Disclaimer: I don't own the Grisha Trilogy and its characters – it belongs to Leigh Bardugo. I do not own the Shadow & Bone TV series, which was developed by Eric Heisserer for Netflix and based on Leigh Bardugo's books. Any recognisable dialogue is from the books or TV show – some lines may be included verbatim, others in an amended form.

Questioning

Alina has just got in the Uber when her phone starts to ring.

She presses the ignore button and stares out of the window.

Her phone rings again. Ignore. Again. Ignore. Again. Ignore.

Again.

"I'm fine, Genya," she sighs into the phone, "just on my way back to campus."

"I'm really sorry about leaving you alone with Sasha. I hope he didn't upset you."

He'd made her mad, more than anything, but that isn't Genya's fault.

"It's fine," she says, "I … I guess I'll see you tomorrow or something."

She ends the call quickly and wonders what will happen now.

It was so easy and effortless with Genya before now, a relief for Alina, who has always struggled with making friends.

But, surely, she can't pretend that tonight hasn't happened, that she and Genya haven't both learnt something about each other that they were unaware of.

And, Saints, if the Apparat discovers where she's been, then he'll be furious. People were taking selfies and photos during and after the speeches – if Alina is spotted in one of those then it'll be an absolute disaster.

The Apparat.

Morozov said a lot about him, disdainful and rude.

Alina wonders if it's true.

But no, the Apparat is a religious man, a follower of the saints, charitable and holy. Surely, he can't be as bad as Morozov and his people suggested.

Yes, he lives in luxury, and he has a nice car (two, in fact), and he takes long holidays to his Balakirev dacha and Shu Han summer home each year, but … well … he does a lot of good too.

He's always telling Alina about his fundraising and the speeches he gives and the conferences he attends and how fervently he spreads the message of the saints.

Yes, the Apparat must be a good man. He'd plucked Alina from obscurity as a child and given her a purpose, something more in her life than the miserable lot that usually belonged to poor orphans.

And poor Nikolai, he certainly doesn't deserve what Morozov and his cronies said about him.

Pyotr and Vasily were awful. Alina is glad that they are exiled to a country house, never allowed in the capital. But Nikolai is different.

He is.

Change doesn't happen immediately, after all. She's sure Nikolai wants to do more, but he's got to work within the system.

And the suggestion that Nikolai wants to marry her is absolutely bizarre. He'll want to marry for love, of course, not to try and get support.

It's true that she has been invited to more events than usual recently, and that there have been a lot of photo opportunities with Nikolai, but Alina is sure that's just a coincidence.

Morozov is obviously wrong.

Alina uses one of the library computers to comb social media websites over the next few days, looking at accounts she'd usually avoid to check what photos have been posted from Morozov's event.

Thankfully, while there are lots of Morozov, and a few with Genya's distinctive red hair, Alina appears to have flown under the radar. There are some of the back of her head, but nothing identifiable, especially as she's so much more dressed down than she usually is in her public appearances.

No one will know she was there unless Morozov himself announces it. While it would certainly get people talking about the event, and be something of a coup for him to tar her image, considering her close connection to the Apparat, she gets the feeling that it isn't Morozov's style. He was happy enough to argue with her, but he seemed to want her to reflect on his words of her own volition, not to publicly embarrass her.

Morozov's views might be awfully misguided, but at least he does not seem to be a complete monster.

And, despite her desire to forget about the meeting, Alina finds herself thinking constantly about what Morozov had said.

It's a test, she thinks, a test of her faith.

The saints are trying to tell her that she needs to take a stand, to refute Morozov's allegations before they taint the reputations of Nikolai and the Apparat any further.

Unfortunately, to properly argue against Morozov, she needs to understand his claims.

She has to learn more. After all, don't they say that you should know your enemy?

And for that, she needs Genya.

She hasn't seen her friend since the event, and hasn't spoken to her apart from their brief, awkward phone call.

But now she knocks on Genya's door and twists her hands nervously as she waits.

"Alina!" Genya gives her a shy smile, "come in."

"I …" Alina says, "I wondered if I could borrow your laptop."

Genya's brow furrows in confusion, "but yours is top of the line. Mine is pretty slow."

"I just … I wanted … I wanted to look up some more of your cousin's speeches. On Youtube or something. And the Apparat, well he has parental controls on my internet access."

"That's terrible," Genya looks appalled, "such an invasion of privacy."

"I don't mind, usually," Alina insists.

"Alina, that … that's messed up of him."

She just shrugs. There isn't much to say because she's never known any differently. She's used to the Apparat and his team managing her social media and her schedule, telling her what styles to wear and the websites she's allowed to visit and the books she should avoid.

"Anyway, I thought you didn't like what Sasha spoke about."

"It's important to know both sides to be able to present an effective argument," Alina says, "but the Apparat might … get the wrong impression if I search those videos on my laptop."

Genya stares at her for a moment, brow furrowed in something that looks like concern.

"Sure," the redhead says then, "I'm going to the lab anyway and I won't be using it. David asked me to come and watch him do some experiments. Well … he didn't say no when I asked if I could, but it's basically the same thing."

It's quite sweet, Alina thinks, the way Genya blushes. She's usually so cool and confident with boys, so she must really like David.

"Thanks, Gen," Alina smiles in relief, glad it isn't too awkward between them.

-x-x-x-

When Genya returns four hours later, Alina is still watching video clips.

"Are you ok, Alina?"

"Huh?" Alina looks away from the screen and over at Genya.

"Have you been watching videos this whole time? And making … notes?"

Alina looks down self-consciously at the notebook on the desk, where she's been frantically writing while she watches the video. Her handwriting had been neat to begin with, but the more recent notes are nearly illegible.

"I had a lot of thoughts," she mutters.

"Well, do you want to talk about it?"

Alina shakes her head, "that's kind of you, Gen, but I … I need to think about this by myself."

"Alright," Genya gives her a soft smile, "but I'm always here, if you want to talk."

"Thanks. I appreciate that."

Alina fiddles nervously as she sits outside the Apparat's office, waiting for him to finish his meeting.

It's Wednesday afternoon and time for their usual weekly meeting. She isn't usually so anxious about it, but considering what she'd done on Saturday night, and all the questions that have been swirling around in her mind since, Alina isn't exactly looking forward to the meeting.

She sits in silence for about ten minutes before the door opens and Pyotr Lantsov exits. She frowns as she watches the Apparat shake the man's hand.

"Ah, it's the little Shu songbird," Pyotr leers as he walks past Alina.

She forces herself not to shudder, refusing to give the former tsar the satisfaction of a reaction.

"Good day, Pyotr," the Apparat says pointedly, ushering Alina into his office.

"I thought he was supposed to stay out of the capital," Alina says as she takes a seat.

"It's a complex situation, sankta. And Pyotr is as entitled to spiritual guidance as anyone else."

Alina wrinkles her nose. Pyotr Lantsov hadn't ever been religiously-inclined, as far as she can tell, never showing any real reverence even while he was the tsar.

She doesn't want to argue with the Apparat, though, so she says nothing else about the matter.

"Now," the Apparat says, "I was surprised not to be able to reach you on Saturday evening. I called three times, hoping to discuss an upcoming event with you, but you never answered."

"Oh …" Alina stutters, "I … I put my phone on silent, so I could work on one of my essays without any distractions."

"An admirable dedication to your studies," he nods, "although the calling of the saints should never be considered a distraction, only a blessing."

"Yes, of course, sir. I apologise."

The Apparat eyes her with a little suspicion, "I do hope you aren't going out partying, or getting yourself involved with any boys, sankta."

"No, sir, of course not."

"Because your life is dedicated to the saints, and you must be pure and chaste."

"Yes, sir," she nods, because there is no other answer the Apparat will accept.

"Wonderful, now, let's discuss the fundraiser for the Sankt Nikolai Foundation. As you know, this is the tsar's favourite charity."

Alina nods. The tsar was named for Sankt Nikolai, the patron saint of sailors and lost causes. Nikolai has always said it was an appropriate namesake, considering his love of sailing and his father's regular complaints that Nikolai would run off to be a pirate if he could. Nikolai had served in the navy for five years, only departing when his father and brother's actions had seen him handed the throne.

"The fundraiser is in two weeks and we have sold almost all the tables. The tsar will be there, of course."

"And what is it to raise money for?" Alina asks, "is it to support the families of navy officers killed or injured in action?"

There had been a terrible incident a few months ago – apparently the work of a terrorist group from Fjerda – that had resulted in the deaths of twelve navy officers, and the injury of about seventy more, and she's sure that this must be the reason for the fundraiser.

The Apparat waves his hand, "oh, I'm sure it will go where it's needed most. Admiral Popov – a close, personal friend of mine – actually witnessed the carnage from his own ship a few miles away from the explosion, and he found it very traumatic, so we'll probably organise a grant to him. And then there will be a grand memorial to the lives lost – I was thinking marble, inlaid with gold. Don't worry, sankta, the money will go where it's most needed."

"Of course," Alina nods, although she feels strangely uneasy when she considers his answer.

Alina has always trusted the Apparat, has never questioned that he – a trustee on over a dozen different charitable foundations – will ensure funds will be fairly distributed.

She's never asked questions before now.

"I feel like I should be more involved with the foundations whose fundraisers I sing at," she says.

He actually laughs. Incredulous and patronising.

"You don't need to bother with all that, sankta. I assure you, I carefully curate all the events that you perform at."

Alina frowns, "I just think I should be more personally involved. I'm happy to sing at fundraising events, but maybe I could find some more hands-on projects too. I do love to draw and paint, and I know that arts education in Ravka is severely underfunded, so I could help with –"

"No need," the Apparat interrupts firmly, "your role is to bless the world with your angelic voice, sankta."

"But I –"

"I assure you that the foundation is well-managed, sankta. You have nothing to worry about."

"Right, of course."

"Now, about your dress …"

Alina borrows Genya's laptop again to look up the Sankt Nikolai Foundation on the Charity Commission website.

She's confused to see that Pyotr Lantsov is somehow still a trustee on this foundation, as well as five others. She wants to think it is a simple administrative oversight, but the Apparat had insisted he was meticulous with the charity records.

A glance at the most recent accounts shows the foundation's income as over five hundred million for the last year. As for the outgoings, the figures are presented in a way that makes them hard to understand.

"Those accounts are a masterclass in obfuscation," Genya grimaces when she arrives back from her trip to the library and glances at a screen.

"Why would they do that?" Alina asks.

Genya sighs, patting her on the shoulder, "you really do think the best of people, Alina. These accounts … they're set out this way to hide something. I imagine the foundation's funds aren't all being used in the way they should be."

"But … it's a charitable foundation. The Apparat … he wouldn't let that happen. And it's Nikolai's favourite charity, and he's so passionate about supporting navy veterans."

"I'm sure the tsar has the very best of intentions with this foundation, Alina, but I doubt he really looks through the accounts. And as for the Apparat … well, Sasha says there's lots of evidence of financial fraud, but it's hard to get anyone to take such accusations seriously when the Apparat has plenty of friends in high places."

Alina shakes her head. She can't believe it.

"Remember, I'm here if you want to talk about it," Genya tells her gently.

"It's all just a misunderstanding, I'm sure," Alina mutters, "or an accounting error."

"Alina …"

"I have to go. Thanks for letting me use your laptop again, Gen."

She has one morning lecture on Friday at 9am. After that, it's straight to the library.

First, she finishes the paper she has due soon. Her grades have always been excellent and she doesn't want recent events (and her subsequent crisis) to change that.

After all, Morozov's words have reminded her of the fragility of her position. Without the Apparat's support, she would be almost entirely alone in the world. She loves to sing, but it's important that she gets her degree, just in case.

After she finishes her paper, Alina wanders over to the politics section, picking out texts that discuss republicanism and criticism of the monarchy.

She skims through them at a quiet desk in the corner, knowing she can't check them out and risk the Apparat questioning her about them.

Really, she's only doing research. Just becoming more informed. But she knows the Apparat would see it as a betrayal and believe she doesn't trust him.

But she does trust the Apparat. Really.

Maybe.

Well, she's just confused at the moment, wants to know more so that she can properly order her thoughts.

Alina decides to make it simple, writing a pros and cons list for the monarchy.

Over the course of three hours, her frown deepens as the cons list grows ever longer, while the pros list remains short.

Even when she's actively trying to balance out the lists, she struggles to find much.

Ever since the Apparat discovered her and swept her away to a new life, Alina has been surrounded by people who talk of the monarchy with reverence and disdain those who see no point in it. Of course, none of those people ever really made actual arguments for why the monarchy was important, they only stated it as if it were an irrefutable fact.

And Alina never saw a reason to doubt them, didn't ever think to question what the Apparat told her.

It hurts, the idea that the Apparat has been letting her live in ignorance.

She's always trusted him, been grateful for the way he plucked her from obscurity and gave her a life beyond her wildest dreams.

But she's starting to realise that none of it is really hers. Everything is borrowed, an illusion that will likely disappear as soon as she is no longer of use to the Apparat.

Sankta Alina, Ravka's songbird, that is who the Apparat and his associates want. She's not sure they really care about the girl underneath it all.

-x-x-x-

On the way back to her dorm, Alina calls Ana Kuya, the Duke of Keramsov's PA, on a whim,

Despite what Morozov implied, and her recent realisations about the Apparat, surely it doesn't matter that the Duke has never formally adopted her. He's still been an exemplary, if distant, guardian and she's sure she could count on him for support.

"The Duke of Keramsov's office."

"Hi, Ana. It's Alina. I … I wondered if I could have a brief chat with the Duke."

"What business does it relate to?"

"Err … none. I just wanted to catch up."

"Right … hmm … well, I could fit you in for a twenty-minute call at 2.40pm on the 23rd of next month. Would that work?"

Alina flushes red with embarrassment, "that's five weeks away."

"The Duke has a busy schedule, Alina. You should know this."

Alina does. She remembers school holidays at his country home, barely catching a glimpse of her guardian, spending her time either in vocal lessons or at events or alone at the estate.

"Never mind, Ana," her shoulders slump in disappointment, "it's not important."

It stings but, deep down, she's not really surprised.

There's a crowd when she gets out of her last class of the day, far larger and rowdier than the usual student groups.

The sudden flashes of light catch her attention and Alina looks up to spot a familiar face beckoning her over.

"Moi tsar?" her brow wrinkles in confusion when she reaches Nikolai, "what are you doing here."

"Oh, I was just in the neighbourhood," he says, waving cheerily to the people who have gathered to gawk, "on my way to another engagement, and I thought I'd stop by and see you."

Alina stares blankly at him. She and Nikolai have always been friendly and, when she was younger, she often felt like he was the only person who saw her as a girl who wanted a childhood rather than some kind of saintly songbird to be admired in a golden cage. But he's never come to visit her, or even messaged her – their interactions have always been limited to the events they both attend.

Alina frowns as she remembers Morozov's words.

"You, Miss Starkova, are a rather popular young lady, and Nikolai is certainly the sort to capitalise on that. There are Twitter accounts dedicated to the two of you, so I'm told – I believe they refer to you as Nikolina."

She'd dismissed it as ridiculous. Even when she'd started to think Morozov might have a point about the Apparat, she'd never thought his words about Nikolai having an interest in her could be true.

And yet, here they are.

"You're attending the Sankt Nikolai Foundation fundraiser, aren't you?" he asks her.

"Yes, moi tsar," Alina nods, "that is the plan."

"Excellent," he beams, dazzling everyone around them with his smile, "I do hope you'll save a dance or two for me."

He says the last bit loudly enough that everyone in the near vicinity can hear his words. Alina sees people start to gossip as a few women almost seem to swoon.

"I don't really dance, usually," Alina stutters, "the Apparat –"

"Oh, he and I have spoken," Nikolai waves his hand, "don't worry about it."

"Now," he glances at his watch, "I'm afraid I must go. The Treasury Department always get antsy when I'm late. I will see you at the fundraiser."

"Yes, moi tsar."

Alina turns to go, but her eyes widen as Nikolai darts forward, takes her hand and lifts it up so he can kiss it.

She's nearly blinded by the flashing lights as the cameras – belonging to both the press and the bystanders – flash.

She blushes furiously as she tugs her hand away.

It's not that Nikolai hasn't kissed her hand before. He's very prone to dramatic, flamboyant gestures, after all.

But it was back when she was a child, a friendly, over-the-top gesture to make her laugh. And it was never as public as this.

Now it's different. Now, it has meaning.

And Alina doesn't like that. Not at all.

She flees the scene before any of the gathered reporters – and where had they all come from, she wonders suspiciously, since this was supposedly an unplanned, brief stop – can ask her questions, ducking into the library as they're still fighting through the crowd.

Hurrying to the stacks to keep out of view, she decides to go back to the politics section.

If she's going to hide here for a while, she might as well make good use of her time.

Later, when she checks Twitter, Alina has 12,000 new followers and #Nikolina is trending.

I can't concentrate. I can't sleep properly.

It's your fault.

Gen?

No.

It's Alina.

Gen let me borrow her phone.

Ah, Miss Starkova.

My head is a mess. I have questions.

Lots of questions.

I'd be happy to talk with you.

Why don't you come and meet me tomorrow morning and I'll tell you more about my work.

The Morozov Foundation, Grisha Avenue, Os Alta

…

…

Miss Starkova?

Yes, I guess that would be helpful.

I'll be there at 9.30am?

Wonderful. I look forward to seeing you then.

Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it.

You can find me on Twitter under the username Keira_63. I pretty much just post mini prompt fics.