"Shall we?" The Darkling motioned toward his black coach.

"Are we not riding on horseback?" I asked.

"I won't risk a Fjerdan spy spotting us. My coach often travels back and forth empty, so it won't appear conspicuous," he explained as he helped me climb in. With Zoya's gaze feeling like a weight on my back, a small sense of satisfaction washed over me as the coach began moving.

"Why is your coach often travelling empty?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"So the Fjerdan army can never know where I might appear," he explained. "It keeps them on edge, less confident, and constantly in doubt."

"Are they really that scared of you?"

"You tell me," he replied. "Didn't you say that every Fjerdan child knows what my coach looks like? I believe you described it as an embodiment of evil," he said with a touch of amusement.

"Well… all Grisha are considered abominations in Fjerda, but the more powerful the Grisha, the more evil they're believed to be, so everyone is very… aware of you," I explained with a shrug. "I used to draw pictures of it when I was little," I smiled. "The black coach with the eclipse carved on its door... I never saw it, but my parents told me about it. They said I must hide if I ever see it because it belongs to the most devilish witch in Ravka - the Vronche," I shrugged again. "But I secretly dreamt of meeting you."

He seemed intrigued by my confession. "Were you not scared?" he asked, his eyebrows rising slightly. I thought about it for a moment before answering.

"Of course I was. Terrified. In a way I still am," I chuckled. "But… You were the only other shadow summoner I knew of. I wanted to believe that you aren't evil. That Grisha aren't evil…" I mindlessly fiddled with the ring on my hand, lost in thought.
"I loved my parents, but… it wasn't easy. I used to imagine that you suddenly appeared in front of our house and took me to your shadow land where nobody could hurt me anymore," I snickered in embarrassment.
Why am I telling him this?! To my surprise, he was smiling, visibly amused by my confession.

"That is very endearing," he chuckled. "What do you believe now? What is your verdict?"

"What do you mean?"

"Am I evil?" He asked, raising one eyebrow questioningly.

"The jury is still out," I gave him a roguish smile and he chuckled.

We rode in silence for a while, the rhythmic sound of horse hooves and the creaking of the coach wheels filling the air. Unconsciously, I began to fiddle with the ring on my hand, my mind racing with questions I wanted to ask him. But before I could gather my thoughts, he beat me to it.

"When I left the coach on our way to the Grand Palace… What was your conversation with Genya all about?" He asked, turning back to me.

I hesitated. "We only had a friendly chat, just like she said."

"Is a mere friendly chat usually enough to leave you visibly stunned?" His eyes narrowed. "I don't recommend lying to me, Klara," he added with a hint of menace.

"Well… I guess… I just don't want to tell you," I admitted.

"I gathered as much. You know, I could order you to tell me. You are a Grisha in Ravka now, which puts you under my command."

"Hmm… I suppose you could, but… I've never been great at obediently following authorities," I grinned.

"Is that so? I hadn't noticed," he quipped, a faint trace of a smile touching his lips.

"Let's say you would command me and I didn't obey you. What would happen then?" I asked and he tilted his head slightly to the side and his eyes narrowed. "Would you call for Ivan to stop my heart? Send me back to Fjerda? Bent me over your knee and beat the disobedience out of me?" I played.

He lifted his chin slightly, looking down at me, his face remaining composed. "Is that what you think I do to disobedient Grisha? Or is that what you wish I had done to you?" His words hung in the air, each one charged with tension that sent a rush of heat through me. I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could say a single word, he continued in a calm, measured tone: "How remarkably tempting."

I quickly looked away, overcome by embarrassment. I had intended to be a bit playful and flirty, but I wasn't prepared for such an intense response. I looked out of the window, my cheeks flushed, feeling embarrassed and flustered.

The coach rolled on, carrying us through the countryside and as the wheels turned, the road gradually transformed into a dusty trail. The taste of the kvas I had shared with Eskil still tingled on my tongue and my eyelids started to grow heavy. The steady rhythm of the coach, the warmth of my kefta, the plush seat underneath me and the exhaustion from the day's events all conspired to make me feel incredibly sleepy.

"Klara," a soft voice called out, rousing me from the edge of sleep. I blinked and saw the Darkling sitting next to me, his hand on my shoulder.

"I'm… I'm sorry, did I fall asleep?" I mumbled, still half-lucid.

"That's okay, meeting the king can be quite exhausting," he replied with a gentle smile. His face was unnervingly close to mine, but his hand on my shoulder felt surprisingly reassuring. His scent was intoxicating, and I felt myself getting lost in his eyes. His palm still lingered on my shoulder as he cupped my face with the other hand. His breath brushed against my cheek as he leaned closer to my face... My heart raced as I closed my eyes, anticipating his lips on mine. Is this really happening? But just as our lips were about to meet, a sudden jolt from the coach threw me forward, breaking the spell.
I blinked in confusion, the remnants of that dreamlike moment with the Darkling fading away. He sat across from me, engrossed in his documents and leather notebook, as though he had been working the entire time.

"What... How did you... you were right…" I glanced at the empty space beside me, and my cheeks burned with embarrassment as I realised none of it had been real. My heart raced, not from excitement this time, but from sheer awkwardness.

The Darkling searched my face, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed the crimson hue on my cheeks. He chuckled.
"Did you... dream of something, Klara?" he raised an amused eyebrow. "You look rather… flushed and confused." Can he read my fucking mind?!

"No," I lied quickly, my embarrassment deepening. "I was just…" I desperately searched for something else to talk about. "How long did I sleep for?"

"For a while," he replied, gazing out of the window. "In fact, I think it's about time we took a little break." He tapped the top of the coach, and it came to a stop. "Ivan, any unfamiliar heartbeats around?" he called to his Heartrender.

...

I breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped out of the coach, grateful for the chance to stretch my legs and escape my embarrassment. None of this would have happened if he hadn't shamelessly flirted with me before I dozed off! Spotting Eskil and Alisa, I gratefully left the Darkling's company with the excuse of talking to them.

"Are you alright?" Eskil asked, concern in his eyes. "You look… flushed."

"You are blushing!" Alisa exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Wait… did something happen?" She leaned in closer, eager to hear any gossip.

"No!" I protested, my cheeks still warm. "I'm just tired. I slept through most of the journey."

"Lucky you," Alisa sighed. "I would kill for a nap. But I definitely wouldn't fall asleep with the Darkling in the same coach," she teased, causing me to blush even more.

My heart still raced from the vivid, almost real dream, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment that it had all been in my head. Get yourself together you pathetic swooning idiot! I felt so embarrassed by my own reactions. I knew I couldn't control what I dreamt of, but the fact that I was sad it hadn't actually happened angered me. I cleared my throat and forced a small smile. "Well, it was a rather tiring day. I guess the excitement caught up with me."

As we chatted, I couldn't help but steal a glance back at the Darkling, who stood by the coach, engaged in conversation with Ivan and another Heartrender whose name I didn't know. His eyes briefly met mine, and I quickly turned away, feeling my cheeks flush again. It was going to be a long journey to Ulensk.

Deep in thought, I noticed the Grisha around me mounting their horses. My companion was already waiting next to his coach, holding the door open for me. With a sigh, I stepped inside, and we soon resumed our journey. As the landscape rolled by, I couldn't help but steal a glance at him. His face was buried in his papers, and he seemed entirely focused on his work. There was no trace of the flirtatious moment I had imagined earlier.

"May I ask you something?" I finally gathered the courage to break the silence.

He looked up from his documents, meeting my gaze with an arched eyebrow. "If my memory serves me correctly, you didn't answer the last question I asked you. So you won't answer what I ask you, but you still demand answers yourself?" His voice held a playful tone.

"Precisely," I smiled, feeling sure on my feet again. "May I?"

"Would it stop you if I said no?"

"No," I shrugged.

"Then you have left me with little choice," he nodded with an amused glint.

"I was wondering... Why did you have the T'ma suit built? I heard it was constructed a while ago and has been vacant ever since... It appears tailor-made for a shadow summoner."

"That's because it was," he confirmed, his eyes fixed on mine. "It was made for you."

I furrowed my brows, taken aback. "What? But... how did you..."

"I had it built for you, my long-lost sister, whom I spent years searching for."

My jaw practically hit the floor. Sister?! But he insisted we weren't related! What does this mean? Are my parents not really my parents? Has everything I thought I knew been a lie?

"No, that's not quite right, is it?" he went on, trying to gauge my reaction. "Was it really a sister? Now that I think about it, maybe I heard of a female descendant of a Fjerdan lineage of shadow summoners, and I thought she'd make a fine match... Or could it have been some ancient prophecy?" A mischievous smile curved his lips.

I buried my face in my hands, comprehension dawning on me as I started to laugh.

"Shame on you," I said, his laughter mingling with mine. It was the first time I had heard him genuinely laugh, and the deep, dark sound resonated within me.

"Do you think I don't keep myself informed of the rumours circulating around?" he asked with amusement. "Which version is your favourite?"

"They're all absurd," I chuckled, relief evident in my voice. "So, I suppose you won't tell me the actual truth then?"

"It's far less exciting than the rumours, I'm afraid," he shrugged. "I had it built for someone else, but she wasn't interested," he continued casually. "Hence its vacancy."

She? A brief twinge of jealousy flickered within me, but I quickly pushed it aside. Marie would be thrilled. I guessed the suit was intended for his bride after all; why else would it bear his colors?

"Did you not like it?" he inquired, studying my expression.

"I loved it."

"Good," he nodded. "The one in Kyrsk is almost identical. Coincidentally, of course," he added with a lingering smile.

"May I have another question?" I inquired, not waiting for a response before continuing. "Back in the palace, when the king wanted a demonstration and you amplified me… Did you… feel it too?"

"What do you mean?"

"I was hoping you could tell me," I shrugged. "It was somehow… different. It felt stronger, like I was hit by a lightning bolt and I felt-"

"I just amplified you, just as I did before. What you felt was probably just the adrenaline of meeting the royal family," he brushed me off and continued before I could protest. "It is my turn to ask questions now."

His expression remained inscrutable, and I knew better than to argue with him, so I fell silent.

"Do you miss Fjerda?"

"I suppose I do, in a way... Why do you ask?"

"In what way?" He prodded.

"I grew up there," I replied, shrugging. "It was my only home, no matter how inhospitable it may have been... I miss the animals I left behind, the scent of the spruce forest, the tranquillity, the solitude, and the simplicity. But I wouldn't want to return, even if I had the chance," I added firmly. "I know I have a better life ahead of me here."

"I'm pleased to hear that you see it that way," The Darkling smiled. "Is your nostalgia for Fjerda the reason for your close relationship with the Fjerdan Squaller?"

"Eskil? Perhaps. I hadn't really considered it. He's just... a wonderful person. I feel like I can be myself when I'm with him."

"So you have to pretend with everyone else?"

"Of course I do!" I laughed. "Don't you?"

He answered with a soft smile.

"I do," he nodded. "I always have," he said, his face growing more serious as I mustered the courage to ask the question that's been bothering me for a long time, but always felt too personal to ask.

"How old are you?" I blurted out.

He appeared genuinely shocked for a split second before calmly responding, "I don't know exactly."

"How can you not know?" I chuckled.

"You stop counting after a while," he shrugged nonchalantly, as if it were an insignificant detail.

"Is it... more than..." I playfully exaggerated, "...a century?" I raised an eyebrow with a teasing smile.

"Yes, it is more than that," he confirmed, his expression remaining serious.

"What?" I gasped in disbelief. "That's impossible!"

"Is it?" he challenged, raising an eyebrow in return. "I wasn't aware you were an expert on Grisha lifespans."

"I… I thought you were joking the other day when you said centuries!" I stumbled. "You look… barely thirty!"

He chuckled. "The length of a Grisha's life is proportional to their power. The greater the power, the longer the life," he explained, shrugging. I tried to hide my awe. If he had lived over a century, then he must be incredibly powerful. I had heard stories about him since I was a child, but a century? It was staggering.

"How much over a century?"

"How old are you, Klara?" He countered.

"Old enough to notice when someone is avoiding the answer."

"Well, I guess I just don't want to tell you," the Darkling chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"But I…" I began to protest, but he cut me off.

"We can continue this conversation later," he declared as the coach came to a stop beneath the golden inscription "Sankta Anastasia." I sighed in frustration. This was the second time our conversation had been abruptly cut short today, just as I was delving into something intriguing.

…

"How was the rest of the drive?" Eskil asked me at the dinner.

I tried to appear nonchalant as I answered, "It was fine." Alisa, however, immediately sensed that there was more to the story.

"Did you get anything new out of him? Did you ask about the T'ma suit? Are you-"

"Oh for Saints' sake, Alisa!" Eskil sighed, cutting her off. "Just leave it," he shook his head, giving her a playful nudge.

"Oh come on, you must admit that they are perfect for each other! They're practically meant to be- OUCH!" She yelped as Eskil elbowed her in the ribs before she could continue. "Alright, alright," she laughed, rubbing her side. "I'll stop. I wish Nadia and Marie were here. They would understand," she added sighing wistfully.

"We… didn't talk much," I lied. It didn't feel right to share our conversation with them, no matter how much I trusted them.

"You seem to have quite the appetite tonight," Eskil changed the topic, noticing my eagerness to dig into the food.

"I love fish," I explained. "It's not quite like Sursild, but it's still delicious."

"I miss Fjerdan food too," he nodded. "That's why I love staying in Ulensk. Being so close to the border, we often get to enjoy some Fjerdan dishes. You will love it there."

Alisa playfully interjected, "Oh, come on! Fjerdan food isn't that exciting. You practically survive on fish alone!"

"Watch your words, Alisa," I teased back.

"You are outnumbered here," Eskil added with a chuckle. "I'm friendly with our chef in Ulensk, if he lets me, I'll cook for you." he said, turning back to me. "I make the best Fiskekaker."

"Fish… cake?" Alisa's mouth twisted in disgust. "You guys are weird."

Eskil and I burst into laughter, our mirth filling the air as I felt the weight of the Darkling's gaze on me from his own table, where he sat with his most trusted Oprichniki and Heartrenders.

"I guess you will spend a lot more time with the Darkling now. He apparently wants to be in charge of all of your training."

"Are you excited?" Alisa asked.

"I guess..." I replied hesitantly. "It's good to train with another shadow summoner, but… I'm always so worried I'll screw up. I… I just don't want to disappoint him." I said honestly. "And if he decides to overview the rest of my training as well, the pressure will be even bigger. To be honest, I'm really worried."

"I don't blame you!" Eskil nodded. "I'd be shitting myself if I was supposed to train with him. And combat training with him will be insane! I mean… It's challenging enough with Botkin, but he always talked about the Darkling as if he were invincible, like a god. I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't survive that," he teased with a playful grin.

"Eskil!" Alisa chided him, playfully swatting his arm. "You're not helping. I'm sure you'll do great," she said, giving me an encouraging smile.

…

After dinner, I headed to my room. The night was unusually warm, so I opened the window to let in the cool breeze. It was the same room I stayed in on our way to Os Alta. So much had happened since then, it felt like a lifetime ago. As I sat by the window, I couldn't help but replay the day's events in my mind. Meeting the king and the strange Apparat character who insisted I am a new black heretic would be stressful enough, even without learning I have to yet again move to a completely new place. And then the ride...

After a relaxing bath and changing into my comfy pyjamas, I settled into an armchair to catch up on the history book I had been neglecting lately. The stories were captivating, but my thoughts stubbornly drifted back to my conversation with the Darkling. Could he truly be over a hundred years old? While it wasn't uncommon for Grisha to live for a century or more, they still aged. He appeared to be barely thirty, so if he were indeed a hundred years old, he could potentially live for another two or three centuries. What if he is even older?

After a brief hesitation, I stood up and slid out of my room into the dark hall. I didn't feel like our conversation had reached its end. I had no issue finding the door next to mine but as I reached my hand to knock, I hesitated. What are you even doing? This is a bad idea. Remember what Genya told you. He is not your friend and he is not your equal. He is your superior and you should-
I froze as the door suddenly opened. He wore the same satin dressing gown as the last time and the fire in the fireplace behind him pleasantly cracked.
"Were you planning to knock, or did you intend to stand here the whole night?" he inquired, a faint smile tugging at his lips.