As the Healers tended to my wounds, the Darkling paced back and forth, his anger palpable in the air. Finally, he turned his attention back to me and spoke, his voice breaking the heavy silence. "How did you escape?"

I took a deep breath, steadying myself before responding.

"After what happened with my powers... a lot of the Druskelle died… at least I think they did. They just laid there around the walls, as if something had thrown them away from me. I was still bound, but I found a knife and managed to free myself and steal a horse… It wasn't long before the others noticed… They followed me the whole way. I think they're probably still close, waiting…."

The Darkling's frown deepened as he processed the information. "Where did they hold you?"

"They have a secret base here, not far away from the border."

Surprise flashed across the Darkling's face "In Ravka?" He frowned. "Would you find your way back?" he inquired, his voice laced with a touch of urgency.

I fought the urge to tremble at the mere thought of returning to that place, and I could feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead. Sensing the change in my demeanor, the Darkling picked up on it, but I quickly interjected before he could address it. I didn't want him to think I was weak.

"I could, yes. Do you want me to lead you there? It's not a problem, we can leave immediately." I tried to sound as convincing as I could, but as the Darkling's lips curved into a hint of a smile, I could see I had failed. The healers seemed to be done with their work because, bowing slightly and murmuring "moi soverenyi" one after another, they left the tent.

I felt uneasy, suddenly alone with The Darkling. Though I was glad to escape the prying eyes, his presence alone was far more intimidating than the entire Second army. Not only was he incredibly powerful, his presence was also strangely intoxicating.

"Show me on the map." He commanded.

I gather my thoughts, focusing on my memories. With a trembling finger, I traced the path on the map.

"It's situated within the forests near the border," I began, my voice steady. "To reach it, you should follow the path to Halmhend and head west for approximately 15 miles before reaching the border. It's quite close to the edge of the shadow fold…" I continued, trying to remember some significant landmark. "There is a peculiar rock formation, somewhere around here," I said, gesturing to a spot on the map. The Darkling moved closer to me, leaning over my shoulder.

"I know the place," he said. "But there is nothing there."

"The base is hidden in a cave system," I explained, doing my best to ignore his sudden proximity. "And I think that parts of it are underground. I didn't see much of it, but they led me through a lot of tunnels; it's like a maze in there. The tunnels twist and turn, so it's quite easy to get lost if you're not familiar with the layout." I continued.

"How many entrances?" The Darkling's focus sharpened, a slight frown creasing his forehead, seemingly oblivious to how close he was standing to me.

"I… I'm not sure" I stuttered. "But at least two." The Darkling seemed to notice my unease, but he didn't move further from me. Instead he slowly turned to face me, his face so close that I could feel his breath on my cheek.

"Thank you… you've been very helpful, Miss Solberg," he said, calmly scrutinising my face.

The adrenaline that had kept me alert was fading, and exhaustion weighed heavily on my eyelids.

"I believe it is now time for you to get some sleep. If I remember correctly, you've been suffering from severe sleep deprivation before my Heartrenders put you under, and the few hours of sleep we granted you will hardly make up for it," he said. "We can move you tomorrow."

"They did what?" I asked, stepping away from him shakily. "Why?"

"It was a precautionary measure." His voice was calm as he noticed my subtle retreat. "We don't have fjerdans barging into our camp demanding to see me on a daily basis. And when you arrived, you were so depleted that your words were barely coherent," he added. "When was the last time you slept or ate?"

"I don't know," I admitted truthfully. "It's been at least three days, if not more. But if you think I fabricated the existence of the base, that I'm delirious..." He calmly interrupted my protest.

"I believe you," he assured me, beckoning a servant with a snap of his fingers.

"Please attend to Miss Solberg's needs and ensure she is well-guarded at all times," he instructed, redirecting his attention to me."Rest and regain your strength. We still have much to discuss once you awaken. And, Klara?" he called out as I was leaving the tent, "you are safe here."

_

I woke up to a flurry of activity surrounding me. As I got up, I couldn't help but wonder how I had ended up in bed the previous day. The tent bustled with unfamiliar faces, and each of them seemed to have a specific task to fulfil. Healers inspected my condition, a seamstress took my measurements, and servants scurried around, drawing a bath and bringing trays of food. I looked around, searching for anyone who would tell me what was happening. Everyone seemed to know exactly what they were doing; they moved with purpose, as if it was all part of a well-rehearsed choreography. I attempted to stop several people, asking for an explanation, but they all acted as if I was invisible, as if I were just a job, a dusty antique that needed to be repaired and properly cleaned because someone else had plans for it.

Is this what my life is going to be like now? Did I give up all agency I had over my life when I left Fjerda?

Amidst the chaos, I overheard a healer giving orders to the servants.

"Prepare a quick bath for her and ensure she's clean. And check-"

"Excuse me, but can someone please tell me what is happening? What is all this?" I interrupted her, my frustration seeping into my voice.

The healer, too preoccupied to care, cast a brief glance my way before dismissing me entirely. "And check if she has eaten something!" she continued, as though I were not standing right beside her.

"I am not a puppet to be moved about without explanation," I asserted, my words louder than intended. "Tell me what is going on!"

She sighed in exaggerated annoyance, but I could see a flicker of empathy in her face. Finally, she spoke, her words dripping with condescension as if she were addressing a difficult child. "Hello, my name is Svetlana, and the General asked me to make sure that you are ready to depart in less than an hour. Shall we get started?" She continued before I could say anything.

"The bath is ready. Bathe, eat, and dress. You can borrow this," she said, handing me a crimson kefta. "It will suffice for now. And please hurry," she concluded before turning on her heel and leaving me, angry and confused, amidst a group of nervous servants who continued to hover anxiously around me.

Depart? Depart... where? Are they taking me to find the Druskelle base?

For the following hour, I really had no control over my life. They pushed me into the bath, washed me, insisted on helping me dress, and I half expected them to force-feed me at the table.

I didn't want to be unkind to the servants; they were merely doing their job and quite possibly had no knowledge of our destination. But I prepared a little speech for when the healer returned. I won't be treated this way. Nobody can—

"Good, you're ready," she stood at the door, gesturing for me to follow her.

"Wait, I wanted to—"

"Nobody keeps him waiting," she cut me off and ushered me outside.

The Darkling, donned in his black kefta, was already waiting in front of his coach. The vehicle was surrounded by a dozen Grisha on horseback. She gently nudged me in his direction.

I spent most of my life alone in a constant struggle to have any say in what would happen in my own life. It wasn't easy for a woman in Fjerda, and I had to make many sacrifices, but I have never felt as helpless as I felt at this moment. Where is he taking me? And why are we travelling in his coach? Every Fjerdan knows what it looks like; we will be such an easy target!

"Good morning, Miss Solberg," he interrupted my thoughts, offering his hand to help me into the coach. "How do you feel?" he continued as he settled in opposite me. The coach began moving before I had a chance to respond, so I stayed silent. I had too much on my mind to engage in small talk anyway.

We travelled in silence, yet I couldn't help but steal occasional glances at the Darkling, his presence filling the small space between us. How can he not see this is a terrible idea? Whenever we are going, Druskelle are all around us and they won't miss a chance to get to me.

"Go on," he broke the silence. "I can sense there's something on your mind. Anything you'd like to ask me?"

"A thousand things," I sighed.

"Then choose the most pressing one."

I looked down at my hands, clasped together tightly, fidgeting with them as I began to speak. I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes. "I don't mean to question you, but… I'm quite sure the Druskelle will be after me. They are probably all around us right now… Wouldn't it be safer to use a little… less inscopious way of travel?"

"Are you frightened?" His calmness frustrated me.

"I would be foolish not to be. And this just seems so… risky."

He looked at me for a long time before he spoke again. "Perhaps you should have a little faith in me," he uttered.

"Faith?" I repeated with a bitter edge, the anger, fear, and frustration welling up inside me. "Over the past week, I've lost everything I knew, and I barely escaped the holy soldiers who tortured me for days. And from what I remember, I killed at least a dozen of them during my escape. I am also likely the only enemy who ever managed to flee their secret base and that can lead you right to it… So call me paranoid, but I believe they might not feel particularly friendly towards me." I scowled and shook my head.

"Nobody bothered to inform me of what is happening! I didn't go through hell and back to become a mere spectator in my own life." I continued. "The whole morning, I played an obedient little puppet in the hands of your servants, not knowing what the hell is going on or where are you taking me!"I could hear my voice rising with my frustration.

"And now I'm driving Saints know where in a coach that is etched into the memories of every single Fjerdan child as the embodiment of evil! It's essentially screaming 'come and get me!' and you ask me to have faith in you? Faith?" I scoffed, turning to look out the window, trying to calm myself by focusing on the passing landscape.

"With all due respect, General, I don't know you. I heard a lot about you growing up, but you can't ask me to have faith in you when you practically put a beacon over my head." I found his eyes, his gaze unwavering.

"Do I not deserve to know what is going to happen to me? Where are you taking me? And why like this? Please!" I quickly wiped my eyes before they could get any more watery.

"And I know you are incredibly powerful, and of course, you are also absolutely petrifying. So I'm sure that the Druskelle are very, very frightened of you, but they are also bloodthirsty zealots ready to die for their twisted cause, so forgive me if I am still slightly worried."

The Darkling watched most of my rant without changing his expression, but the end of it seemed to amuse him, which only made me angrier. For a moment, I considered apologising, but I pushed that thought away. Let him punish me if he wants to.

"You don't seem to be particularly petrified by me," he said calmly.

"Oh, I am," I said, anger still lingering in my voice. "But right now, there's nothing that would scare me more than being caught by them."

Is that really true? You just screamed at a man you've been taught to fear your whole life. I always felt a connection to him in a way because we shared the same power, but he did terrify me.

Oh Saints, what has gotten into me?! I could feel his dark eyes studying my face. Jumping out of the coach and running straight into the arms of the Druskelle didn't feel like such a terrible idea all of a sudden. I mustered up the courage to meet his gaze.

"Let's start from the beginning, shall we?" he said, his voice calm. "I am taking you to the Little Palace, the safest place in Ravka. And believe it or not, Miss Solberg, I have considered the risks of using my coach," he stated matter-of-factly. "You are correct that you have made quite an impression on your Fjerdan friends; they are more than determined to get rid of you." His words made me shiver.

"However, the impression you've made was so strong that the forests are swarming with them. They clearly sent everyone who was available, and more are coming. Avoiding them completely is absolutely impossible, whether in a coach or on horseback. Besides, my Healers were concerned that you may not endure such a long journey on horseback just yet."

"I am not a fragile little girl!" I growled, but as I realized, I resisted more out of habit. For I was no longer sure that my anger was justified. The Darkling's piercing gaze silenced me.

"However, the main reason I chose the coach is its predictability. They can predict our journey, and we can predict their plans," he continued, his gaze still unwavering. I stared at him, struggling to understand his point.

"As I said, it is impossible to avoid them. They will attack us. And in situations like this, I like to have a concrete plan. Thanks to the given route of the coach, we can predict their attack and make the necessary precautions. I would also prefer to have you hidden in the coach rather than being out in the open within reach of their guns," he continued, his eyes never leaving mine.

"And... I am sorry to hear how difficult you're finding it to have faith in the one person who is trying to save your life, but let me remind you that it was you who came to me and asked for my help. So I'm afraid you will just have to try." I could hear in his voice that the conversation was over. I stared at my hands for a long time before I dared to steal another glimpse of his face.

"Yes?" he asked, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. "I didn't mean to be ungrateful. I just couldn't bear it if they captured me again... Do you genuinely expect an attack?"

"I am certain it will happen," he nodded, "but they won't be able to harm you."

I needed a minute to collect my thoughts. So we were not avoiding the confrontation; we were prepared for it. With a deep breath, I allowed this realization to settle within me while the Darkling observed me intently.

"May I ask... what is the plan?"

His stern expression relaxed, and a faint smile ran across his face. "We anticipate the attack to happen approximately 30 miles before Kyrsk," he explained. "The road narrows there, with large rocks offering the Druskelle a tactical advantage," he reached for his kefta and took out a black pocket watch with the eclipse carved on the top. "We should reach that point in three hours. Some of my Heartrenders are already positioned there, eliminating the enemy discreetly to minimize their advantage. Another unit is traveling not far behind us. There will be difficulties, but we have the odds in our favor. When the attack comes, I want you to stay in the coach and wait for us. It will be the most protected place," he stated firmly, sensing my impending objection. The Darkling silenced me before I had a chance to protest. "There will be no discussion on that matter," he declared. "You will be safe; you have my promise. There will be a struggle, no reason to deny it, but you will be safe," he said, his eyes never leaving mine. "This is the safest way to get you out of here."

I wanted to ask for details. I needed to know exactly what was going to happen. But I was grateful he shared this much with me as I could see it wasn't a usual situation for him, and I didn't want to push my luck. Maybe I'll try again later.

"Is everything clear?" he asked when I didn't say anything for a long time.

"Yes, sir!" I replied, my voice laced with a touch of playful irony to lift the mood.

His expression changed. "You are surprisingly impudent for a Fjerdan woman," he remarked, joining in the game, a sudden, almost mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"From what I've heard, Fjerdan women are supposed to serve their husbands faithfully, tend to their children, and keep their opinions to themselves, especially in the presence of men," he continued, his smile lingering.

"Or better yet, not have opinions at all," I met his gaze.

"So what went wrong with you?"

I smiled, grateful for the distraction.

"I suppose my parents didn't do a very good job of raising an obedient little girl," I shrugged. "My father taught me to fight, and my mother, being Ravkan, wasn't exactly the ideal role model for a humble Fjerdan woman."

"That explains your lack of a Fjerdan accent," the Darkling nodded in understanding. "Why did your mother leave Ravka?"

"Because of my father. They both lived near the border, met, and fell in love. And... they both despised Grisha, making Fjerda the perfect refuge for them," I replied, a tinge of bitterness in my voice.

"And how long have you known that you embody what your parents despised?"

"I think I somehow always knew. But when my powers first manifested, I was old enough to understand the importance of keeping them hidden."

"Was it them who reported you as Grisha?"

"No. They never found out. They died after a small outbreak of firepox, seven years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

I chuckled. "Even though I couldn't use my powers because of them?"

"Did you never use them?"

"Oh, I did. A lot, actually. It felt as natural as breathing, and my abilities sort of developed along with me... But I could only use them at night. As I'm sure you know," I smiled, "one of the advantages of being a shadow summoner is that you can be quite inconspicuous, especially at nighttime." The Darkling returned my smile.

"Are you skilled?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, that's hard to say," I snickered playfully. "I've never encountered another Grisha, let alone another shadow summoner, so I have no basis for comparison... But if I may say so myself..." I locked my gaze with his. "I'm exceptionally good."

He chuckled softly, his voice tinged with a hint of menace. "Then I can't wait to duel with you."

I felt strange with him. I did my best to exude confidence, while I was so deeply intimidated. But there was something else that I felt even more strongly - a peculiar pull towards him that intimidated me more than anything else about him. He may have been the strongest Grisha I had ever encountered, a man with immense power and influence, but what scared me the most was how he seemed to draw me in.

"Can you access your powers at will now? Or do you still struggle to reach them?" He interrupted my thoughts.

"I... don't know," I admitted. "With everything happening so fast this morning, I didn't really have a chance to figure that out.

"Well, this might be the perfect time to do so," he gestured, encouraging me to give it a try.

Summoning my powers in such a confined space with him made me feel uneasy. I didn't want to embarrass myself, but even though I was forbidden to engage in the upcoming fight, I wanted to know if I'd be able to defend myself. It will be better to know.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes, allowing the rhythmic movement of the coach to calm me down. I drifted away from the Darkling, the forest, and the lurking Druskelle. It was just me and... there they were. My shadows. I reached out to them, feeling them envelop me with a sense of relief. But... something felt off. They were weak, like an injured whimpering animal.

I brought my mind back to the coach, raised my hand with my palm up, and as I opened my eyes, I saw a soft cloud of shadow hovering above it.

"I can reach them, but they're weak... they feel almost as if they're injured, fragile. I don't understand..."

Without a word, the Darkling reached out across the small space between us and held my hand in his. The warm feeling of certainty I had felt the previous day was back, and I sensed my shadows growing larger and stronger with each passing moment. But the pull towards him grew stronger as well. I felt so... safe.

You have to stop this. You can't get this comfortable around him; that will only make you vulnerable! A voice in my head warned, recalling words I had read in a book once. The problem with wanting is that it makes us weak.

I couldn't afford to be weak, especially not around someone as powerful as him. We sat there, our eyes locked together, and despite every part of me urging me to do so, I couldn't bring myself to look away, to break the moment.

"They look fine to me," he said softly, pointing to my shadows as they danced around us once more. "And it seems like they like me," he smirked, his gaze shifting down to our intertwined hands.

Following his gaze, I saw what he meant. My shadows poured out from my hand in long tendrils, wrapping around his arm like tentacles all the way up to his bicep.

"Faen!" I cursed, quickly pulling my hand back, causing the shadows to dissolve.

"Well, that is not a nice word," the Darkling chuckled, looking at me with a lifted eyebrow and a mischievous smile.

He knows. He knows exactly what he is doing to me. Perhaps he has this effect on everyone.

I never really wanted anyone before. But I knew how easy it was to control someone who wanted me. I wasn't what you would call a typically beautiful woman, but I had my charms, and I was well aware of them, granting me a power that no one had ever held over me, and I really didn't want that to change.

"What are you thinking about?" he suddenly asked, tilting his head with an intrigued expression. Before I could answer, he lifted a finger, his gaze fixed on a distant sound.

"We're nearly there," he said gravely, peering out of the window. He nodded to one of the Heartrenders riding on our side, and the coach came to a stop.