. "Fuck off," She called back without turning around. He wouldn't normally make her twist inside like that - she normally was raring for a fight - but her father was here and saints only knew how that would go.
Yuri Vasiliev just laughed. "Have you found another old man to entertain, Alina?"
Alina was on her feet in an instant. And so was her father, his hunting knife in hand, which made her stop and think for a second. "No, Da," She said to him. "You don't want to spend another three days in bed fixing your leg after straining it getting involved in a schoolyard fight," You don't want to spend weeks in the dungeons after killing a young Grisha either. Or a coffin, after getting on the wrong side of an Inferni.
The man gritted his teeth but lowered his knife. "Don't show me up," Was all he said.
She needed no encouragement, turning back to Yuri with acid already on her tongue. "He's my father, you sick bastard. If you say another fucking word I'll burn you again, and this time I won't stop at blisters - I'll burn a hole right through your fucking hand," I've killed more people than I can count already.
"Steady on," He laughed, as though she was overreacting. His two friends laughed as well. Alina hated when he did that. "Don't make threats you won't follow up on. We both know you don't want to be in even more trouble with the Darkling. What is it he does to you when you get dragged off to his study, anyway?" The leer in his tone suggested he knew exactly what. He turned to her father. "If she were my daughter or sister, sir, I'd take her as far from here as possible,"
"Shut your mouth," Alina snapped. "The amount of shit spilling from it is ruining the fresh air," She could tell him that if she went to the Darkling right now she could quite possibly end his life - certainly get him removed from the Little Palace - but did not want to hide behind someone more powerful than she was like that. Not least her father may possibly disown her for doing something so cowardly.
"Are you proud, Mr Starkov?" Yuri sneered. "Your daughter swears like a sailor and plays whore for the general of the Second Army himself,"
Her father laughed darkly. He didn't have the same commanding aura the Darkling did, but his rough looks, savage smile and dark, wild stare was enough to unnerve whoever it was aimed at. "Call her a whore again, boy, try it. Grisha or not, I'd gut you like a deer,"
The venom took Yuri aback slightly, though he recovered his swagger quickly enough. "Of course your father would be a feral brodyaga, Starkova,"
"Your father was a blacksmith not a duke, Yuri. Get over yourself and fuck off to bother someone else," Alina was weary of this conversation. "The six-year-olds finish lessons around this time - they're your prime targets, aren't they?"
"Funny," He smiled. "At least - "
He broke off abruptly. Alina turned around to see none other than the Darkling walking towards them, flanked by two guards. She laughed sourly as Yuri stepped back, face pale. "Brave, aren't you?"
"Leave us," The Darkling barely glanced at the boys, who all scurried off without any encouragement. He likely didn't even know Yuri was the one Alina had burnt the other day. "Alina, the king has requested your presence. Immediately. It won't be anything of importance - he has ambassadors visiting and likely wants to show you off in a private audience," His tone belied exactly how pleased he was about that.
"You're coming too?" She asked before she could stop herself. "I just - " She broke off, not wanting him to know about his abuse of Genya when her friend had specifically asked her not to tell him. "I've heard things,"
"Of course," His eyes darkened.
"That's it?" Her father asked. "The king calls and you all run off to perform like dancing monkeys? Alina, you're not a circus freak,"
The Darkling gritted his teeth; those were his own exact views, but no doubt hearing them from someone else (a commoner, no less) rankled. Alina hastily stepped in. "Well I can't really say no. He is the king,"
"I s'pose," Her father grunted, not missing that Alina took the Darkling's offered arm. "Find me when it's over," And with that he walked off, towards the forest. Alina didn't take it personally. He got restless if he was inside for too long.
The audience with the king was exactly as the Darkling had predicted. Mindless, somewhat degrading and deathly dull. Alina met her father in the forest afterwards as promised.
"I don't like the way that man looks at you sometimes," Her father told her as they wandered through the woods later in the evening.
"How do you mean?" She knew what he meant, though.
"Hungry. Like a wolf eyeing up a sheep,"
"He's been looking for a Sun Summoner his whole life," She said. "You haven't seen him look at me like he wants to strangle me, yet. He does that a lot too. But I'm more scared of you than I am of him,"
"He hasn't locked you in enough cupboards,"
"I'd genuinely kill him if he tried, after I was locked in a box for two weeks by that cult," She scowled. "That was cruel, you know, to shut me away like that when you knew I was scared. And to almost drown me. They don't do that here,"
"Perhaps," He shrugged. "The world is cruel, Lina. It toughened you up more than half the pampered brats here, seems like,"
"It did," She said. "It also gave me a crippling fear of small spaces and bathtubs,"
He was silent for a long moment.
"Why do your chambers have to be so close to his?" Just like him to change the subject when he got tired of a conversation. He wasn't one to admit he had been wrong; likely he didn't think he was.
"Because he's the scariest thing in the Little Palace and no potential kidnapper is going to steal me away with him down the hall,"
"Hm," He did not sound satisfied. "Lock your door at night when you get older,"
"What do you mean by that?" Her eyes narrowed. "You're starting to sound like the gossiping harpies that flit around the queen,"
"Saints, Lina, I'm not spelling it out for you what happens when a man decides he wants a girl. You said the Darkling would stop any man who tried to touch you - who is there to stop him?"
"It's not like that," She said. "I'm twelve, Da,"
"My parents married when my mother was fifteen and my father was seventeen," He shrugged. "But I tell you now, he never looked at her with anywhere near as much interest as that man looks at you,"
"He looks at me like that because I'm very useful to him," She said. "He's needed a Sun Summoner for decades," Centuries.
"What for, eh?"
"A weapon. To fight against the Shu and Fjerdans. To bring down the Fold, eventually," But she remembered Baghra's words from two years ago, when she had overheard a conversation not meant for her ears. "He wouldn't try anything like that, even if he wanted to, which he doesn't. He knows I'd run away the first chance I got. I can turn myself invisible now, remember,"
Her father was silent.
"Just stay on guard, Lina," He said. "I've seen the way you look at him, too. If I didn't think you'd be hunted down by Shu raiders within a month of leaving this place, I'd take you back home with me tomorrow,"
"What do you mean the way I look at him?" She snapped, angry, but he had already gotten up to leave.
Her father left on foot from the Little Palace a week after he arrived. He had been offered a horse, but refused, claiming it would only get robbed, though it was clear he had not wanted to accept anything from the Darkling. Stubborness and pride aside, Alina suspected he just enjoyed walking on his newly cured leg.
Dmitri Starkov hesitated before he set off, at the bottom of the palace steps. Alina was stood at the top with the Darkling's hand on her shoulder, watching him go. Something strange seemed to cross her father's face at the sight of them, then.
"What is it?" She asked.
He was silent for a moment, looking between them, then shook his head.
"So long as you're safe," He muttered, then turned away and carried on, the start of a very long walk. He did not turn around again.
I can't lie, I loved writing this chapter. Obviously Alina's father is not the best father in the world - he did effectively abuse his daughter, even if he thought it was a fitting punishment - but he does care for her, and I hope their interactions explained why Alina is as she is. It was interesting drawing parallels between him and the Darkling, as well as his view as an outsider of the whole situation. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!
