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Chapter Text

Alina had experienced an unprecedented range of emotions that day: apprehension, excitement, genuine delight, a fluttering heart when the Darkling kissed her, pressing her against the door of a dark room, happiness from seeing Mal, which in a matter of minutes had turned to disappointment, and now anger. How dare he? How dare Mal, her best friend, the boy she had known since childhood and had been in love with for many years, say such a thing? His cruel words were like the blows of a whip, the girl shuddered at the memory of each one, letting tears roll uncontrollably down her cheeks. 

"Do you even understand how much I worried about you? No one knew what happened to you, what was done to you. You were impossible to reach. There were rumors that you were being tortured. When the captain needed soldiers to report to the Darkling, like an idiot, I volunteered for a chance to see you. And what do I find? You're safe and sound, dancing and flirting like a little princess!"  

How could he say that? Mal should have been happy for her, for not being tortured, as he said, but her friend (former friend?) was not happy. Not at all, he was angry, angry that she had moved on without him, him - the one who had recently ignored her very existence, chasing every skirt he met! And as if what Mal had already said wasn't enough, he didn't stop there. 

"Are you happy here, Alina?" he asked, and then clarified, referring to the Darkling. "Are you happy with him? You have his emblem. And his color. The clothes, the jewelry, even the way you look. You have his mark." Mal said in a tone as if Alina were a fallen woman, and he her deceived husband. What a bastard, how dare he be jealous when he had given her only crumbs of his attention before she became the Sun Summoner? 

"I've seen the way he looks at you," Mal said, disgust evident. 

"I like the way he looks at me!" she replied, and it was the truth. She did like the way the Darkling looked at her. Under his piercing gray eyes, she felt desired for the first time in her life. Mal had never looked at her and never would, because now she was damaged goods to him. A slut. He didn't say it out loud, but the implication was there. And how could she ever love this callous ass? It was beyond her comprehension. She leaned her head back against the door frame and squeezed her eyes shut so tightly that white dots floated at the edges of her vision. Fool! What a fool she had been all this time, giving her love to someone like Mal. He didn't deserve it. Mal saw her as a stupid girl who would follow him around for the rest of her life while he was having fun. But she had enough! 

A quiet knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Alina straightened up and tried in vain to clear away the consequences of her hysteria. Was it the Darkling? She didn't want him to see her like this - a walking wreck - but she couldn't not open the door for him, so she got to her feet and opened the door. A bony hand immediately tried to grab her wrist, but Alina, remembering Botkin's lessons, pulled back in time. 

"Baghra?" she asked, looking at the woman behind the door. 

"Let's go," she tried to grab Alina's hand again, but she took a step back. 

"What do you want?" she asked, and then her anger and irritation that had accumulated during the day made themselves known. “Leave me alone!” the girl exclaimed and tried to slam the door, but Baghra was surprisingly strong and did not allow the door to slam. 

“Stop being childish and follow me right now, girl!” she ordered, holding the door. 

“No, I’m not going anywhere,” the girl said confidently. “I'm tired and want to sleep, classes can wait until tomorrow!” with these words, Alina tried to push the woman out the door, but in vain, for such an outwardly fragile person, Baghra turned out to be very strong. 

“There will be no more classes, stupid girl. You must leave the palace. Today!” Baghra opened the door, causing Alina to fall to the floor. 

“Are you crazy?” Alina rose to her feet and shook herself off. “The palace is literally the only safe place for me.” 

“It’s a golden cage, girl,” Baghra laughed. Then she looked around, as if afraid of being discovered here. “Come on, we don’t have much time. The Darkling will find Morozov’s herd soon. He will find the stag.” 

“I know,” she said, thinking of Mal, who had found the stag, and immediately felt a pang of irritation, but at the same time a slight smugness came. “I thought you didn’t believe in Morozov’s herd.” 

Baghra immediately waved her words away. “I told him that in the hope that he would abandon the search for the stag if he thought it was just a village fable. But if the Darkling gets to him, no one will stop him.” 

Alina threw up her hands in irritation, she was already quite tired of this conversation. “No one will stop him from what?” she asked, sighing wearily. At that very moment, she wanted nothing more than to flop down on her bed and let her dreams carry her away, but instead she was forced to listen to this incoherent rambling. 

“From using Fold for her own selfish ends,” Baghra replied. 

“I see,” the girl couldn't help but roll her eyes. “Maybe he's planning to build a summer house there?” 

“This is not a joke!” Her voice was filled with unfamiliar notes of despair, she tried to grab Alina's hand again, but the girl took another step back. What's wrong with her? 

“Go to the infirmary, they'll definitely help you there...” Alina started to say, but the woman interrupted her. 

“I'm not sick and I'm not crazy!” Baghra barked at her. “You have to listen to me and come with me.” 

“I'm not going anywhere until you explain to me in human terms what's going on?” the girl put her hands on her hips. “How can he use the Fold for your own purposes?” 

“By expanding it.” 

“Yeah,” Alina drawled, crossing her arms over her chest. What nonsense. The old woman had definitely gone mad, apparently overheated in her decrepit hut. 

But the woman only continued to press, looking more and more insane with each passing minute. Maybe Alina should call for help? Baghra was beginning to frighten her. “The land that encompasses the Unsea was once green, rich, and fertile. Now it is dead and barren, teeming with monsters. The Darkling will push its borders north to Fjerda and south to Shu Han. Those who do not bow before him will watch as their kingdom turns into a deserted wasteland, their subjects devoured by predatory volcra. He lied to you, child,” the woman looked at Alina with her piercing black eyes. “His goal was never to destroy the Fold, for it is his creation, and with your help the Darkling intends to turn it into a weapon.” 

Alina shuddered in horror. What kind of sick fantasy is this? The old woman had obviously completely lost her mind. The girl sighed heavily, why did everything fall on her poor head today? “The Black Heretic created the Fold hundreds of years ago, Darkling...” 

“He is the Black Heretic!” Baghra blurted out in rage, trying to close the distance between them again. Alina took a few more steps. Crazy! 

“Of course, and then, how old do you think he is? More than four hundred years?” the girl shook her head. The insanity was growing stronger. “This is absurd! I'll call you a healer, sit down for now.” 

“Look at me, girl.” 

Alina took a deep breath, starting to lose patience. She felt sorry for the poor old woman who had gone crazy, but what she was saying was too much and smelled of treason. “Baghra…” The words, however, died in the bud. 

Darkness flowed from the woman’s palms, and skeins of inky darkness floated in the air. “You do not know him, Alina,” she called her by name for the first time. “But I do. He is ancient , served countless kings, faked many deaths, waited for his time and for you. After he takes the Fold, no one will be able to resist him.” 

“No,” the girl recoiled. Perhaps she has gone mad and now she sees things that are not there? Baghra — the Shadow Summoner? The Darkling said he did not know her power. He lied? But why? “He said that the Fold was a mistake.” 

“The Fold was not a mistake.” Baghra lowered her hands, and the darkness swarming around her dissolved. “The only mistake was the volcra. He had not foreseen their appearance, had not considered what energy of such magnitude could do to a mere mortal.” 

Alina's stomach twisted. “Volcra was a humans?” 

“Yes,” the woman nodded. “Centuries ago. Simple farmers, their wives and children. I warned him that there would be consequences, but he did not listen. He was blinded by the thirst for power. Just like now.” 

Alina's soul sank into her heels. She could hardly believe that these terrible carnivorous monsters were once just innocent people. How is this possible? How was this Fold created at all? Certainly not by simple Small Science. And what does the thirst for power have to do with it? “You are wrong.” Alina rubbed her hands, trying to shake off the piercing cold that was beginning to form inside her. “You are lying!” 

“Only the volcra keep the Darkling from using the Fold against his enemies,” Baghra continued to press, and Alina had no choice but to back away. “They are his punishment, living proof of his arrogance. But you will change that. Monsters cannot stand sunlight. With your help, he will rein in the volcra and be able to safely enter the Fold. His power will be limitless.” 

The girl shook her head, refusing to believe what she heard. “He will not do this. Never!” She remembered the night when they talked around the fire in the ruined barn, the shame and sadness in his voice. "I have spent my life looking for a way out of this. You are my first glimmer of hope in a very long time." But how long was that time? A hundred years, or more, much more? “He said he wanted to reunite Ravka, he said…” but the old woman interrupted her train of thought again. 

“Stop repeating his words! Do you think he hasn't learned how to deceive lonely, naive girls in all his centuries of life?!” She moved closer to Alina again, her black eyes glowing. “Think, Alina. If Ravka is reunited, there will be no need for the Second Army anymore. The Darkling will become just another servant of the king. Is that the future he dreams of? If he takes over the Fold, he will never have to kneel before the king again.” 

There was logic in Baghra's words, but Alina still couldn't help but feel like she was being led by the nose. "If that's true, then I won't help him!" the girl stuck her chin out proudly, refusing to back down. 

"You won't have a choice," Baghra smirked. "The stag’s power belongs to the one who kills it." 

"But he can't use the amplifier, being one himself," the girl objected. 

"He can use you !" Baghra exclaimed, clearly starting to lose patience. "Morozov's stag is an unusual amplifier. He will find him. And kill him. Once the Darkling puts his antlers on your neck, you will be completely under his power. You will be the strongest Grisha, and all this newfound power will obey his command. He will bind you to himself forever, and you will not be able to resist," the woman looked at her with pity after saying this. 

Alina sat down on the edge of the bed, holding her head in her hands. Everything that was said did not fit in her head. The Darkling wanted to make her his slave and use the Fold? Baghra was obviously his relative, but how much could Alina trust her. 

“Let's go, quickly. You must leave this place!” Baghra still grabbed her hand with a death grip and dragged her to the door. 

“No!” the girl abruptly pulled her hand out of her grip. “I want to hear what the Darkling will say in response to your accusations!” 

“Stupid girl, have you decided to destroy us all? If the Darkling gets your power in his hands, no one will stop him, how can you not understand? Has he turned your head so much? Maybe he has already climbed into your bed?” the woman asked sarcastically. 

Alina clenched her hands into fists. This is the second time today that she has been accused of being some kind of harlot. She has had enough! “I understand that you are leading me by the nose!” the girl was angry. “Why would the Darkling destroy the entire world? What good would it do? What does he really want to achieve?” 

“I told you...!” the old woman barked at her, obviously starting to lose patience. 

“What you said does not make sense!” Alina threw up her hands. The girl sighed, letting her thoughts settle. “I agree that the Darkling does not want the Second Army to disappear, and I agree that he does not want to serve the king anymore. And who would want to serve this irresponsible fool? I am convinced that the royal family is ruining our country, and everyone will be better off without them!” 

“You did not listen?” Baghra exclaimed. “He wants to enslave you!” 

“These are your words,” the girl answered calmly, crossing her arms over her chest. “I want to hear him.” 

“He will deceive you, he…” the woman began her tirade again. 

“ Ancient , yes,” Alina nodded, and then narrowed her eyes suspiciously, “but you too. How many lonely, naive girls have you deceived?” 

Baghra did not answer. Her black eyes looked at her with intense attention, studying her as if she were an ant under a magnifying glass. Then she sighed tiredly and asked, “You’re not going to leave, are you?” 

“No,” the girl shook her head. “Even if everything you told me is true, which I seriously doubt, there is no point in running. If I run away, I will run for the rest of my life, the Darkling will stop at nothing to take possession of me, and when he does, I will definitely become his slave. I don't want to live like this, I've been hiding and running most of my life, and I won't do it anymore.” 

Baghra chuckled and raised her hands, shadows dancing on her wrists. "Stupid girl, you left me no choice," with these words, the shadows came to life and tried to attack Alina, only her quick reaction allowed her to create a shield of light in time. 

"What are you doing? Stop it!" Alina cried, falling to her knees as the shadows began to push back her light. 

"I will not allow my son to commit another stupidity, I will not allow him to die because of the arrogance that was nurtured in him. If in order to save my son I have to kill you, so be it!" Baghra stared at her with her bottomless black eyes, like a starless night. Her gaze was empty and seemed completely insane. 

Goosebumps ran across Alina's skin. The girl gritted her teeth and tried to push back the shadows, but it was useless - the shadow tentacles slowly closed around the dome of light, suffocating her in their dark embrace, she was too weak to resist them. As the dome cracked and began to crumble, Baghra folded her hands in a painfully familiar gesture - the same one the Darkling did before the Fjerdan holding her broke into two. An instant, and a scythe of darkness formed in the old woman's hands. Alina cringed, she knew that she had no chance to dodge or defend herself from the blade of darkness. The girl closed her eyes and prepared for death as the cut flew towards her. However, the seconds passed and the blow never came. Alina opened her eyes and saw a wall of shadows covering her. Then the darkness dissipated, and she saw the Darkling standing at the threshold of her room. His gaze was murderous, his quartz eyes seemed like a thundercloud and were directed straight at Baghra. The girl sighed with relief, now nothing threatened her. 

"What are you doing to my Sun Summoner, matushka ?" he asked quietly, almost a whisper, but his tone was laced with venom. Alina hung on every word, watching the confrontation between mother and son. 

"Only what must be done, boy," she spat back, moving with the grace of a panther, waiting for the moment when she could attack Alina again. The Darkling stood between them, his posture straight and steady, like a mighty mountain that could not be moved or shaken. "I will not let her ruin this!" Baghra cast another contemptuous glance at Alina. 

"Step back now," the Darkling said, his tone brooking no argument. "You cannot defeat me." 

"Insolent boy, do you think you can defeat the one who taught you all your tricks?" Baghra sneered. 

The Darkling grinned at the corners of his lips. “I don’t need to defeat you, mother,” as if to confirm his words, a moment later the old woman clutched her chest and fell to her knees. Behind her, in the doorway, illuminated by the dim light of the corridor lamps, stood Ivan with his hand outstretched. 

“Guards!” he exclaimed, and immediately a stamping sound was heard in the corridor, the oprichniks ran to help. 

“What happened, deputy Kaminsky?” one of the oprichniks asked, climbing the steps to the second floor. 

“This woman committed treason by attacking our Sun Summoner,” Ivan said without hesitation. “Put her in shackles.” 

Without further ado, three oprichniks approached the still resisting woman, one of them took out handcuffs, chained her and lifted her from the floor. 

“Are you okay, Alina?” — Turning to her, the Darkling asked her, looking at her with genuine concern. But was he worried about her or her power? 

“Y-yes,” the girl answered hesitantly. 

“What should we do with the traitor, moi suverennyy ?” Ivan addressed the Darkling. 

The Darkling cast a long glance at Baghra, Alina read anger and pain of betrayal in his expression. Then he looked away and calmly replied, “Take her to the cell and don’t take your eyes off her. I will deal with her later.” 

Ivan and the oprichniks bowed to him and left the room, leaving Alina alone with the Darkling. He looked after them for a while, then closed the door and quietly asked, “What happened, Alina?” 

The girl opened her mouth to tell him everything, but remembering the conversation with Baghra, she fell silent. The old woman, of course, tried to kill her, but there was some truth in her words - the Darkling was lying to her. He knew about Baghra's power, but he deliberately hid it. Could he have lied about the rest? About his feelings for her, in particular. 

"Alina?" Noticing her hesitation, the Darkling frowned, tilting his head to the side. 

"I... don't know what to say. Baghra attacked me using shadows," she looked at him with genuine bewilderment, her head was an absolute mess, but Alina knew one thing for sure - at the moment she could trust only herself. 

The Darkling looked at her intently. "Did she say anything?" he asked, his shoulders tensing slightly. Alina noticed it. 

"She's gone crazy!" the girl exclaimed. “She was talking some nonsense about the Black Heretic wanting to expand the Fold.” 

The Darkling flinched slightly, but she noticed. 

“I think she overheated in her hut after all,” Alina tried to laugh it off, but the Darkling clearly wasn’t amused. He kept his eyes on her, as if he was afraid she would run away at any moment, like a frightened wild doe. But Alina was no doe, and she refused to be one. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked when he didn’t answer, walking up to him. 

The Darkling looked into her eyes, his quartz orbs filled with emotion, something painful as he looked at her. “When I saw matushka  use the cut on you… I was afraid and froze for a moment,” he said after a few minutes of tense silence. “My body moved on its own before I realized it. Forgive me, Alina. My hesitation could have cost you your life,” the Darkling bowed his head. His sadness seemed real, and Alina sincerely wanted to believe that this time he was not lying. 

With a burst of unnatural confidence, she took his hand in hers and, looking into his eyes, said, “I’m fine, you made it in time. I’m grateful to you.” 

He looked at her intently, examining the slightest change in her, analyzing, searching for something, but his gaze was not at all like his mother’s, not cold and not distant, there was light in his eyes, there were feelings, and Alina doubted that all this was just pretense. Eyes cannot deceive, because they are the mirror of the soul. He really felt something for her. But what? Did the Darkling value her as a person or was he simply afraid of losing the power so necessary for his plans, whatever they were? 

"I should have known she would do something, she was unhappy with your presence from the start," he squeezed her hand tightly in his. "I'm so sorry I didn't see the threat she posed. I..." The Darkling hesitated, then lowered his head in shame. "I honestly didn't think she'd go so far as to try to kill you." 

"Why didn't you tell me the truth?" the girl asked quietly. This caught his attention, and he raised his head to look at her again. "On the lake," she clarified. " You said you didn't know what kind of power she had. Why didn't you say she was your mother?"  

"It's..." the Darkling sighed heavily and looked away for a moment, "a family secret, Alina. As everyone knows, power over the Second Army passes from one Darkling to another. Only my predecessor had a daughter, not a son. My mother could not take the position of General, the Tsar's power would not accept a woman in command, so as soon as she reached the age of marriage, her father forced her to marry the most powerful Grisha in the Second Army. He was a Heartrender. And that's how I was born. My mother could never forgive her father and me for taking away what was rightfully hers, and she could not love me. She was always..." He turned away, sadness flashing in his eyes, "cruel to me, no matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried to earn her love. In the end, I simply decided to disown her, and to this day I hate to remember that we are related." He reached out his hand to her and gently touched her face. "Forgive me for lying, I would not have done it if I had known that she would go so far, wanting to spite me."  

Alina listened carefully, catching every word, every gesture, every movement of her facial muscles. The story seemed coherent - a woman from the Darkling line, rejected by her family, decided to take revenge on her son, who took her place, depriving him of the chance to correct the mistake of his ancestor - but it did not correspond at all with what Baghra herself had told her. The woman may have been insane, but she could hardly have come up with such a sophisticated fantasy that would convince her to run away. If she wanted to deprive the Darkling of the Sun Summoner, she would not have stood on ceremony and would have killed her on the spot. Obviously, the Darkling was lying to her. A false smile spread across her face. Well, two can play at that game. “I understand,” the girl buried her cheek in his palm. “I suppose there are black sheep in the family?” she chuckled, shrugging. 

The Darkling chuckled humorlessly, visibly relaxing. It seemed he believed her. “I suppose so,” the Darkling ran his graceful fingers over her cheek, and then pulled away. “You must be tired after everything that happened today. I will leave you to rest, and so that you do not worry, I will post double guards at your quarters. I promise, not even a mouse will get past my people.” 

And, of course, she will not get past this guard either. The hint was crystal clear - she would not escape. Not that she intended to. Alina would stay and continue to live as before, making plans to outwit the Darkling and take the stag's power for herself. She would not allow anyone to enslave her. 

"Thank you for your concern," she replied, smiling shyly. 

The Darkling turned and moved towards the door. 

"Darkling," she called out to him at the last moment.  

His hand froze on the doorknob. "Yes?" He turned his head towards her. 

"Remember, you asked if you could come to my room tonight?" The girl was embarrassed, remembering what had happened between them in the dark room. Alina blushed and shyly pushed a strand of hair out of her face. "Is this why you came, to continue what we started?"  

“I…” He ran his hand over the top of his dark hair, looking unusually shy. “I was too unrestrained today.” The Darkling turned his gaze to her. “You did not want me to come to you?” 

 “I did not say that,” she countered. “You did not give me time to answer then. I would not have refused you,” and Alina was sincere in this. She felt an inexplicable, intoxicating attraction to the Darkling. Perhaps she would not go so far as to sleep with him, but she certainly would not refuse a second kissing session. 

“Are you sure?” He closed the distance between them in a few steps, his chest beginning to fall a little faster. 

There it was — the chink in his armor. The Darkling still felt something for her, and Alina doubted that it was purely lust. Even after she stopped suppressing her powers, Alina still hadn't become a written beauty, of which there were more than enough in the Little Palace. No. He felt something for her, probably the same attraction she had felt for him since the moment they met. The girl should definitely take advantage of it. However, there was one damned "but" - she was a complete layman in romance. 

"Yes, but..." Alina looked away. 

"But?" The Darkling bowed his head, waiting for her answer. 

"Can't we move more slowly?" She ran the toe of her ballet shoe along the floor, trying to suppress her nervousness. "Our relationship is developing too quickly for my taste." The girl lowered her head and blushed even more than before. "You know, I've never had... well, a relationship before." 

The Darkling listened to her attentively, and then touched her chin with his graceful, thin fingers, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Of course,” he nodded, not taking his quartz eyes off her, which seemed almost black at the moment due to the enlarged pupils.” We will move at a pace that is comfortable for you, Alina.” 

“Do you mind?” the girl looked at him shyly, wringing her hands from nervousness. 

“I am a patient man, it costs me nothing to slow things down,” the Darkling smiled at her with the corners of his lips. 

“Okay,” she sighed, feeling relieved. 

“Good night, Alina,” he kissed her on the forehead, then pulled away and slowly walked towards the door. 

“Good night,” she murmured, trying to memorize his scent, frosty, forest-like. The scent of absence, the scent of night. 

He looked at her one last time, smiled, and then walked out the door, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Alina sighed when she was alone, sitting on the edge of the bed and slowly pulling the pins out of her chestnut hair one by one. When this day had just begun, she could not have imagined that it would end like this. Mal, Baghra, the Darkling - thoughts of all three consumed her mind. She had to kill the stag herself and seize its power, and to do this, she would have to go hunting with the Darkling and Mal. She groaned, pressing her palms to her eyes. This would be quite a journey. However, she would cope with all the tests. She had to. She would not become anyone's slave, not even the Darkling, no matter how powerful he was. If necessary, Alina would fight for her freedom. These were her thoughts as she took off her beautiful black caftan, blew out the candles and slowly fell asleep. Her power would belong only to her, and no one would ever take it away from her.

Chapter Text

As soon as the Darkling left Alina's room, his smile instantly turned to a frown. What had his mother done? He knew she was against his plans from the very beginning, but Aleksander could not even imagine that the old woman would betray him, and even try to kill Alina into the bargain. The Darkling walked with a confident step, moving towards the detention cells.  

His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He had underestimated his mother, as he always did, and it almost cost him everything. This blunder almost cost him the life of Alina, his Alina, the girl who carried the power of the Sun, the girl who was irreplaceable to him, the other immortal who was the very missing piece of the puzzle needed to achieve his cherished dream. His mother had lulled him into a false sense of security over the centuries of slow decay and inaction, had made him believe she had given up on stopping him, when in reality she was simply, like him, waiting for the right moment to strike. She had always been a skilled manipulator, after all, it had been his matushka who had taught him all his tricks, and yet he had still managed to get caught like a foolish boy. The image of mother directing the cut at the helpless, kneeling Alina, the fear frozen in the girl’s eyes, was frozen before my eyes. He flinched, then took a deep breath, forcing the memory away. He had been very lucky - his own lack of restraint, his inability to come to terms with the feelings he had ignited for the Sun Summoner, had forced him to appear at her door and prevent the worst from happening. The Darkling did not want to think about what might have happened otherwise.  

Aleksander descended the stairs that led to the damp, cold chambers of the catacombs. He wrinkled his nose at the pungent smell of mold. His mother, who had suppressed her power for centuries, would not have it easy here. The Darkling shook off the pitiful thoughts; the damned traitor fully deserved her fate.  

“ Moi suverennyy ,” Ivan met him at the entrance arch, holding a torch.  

Aleksander nodded to his deputy and together they moved deeper into the catacombs, the sound of their boots echoing off the brick walls.  

“Did she try anything? Did she talk?” the Darkling asked Ivan.  

“No, sir,” the Heartrender shook his head. “She was quiet and calm, too calm in my opinion,” his deputy visibly frowned.  

The Darkling was inclined to agree with Ivan’s conclusions. His mother was obviously up to something. Aleksander knew that there were Baghra spies in his ranks, but until recently he had not paid attention to them. Now it was time to get rid of them, now they could become an obstacle to his plans. Perhaps he would entrust this work to Fyodor, the lieutenant would undoubtedly cope with the task assigned to him.  

Walking deeper into the corridor, they found themselves in front of a cell guarded by three oprichniks loyal to him. The trio bowed at the sight of him. He responded with a slight nod and looked into the cell. There, behind steel bars, chained to a wooden bench, his matushka sat completely calmly.  

“Here you are,” his mother grinned sarcastically when she saw him. “I already thought that I would have to wait for you here until the morning, while you fooled the poor stupid Sun Summoner.”  

The Darkling frowned, and then, without turning around, ordered, “Leave us. I want to have a little chat with my dear matushka ,” for senior servants like Ivan, his family ties with Baghra were no secret. Of course, he did not tell them the truth, only the version he presented to Alina. No one knew the truth, and as long as Aleksander lived, no one would know. The fate of his people depended on it.  

Ivan and the oprichniks nodded and left without further ado. The Darkling approached the cell and, moving a chair that stood nearby, sat down on it, not taking his eyes off his mother.  

“Have you come here for answers about why I betrayed you? Perhaps you want to know how I could stoop so low and try to kill one of us? Or will you once again try to convince me of the effectiveness of the madness you have planned?” his mother mocked him, but he did not react to her caustic jabs. Aleksander had long been accustomed to them. When Baghra realized that her words had no effect on him, the smile faded from her face. "Speak, boy."  

"I am not surprised by your betrayal, nor by your attempt to kill Alina, I have long been accustomed to expecting the worst from you, matushka ," he spat out the last word like poison.

This cruel, cold woman was his mother. She had always been like this, from the very beginning, time had only made her more grumpy and embittered. Aleksander should not have been surprised by anything she did or said - she was capable of any baseness if it suited her. He should have gotten rid of her centuries ago, but some part of him, the one that belonged to the lonely boy, could not completely banish her from his life, no matter what she did. Now he was reaping the fruits of his own weakness.  

“But you weren't ready for this,” his mother retorted, boring into him with her piercing, pitch-black eyes. “I saw you freeze for a moment when you saw me use cut on the girl,” she sneered and shook her head, clearly disappointed. “I warned you that wanting make us weak, but you didn't listen. You never listen to the voice of reason.  

“Enough, matushka , I haven't cared about your reproaches for a long time,” he brushed away her sermons as if they were annoying flies. He narrowed his eyes, pinning her with his gray gaze. “I'm interested in something else.”  

“What?” Baghra tilted her head to the side, clearly having fun at his expense.  

“What did you manage to tell Alina before you tried to kill her?” Aleksander asked without beating around the bush.  

His mother laughed in response. Aleksander hid the shiver that ran down his spine at the sound of her cold, husky laughter. “Why don’t you ask her yourself?” she demanded, catching her breath. “I thought you had her completely under your control by now, pulling her strings like a puppet, didn’t you?” Her eyes gleamed predatorily as she looked at him, searching for the slightest hint of weakness. The Darkling clenched his hands into fists. Baghra smirked, finding what she was looking for. “Oh, she didn’t tell you? Perhaps the girl is not as stupid as she seems.”  

“I won’t ask twice. Answer,” he snapped at her, beginning to lose his patience.  

“Are you asking what I told you?” she smirked. “The answer is simple - everything,” his heart stopped beating for a moment, but Alexander did not show it outwardly. “I told her absolutely everything: from your plans for the Fold and the seizure of power, about your true nature and what you are going to do with her and the stag. She knows everything, boy.”  

Thoughts boiled in his mind. If Alina knows everything, then why did she stay? Why did she welcome him so warmly, allow him to caress her and willingly make contact with him? Was it all a deception? She did not seem like a good actress, but did he know her well enough to judge? If Alina did not believe his mother's words, then why did she not tell everything? What is on her mind?  

“You must be wondering now why she is still here,” a sinister smile played on Baghra's face, somewhat reminiscent of a beast's grin. “At first, I thought that you had turned her head so much that she simply did not believe me, but now I understand that the girl has planned her own game. I would be careful in your place, son. Who knows, maybe at that moment, when you get carried away by your feelings, when you let your guard down, she will drive a knife into your back?”  

“Be careful with your words, old woman, otherwise you risk being left without a tongue,” he rose abruptly from his chair.  

Baghra only snorted contemptuously in response. “Spare me your empty threats, boy. You are not able to harm me in any way, and you know it. If you could, you would have done so long ago.”  

“Do not tempt fate,” the Darkling threatened her. “I have punished my subordinates for lesser offenses.”  

“I am not one of your obedient puppets, I am your mother, boy,” his mother hissed angrily. “Don't forget yourself.”  

A fit of laughter shook his body. His mother seriously believed that out of the two of them, he was the one who forgot his place? Ridiculous. “Only you have forgotten yourself here, matushka . I don't need you anymore, now that I have Alina to keep me company in eternity,” Aleksander grabbed the bars and whispered quietly. “You are nothing but a nuisance now.”  

“And what will you do?” the old woman leaned back against the wall of the cell with a bored look. “Will you kill your own mother, proving once again what a monster you have become?”  

“No,” he shook his head. She was right about one thing - he did not intend to kill her. "Contrary to what you may think of me, I will not go that far, but you will pay for your crimes," the Darkling said, opening the bars and stepping into the cell.  

"What are you going to do?" Baghra visibly tensed as he slowly approached her.  

"What I should have done long ago." He raised his hands, shadows snaking around his palms. He then walked up to his mother and placed his palms on her bony cheeks. Shadows poured from his hands and shot straight into her eye sockets, blocking her vision. Baghra closed her eyes and began to struggle, but he pinned her in place. When he was done, he stepped back. His mother opened her eyes, obscured by the veil of darkness. "This is your punishment, old woman. Get in my way again, and I will do worse."  

Aleksander left the cell and closed the bars. "Guards," he called to his men, and a few seconds later three oprichniks and Ivan came into view. "Keep an eye on her, she's here for a long time."  

"Yes, moi suverennyy ," the trio bowed to him.  

As he began to slowly move toward the exit, Aleksander heard his mother's quiet muttering. "Of all my regrets in life, you are the greatest. I should have drowned you in the river, as I originally wanted when you were born."  

The Darkling chuckled and turned to say, "That would be more merciful of you than the life you condemned me to, but that's your problem, matushka , you've never been merciful," and then he turned and headed for the exit with his deputy.  

They passed quietly through the archway and began to climb the stairs when Ivan spoke. " Moi suverennyy , don't you think it's time we got rid of the rats in our midst?"  

"Yes, Ivan," Aleksander confirmed with a nod, "I want you to find Fyodor and entrust him with this matter. I'm sure he'll be glad to get rid of the pests scurrying around."  

"Yes, sir," the Heartrender bowed his head.  

"And one more thing. We'll be going on a stag hunt in a few days, have Genya prepare the Sun Summoner for the journey," the Darkling ordered.  

Whatever game Alina has in mind, he will gladly play it. Baghra said that he wants to kill the deer himself? Well, in that case, Aleksander will do everything to convince Alina that this is not so, convince her that he can be trusted. However, if the girl makes one careless move, like trying to escape, he will certainly take away her power. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, isn't that what they say?  

"Are you still going to stick to the main plan?" If Ivan was surprised, he didn't show it. "I thought that after what happened, you wouldn't want to take risks and would resort to a backup plan, putting a collar on the girl."  

"No, Ivan, I will continue to follow the original plan," Aleksander shook his head.  

"It's risky, sir," his deputy frowned noticeably. “The girl won’t take our side voluntarily, she’s too attached to the life of otkaznik and doesn’t understand what it means to be Grisha.”  

Earlier, he was inclined to agree, but even then, the Darkling did not seek to chain Alina to himself, to make her a slave, it was always a backup plan. “She didn’t run away, Ivan,” Aleksander froze and turned his head to look at Ivan. “Today she had an opportunity, my mother blabbed to her about my plans, but Alina stayed. I must show a gesture of cooperation, undermining her trust would be a stupid move in the long run.” In the end, he wanted them to be equals, he wanted to see Alina as his companion in eternity, and so far she had not disappointed him.  

“Just because she didn’t run away now doesn’t mean she won’t later,” Heartrender made a good argument.  

“You’re right,” the Darkling nodded and continued on his way. “That's why I will keep her close to me, I will not give her the slightest chance to betray me, I will follow her like a second shadow.”  

“And how are you going to explain to others your excessive interest in the Sun Summoner?” Ivan raised an eyebrow in question.  

Aleksander grinned slyly. He had thought about this point for a long time. “Don't you think that I am old enough to have an heir?” he asked his deputy casually. Heartrender frowned, clearly not understanding what he was getting at. Alexander continued. “Alina seems like a suitable candidate for continuing the line, don't you think? She is the most powerful Grisha of all, except for me and my mother, of course, and she is the Sun Summoner, my direct opposite, I think she would be perfect for this role.”  

 “Excuse me, what?” his words stunned his deputy, he stood in the middle of the corridor and stared at him, not believing what he heard.  

The Darkling stopped and laughed cheerfully at the stunned Ivan. “What surprises you so much? I have carnal desires too, Ivan. I may be a century older than you, but I'm still a man with human needs like the rest of us, and I think it's time for me to continue my line,” he shrugged casually.  

That wasn't entirely true. He hadn't had a single child in centuries, he'd made sure not to have children with mortals and not to see them die. But Alina was immortal, and with her he could think about continuing his line, even if he didn't think it was necessary. The two of them were enough.  

"No," the Heartrender shook his head, finally coming out of his stupor. “It's not that I don't believe you have human needs, moi suverennyy , I'm just surprised by your choice. Starkova, well, she seems immature to me.”  

“She is my equal, Ivan, I am convinced of that,” Aleksander stated with all seriousness. Alina was his opposite, the light in his darkness, their connection proved the truth of his words.  

His deputy snorted contemptuously. "Sorry, but I don't think she's your equal in any way, sir."  

No wonder. Ivan had never liked Alina. He considered her immature, too attached to the life of otkaznik , a stupid girl. In some ways, the Darkling was inclined to agree, but he, unlike his deputy, saw potential in Alina. She just needed a little push in the right direction, and she would certainly become his equal.  

"Not yet," Aleksander nodded. "But that will change, in time."  

"So you intend to...?"  

“Marry her,” Darkling finished for Ivan. “Yes, Ivan, I will marry the Sun Summoner, and then I will make her my queen.” He was going to make her his, completely and utterly. Her heart, her mind, and eventually her body would belong to him alone. He had been married several times in his centuries of life — all but one were farces, attempts to gain political influence or hide his true identity, but this time he was determined to give this marriage everything. He felt an unimaginable attraction to his Alina, beyond common sense, he wanted to give her everything he had and lay it at her feet. This desire was dangerous, but it seemed to be quite mutual, considering that the girl did not fear his mother’s words and did not run away. She stayed, which meant that her attraction to him was stronger than her fear. Of course, provided that Alina hadn't planned something else, like trying to kill him by taking advantage of his sympathy for her. In that case, she would have no escape from his vengeance.  

"And is she aware of your intentions?" his deputy asked, looking sideways at him.  

“I will tell her when I think that my proposal will not be perceived as too hasty.” A slight smile flitted across his face. "We agreed to move slowly in our relationship. Tomorrow I'll invite her to dine with me."  

They stopped when they reached the doors with the familiar symbol of the sun in eclipse.  

"Well, I'm happy for you, sir," Ivan said, trying not to grimace. "With your permission, I'll inform Fyodor of his new assignment."  

“Fine, I'll be expecting you tomorrow morning with a report, as usual, Ivan.”  

Having bowed, his deputy hurried to the residential wing of the palace. Aleksander entered his chambers, making plans to involve Alina in his plans. The girl must help him in the implementation of his plans, one way or another. He would see to it.  

Chapter Text

Alina woke up with the first rays of the sun and began to think hard about how to outwit the centuries-old schemer and get the power of the Morozov stag into her hands. The only thought that came to her mind, oddly enough, was to seduce him, but how could she, having virtually no experience with the opposite sex, seduce a man with experience far beyond the normal? The only joy was that the Darkling, for some unknown reason, really liked her. Previously, the girl would have written it off as his desire to get her power, but yesterday's interaction had turned her away from such a train of thought. No, the Darkling was truly attracted to her herself, and not just to her power. He desired her, and this confused and angered him. So, the way out of the situation was simple: charm him, start a relationship with the Darkling, fall in love with her so much that he could not deprive her of her freedom. Except that on top of her lack of experience, there was another annoying problem: she was starting to fall in love with the Darkling. She was drawn to him like he was the opposite pole of a magnet, and Alina couldn't understand it at all. 

It had taken her years of being alone together in the orphanage to fall in love with Mal like a fool, and she and the Darkling had only known each other for half a year. How could she feel such a strong attraction to him? Was he somehow manipulating her feelings so that she would willingly give him her power and freedom? She tried to analyze their every interaction to see where the line between manipulation and truth was, and she couldn't find it. Was his first kiss manipulative? And the one they shared in the dark room at the Winter fete? All she could do was rely on her own instincts and hope that they wouldn't let her down. 

So, the ultimate plan was this: make the Darkling fall in love with her, take the stag's power for herself, and not fall in love with him in the process. The plan was very reliable. Virtually fail-safe. At least on paper. Alina buried her head in the pillow and groaned in frustration. She was doomed to fail. 

She was distracted from further grievous thoughts by an insistent knock on the door. Who could it be at such an early hour? Wasn't today a forced day off due to the fact that most of both palaces were recovering from hangovers? While she was thinking, the knock was repeated. 

"I'm coming," she said, reluctantly getting out of bed. 

She opened the door. Genya was waiting for her on the threshold of the room, looking radiant, as always. It seemed that she was not afraid of a hangover. “Hello, solnyshko, I heard you had an unforgettable night last night,” she greeted and entered the room carrying some kind of package with her. “How are you?” putting the package on the bed and taking Alina's hands, she asked with genuine concern. 

“Everything is fine, it will take more than a crazy old woman to get rid of me,” she answered with an awkward smile. 

“I’m glad to hear that you haven’t lost your wit,” the tailor smiled. Then the smile disappeared from her flawless face. “But still, why did Bagra attack you?” 

“I don’t know,” Alina shrugged, playing the fool. Genya was obviously sent by the Darkling to unobtrusively find out everything he needed. But he would have to try harder, because she would not be caught so easily. The girl collected her thoughts and decided to tell Genya the same story she had told him. “She was talking some nonsense about Fold and the Black Heretic, to be honest, I didn’t understand a word of her ravings. The old woman, it seems, did overheat in her hut,” she finished her legend with a laugh in her voice. 

However, the tailor was not laughing. “It's good that the Darkling showed up in time and saved you. But I'm interested in one question: what was he doing near your room so late at night?” Genya narrowed her amber eyes suspiciously. 

Alina blushed like a tomato. The tailor had warned him about powerful men, most likely meaning Darkling. In her own way, she was trying to warn her about his plans for her. But how much did Genya know? Was she part of the plan to enslave Alina, or was she just a pawn in the Darkling's hands? 

 “Well... it's...” the girl mumbled, unable to find the words. How could she tell her friend about what was happening between her and the Darkling, their General? 

“You don’t have to answer,” Genya snorted cheerfully, “his invitation and gifts speak for themselves.” The tailor reached for the package she had brought with her.  

These words caught Alina's attention. “What invitation and what gifts?” she asked. 

“See for yourself,” the tailor handed her a note, written in neat calligraphic handwriting, and a package. 

"Black suits you very well, I would like to see you in it at our joint dinner tonight, but it's up to you, I don't insist. - Darkling." 

Alina unwrapped the package. It contained a brand new winter black caftan with gold thread embroidered patterns of sunbeams and little suns, as well as another medallion with a symbol of the sun in an eclipse. The fabric of the caftan was soft, but thicker, not like her fete caftan that she had worn just yesterday, and the medallion was made of pure gold. Just think, the Winter Fete was just yesterday, but it seemed like an eternity had passed. It's amazing how life can turn around one hundred and eighty degrees in just one evening. 

"Well, and what do you think?" Her friend asked her opinion casually. 

"About what? An invitation to dinner or an "unobtrusive" offer to wear his colors and symbol from now on?" the girl raised an eyebrow, lights dancing in her golden-brown eyes. 

“Both. Will you accept his invitation and wear this amazing caftan and shiny jewelry?” Genya literally held her breath, waiting for an answer. 

The girl thought for a moment, and then, smiling slyly, answered, “Of course I will go, who, if he were in my place, would refuse to spend time alone with our beautiful mysterious General?” The Darkling gave her an excellent chance to implement her seduction plan. The main thing in the process was not to fall into his trap herself. The plan sounded extremely simple, there was no argument. 

“And the caftan and medallion? Will you wear them?” 

“Hmm,” Alina tapped her finger on her lower lip thoughtfully, although deep down she had already decided everything a long time ago. “I’ll accept the caftan, but I’ll leave the medallion until better times,” she finally answered. 

“Why do you refuse to wear his symbol?” the tailor frowned. “It's a great honor, Alina, not everyone gets the chance to wear the Darkling's symbol. Think carefully.” 

When Genya talked about what an honor it was to wear the Darkling's symbol and colors, she was clearly thinking about herself and her situation. She was a Grisha without her own color, just a servant of the Queen, however, Alina began to understand that everything was not so simple. Most likely, her friend was actually a spy who reported to the Darkling about the situation in the Grand Palace, which is why he sent her to her on the very first day. The tailor was spying on her, which is why Mal did not receive a single letter from her. And, although Alina was offended, she did not blame her friend for anything. All the blame lay solely with the Darkling. 

The girl shook her head. “I've already thought it all over. The caftan will make me his equal in the eyes of other Grisha, and the medallion, on the contrary, will show that I am simply his new pet,” Alina decisively lifted her chin, and then said. “I will agree to wear his symbol only if he wears mine in return.” 

“You want to be equal to him,” Genya understood, her eyes shining with pride for her. 

“Exactly,” she confirmed with a nod. Then Alina became a little embarrassed. “Genya, can I ask you for advice?” 

“Of course, solnyshko. What advice do you need?” 

“Do you know…” the girl looked away shyly and whispered, “how to make a man fall in love with you?” 

If Genya was surprised by her question, she skillfully hid it. A sly smile played on her full scarlet lips. “Alina, do you want to seduce the Darkling?” imps danced in her friend's amber eyes. 

“Perhaps,” she answered hesitantly, blushing. If she had to seduce the General of the Second Army himself to preserve her freedom, then so be it. Alina would not become his slave. 

“Who are you and what have you done with my sweet mouse friend Alina?” the tailor asked jokingly, clearly amused by her newfound determination. 

“I can't remain mouse Alina forever, I realized that after the Winter Fete. Yesterday I was shining, Genya, and I liked it, for the first time in my life I was the center of attention, I don't want to hide in the shadows anymore, like before,” the girl admitted honestly. “Besides, no one liked mouse Alina, including me,” she shrugged, the smile leaving her face when she remembered yesterday's quarrel with Mal. 

“What made you think that?” Genya was embarrassed. 

“I met Mal yesterday,” Alina carefully watched her friend’s reaction. 

The tailor tensed up. “And what did he say?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. “Did he answered why he didn't write you a letter?” 

“He said that he didn't receive them.” 

“That must have upset you a lot,” her friend placed her palm on top of hers in a supportive gesture, but Alina ignored it, knowing full well that it was Genya who had been intercepting the letters all this time. 

“That’s not the point,” the girl shook her head. “He said a lot of nasty things to me, said that I was in the Darkling's power, hinted that I was his whore!” Alina gritted her teeth. Mal's words still made her angry and deeply hurt. How dare he even hint at such a thing? Asshole! She wanted to punch him, it's a pity she didn't do it when she had the chance. 

"Sorry, but your so-called friend is a complete idiot, Alina," Genya expressed her opinion. 

“I agree with you,” the girl nodded. “And how could I love him? He doesn't deserve it at all! He dares to hint that I'm a slut, although he himself fucked half the First Army, while I sighed for him for years!” she smiled bitterly. 

She should have realized long ago that Mal was not for her. She always tried to be a loyal friend to him, was always there, took care of him, slowly suffocating because of this, but as soon as she blossomed, instead of being happy for her, he threw a tantrum that another man, who was superior to him in everything, was interested in her. Mal was so pathetic, he reminded her of a child, he didn't want to share a toy that he didn't even look at until someone else noticed it. 

Her friend shook her head. “Is that why you want to seduce the Darkling now?” Genya's eyes showed slight disappointment. “Did you decide to get even with your friend for offending you?” 

“No, not at all,” Alina softened. She hadn’t thought that her request to teach her how to seduce men could be perceived in such a way. It wasn’t about revenge on Mal, but about the desire not to lose her freedom... and not to lose a new relationship with a man she sincerely liked. 

“Then why do you need this?” the tailor asked, looking at her intently. “Your answer will determine whether I agree to help you or not.” 

“I…” the girl swallowed and, looking away, continued hesitantly, “I want to prove to myself that I am worthy of love, that Mal is not at all an indicator that I am not capable of making a man fall in love with me, that I deserve more than an insecure, insignificant tracker boy. 

“And for this you decided to target our General?” Genya grinned. “Your standards are high, though,” a sly smile spread across her perfect face. “I like your zeal.” 

“Don't think that I'm some kind of careerist, I didn't target the Darkling intentionally, it just so happened that he became interested in me!” Alina waved her hands sharply in denial. 

Her friend laughed at her. “Calm down, Alina, I was joking,” she brushed away the tears of laughter from her eyes. “I never even thought that you were like that, you’re not Zoya, after all, to hang around the Darkling in order to attract his attention and advance in position. Okay, I'll help you.” 

“Thank you, Genya,” the girl thanked her from the bottom of her heart. 

“So, usually, to please a man, a woman should let him talk as much as possible, men love the sound of their own voice, so a woman should never interrupt him. She should also be submissive, modest, satisfy all his needs and always laugh at any of his jokes, even if they are not funny. And of course, do not forget about appearance, a woman should look impeccable to please a man.” 

The more Genya spoke, the lower Alina's mood sank. She did not want to play the role of an obedient doll, always pleasing in everything. She tried to be like that for Mal, and in the end he wiped his feet on her. The girl will not tolerate this kind of relationship with the Darkling, she refuses to become his slave in any form. 

“However, the Darkling is not one of those men,” the tailor interrupted her gloomy thoughts. 

These words attracted Alina's attention. “Really?” she asked with timid hope. 

“Of course,” her friend confirmed happily. “The Darkling is one of those who respect power and honesty. If you want to charm him, then show him that you will have to be reckoned with, prove that you are not an obedient puppet, but an equal partner, use your power, make him respect you.” 

The girl’s spirits perked up. Finally, the right advice. The Darkling really did not seem like the kind of man who would be attracted to a painted, weak-willed doll. Judging from his conversations, he wanted an equal, and in order to win his heart, she would have to become a worthy rival. And it seemed that Alina knew where to start. 

Genya continued. “And for your own well-being, it’s better not to deceive him,” she warned, measuring the girl with a piercing gaze. “The Darkling despises liars and flatterers, which the Grand Palace is full of, so try to be as honest and open with him as possible, otherwise your fate will be unenviable, because the General is not famous for his mercy,” the tailor lowered her voice and took Alina by the hands. “Listen, not everything that is said about him is true, but he is really cruel to those whom he considers his enemies. Remember this, Alina.” 

Her friend's warning sobered her up a little. She needed to be careful with the Darkling — he was a dangerous man, she must not forget that. She did not want to deceive him at all, the only goal the girl pursued was to preserve her freedom. Alina could not trust him — he had already deceived her twice, so now she could only be as honest as possible, while continuing to stick to her plan. 

“I won't forget about it,” the girl nodded to the tailor. “Thank you, Genya, I will definitely take advantage of your advice.” 

Genya visibly relaxed. She rose to her feet and went to her suitcase with tailoring supplies. “Now let’s dress you up and highlight your assets so that all the inhabitants of the Little Palace will drop their jaws from your unearthly beauty,” her friend beckoned her to the dressing table. 

“Well, I certainly can’t surpass you,” Alina noted with a laugh. 

“You don’t have to be like me to slay everyone, solnyshko,” the tailor gently stroked her cheek. “I have my assets,” she pushed back her red curls shining in the sun, “and you have yours. Be yourself, because that's how I like you, and I'm sure the Darkling likes you too.” 

Alina smiled at her reflection in the mirror. Genya was right, she didn't need to be beautiful or as brash as Zoya. She needed to be herself, but until recently she hadn't understood who she was or what her place in the world was. She had hidden her whole life, afraid to show her true self to the world, and only recently had she begun to understand the great role she was destined to play. She was the Sun Summoner, the hope of Ravka. And potentially the Darkling's companion. Alina had suppressed herself all her life for Mal, but with the Darkling she didn't have to hide herself, her power, or diminish her importance. She had shone with him yesterday, and she would continue to shine no matter what. Even if he eventually tried to take her power away, she would not run from him, but would bravely accept the fight. That was what she had decided when, despite Baghra's threats, despite her fear, she had decided to stay here. 

*** 

"Are you sure you won't get scolded for being away for so long?" Alina asked, going down the stairs. 

"Don't worry," Genya waved her off, "The Tsaritsa hasn't even woken up yet, she's sleeping off yesterday's binge, and even after she wakes up, she'll probably be suffering from a severe hangover. She won't be thinking about her own beauty, I doubt I'll be needed in the Grand Palace today." 

"I can't imagine how you can live under the same roof with these people. They're awful! The Tsaritsa is a vain, arrogant fool, and the Tsar..." the girl grimaced at the thought of what he was doing to her poor friend. 

The tailor froze for a moment, pain flashed across her face, but in the end she pulled herself together and replied, “I'm used to it, don't worry about me.” 

“But no one should tolerate this!” she was indignant. How cruel was the Darkling that he allowed his spy to go through such humiliation? 

“It was my choice, Alina, please don’t judge it,” Genya approached her and took her hands, her eyes expressing pleading. “The Darkling gave me the opportunity to leave, but I decided to stay to help Ravka and all the Grisha.” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t condemn your choice at all,” the indignation on Alina’s face instantly gave way to a feeling of guilt; she didn’t want to upset her friend with her statements. She squeezed her hands in hers. “You are very brave, Genya, braver than me.” 

“Thank you, solnyshko,” the tailor thanked her heartily. “Now let’s go to breakfast, you must amaze everyone with your beauty, it wasn’t in vain that I tried,” with these words she dragged her towards the Dome Hall. 

The girl laughed at her friend's enthusiasm. "I have no doubt." Alina really did feel beautiful, without the usual bags under her eyes, with rosy cheeks, fluffy eyelashes, shiny light brown hair, and dressed in a brand new black caftan that emphasized all her newfound curves. She was definitely not mouse Alina anymore, and there was no way she would ever become one again. No way! 

She and Genya approached the Dome Hall. Inside, despite the early morning, it was quite lively, loud, bustling chatter could be heard. Alina sighed and, casting aside her nervousness, entered the hall. As soon as she crossed the threshold, all the voices immediately died down. The Grisha stared at her, many of their faces were frozen in undisguised surprise, and some even showed envy. Zoya was among the latter. “Alina, I thought that yesterday’s appearance in a black caftan was a one-time event,” she said, approaching her with a fake smile. 

“I thought so too,” the girl nodded, and then a gloating grin spread across her face, “but the Darkling said that black suits me and asked me to wear his color from now on. It really suits me, doesn't it?Э she spun around, demonstrating her new status to Nazyalenskaya and everyone around her. 

Zoya looked like she had eaten sour soup. It was an extremely funny sight. “Undoubtedly,” the Squaller gritted her teeth, but skillfully hid it behind another smile. “Sit down,” she stepped aside to let her through to the Ethereals’ table, where the equally stunned Nadya and Maria were already waiting for her. 

“Thank you for the invitation. Let's go, Genya, I see a free seat for you,” Alina took her friend frozen at the entrance by the arm and pulled her towards the tables. 

“Alina, I can’t, I…” the tailor began to make excuses. 

Zoya blocked their way. “It's not customary. Safina is a servant, Grisha is without color, she has no place at our table,” the Squaller threw a disdainful glance at Genya. 

“Who decided this?” Alina lifted her chin, refusing to give in to the long-legged Squaller. 

“That’s the tradition, you can’t break it, even if you were the Sun Summoner herself, Starkova,” Zoya was indignant, putting her hands on her hips and refusing to let Genya through. 

The girl snorted. What nonsense! “In that case, maybe I should ask the Darkling about this?” she crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head to the side. “Something tells me that he won’t be against Genya sitting at our table.” 

Nazyalenskaya clearly had no arguments for this statement. She gaped, unable to counter Alina’s words. The girl simply pushed past her, leading her friend, who was equally stunned by her statement, by the arm. 

“Sit down, Genya,” she said, seating the tailor opposite her. 

“Thank you, Alina,” Genya thanked her sincerely, tears glistening in her eyes. 

They sat down next to Maria and Nadya. The atmosphere was tense, Nadya and Maria were clearly not happy to see the tailor at their table, but, unlike Zoya, they didn’t dare object out loud. “Hello, Genya,” Maria greeted her awkwardly, finally defusing the situation a little. “Alina, you look amazing,” the inferni turned to face Alina with a sincere smile. 

“It’s all Genya’s merit, her abilities work wonders,” she answered, nodding towards the tailor. 

Genya blushed and said with a laugh, “Nothing special, I just emphasized your natural features.” 

“Are you going to wear black all the time now?” Nadya asked, not even looking at Genya. 

“Yes, I think this color suits me,” she confirmed with a nod and began to put honey into her oatmeal, which had just been brought to her. 

“The Darkling confirms, which is why he wanted you to wear his colors from the beginning,” the tailor intervened. 

These words attracted the attention of her friends. They looked at Alina, their eyes bulging comically. 

“The Darkling asked you to wear his colors from the very beginning?” Nadya was surprised. 

“And you didn't tell us?!” Maria asked in an offended tone. 

Alina was embarrassed. She felt stupid that she had initially refused to wear black out of a desire to be the mouse Alina - an image to which she had become so accustomed over the years of suppressing her powers, years in the shadow of Mal. “Yes, he offered to wear his colors from the very beginning, but I refused,” she reluctantly confirmed. 

“Why?” Nadya exclaimed, drawing the attention of those around them. “It's such an honor!” 

The girl lowered her head in shame and muttered, “I didn’t want to stand out.” She wanted more than anything in the world to return to life in oblivion, to Mal. Now she understood how stupid it sounded - they offered her the whole world at her feet, and she timidly hid in the closet, like a small stubborn child. But she would not hide anymore, she would not be afraid, it was over. 

“What changed?” Maria asked softly. 

“I changed,” Alina answered, looking into the eyes of the Inferni. “Yesterday, in front of everyone, I shone, and I liked it, I liked the new "me", so from now on, Alina Starkova will no longer hide. I will shine, as I was always supposed to.” 

“I actually think we’re all very glad that you decided to come out of the shadows, Alina,” Genya said, looking at her with pride. 

Maria and Nadya nodded in confirmation; they might not like the tailor, but they couldn't argue with her words. Everyone liked the new Alina, including herself. She became more... happier. Alive. 

“Okay, why are we always talking about me, how did you spend the Fete yesterday?” she asked the girls with a wide smile on her face. 

“Well, I danced twice with Seryozha yesterday,” Maria quietly admitted, blushing and curling up into a ball, full of embarrassment. 

“With Seryozha?” Alina's eyebrows shot up to her forehead. “Do you mean Sergei Beznikov? I thought you couldn't stand him!” 

Nadya snorted. “More like crazy about him. You should have seen how she was making eyes at him all evening yesterday, it was sickening to watch!” 

"Nadya!" the inferni exclaimed offendedly. 

Alina and Genya quietly chuckled at the squabbles of the two old friends. They continued their conversation, devouring the delicious oatmeal. Eventually, the atmosphere between Nadya, Maria and Genya calmed down, and the tailor easily joined their company, offering the latest gossip from the Grand and Little Palaces. When breakfast time came to an end, Alina decided to go to her favorite place - the library, where she sat until lunch. 

After lunch, she decided to take a walk, which she later regretted, because on the way back she had an extremely unpleasant meeting with the Apparat waiting for her. "Sankta Alina," the priest greeted casually. "Will you honor me with a little conversation with you?" 

Alina didn't want to talk to this creepy guy at all, but she knew perfectly well that he wouldn't leave her alone if she didn't agree. Besides, the Apparat knew something about the Darkling's dark dealings, this was a great opportunity to find out more about his plans. "Of course," the girl smiled falsely. "And please, don't call me Sancta, I'm no more a Saint than all the other Grisha." 

The priest looked offended by her statement. "You're not a Grisha, don't compare yourself to them, you're a Saint sent to this mortal earth with the mission of saving us, mere mortals." 

Alina tried not to grimace at his words. Damn fanatic. "Of course, how could I forget?" Her voice was full of sarcasm. "So what did you want to talk about?" 

“Our plans... took an unexpected turn. Soon I will replace the current monarchs and become the head of the country, and then I will be able to preach freely throughout Ravka about your holiness, O Sankta,” the Apparat smiled ominously, showing his uneven, rotten teeth. He reeked of incense and mold, which made her want to turn away, but she held back. She needed information. 

“Yes, I know about it,” Alina nodded, pretending to be in the know. “You have conspired with the Darkling.” 

“I assure you, this is only a temporary alliance, it will not last long,” the priest immediately began to justify himself. Then he turned his attention to her clothes and began to preach. “Such a pure soul as you should not associate with such a monster as he.” He grabbed her hand and, getting as close as possible, began to whisper, “When all power is in my hands, I will certainly do everything to get rid of him and free you from his evil influence.” 

Alina forced herself to smile again. “I am very grateful to you.” 

“Oh Sankta, you will surely be our salvation. You are the miracle that Ravka has been waiting for centuries,” his black beady eyes were full of greed. Goosebumps ran down the girl's spine. The priest was probably already making plans on how to use Alina for his own purposes, but he was in for a disappointment. Alina will not become anyone's puppet. 

“I have no doubt. With your permission, I will go,” the girl bowed and hurried back to the safe walls of the Little Palace. She felt his burning gaze on her back for a long time. 

Chapter Text

The Darkling rearranged the cutlery once again, awaiting Alina's arrival. He wasn't the least bit worried, not at all; he simply wanted the evening to go off without a hitch. Genya hadn't told him anything useful in today's report, so he had to carefully pry out what Alina really knew. Aleksander sighed and, rising to his feet, walked over to the mirror to make sure his appearance was appropriate for the evening. After all, he wanted to make the best possible impression on the girl. Of course, this was all done to further his plans—to lure the Sun Summoner to his side, to seduce her. Inappropriate feelings didn't bother him. He looked in the mirror: his black caftan with silver buttons and embroidered swirls of eyeshadow fit perfectly, his short black hair combed, and his face, as always, flawless. And yet, looking at his reflection, staring into those unchanging quartz eyes, Aleksander didn't recognize himself. Since when had he started acting like an awkward boy asking the girl he liked out on a date? He was the Darkling—the centuries-old leader of the Grisha, the Black Heretic, the terror of all the drüskelle in the north and the Shu scholars in the south. His enemies feared him, his allies trembled before him—he hadn't been a boy for centuries, and yet... Yet, at that moment, he acted like a boy. 

What was wrong with him? Ever since he encountered Alina, he'd been out of sorts—acting against logic, letting his emotions get the better of him. Could it be that Alina Starkova wasn't as simple as she seemed at first glance? Could she somehow influence him, his very thinking? It seemed unlikely, yet his recently awakened feelings seemed even less likely. There had to be some logical explanation. 

The Darkling sighed and considered everything. Perhaps the reason for his behavior was that he had finally found another immortal, a companion who could share the burdens of eternity. Aleksander had always dreamed of a partner, someone close to him, someone who could understand him, share his dreams of a safe haven for the Grisha, someone who wouldn't judge his ambitions, as his mother had for centuries, calling him a foolish boy, a short-sighted dreamer. With the appearance of Alina, despite everything, this hope was strengthened in him, and with her decision to stay with him, he allowed himself to dream of more. The Darkling clearly envisioned them both seated on suitable thrones—not the ornate monstrosities typical of the Lantsovs, but neatly carved ebony ones with gold trim. He vividly imagined himself and Alina ruling hand in hand, as equals, as partners. As husband and wife. Dreams were dangerous, Aleksander should not allow himself to be carried away by fantasies, but focus on how to make them come true, and for this, Alina must be devoted to him. The easiest way to win the girl over to his side was to make her fall in love with him, to take her heart and body, to marry her, to bind her forever. This was precisely what he had in mind when he told Ivan of his plans. There was no talk of feelings, except perhaps a slight attraction between him and Alina. The Darkling could not afford such weakness. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. The double doors swung open, and two oprichniks ushered a visibly nervous Alina into his chambers. He glanced at her: she looked radiant, her cheeks rosy, her light-brown hair neatly combed and glistening in the sun, and she was wearing the brand-new black caftan he'd given her. In short, Alina looked magnificent, and his traitorous heart skipped a beat. 

“Alina, it’s good to see you,” Aleksander greeted, smiling broadly and showing off his snow-white teeth. 

"Thank you for the invitation," a shy smile flickered across her face. "And for the gifts, but perhaps that was unnecessary. I'm not accustomed to such attention." 

"Forgive me," he ran his hand over his black-haired crown. "I'm not entirely sure how courting works these days; my last courtship was a long time ago." 

A spark of interest lit in her golden-brown eyes. "How long ago?" she asked innocently. 

"It seems like a lifetime ago," the Darkling casually shared a nugget of information that could potentially reveal his true identity, carefully observing her reaction. He was trying to find out how much she really knew, and whether she would dig deeper, testing him for a lie. 

However, Alina surprised him. "I see," she replied with a chuckle, and then, as if nothing had happened, moved toward the table. 

Aleksander pulled out a chair for her and sat her down opposite him. "How was your day? Were you able to rest after Baghra's attempt on your life?" 

"A little," the girl shrugged. “In fact, I try not to think about this incident; it’s scary to imagine that my potential killer was calmly walking through these halls just recently.” 

"I apologize once again for allowing this to happen," the Darkling placed his palm over hers and looked into her eyes. “This palace was built as a place where Grisha should be kept completely safe, but even here, we cannot help but look over our shoulders. Such is the fate of our people.” And so it will continue until he takes power in Ravka and uses the Fold to intimidate his enemies—Grisha will never be safe until they gain power. 

"I know little about the history of your…" she trailed off, then continued, "that is, our people, because my training is so accelerated. Tell me more about what it's like to be a Grisha." 

Aleksander considered. What could he say without giving himself away? What should he say to influence Alina, to convince her of the necessity of his further actions? His eyes met hers, and the decision was made for him. He must tell her the truth. “Before the Second Army was created, the Grisha lived like shadows, persecuted by everyone and everywhere. Being a Grisha was effectively a death sentence—many children were killed for their gifts, and those who sympathized with the Grisha were cruelly punished as undesirable. Few of our people survived to adulthood, and those who did lived in nomadic camps or remote places to avoid detection. With the advent of the Little Palace, the situation improved somewhat in Ravka and the newly formed Novy Zem, but the overall picture remains quite depressing: in Shu Han, we are dissected like rats in search of the source of our power, in Kerch, we are sold as slaves, in Fjerda, we are burned as witches, and on the Wandering Isle, we are harvested for our organs in search of a cure for all ills.” 

"Why were the Grisha hunted before?" Alina asked. "There must be some reason for such hatred." 

"We were hunted and continue to be hunted for the simple reason that we are different, Alina. People always fear what they cannot understand; it's a natural, deep-rooted fear." 

"It seems unfair." A deep wrinkle formed between the girl's brows. "It's not the Grisha fault that they were born with their powers." 

 "That's life," the Darkling smiled mirthlessly. "My ancestors and I did everything in our power to change it." 

"Even the Black Heretic?" She looked up at him curiously. 

"Especially the Black Heretic." 

"The people consider him a villain. Until now, I thought you agreed with that opinion." Alina tilted her head to the side. She was trying to coax the truth out of him with great delicacy, which only confirmed that the girl had believed Baghra's tales. In that case, the only remaining question was: why was she here now? Why didn't she leave? What was she trying to achieve? Alexander decided to test the boundaries between truth and lies, so he went for the honesty. 

"I lied to you," he admitted honestly, bowing his head in shame. "That time, when we spoke about the Black Heretic, I told you the accepted version of history." 

"But you know another version," Alina continued the thought for him. 

The Darkling nodded. 

"Why did you lie?" Strange as it might sound, there was no condemnation in her eyes, only a hint of interest. 

"I didn't think you'd believe me if I told you the truth," he explained. "You were too attached to the life of otkaznik, to their superstitions about me and our people; I didn't want to push you away." 

"So why did you decide to be honest now?" 

"Because you're still here. You're here, and you're asking the right questions," Aleksander leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands, curiosity gleaming in his gray eyes. "These are just my observations, but for some reason, it seems to me that you're not as attached to your past life as you once were. Am I right?" 

Alina smiled sadly, shrugging. "Let's just say I realized I was attached to the wrong person before. However, I still have trouble distinguishing between Grisha and ordinary Ravkans; that's where you and I differ radically." 

"That's normal," he assured her, shrugging. "We don't have to agree on everything. The main thing is that our goals align." 

"And what are your goals?" she inquired. 

"To protect the Grisha and Ravka, from both external and internal threats," the Darkling stated without preamble, watching her reaction closely. 

He read a multitude of questions in her eyes, questions she didn't dare voice. She was clearly trying to figure out whether he could trust his words. Finally, she couldn't resist asking, and the question slipped easily from her lips, "By internal threats, you mean Zlatan and the talk of secession for West Ravka?" 

"Not only." 

"And who else do you consider a threat to Ravka?" Alina was clever. She knew the answer to her own question, but she was gently pushing him to answer it himself. He smirked. A cunning girl. However, he's not so easy to catch at his word. 

"Tell me honestly, Alina, what do you think of the Lantsovs as rulers?" Aleksander steered the conversation in a different direction. 

"That seems an unfair question. You're a servant of the crown, Darkling. What guarantee do I have that if I express my honest opinion, I won't be immediately shackled as a conspirator?" She leaned a little closer, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Alina was toying with him, challenging him to a game; that was obvious. He had no choice but to accept their little performance. 

"You hurt me, Alina," he said, clutching his chest, feigning offense. "I would never betray the girl I'm courting to the crown. I may be a loyal servant of the monarchy, but that doesn't mean I don't have my own opinion on them." 

"And what's your opinion on the Lantsovs?" 

"Hmm, let's do this. You tell me your honest opinion, and I'll tell you mine in return." The Darkling rested his cheek on his fist, a grin undisguised. 

"Where's the guarantee you won't adjust your opinion to match mine?" Alina retorted, crossing her arms. 

"I give you my word." 

The girl narrowed her eyes suspiciously, no doubt wondering what his word was truly worth. However, in the end, she decided to make a gesture of cooperation. "Okay," Alina nodded. "Based on what I saw during my visit to the Grand Palace and my brief career as a cartographer's assistant, I consider the Lantsovs to be idle slackers at best. The country is in decline, the common people are starving, and yet they continue to live their lives of luxury, unconcerned about the suffering of their people. They are unfit to rule." The anger was palpable at the end of her short tirade. As far as he knew, Alina wasn't particularly talented as an actress, so he had no choice but to accept her words at face value. “Your turn. What do you, the second most powerful man in the country, think of the current monarchs?” 

"I consider them parasites, draining Ravka dry," he decided to be as honest as possible. "Their time has passed, and for Ravka to prosper, they must be overthrown." 

"And you intend to do so." It wasn't a question. 

The Darkling nodded in confirmation anyway. "You have no objections, I take it?" He narrowed his piercing gray eyes. 

"No," Alina shook her head. "But I'm interested in how you plan to do it and who will take the Lantsovs' place?" 

"I'd prefer to discuss my plans in a different setting; we're on a date right now," Aleksander pointedly sipped the burgundy liquid from his glass. "The answer to your second question is right here in front of me." 

Alina's eyes widened. "Me? You want to put me on the throne?!" " she exclaimed, her sweet face expressing nothing but utter shock. 

He smiled, taking another sip of wine, feeling the alcohol trickle down his throat. It seemed he had managed to surprise her today after all. However, her reaction was unsurprising; it was logical that his mother wouldn't have told Alina he planned to make her Queen of Ravka, after all, her goal was to frighten her, to make her flee without looking back. The prospect of becoming the mother of an entire nation didn't seem so terrifying; many would have been glad to take Alina's place. "Are you surprised? You are the most suitable candidate for the future Queen, Alina." 

"But why me?!" the girl persisted. "I know nothing about governing a country. I thought... I thought you would want to rule yourself!" 

"There are two thrones on the dais, milaya," Aleksander chuckled. "You will be the Tsaritsa, and I will be the Tsar. I will teach you everything you need to know, you will not be alone. I would not leave you alone to pull the country out of the swamp the Lantsovs have driven it into." 

"You still haven't answered the question of why it should be me," Alina said, her expression unwavering. A frown was clearly written on her face. 

"It's simple. You are the hope of Ravka, a living Saint. Right now, altars are being erected to you across the country and even beyond its borders, people are praying to you, Alina, and faith is a great power. The people will be glad to see you on the throne, even if the other one is occupied by a soulless monster like the one they see me as," he explained patiently. 

The Darkling knew the power of faith firsthand; for him, it was a thing of the past—the people who once praised him had ultimately either turned against him or turned to ashes. He would never forget the circumstances under which the Fold had been created. Religious fanaticism was harmful in the long run, but in the short term it could bear fruit, which he intended to take full advantage of. 

"You conspired with the Apparat," and again, it was a statement, not a question. 

Aleksander nodded. He wondered if his mother had let slip about his connection with the priest, or if the Apparat himself had let it slip. Nothing was certain with this fanatic; he was a snake by nature, and the Darkling had no doubt the priest would sooner or later try to erase him from the equation. He snorted, let the pathetic worm try. 

"I would advise you to be careful with him; he's a fanatic and he has his own plans," the girl warned. 

These words caught his attention. 

"You know something," Aleksander narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 

"Yes, and I'll tell you about it when you tell me about your plans," the girl gave him an ultimatum. 

The Darkling chuckled. If he'd wanted, he could easily extract all the information he needed from Alina, but he decided to play along and see how long this charade would last, how far she was willing to go to extract the truth from him. Alina, naturally, was no match for him in mind games, at least not right now, but this little charade seemed fascinating, so Alexander gave in. "Fine, we'll discuss it later. For now," he raised his glass demonstratively, "let's enjoy our evening together and get to know each other a little better. After all, we have a date," the Darkling smiled at her, causing her to blush noticeably. 

“A-as you say,” she looked away, shyly tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "What do you want to know?" 

He thought for a moment, then asked, "What kind of flowers do you like?" 

"Flowers?" the girl raised an eyebrow. "You want to ask about flowers?" 

"Why not? I need to know what flowers to send you," Aleksander shrugged. 

Alina looked at him strangely, blinked, and then replied, "I like blue irises, if you're really interested." A faint smile flitted across her face. "Now it's my turn to ask." 

"Of course, go ahead." 

"What's your real name?" she asked. The smile instantly vanished from his face. "I'll never believe you were named Darkling. You must have a name, and I want to know it." 

"Why?" he asked, his tone colder than he'd intended. The Darkling didn't want to push her away, but she'd asked too personal a question. His name was his most closely guarded secret; only he and his mother knew it. Of course, he'd tell Alina... one day, when he was certain of her fidelity. 

The girl looked at him, genuine confusion written in her golden-brown eyes. "What do you mean, why? Every acquaintance begins with a name. How can I be your companion if I don't even know yours?" 

Aleksander sighed. She was right, but... "My name is a secret, Alina; I can't just reveal it to you." 

The girl nodded, but he noticed the disappointment evident in her posture. Alexander took her hand in his and gently brushed his lips over her knuckles. "I will definitely tell you when I'm ready." He looked into her eyes and silently vowed that he would definitely tell her his name when the time came. Right now, their relationship seemed too early; they were just getting to know each other. The Darkling didn't want to reveal his most cherished secret, only to be ultimately disappointed. He would wait, make sure Alina wasn't deceiving him, that she wasn't plotting an escape, and only then would he reveal himself. 

Their private moment was interrupted by another knock at the door: the servants had brought their dinner. Aleksander removed his hand. Placing the trays on the table, three gray-robed servants bowed and hurried away, leaving him and Alina alone again. 

"It's about time for dinner. I hope you're hungry?" 

"I'm starving," Alina smiled. 

He opened the cloche and saw a plate of delicious shchi. The girl, seeing the dish offered for dinner, snorted cheerfully. 

"What's so funny?" the Darkling asked. 

"For some reason, I thought you, like the other Grisha in the palace, ate simple peasant food. It's so typical of you—you could eat like a Tsar if you wanted, but you prefer simple yet nutritious fare. A true soldier." 

Aleksander tilted his head to the side. "You don't like the food?" 

"As long as it's not pickled herring, it's fine with me," Alina replied with a chuckle. 

"You don't like herring?" he asked. His eyes sparkled with amusement. He hadn't had such a casual conversation in a long time. 

"I hate it," the girl confirmed with a smile. 

"Hm," the Darkling chuckled. "Well, I'll keep that in mind. What kind of food do you like?" 

Alina beckoned him over. He leaned forward, and she began whispering in his ear, "It's a big secret, but I absolutely adore sweets." Her hot breath sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. 

He decided to play along and began whispering back, "Don't tell anyone, but I have a sweet tooth too." Aleksander pretended to look around, then continued, "Sometimes I sneak into the pantry and steal sweets when no one is looking. My forays even gave rise to the legend of a domovoy with a sweet tooth." 

The girl tried in vain to stifle the chuckle that escaped her lips with her hand. "Why would you do that? Wouldn't it be easier to just ask? I'm sure no one would dare reproach the mighty Darkling for his excessive love of sweets," she said, no longer whispering. 

He pulled away from her, feeling unnaturally shy. Why had the Darkling even decided to be so open? It was unusual for him, but there was something about Alina that made him feel more relaxed, it was easy to talk to her, at ease. He had no idea how much he'd missed this kind of small talk before meeting the Sun Summoner. "I'm a role model for the other Grisha, Alina. I must be impeccable, so I can't indulge my weaknesses, no matter how insignificant," he explained with a serious expression. 

The smile on her face faded. She reached across the table, her hand touching his cheek. His breathing faltered. “But you're just a man, Darkling, behind all these titles and the burden of responsibility. Is it really so bad to allow yourself at least a little simple joy in life? All this weight of responsibility, this pressure, it must be terribly lonely,” Aleksander saw genuine sympathy in her eyes. 

It made his heart beat a little faster. This girl looked at him and saw not a stoic General or a monster, but a living, breathing person. It was exciting. It was weakness. Finally, he pulled his hand away from his face and kissed her knuckles, saying, “Don’t worry about me, milaya. I'm used to this burden, it doesn't weigh me down at all,” that was the truth. He wasn't burdened by loneliness, nor was melancholy suffocating him in its cold embrace. The Darkling did all this for the Grisha; his humanity was a small price to pay for providing them with a safe haven. He hadn't felt pain in a long time; he'd lost that feeling centuries ago. Aleksander released her hand and, clearing his throat, said, "Let's begin eating before the soup gets cold." 

Alina smiled sadly at him, then nodded. They dined in awkward silence, and then the Darkling called the servants to clear the dirty dishes and bring tea. Realizing he needed to somehow defuse the tension, he began asking various questions. He learned that Alina had suffered from loneliness for a long time, and that her only friend in the orphanage was the tracker to whom she had been writing letters all these months. After arriving at the Little Palace, she had been afraid to let anyone near her for a long time, fearing they would only befriend her because of her status. This was all too familiar to Aleksander, since ever since he first commanded the Second Army, many had tried to curry favor with him because of his status as a loyal advisor to the Royal Family. He squeezed her hand. "I understand your concerns, Alina, but you mustn't isolate yourself. Pretenders will eventually reveal themselves, and your true friends will stay with you until the end."  

Alina nodded. "You're right. Besides, I can't run away from who I am, from my new status, forever." 

"You have to prove to people that you deserve your status, that you'll be reckoned with," the Darkling looked at her sternly. "I know it won't be easy, but I believe in you." 

"Yes, Genya told me the same thing today." She smiled, her eyes shining. "Actually, I have a favor to ask of you." 

"What is it?" He tilted his head to the side. 

"Will you be able to come to training with Botkin tomorrow? I want to show you my progress over the past six months." 

Aleksander's lips twitched. "I'll try to find time in my schedule," he promised. 

"Thank you," the girl intertwined her fingers with his. 

There was another knock on the door, and they pulled away from each other, embarrassed. The servants brought hot tea and buns, bowed, and departed. 

"So, what about Morozov's stag?" Alina asked, pouring tea into a porcelain cup. "Have you already organized the trip north?" 

"I'm almost finished packing," the Darkling bit into a bun, tasting the sugar on his lips. He licked his lips. "We, together with a troop of trusted men, will set out on a hunt in two days." 

"Am I coming too?" she asked, surprised. 

"Of course," Aleksander confirmed, casting a searching glance at the girl. "How else could you kill a stag and take its antlers as a power amplifier?" He extended an olive branch. The Darkling was offering her the stag's power in exchange for her loyalty. He sincerely didn't want to take her power, even if it was the easiest way to ensure everything went according to his plan. However, if she pulled some trick, Aleksander would be forced to do what was necessary. Alina should understand that. 

"Have you decided who will join the squad yet?" she steered the conversation in another direction. 

“I’ll take several oprichniks, Ivan, Sergei Beznikov, Zoya Nazyalenskaya, David Kostik and another experienced inferni named Lev Bezrukov,” he replied, taking a sip of tea. 

"Will you take Zoya?" the girl grimaced, as if she'd found a sour taste in her bun. 

“She asked for another chance, said she'd certainly prove herself a good soldier. I decided to take her on this mission to check the veracity of her words,” the Darkling bit off another (already the third) bun, after which he washed it down with tea, generously flavored with three spoons of sugar. "You think she's unsuitable for this mission?" 

"I don't doubt Zoya's abilities, I just don't like her," Alina shrugged, taking a sip of tea (she, like him, had added three spoonfuls). 

"Milaya, you'll be working with people you don't like more than once in the future. You'll have to learn to accept your feelings." 

"I understand," she nodded again. "But I still think Zoya is an arrogant, stuck-up brat," the girl muttered quietly. 

Aleksander chuckled. "You have every right to feel that way, just try not to voice it." 

"Agreed," she said, hiding her grin behind her cup. 

They finished their tea in comfortable silence. Then Alina glanced at her watch. "I think I should go. You're probably busy, and I still need to read a few chapters on Grisha theory for tomorrow's practice with the new instructor." 

"I'll see you out," he said, standing up from the table and pulling out her chair, helping her to her feet. 

"Thank you, but that's not necessary," the girl assured him. "I don't want to distract you from important matters." 

"I insist," he looked at her intently, his quartz eyes shining. 

Alina stared at him for a moment, trying to read his expression, to discern his intentions, then nodded. "As you say." 

The Darkling opened the door for her, and they walked leisurely toward her chambers, bypassing the Domed Hall, along the very same path he had shown her on her first day of school at the Little Palace. Alina hurried up the steps, now healed from her debilitating illness; she did so effortlessly. He was overjoyed for her. Finally, they reached the doors with their carved suns, where her personal guards waited patiently. Aleksander nodded to the oprichniks and ordered them to disappear from view for the moment. Two oprichniks bowed and quickly disappeared around the corner. 

"Well, I suppose it's time to say goodbye," Alina said, fiddling with her fingers. 

"Before I go, I'd like to do something, if you don't mind." He approached her. 

"What?" The girl held her breath and bit her lip, blushing. 

"This," the Darkling closed the remaining distance and touched his lips to hers. It was supposed to be a light brush of lips, barely a touch, but as soon as he felt the softness of her lips against his, savored their taste, something within him broke, and without realizing it, he pulled her to him, practically devouring her with his mouth, their tongues locked in a furious battle. Alina moaned, her hands clutching at his hair, tangling her fingers through the black strands. Aleksander tasted her sweetness; he wanted to devour her, to swallow her whole, but with great effort, he forced himself to pull away. They were both breathing heavily, their hot breaths mingling. The Darkling commanded his body to obey and released her from his embrace. Alina blushed furiously, turning into one big ball of embarrassment. 

"Goodnight, Alina," Aleksander kissed her cheek and walked away a few steps. 

"G-goodnight," she muttered, unable to look him in the eye, before disappearing through the double doors. 

He grinned. His plan was going flawlessly. Alina was madly in love with him. Soon she would completely succumb to his charms, and then her devotion would be his. As he made his plans, the Darkling tried his best to ignore his racing heart.