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- He'll Be Back for Her (first part of my story) -

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”He was born on the night of Winter Solstice, when the barrier between the worlds is whisper-thin and when magic, old magic, sings its heady and sweet song to anyone who cares to hear it.”

Although West Ravka did not feel much difference after being handed over to its new Regent, Aleksander Morozova, practically everything had changed for him. People who had learned to appreciate the safety he provided them when The Black General had been only their governor, breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that even in the event of a new armed conflict, their ruler would do everything to repel the invader.

The Darkling had not even managed to enjoy his new regency before he had set off on another journey, but he had not returned from it the same as when had he left Os Kervo. And although he had saved his life, he had paid a very high price for it. Of course, his situation now seemed to be much better than when he had crawled half-dead from the bowels of the former Shadow Fold. But something was making him more alert and not letting him escape from another act of desperation that had pushed him to a solution so extreme that it could once again destroy everything he himself had worked so hard to rebuild.

What would be the cost of his will to survive this time? Would merzost again demand the ultimate price for Aleksander Morozova's willingness to keep his word? Would it be like it had been more than four centuries ago, when he himself had lost nothing but most of his humanity? Or would merzost only taint his body this time, as it had done when he has used it for the second time?

The Darkling winced barely perceptibly with pain, staring at the flames dancing in the fireplace which was placed before his eyes. He knew that it would take him another few days to fully recover. The stab he had received straight into the chest had proven to be a fatal blow. And although his body tissues had already healed, the suffering was still written into the structure of his essence, becoming his grim companion.

The Black General could call himself lucky, because any less powerful Grisha would not have survived such a confrontation, even with the intervention of several Healers. Only, the cost of life still seemed impossible to estimate. And since it had nothing to do with the physical symptoms caused by the creation of nichevo'ya, Aleksander decided to watch it all closely and do nothing about it for now. The Shadow Summoner knew that he would not be able to get out of this unscathed, but each time the cost had turned out to be completely different. Unfortunately, the solution Alina had used near The Fold would not work in his case, because he himself was a living amplifier. Therefore, he could not get rid of the merzost like his precious girl had. The only thing that could help him was another death. But this time there was no way to resurrect him, which meant that there had to be another way out. And now, with Aleksander's family about to grow, he himself could not rest until he found it. Not so much for himself, but for those to whom he had sworn eternal devotion and protection.

The Darkling reached for the poker and, gritting his teeth slightly, stirred the dying coals in the fireplace. Some of them glowed orange like hope that had briefly flared up, but would soon fade forever.

The Black General took a deep breath, discovering that the difficulty in breathing was becoming less and less of a problem for him. Maybe he would actually overcome this obstacle? Unfortunately, Alina seemed to have a different opinion on the subject. Although he should be the one taking care of her now, she was not indebted to him at all. He saw her furtive glances that she threw at him whenever a grimace appeared on his face. Sometimes she could not help herself and would once again remind him of the trip to Shu Han.

Normally, Aleksander would not be able to fight off the irritation that was taking hold of him, but in her case he was aware that it was caused solely by concern. And it was a strange feeling for someone who did not understand what tenderness was. The Darkling felt as if he was treading on thin ice, entering completely new territory. And the most disturbing thing about it all seemed to be that fate had thrown him into the deep end without any preparation, without any warning. All of his instincts immediately came to the fore, dominating his every action and every thought.

Although Aleksander had learned from his own experience that The Iron Heart program was not just some niche project run by the hatred-ridden former ruler of Ahmrat Jen, but a real threat, he was aware that he had to delay the war looming over the Sikurzoi mountain range for as long as possible. And although Queen Leyti had promised him that she would honor the terms of the peace treaty with Ravka, the new Regent could deceive himself that she herself had little say in the matter, since she sat on a throne from which she could be thrown at any moment, and Lantsov Puppy had committed himself to a marriage that not only could not help either side of the conflict, but would even inflame it. And in the middle of all this chaos, there was her. His Sun Summoner. Her and what she carried in her womb. Something that made Aleksander's heart beat faster with excitement, uncertainty, and anxiety at the thought of it.

The Black General leaned the poker against the grate in the fireplace just as a knock sounded at the door. It certainly couldn't be Alina, because at this time of day she and David usually spent time in the library. Ever since they had returned from Os Alta, his precious girl occupied her time this way while the Darkling worked. The new Regent was somewhat glad of it, because he knew she was safe there. What's more, his Sun Summoner deserved some entertainment. Sitting in a chamber all day could be very tiring. Besides, in a place like the library, Aleksander could keep an eye on her constantly. What if she fainted or needed The Healer's intervention? There was always someone there to help her, and it didn't seem like anyone was controlling her. Or at least that was what the Darkling was counting on.

So no, it couldn't be Alina. The Black General knew her schedule well enough to dismiss such an opportunity out of hand. It had to be someone who knew well enough that they wouldn't find him in his office. And that fact alone demanded that this matter be taken even more seriously than usual.

“Come in!” The Shadow Summoner called, straightening up in his chair.

The door opened slightly and Genya Safin peeked in. As soon as the Darkling saw her, his face brightened a bit. The man had planned to meet with The Tailor as soon as possible, so he was glad to see her. Especially since he didn’t want Alina to have another reason to worry.

“Genya,” he greeted her, suppressing a slight grimace. “I appreciate you coming here right away when I asked you to.”

The redhead approached him with slow steps, waiting for Aleksander to allow her to take the seat next to her. Only when he motioned for her to sit down in the chair next to him did she cautiously do so.

“Of course, General. I treat your orders as my top priority,” The Tailor replied, looking him straight in the eye. “I heard you needed me for two things.” Her gaze slid along his figure, as if searching for some clue.

The Darkling nodded, wondering how to put it all into words so as not to alarm Genya, but at the same time get all the information he needed.

"First, I must ask for your discretion on both matters," he told her, trying to show her with his gaze that he wanted the redhead to obey unconditionally. "This is an order, Genya, so I expect that until we agree on something, Alina will not find out about anything. And this is all for her own good," The Shadow Summoner added, knowing that his precious girl valued her acquaintance with Corporalki, and therefore what he was doing was not a show of control, but merely a desire to protect her from things that were not advisable for her in her condition.

Or at least that was how he saw it himself. Alina's health was a great concern to him, and if he added to her additional stress, he could blame himself for the rest of eternity.

“You are my commander, General,” Genya replied, straightening up in her chair. “And as long as Alina’s well-being is not at risk, you have my unconditional loyalty.”

The Black General nodded at that. He and the redhead had the same goals, and now at least they were no longer divided by a conflict of interests. Previously, it had been mainly his precious girl who had become their bone of contention. Now Alina stood by his side because she wanted to, not putting The Tailor in a situation where she had to choose something.

“It’s good that you started with Alina yourself,” Aleksander replied, his face quickly turning serious. “I noticed that she looks like something is bothering her.” Here the Corporalki’s gaze made him complete his statement. “I mean, of course something is bothering her, but I can see that she hardly eats anything, has dark circles under her eyes, and sleeps a lot. I didn’t notice that before, so what do you think is the cause, Genya?” he asked in a calm tone, but his gaze became watchful.

The Tailor also paled visibly at the question. She herself had clearly seen these symptoms, and although Grisha's pregnancy was known for complications that otkazats'ya did not know, carrying with it a huge risk, especially for the mother, in his precious girl's case it all coincided too much in time. And it was because of this that the Darkling fell into something like paranoia. He fought it with all his might, but he knew it was an unequal fight. He had to control himself on the outside, but what was happening inside him resembled a battlefield, and one in which he was not the winner.

“I’m worried about that too, General,” the redhead told him, trying to stay calm. “I noticed it after you returned from Os Alta, moi Soverenyi. It was as if your expedition to Tula Valley had changed something, but not so immediately or so abruptly. So I think there’s some connection here. Unfortunately, I don’t know what it is. Maybe it has something to do with who the children’s parents are. Because I don’t think anything like that has ever happened with a Grisha of this rarity, sir,” The Tailor replied, but she also seemed eager to confirm her suspicions. “What am I saying,” she added after a moment. “We didn’t even know The Sun Summoner existed until recently.”

Aleksander felt something squeeze his chest painfully, like a vice, and this time it had nothing to do with the wound the khergud had inflicted on him a few days earlier. Why had something like this happened to his Alina? Was there any way to reverse this, or if not, at least slow it down? The Darkling was also to blame for her condition, so why should she be the only one suffering now?

His fear-filled thoughts were interrupted by Genya's next question.

"And the second thing, moi Soverenyi?" she asked, causing The Shadow Summoner to frown, knowing that he shouldn't delay this forever.

He held out his hand towards The Tailor, waiting for her to take it, even though she didn't do so immediately, wanting him to give her verbal permission.

"Touch me, Genya," The Black General commanded her in a firm tone. "And tell me exactly what you feel."

The red-haired Corporalki cast a wary gaze on her commander's face, then took his hand in hers, closing her eyes slightly. With each passing second, her expression changed. At first a small frown appeared on her brow, then uncertainty, and finally doubt. After a moment, Genya let go of his palm, discovering that Aleksander had not taken his eyes off her even for a second.

"Can you sense merzost?" he asked her shortly, because he knew the answer perfectly well.

All he really cared about was learning the extent of the damage and what his prognosis was. Of course, the Darkling had dealt with dozens of The Healers since he had returned from Caryeva, but in order to sense dark magic, The Corporalki had to know what they were looking for. Aleksander was a living amplifier, and therefore had merzost in his bloodstream. Only Genya could tell, since she had been the only one to examine his condition after The Shadow Summoner had crawled out of The Shadow Fold.

The Tailor nodded shortly.

"Yes, General," she said, a hundred conflicting emotions written all over her face.

Aleksander didn't answer her because he didn't really have any illusions about it. Instead, he focused on assessing his situation.

"Tell me, is it the same as when I freed you from the cage of The First Army?" he asked his Corporalki, carefully studying her face and trying not to show any emotion.

Genya shook her head and now seemed to be actually relieved. She wasn't tense, as if she was hiding something. Her entire body language showed that she was telling the truth.

"No, moi Soverenyi," she replied. "I can say with certainty that the merzost is barely noticeable. That's why it took me so long to make sure of it."

Aleksander felt a sense of calm spread through his body. If it had been just him, he would probably have accepted it the same way he had before. But now this problem affected not only the whole of Ravka, but also someone the new Regent had promised himself to take care of as long as he didn't ensure their absolute safety.

"Then I have plenty of time," he said, more to himself, but The Tailor immediately picked up on it. "

"General, but Alina..." she began, but the Darkling gave her a pointed look, telling her to keep that opinion to herself.

"I will wait until it is known that Alina's health is stable," The Shadow Summoner replied, looking The Corporalki straight in the eye. "Until I am certain that she herself is not feeling well, I will not add to her nerves. And it is not about me at all, but about her. You said that you can hardly sense the alien merzost in me, and let us focus on that. Do you understand it, Genya?" There was a quiet command in The Black General's voice, suggesting that he himself did not intend to discuss the matter.

The Tailor's face darkened, and an indefinable stubbornness was written on it.

"I will not betray your trust, moi Soverenyi," she told him after a moment, although it did not come easily to her. "You know very well that I will not," she added. "But while you were gone, Alina hardly left your bedroom. She didn't eat with the others, spending time either in the library or with Ivan. Something inside her had faded, and I know why. She was worried about you, General. And now she's still doing it. You have to be aware that she's been asking others how you managed to survive the attack at Caryeva. And sooner or later she'll figure out the truth." It wasn't a warning, but a statement of fact.

Aleksander knew that perfectly well. He wasn't a fool to delude himself that he could hide anything from his precious girl. And he didn't intend to do that at all. All he wanted to do was get his bearings. The mere mention of merzost caused panic attacks in Alina. No. That would have to wait, since he himself hadn't really felt any major symptoms of black magic poisoning yet.

"I'm aware of that, Genya," The Black General replied, getting up from his chair and suggesting that the redhead should do the same. “Now, please bring me Ivan. You may go,” he added, waiting for The Tailor to bow to him, moving away from her commander’s private quarters.

The Shadow Summoner waited until the door closed behind his Corporalki, then pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment. Not only did he have to keep an eye on Lantsov Puppy to make sure he didn’t make any fatal moves in the meantime, but there were other worries that were taking up his attention. And among them, his own condition seemed the least important of them all.

Aleksander was walking slowly along the fireplace over and over again, with his hands clenched into fists. He stopped only when another knock on the door froze his feet and he instinctively straightened up.

"Come in!" he called, not yet returning to his seat in the armchair.

Ivan entered with a confident step. He was the only one who did not have to ask for prior permission, because as the right hand of the Darkling, he was the one authorized to report to his General, even in the middle of the night. And the reason for this turned out to be purely prosaic. The Heartrender never exceeded his authority, and he knew how to distinguish between when a situation was urgent and when it could wait.

"General," Ivan said, approaching Aleksander, who was standing in front of the fireplace. "I heard you wanted to see me."

The Shadow Summoner nodded, placing a hand on his Colonel's shoulder and squeezing it lightly.

"Yes, Ivan, I wish to speak of Alina," the Darkling said, withdrawing his hand and motioning for his Corporalki to take a seat next to him in one of the armchairs.

The Heartender did not seem surprised. He waited until Aleksander sat down first, then did the same. His Colonel was the best source of information about his precious girl besides Genya. He and his Sun Summoner had spent two weeks together, and somehow both had come out unscathed. Nothing had escaped Ivan's attention either, so his judgment had to be trusted, as it had been many times before.

"What do you mean, moi Soverenyi?" His Corporalki was as serious as ever, waiting for a specific question.

The Darkling looked him straight in the eye, then asked, "Have you noticed any change in Alina's physical condition? That is, anything that could be considered unusual in her current state?"

Ivan didn't break their eye contact, knowing his commander well enough to recognize when he was struggling to mask his emotions. There was no fooling the Heartrender, who could listen to your body like no one else. And while Aleksander Morozova had honed the ability to hide his actual reactions to near perfection, his Colonel was one of the few people around the Black General who knew him well enough not to let the wool over his eyes.

"Yes, General," his Corporalki, who had never lied to the Darkling, admitted. "Her vital processes are slowing down." Here Ivan paused for a moment, as if trying to word it properly.

That immediately alerted his commander.

"In what sense?" The Shadow Summoner asked his Heartrender, carefully studying his stoic face.

Ivan was not one to hide anything from him. His determination combined with his straightforwardness made him someone whom someone as distrustful as Aleksander Morozova could trust.

"It's hard to explain it properly, moi Soverenyi," his Corporalki answered him after a moment of thought. "Something is weakening Miss Starkov from the inside, and I have suspicions as to what it might be."

The Darkling felt his heart begin to beat faster. A familiar twinge of anxiety crept into his consciousness along with the familiar panic attack. Ivan must have realized this quickly, because after a moment he continued his explanation.

"In my opinion, your unborn children, General, are amplifiers, like you," The Heartrender said.

Aleksander held his breath for a moment, a cold shiver running down his spine. Was it really possible that, with such a small chance of it happening, the little beings growing in Alina's womb had inherited the Morozova curse? His own mother had made dozens of attempts to finally give birth to a perfect copy of herself. Meanwhile, his own twins would bear the burden of their origins, because cruel fate had once again decided to mock their father. The Darkling knew what that meant. His children would be immortal like he and Alina. And while he should have been happy about it, it also filled him with unimaginable fear. Aleksander would have to protect his children more than his own life. With Annika and everything he had experienced as a child in mind, he would watch who approached them and whether they were attracted to the temptation of the amplifier. And even later, when his twins were adults, he would never let them out of his sight. Being the Morozova was a curse in itself. And the Darkling's job would be to do everything he could to somehow alleviate it.

"And what does this mean for Alina?" The Shadow Summoner asked, suddenly understanding the gravity of the situation.

Ivan looked him in the eye calmly, as always being the one who always managed to keep his nerves in check.

"As we know, moi Soverenyi, the amplifiers are nothing more than merzost," his Corporalki explained to his commander. "So now that Miss Starkov no longer has the fragments of stag or seawhip that were destroyed within the void in herself, she is exposed to the energy sent by your unborn children. You will have to speak to David or Vladim about this, moi Soverenyi, as I do not have the knowledge about it. I can only assume, from the reaction of Alina's body, that it is her pregnancy that is weakening her so. As long as she had her external amplifiers, her symptoms were not as severe. I cannot explain how it works, but perhaps the external merzost was somehow mutually exclusive with that coming from your children developing within her womb, sir." With that, The Heartrender fell silent, seeing his General stiffen and his hands involuntarily clench into fists.

"I wish to be alone, Ivan," Aleksander said after a long moment of silence, carefully controlling his voice.

His Corporalki looked at him cautiously, sensing what was happening to him now. For this reason, The Heartrender rose from his seat without a shadow of a doubt and merely bowed to The Shadow Summoner, after which, without saying anything more, he headed towards the exit of his commander's quarters.

As soon as the door closed behind him, The Black General let out the breath he had been holding in his mouth and hid his face in his hands, momentarily forgetting about all his duties, his beloved Ravka, and everything else.

***

At another fireplace, many kilometers away, someone was also staring into the fire, while his long, bony fingers were turning an oval object which he was holding in his hands, that looked like an artifact older than all the equipment surrounding this person. It was a rune cast in bronze, worn here and there from the frequent touching by its owner. The air in the room was thick and smelled of the humidity that was everywhere in the area, as the sea breeze was blowing through the tall windows into the interior of the building standing on the rocky coast, inaccessible from The True Sea, only from the land. The small space was filled to the ceiling with books gathered on racks. Ancient scrolls were stacked and pushed into narrow shelves so tightly that to get them out, you had to take them all out.

When someone knocked on the door, the person by the fireplace didn't even react. After a moment, someone quietly entered, stopping behind the figure sitting in a tall armchair, knowing that in order to attract their attention, they simply had to start talking to them.

"Sir," the guest said, but the tall stranger didn't move.

A dozen or so seconds passed before the person by the fireplace finally found his voice, although his lips didn't even move.

"You may speak." This person's voice sounded as if it were coming from inside a well, so deep that it reached the ears of the person listening as an echo bouncing off the stone walls.

“The Black General has returned to Os Kervo, my lord,” the visitor said, bowing his head in respect, even though his interlocutor could not see him. “He is said to have miraculously escaped death.”

The man by the fireplace finally flinched.

“How did he do that?” The questioner’s lips remained still again, as if it were not he who was speaking, but someone who had possessed him.

“Merzost, my lord,” the visitor explained. “Our man witnessed the moment it happened. It was the work of dark magic, no doubt.” The visitor fell silent, knowing that he needed to say no more to make it clear to the one he had served since he had been a child.

The stranger by the fireplace turned the rune in his bony fingers again. He stared at the flames crackling before his eyes, then said, “Our time is running out, Igor. It is time for me to deal with this.”

Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:

Notes:

Hello dears! 🖤🌷
I invite you to a new journey with your well-known, favorite characters. You also met someone new here. Their input in my story will be huge. This Prologue is just introduction, so let me know how you like it. I tried to refresh your memory with some past events, but this is a direct continuation of “He’ll Be Back for Her”.
See you under Chapter 1 right now!
I love you all, I will be grateful if you bookmark and kudo this sequel if you like it.
Thank you for your support,
Ewa 🖤🌷

Chapter 3: The woman who gave a ring to the man

Summary:

Aleksander Morozova again sank into himself for a moment, this time doing it out of happiness. All he could do now was look at Alina. Would he really be able to correct the mistake of the past and see his children alive and well?
And then the happiness that was a rare guest in his heart began to transform into terror again. He had already failed Luda once, and now he could also fail his Sun Summoner. The one he had been waiting for all these centuries was bringing him the most beautiful gift of all, and he had a duty to take proper care of it.
But if he had failed then, would he succeed now? The treacherous tears welling up in his eyes told him that good things didn't happen to people like him. The Morozovas didn't deserve to have a family. Alina had the right to experience something better, too. Something that the curse flowing through The Black General's veins wouldn't be able to ruin.
"Sasha," Alina told him quietly, probably seeing how much he was tormenting himself now. "I know what you're feeling now. You're questioning yourself. But you'll be the best father. I know it, Aleksander. I had no doubts in this matter even for a second."

Notes:

This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Ch1

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Nothing had pleased her lately. She spent most of her time staring out the window, as if her expectant gaze had somehow caused him to magically materialize there. That he would ride through the wide gate on his black stallion named Morok, and then dismount in one swift movement – graceful, dark and handsome as the Prince of Darkness.

But time passed painfully slowly, and the gates of The Summer Palace remained closed. The sun rose over the horizon, disappearing behind it in the evening in the daily cycle of day and night, but nothing really changed except the weather, which turned out to be as capricious and changeable as Alina's own emotions in the very end of June. Not only had her mood completely changed in the meantime, but her mind had also begun to play tricks on her. The future queen of Ravka imagined the most horrible things, and although she knew she should be patient, fear crept into her consciousness like a toxic fog completely obscuring her common sense.

She still remembered how Aleksander had promised to return to her on Kupala Night. So she had counted down the days, feeling increasingly uncertain and frustrated. And then she had made herself a promise. She had sworn to herself that if the Saints returned him to her safe and sound, she would give him something herself. And then she would never let him take it off his finger again.

Apathy had taken over her now to such an extent that her eyes were following the raindrops running down the window. They were moving lazily one after another, merging into larger streams on their way, and then dripping onto the stone windowsill. The monotony of this phenomenon meant that Alina did not react to the knocking on the door at first, which began to repeat every few seconds, eventually forcing her to blink.

The girl turned her face away from the window, trying to straighten her white hair, which was loosely tied in a tight knot at the nape of her neck. She did not feel like visiting, as she had been feeling the immense fatigue that had been haunting her lately. But she knew that someone who had been waiting so stubbornly at her door couldn't have just appeared here without a reason.

That's why she put on a neutral smile and called out, "Come in!"

David timidly peeked inside, looking around to see if Alina was alone. When she smiled at him invitingly, he slipped inside the chamber, his hands in the pockets of his purple kefta. He seemed as if he couldn't wait to meet her, which could be due to either how long he had been waiting in the hallway or some other reason that had brought him here at dinner time.

"David," The Sun Summoner greeted him. "It's good to see you. I thought we would meet in the library before dinner, as always." The future queen of Ravka was happy to see her friend, but knowing his love of order and routine, she was surprised by the unusual timing of his visit.

The Durast took a few steps forward, as if to close the distance between them. Alina finally reluctantly stood up from her chair and approached him, as he had stopped in the middle of the room, looking as if he was waiting for something.

"Has something happened to Genya?" she asked him again, but he shook his head.

Instead, he only told her, "I have something for you, Alina." And with that, he reached into his pocket, fishing out a simple metal box.

The Sun Summoner narrowed her eyes slightly, as the metal did not remind her of anything she herself saw on a daily basis. It was golden in color and shimmered slightly. It did not look like anything that could be found in Ravka. Alina had the impression that the ore from which it was extracted had a very exotic origin.

"What is this?" she asked her friend, taking the box that was held out to her from his hands.

"Open it," David encouraged her, waiting for her to lift the lid herself.

The girl glanced at him with surprise written on her face, but willingly complied. Inside was something that made The Sun Summoner hold her breath. Her dream had just come true and the final effect exceeded her wildest expectations. Two rings were laying majestically on the velvet cushion that lined the inside of the box. The first one was massive and wide, the other one was thin and much smaller, but richly decorated. Around the circumference of both of them were engravings in the shape of fern leaves. Exactly as Alina had dreamed when she asked The Durast to make them for her before Kupala. The rings were made of silver, but covered with a layer of special dust created by Alkemi so that the precious metal would not blacken with constant use. Simplicity and beauty were the two perfect words to describe them. The jewelry was not ostentatious, but very modest. And that was what – apart from the engraving itself – most pleased Alina's heart.

“Thank you for…” The Sun Summoner said, finally tearing her gaze away from the rings to smile gratefully at David, but when she did, he was nowhere to be seen. She didn’t recognize where she suddenly found herself either. Her heart began to beat quickly as she realized she was standing in the middle of a small, high-walled room lined from floor to ceiling with bookshelves. The air smelled damp and musty, muffled by the scent of the salty sea breeze brushing against her cheeks. Alina shivered, having no idea what was happening to her. It was pitch dark all around, and the only light that reached her was coming from the dying fireplace. Blood pounded in her ears as she tried to move her feet, but they refused to obey. The Sun Summoner opened her mouth to scream loudly, but no sound came out. Whether it was fear that paralyzed her or something else triggered her condition, her first thought was towards her children, desperately trying to find a way to protect them. Unfortunately, to no avail.

Anmei, someone said in a voice as quiet as a whisper. Anmei.

Alina knew that someone was talking to her behind her back. However, she couldn't turn around, because she had lost the use of her feet.

Anmei, we finally meet, someone added, and an icy chill ran down her spine.

And then the girl looked down at her hand, which was clutching a jewelry box. When she unclenched her fingers, she realized that her hand was empty. Instead, The Sun Summoner had two yellowed fern leaves there, but there was no trace of the rings.

No!, she screamed in her mind, feeling her feet finally leave the stone floor, the suddenness of the movement causing her to lose her balance. She was about to hit her face against the polished granite when something jerked her back hard, forcing her eyes open.

The future queen of Ravka looked around quickly, breathing heavily. She was sitting upright in the middle of the well-known, large bed, the covers of which were completely scattered to the sides. Some of them were lying on the ground, and some were hanging from the edge, also threatening to fall. Alina's forehead was beaded with sweat, and her white hair stuck to her pale forehead. The girl was still wearing her nightgown, although it looked like the day outside the window of The Summer Palace had long since dawned.

And then instinct told The Sun Summoner two things. The first was to reflexively touch her slightly rounded belly, and the second was to check if the ring with the fern leaf was still resting on her finger. Only then did the future queen of Ravka allow herself to breathe deeply. So it all turned out to be just a nightmare. A strange and incredibly realistic one, but just a dream.

Whatever it meant, Alina had no idea how to interpret it. For her own good and that of her children, she should probably erase it from her memory. If Aleksander found out that her mental state had deteriorated again, he would probably start to lose his mind. His already excessive nervousness was beginning to affect them both. The Darkling was seemingly in control, but he was like a pot covered with a lid placed on the hearth. Steam billowed under his cap, threatening to explode at any moment. And the most interesting thing about it all was that he himself was supposed to be doing it solely out of concern. Possessive and controlling, but driven by the desire to surround what was close to him with care, as well as boundless devotion.

Alina took a deep breath, allowing her thoughts to focus once again on The Black General. The moment when she had told him the truth about her pregnancy could not be compared to anything else. The Sun Summoner replayed the entire scene in her memory again, recalling the entire kaleidoscope of emotions that had been painted on his face at that moment.

"I'm pregnant, Sasha. I'm expecting twins."

As soon as those words had left her lips, Aleksander's eyes had widened, and then he seemed to sink into himself for a moment, not believing what he was hearing. If his precious girl didn't know him, she would have thought he had broken down. But no, it was quite the opposite. The Darkling hadn’t allowed himself to accept such an eventuality, and now, when it had become a fact, the surprise had been so great for him that at first it manifested itself as disbelief, and then it had taken away some of his strength, once again revealing that sensitive part of him that he had so skillfully hidden from the whole world. Aleksander had been staring at her for a moment, and his hands began to shake slightly. Then his face had changed into something like gratitude and happiness, which, however, quickly transformed into distrust.

His Sun Summoner had understood what was happening to him. The whole past hac come back to him, and with it the fear that he would not be able to protect her and their family. This thought had dominated all the others, making him doubt himself. The Black General had been silent for a while, and then his eyes had become strangely shiny. A moment later, completely without warning, he had taken Alina in his arms, hugging her head to his chest. When she had sighed slightly, it seemed to him that he had done it too hard, confusing it with her feeling of relief. Aleksander immediately had pulled away from her, as if he had to handle a porcelain doll. The hands he had placed on her cheeks had been shaking slightly. In his night-black irises so many different conflicting emotions had been fighting for dominance that his precious girl felt momentarily intoxicated by them. And then he had kissed her. So gently that he had barely brushed her lips with his, but suddenly it had become clear to her what occupied his heart and thoughts. It had been fear. Something that the Darkling had long since tamed and bent completely to his will, in one moment had stripped him of all his armor. He had become exposed to the truth and the consequences associated with it. And when he had finally pulled away from The Sun Summoner, his bottomless eyes had been emanating something else. Aleksander had clearly blamed himself for something. And suddenly Alina had understood how this would end for her. The Black General would try to compensate her for all this. The question had remained – to what extent would he feel obliged to fix an imaginary mistake, for which he had been not responsible.

It all had started very innocently, but the first signals had appeared almost immediately. The Darkling, previously so certain about leaving his precious girl in Ivan's care when he himself had gone on a journey to Ahmrat Jen, suddenly had begun to have doubts about it. Alina had immediately clung to it like an anchor, trying to dissuade him from this idea, which she had known perfectly well had been probably adding to his worries. But it had become stronger than her, and she hadn’t been able to do anything about it. Something had told her that this expedition wouldn't end well, and Lizaveta's words wouldn't leave her for a moment. So far, there had been no indication that Aleksander had felt the need to use merzost. The future queen of Ravka had been really afraid of only one thing. That it would happen before their children were born. And although she wasn't religious, she had begun to ask the Saints not to let it happen. Would she be heard? Probably not. But she had clearly needed some faith and support so she wouldn't lose her mind.

The Sun Summoner lowered her eyes again to the ring engraved with a fern leaf, then began to turn it over in her fingers. Her thoughts immediately drifted towards the nightmare that had taken away the last of her peace of mind. For some reason, the voice of the person speaking to her in her dream seemed strangely familiar to her. Alina had the impression that she had heard it many times in her childhood, before she had promised herself to hide her powers. And then suddenly she had stopped hearing it. Until today. Whatever it meant, it could only herald trouble. And the future queen of Ravka was incredibly afraid. For her unborn children, and even more so for Aleksander. She was afraid that his paranoia would harm him in some way. That he would torment himself with things he had no control over, and she herself would not be able to protect him.

A tear glistened in the corner of The Sun Summoner's eye, so she wiped it away with the back of her hand. She had barely had time to do so when there was a knock on the door. The girl took a deep breath, running her fingers through her snow-white hair, and then straightened up on the bed. It could have been Aleksander, but he would have simply walked in. That narrowed the possibilities considerably. Without bothering with it any longer, Alina simply called out, “Come in!”

Genya boldly marched into the room, knowing she would find her alone. It was still early in the morning, but the redhead looked as if she hadn’t slept in a long time. As soon as her and The Sun Summoner’s eyes met, The Tailor frowned, approaching the bed and sitting on its edge. Concern was evident in her eyes, and she herself studied her friend’s face, as if searching for the cause of her puffy eyes.

“Let me guess,” Alina began, guessing the reason for this visit. “Aleksander sent you to me again, didn’t he?”

Genya looked at her for a moment in silence, and tenderness could be seen in her gaze.

"He's very worried about you, Sunshine. But he tries not to show it." The Corporalki finally answered her, reaching out to her and gently squeezing her hand.

"But I don't have merzost in me anymore, Genya." The future queen of Ravka shook her head theatrically. "Do all pregnant women experience something like this?" Although it was supposed to sound joking, Alina knew that Aleksander only cared about her well-being. And since this situation was just as new to him as it was to her, it created a circumstance in which they both worried about each other and dragged outsiders into it.

"I think he probably guesses that you're stressed out too and doesn't want you to suspect that he's figured you out." The Tailor reached for her pale forehead to brush her light hair away from there.

The Sun Summoner felt a lump rise in her throat. She loved the man who cared so much about the safety of others that he forgot about himself. And this was like an additional burden that he had willingly taken on his shoulders. And what was worse, he saw nothing wrong with the fact that he wanted to do this alone.

"Tell me, Genya," Alina said after a moment, her voice trembling with emotion. "Don't I have the right to worry? Didn't you see with your own eyes what they did to him?" The girl's lower lip was shaking slightly, even though she masked her fear by pretending to be brave, which she lacked so much right now.

The Tailor remained calm. If it weren't for her, The Sun Summoner would probably burst into tears, but thanks to the aura of support and confidence radiating from her friend, she still managed to keep her nerves in check.

"Sunshine, the General is the strongest person I know," The Corporalki said. "Believe me, I know what I'm talking about, because I've known him longer than you have." Her hand lingered on Alina's cheek, warming her skin more pleasantly.

The future queen of Ravka bit her lower lip in a feeble attempt to control her emotions.

"Yes, indeed..." she mumbled more to herself than to The Tailor. "And he got himself pierced like nothing happened."

The redhead's other hand unexpectedly found itself on her friend's other cheek, turning her face towards her so that they could both make eye contact.

"That's what the General always does. He puts himself at risk for others," Genya told her in a calm tone. "You knew that when you decided to get involved with him, right?"

Alina felt a painful pressure in her chest. Of course she had known that, but did that mean she had to just accept it and put up with Aleksander risking his life as if it meant nothing? Wasn't the Darkling the General of The Second Army? And now the ruler of all of West Ravka? Like the Lantsovs, shouldn't he rather look after his own survival, using others to fight for him?

The problem was that deep down, The Sun Summoner understood that this was exactly who The Shadow Summoner was. She loved him like that, and she never had any illusions that she would change the way he lived. What's more, she had no right or desire to do so. It was this version of him that had stolen her heart. That meant Alina had to come to terms with the thought of losing him. And all she could do was support The Black General and not let anything happen to him.

No one should change for anyone. Mal was like that, but not the future queen of Ravka. Aleksander had turned out to be the only person who wanted her for herself. And The Sun Summoner had learned to respect that, making it her own philosophy of life.

Alina slumped her shoulders, losing all desire to argue.

"I love him, Genya," she simply told her red-haired friend, sighing heavily. "Does he even know that?"

The Tailor turned her head toward herself again, looking her straight in the eye.

"Of course he does," she assured her. "But do you realize that it could happen again?" she asked her, carefully studying her expression.

The Sun Summoner lowered her gaze.

"Of course I do, Genya," she whispered, feeling a lump rise in her throat once more.

"And will you be there when that happens?" The Corporalki asked, even though the question seemed downright absurd to her friend.

"Of course. How can you have any doubts about that, Genya?" The future queen of Ravka didn't hide the resentment that colored her voice.

The Tailor wasn't put off by this, though. She rubbed Alina's cheek with her thumb, smiling slightly at her.

"Then let the General worry about you, just like you do about him, Sunshine," she replied, causing The Sun Summoner to blush. "He really loses his mind. He sees that you're not feeling well and is tormenting himself about it."

Alina paled noticeably.

"What did you tell him, Genya?" Her hand reached for The Tailor's wrist, gripping it tightly.

"Alina..." the redhead began, but her friend didn't let her finish.

"Don't tell him anything more, Genya, please!" Tears welled up in her eyes. "Aleksander got injured. I beg you, don't tell him anything!"

The Corporalki now had sadness written all over her face. She found herself in an uncomfortable situation between duty and friendship. And The Sun Summoner understood her hesitation, but Aleksander deserved a little peace, because he had already been through too much. And all at once.

"Sunshine, he can see what's going on," Genya told her in a calm voice, realizing that panicking wouldn't help either of them now.

The future queen of Ravka nodded, then bit her lower lip.

"I know, but I'd like to give him a little more time to recover," she whispered, staring at the bed.

The Tailor was silent for a moment, and they both remained motionless, as if afraid to break the comfortable silence. The redhead had an absent gaze, clearly struggling with something. Finally, she nodded, finding Alina's eyes again and looking deeply into them.

"Okay, I'll do it, but only because I know that the General is really tormented by this, which may prolong his recovery. Now tell me how do you feel, Sunshine? But be honest. And don't forget, I'll know if you lie." The Corporalki became alert and listened carefully to her friend's body, which no longer had the merzost supplied by the amplifiers, but still spoke to her in the language of forbidden magic.

"I feel quite well," Alina lied, trying to smile slightly.

“Sunshine,” The Tailor warned her, not breaking their eye contact. “I know it’s not merzost, but…” The redhead trailed off, wondering how best to warn The Sun Summoner of this new threat without annoying her too much.

But it was still enough to make the girl’s heart beat faster.

“But?” she asked, feeling suddenly unnaturally hot.

Genya immediately rushed to explain, and the sincerity written on her face suggested that she was telling the truth.

“I don’t know, Sunshine,” she said, placing her hands on her friend’s cheeks again. “Your pregnancy is progressing normally, I have no doubt about that. It’s not about your children, don’t worry,” The Corporalki assured her, encouraging her to calm down. “I meant you, Alina. Something seems to be sucking all the energy out of you. And although I can’t explain it, I can see you weakening.” The Tailor's gaze became cautious and probing. Although she was doing it very discreetly, she literally scanned The Sun Summoner through and through, using her gift for understanding Grisha's physiology.

Alina smiled slightly, because even though she didn't have as much strength as before, she wasn't going to feel sorry for herself.

"I'm fine, Genya," she replied, straightening up slightly. "I don't give up that easily, you know that."

The Tailor smiled back. The future queen of Ravka was grateful for this friendship, which had allowed her to survive the worst moments more than once.

"You're a warrior, Sunshine. You and the General deserve each other," she joked, but after a moment, her smile faded again.

The Sun Summoner frowned at this, unable to resist the temptation to ask her another question.

"There's something else that worries you, Genya, isn't there?" she asked, waiting for the redhead to tell her the truth.

The Tailor hesitated for a moment, but realized that since she had started talking, she shouldn't stop now.

"I'm worried about the number of ships from Shu Han docking in our port, Sunshine. There are definitely more people from there hanging around our streets. I don't know, I can't explain it, but I feel that something is wrong," The Corporalki said, sharing her doubts with her future queen.

Alina immediately frowned, clearly alarmed.

"So that's why Aleksander hardly leaves his office," The Sun Summoner whispered to herself, understanding that the threat of war was becoming more and more real with each passing day.

"People in the palace courtyard were whispering that Nikolai had lifted the customs duty on the occasion of his engagement to the Shu Han princess," The Tailor said, causing a cold shiver running down her friend's spine.

Alina didn't know politics as well as Aleksander did. But she understood one thing. The young Tsar of Ravka was trying to complicate the rule of his new Regent. Not only was he exposing his country to lower profits, but he was provoking a revolt of the merchant guilds, which generated more than half of the income of the entire region. Either Nikolai was an idiot, or he was doing it on purpose. The Sun Summoner understood that a serious conversation with the Darkling awaited her. One in which she herself would support him in every, even the most controversial decision made regarding the capital.

***

The new Regent of West Ravka was holding one of the reports in his metal hand, absorbed in his restless reading. The longer he read it, the more his eyes narrowed, and the muscles in his forearms tensed in anticipation of an unfulfilled threat.

Two weeks. Just two weeks, and Lantsov Puppy was already starting to throw obstacles in the Darkling's way, clearly signaling that if they were to share power, Aleksander would have to put up with his antics. The idiot, in all his dubious genius, probably thought that he would bring his rival to heel by making him face the consequences of his inept decisions. The young monarch supposedly wanted to occupy his Regent's time with this, so that he could pursue his own plan of a political marriage with Princess Ehri.

Except that Nikolai had forgotten one very important thing. The Black General of Ravka had watched his predecessors ruin his country piece by piece. He had learned all their methods, the consequences of all their mistakes. He and Lantsov Puppy were not equal, and the blond Tsar, deluding himself that he would defeat someone like the Darkling, overestimated his abilities. Now, unfortunately, Aleksander had to wait to take the throne from him, as this loser had just brought another doom upon them. But as soon as the situation with Shu Han somehow normalized, The Shadow Summoner would revel in his downfall. And the best part of it all would be that Nikolai would put the noose around his own neck, with minimal input from his Regent.

However, his idea of abolishing the customs duty had disastrous consequences. Young Lantsov had not only exceeded his competence, which had been established during the initiation of the Darkling's regency, but had acted to the detriment of not only the West, but also the whole of Ravka. The fool had not realized what most of the inhabitants of his own kingdom lived on. And now he wanted to impoverish the merchants, who were the only ones generating income that could be used as reserves during potential unrest or a new war. Did Nikolai really deceive himself that he would curry favor with the rulers of Ahmrat Jen in this way? Especially now, when one of them had rebelled and planned to overthrow her own grandmother, and as soon as that happened, armed conflict with Ravka would become a fact?

Aleksander put the document down on the pile of correspondence piling up on his desk, then slammed his fist on the table so hard that the equipment lying on it scattered in all directions. Lantsov Puppy was treading on thin ice and had chosen the wrong opponent. The Black General could not start a coup when the fool sitting on the throne in Os Alta had just gotten engaged. The Shu Han would take that as a signal to attack, and the rearming of the Ravkan army had not yet been completed. The Darkling needed at least a few more weeks, and while the stalemate was making him furious, the new Regent knew he had to focus on restoring order to the West before expanding his independence efforts to the rest of the country.

And then there was a knock at the door. Aleksander straightened up automatically, putting on his usual nonchalance. He then plopped down on his tall wooden chair, and called out, “Come in!”

Ivan marched inside, clutching a small envelope in his hand. He stopped just in front of his commander, bowing slightly.

“Moi Soverenyi,” his Colonel said, then made eye contact with the Darkling. “I think you should take a look at this.” With that, he handed him the sealed correspondence. “This is from the harbormaster. As soon as the messenger delivered it, I went to you to give it to you.”

Aleksander offered his The Heartrender a quick glance, then began to break the seal. Inside the envelope was a single sheet of paper with a very short but meaningful message. The Shadow Summoner scanned its contents with his watchful gaze, frowning at the very end. Then he pushed the correspondence back to where he had pulled it out, looking straight at Ivan.

"What is the situation at the port?" he asked his Colonel, feeling himself literally boiling inside.

As the Darkling had expected, Lantsov Puppy's generosity had not gone unnoticed by the merchants' guild. They had decided to take matters into their own hands, as their livelihoods could be taken away from them.

The customs duty was a tax due in its entirety to the Crown, and in this case it fell under the ownership rights of the Regent of West Ravka. It was not only the largest revenue in the local treasury, but also the main burden on exported goods. In the event that revenue from the customs duty fell, the ruler of the entire region was obliged to raise the amount of other duties. And since the merchants of Os Kervo were aware of this, they teamed up to take matters into their own hands before Aleksander made a decision that would harm their interests – because said decision would not be avoided due to administrative actions concerning the entire western part of the country.

But the Darkling did not need a rebellion here. He knew that he had to intervene before it was too late, and Nikolai, as always, would wash his hands of it and order him to clean up the mess he had made.

"Just before I took your letter, sir, I had heard that things had worsened again. Our merchants do not want to let Shu Han ships leave without paying customs," Ivan replied, his face remaining icy cold, indicating that the atmosphere had once again heated up to red-hot and this time there could be an armed confrontation, which was always a source of misunderstandings on an international scale. "The problem is that their ship captains hide behind a decree granting them appropriate tax relief," The Heartrender continued. "Our governor is having a hard time there, moi Soverenyi. I wonder if we shouldn't send one of our armed forces there as a precaution to cool the unrest there."

Aleksander Morozova knew that this might not be enough. And while relations between West and East Ravka might once again become tense, the new Regent had a duty to act in the interests of his subjects. His homeland was his heart and his soul. But both its parts were now fragmented, drifting apart even without The Shadow Fold to separate them. They had to be reunited. The theory that The Unsea had destroyed what had once been one had collapsed like a house of cards once again. It was the Lantsovs who were always destroying Ravka worse than the plague. They did not need a magical barrier to sow destruction and instigate social divisions. Nikolai, though a bastard, was saturated with this corruption and this ideology. Aleksander regretted that this kid had gotten involved in an engagement with Ehri Kir-Taban, because then the steps taken by the new Regent would have been much more radical.

"No, Ivan," the Darkling said after a moment, rising from his seat. "We'll take care of this ourselves." With that, he circled his desk, waiting for his Colonel to join him, and they both disappeared behind the office doors, heading for the palace stables.

Half an hour later, The Shadow Summoner was already entering the port with an escort of a small squad of Etherealki, one Healer, and two other Heartrenders besides Ivan. The merchants of Shu Han would not be making their own law in his region. Whatever concessions Nikolai had granted them, The Black General was now in charge here, and that was the authority delegates had given him when signing his regency a few weeks earlier. And they certainly would not be robbing the citizens of West Ravka. The situation had to be resolved once and for all, because otherwise the conflict would escalate, only increasing tensions between the two neighboring kingdoms.

Aleksander led Morok towards a wide quay, where several dozen people had gathered. They were shouting threats at each other, and some were even intimidating each other with their fists. The Ravkan language mingled in the shouts with the dialect from beyond the southern side of the Sikurzoi mountain range, as merchants from Os Kervo were trying to pull carts of goods away from the side, and buyers of those goods were tugging at them from the other side.

The new Regent immediately picked out the harbormaster from the crowd of heads waving angrily against the now restless waters of The True Sea. The man tried to restore order, but he could barely control the mutual anger that was boiling the atmosphere on the quay, despite the already very high temperature of the air. The Darkling led Morok towards Zarkov, riding as close as possible to the threatening men, then dismounted with a dull thud of his heavy riding boots. The people around him, however, were so absorbed in tearing goods from each other's hands that at first they did not even notice his presence. It was only when Aleksander clapped his hands loudly, causing darkness to fall around, when his shadows stole the last of the afternoon light, that all heads turned in his direction immediately, and the shouts fell silent for a moment. Some of faces were now in utter terror, while the others bowed to him in respect as he was striding through the crowd that was now parting before him, approaching his harbormaster.

"Mr. Zarkov," he greeted him as both The Black General and the Chief Merchant nodded to themselves in greeting. The poor man could not hide the relief now written on his face at the sight of his lord, and he seemed to be sweating heavily already, trying to somehow resolve the conflict here. "Any problems?"

Zarkov turned to face the Shu Han part of the crowd, then called out in a loud voice, knowing that the presence of the local Regent had the desired effect and the merchants from across the southern border would not dare to come to blows now that The Shadow Summoner was among them.

"Our buyers from Shu Han are refusing to pay the customs, sir," the harbormaster said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “They claim they no longer have to do so due to the tax relief introduced by Tsar Nikolai Lantsov.”

Aleksander narrowed his eyes at the foreign buyers of West Ravka’s goods.

“In that case, our buyers will sail away empty-handed today,” the Darkling said, making a motion with both hands to further thicken the darkness his shadows had brought to the shore.

It turned out that there was someone brave among the gathered. One of the typical-looking men from Shu Han approached The Black General, showing no small amount of courage. He was holding a copy of the tax exemption signed by Lantsov Puppy. Aleksander took it from him without even asking what he was dealing with. After a moment, he tore it into small pieces, deliberately prolonging the action.

"As I said!" The Shadow Summoner shouted to the crowd of foreign merchants. "No one sails from here with any goods purchased without paying duty! I am the Regent of West Ravka and I am the law here! No tax reliefs apply unless I introduce them! Pass this on to all your countrymen, dear guests! Either pay the required tax to our harbormaster or you may as well go home with empty holds!"

The people on the quayside finally began to whisper. The Darkling could see not only anger on their faces, but above all, also resignation. Finally, a middle-aged man who seemed to be their leader nodded reluctantly, and from behind him emerged several people with purses full of coins and jewels.

Aleksander calmed down a bit, but he knew that this was just the calm before the storm, and the temporary solution he had introduced would not resolve the conflict started by one blond kid from Os Alta who decided to play ruler. It was time for Nikolai to understand the threat and the seriousness of the whole situation. The new Regent of West Ravka, on the other hand, had to be prepared for the dynamic development of events that would force him to defend his homeland once again. Hopefully, all the Saints, in whom the Darkling did not believe, would give him enough time to prepare himself properly before the fire began to consume everything around him.

***

Alina took several thick volumes from David's hands, almost bending under their weight and placing them on the table top at which she was sitting. The library of The Summer Palace was not as large as in The Little Palace, but the collection here was diverse and there were several titles among it that The Sun Summoner had never had the opportunity to see before, which gave her hope that her search would finally start to bring some results. All the lights in the oval room had already been dimmed and apart from the glow of several oil lamps placed on nearby tables, there was a pleasant semi-darkness around, in which the future queen of Ravka felt best. Right next to her was a piece of paper, as well as an inkwell with a quill placed in it. As always, Alina preferred to be prepared for the occasion of taking notes and did not want to waste time looking for writing accessories if she found something she considered worth remembering.

“Are you sure you want to go through all of this today, Alina?” The Durast asked her, scratching his head slightly in embarrassment. “It’s quite late. Maybe you should divide it up and read some of it tomorrow?”

But The Sun Summoner just smiled at him, then nodded.

“Yes, David, thank you for your help,” she replied, guessing that his thoughts were already wandering to a certain red-haired Tailor. “But you’re right, it’s quite late,” the girl added. “I think you should go to Genya now, before she gets impatient. And we both know that’s a possibility better avoided.”

David’s embarrassment deepened, and a sense of duty seemed to root his feet to the wooden floor.

“Or maybe you should ask The Apparat for help?” he asked her, once again reminding her of the possibility Alina had rejected earlier. "You mentioned that you were looking for information about the first Saints, and there is probably no one who knows more about this than the High Priest of Ravka."

The Sun Summoner shook her head at this, spreading the books to the sides so that they filled most of the counter.

"I don't want The Apparat to know anything about it," she replied to her dark-haired friend.

The Durast frowned slightly, not expecting such a circumstance.

"And why is that?" he asked, looking at his future queen with undisguised curiosity.

"Because he would guess what I'm looking for," Alina replied, making direct eye contact with David. "And since it concerns Aleksander, I can't afford the luxury of false hope. The fewer people who are privy to this, the better, because I want to spare myself and your General a potential disappointment."

Her dark-haired friend still seemed a bit skeptical.

"Alina, don't you think that General might have already been looking for his father?" The Durast said a little too loudly, to which The Sun Summoner put a finger to her lips, suggesting that he should speak more quietly.

David became a little embarrassed and held his hands out in front of him in an apologetic gesture. The girl just sighed, because she didn't blame him for the question. She simply didn't want to open up a not-fully-healed wound if her search ended in failure. Aleksander was already teetering on the edge of losing his mind. With all the new worries and Nikolai's irrational moves coming to the fore, his condition could worsen, and that was something Alina would never forgive herself for.

"David, your General was manipulated by his own mother his whole life," the future queen of Ravka said in a hushed voice. "I am more than certain that Baghra hid everything from him, and perhaps even distorted the truth so that he himself would never discover it." The girl felt rage and bitterness creeping into her bloodstream. "That is why I want to review all the chronicles and lives of the Saints, to ease my own conscience. You can think what you want, but I am also doing this for myself. I cannot watch him suffocate inside like a fish thrown onto the shore." Here her eyes became slightly glazed. "And sometimes, to leave the past behind for good, you have to face it."

David watched her for a moment, then nodded in understanding.

"I am afraid it will be a very hard work, Alina," her friend added after a moment. "We do not know his exact date of birth, and I am sure that, as you said, the General himself does not know exactly how old he is. You will have to be patient, because it is possible that Baghra had ingrained beliefs in his mind that are far from the truth."

The Sun Summoner blinked away tears. There was a fire of inner determination in her eyes now, which, even despite her recent weakening, was proof of her fighting nature.

"I do not know what I am truly looking for, David," the future Queen of Ravka told her friend. "But I have promised myself that I will not stop until I have exhausted all possibilities."

The Durast nodded, looking at her encouragingly.

"I will be happy to help you," he assured her, then began to shift from one foot to the other.

Alina smiled, knowing that although David was still physically in the library, his thoughts were already with Genya.

"David, I'll manage," she told him, reaching for the first book with the intention of opening it.

“But remember, if you need anything, you know where to find me," her dark-haired friend convinced her one last time, to which she began to wave her hand to shoo him away.

“Of course, thank you. Now go," The Sun Summoner instructed him, seemingly losing interest in him.

The future queen of Ravka waited until the library doors closed behind The Durast before taking a deep breath. She placed her hands flat on one of the pages of the ancient tome open in the middle and stared blankly ahead.

When Alina had learned Ulla's story, she felt a sadness so overwhelming that she hadn’t been able to escape her thoughts of how much Baghra had taken from Aleksander out of her pure selfishness. At first, The Sun Summoner had thought it was fear that had driven her. After all, they had lived together for so long that their fates had become inextricably intertwined and they had been connected by something like an unhealthy, mutual dependence. But then, the more she had learned, the more had been certain of one thing. The mother of the Darkling simply hadn’t been able to bear the thought that her son wanted a better future for himself and all the Grisha. She had raised him to be a smaller copy of herself, taking revenge on him for what had happened to her at the hands of Ilya. But somehow Aleksander had managed to break free from her influence, and that had been already an unforgivable offense in Baghra's eyes. This woman had taken everything she had been able from him. His family, the right to seek bonds with others, and his free choice. No one had been good enough in her eyes to give them a chance to provide them with motherly care. All the children – otkazats'ya or Grisha – had been abandoned by her without batting an eyelid. And the Darkling had seen it all. He had felt the pressure that his own mother had put on him. He understood that he was the only descendant she had kept with her. And that awareness must have weighed heavily on him.

That's why when Alina heard about Ulla, something inside her snapped. All the legends said that Sankta Ursula of the Waves had survived her execution by hiding on one of the islands belonging to the Fjerdan sea zone. If she had managed to escape alive, as one of the Morozovas, she was immortal. There was a chance that she would somehow be found. Although The Sun Summoner had no idea where to start, she knew that the clues could be found in the legends told by ordinary people. Aleksander and his sister had met many centuries ago. Ulla had to remember him, and if not, Alina would at least try her luck.

Even more absorbing the mind of the future Queen of Ravka was the thought of the ring belonging to The Black General's father. Although the Darkling had abandoned it in Tula Valley, something told The Sun Summoner that he himself had done it primarily because he wanted to close a chapter in his life that was devoid of any hope. Aleksander probably hadn’t believed that he deserved to know the truth, so he had decided to free himself from it. And that turned out to be a very serious step for someone so deeply rooted in his past.

Alina didn't know anything except the name of the man who had given him life, but she decided to look for some mention of it in the old chronicles anyway. She believed that Baghra was so calculating that she wouldn't choose a random person to be the father of her child. There was a high probability that this man had appeared in some old records, or maybe even had held some important position in old Ravka.

The girl sighed deeply, then finally began to look through the book which was placed in front of her. As soon as she started, she had to frown, because she had never come across such an old volume before. She gently closed it to look at the cover. The title was written in old Ravkan and the Shu Han dialect. The Sun Summoner didn't know the language of their southern neighbors that well, but she could read individual words ably enough to know that they meant exactly the same thing. The following pages were not made of paper, but of parchment. They were almost falling apart from age, so they had to be handled with extreme care.

“Legends of the Central South”, the title of the ancient book read. Alina admired the fading engravings of mythical animals and deities which she found inside. Among them all appeared figures of Saints who remembered the times before the divisions on the map had existed. Almost fairy-tale individuals, whose names had been changed by time in the collective consciousness into other designations, sometimes completely different from their original versions.

Finally, the title of one of the legends, written in beautiful calligraphy, caught The Sun Summoner's attention. It read “The Medic of Tools" and some strange intuition made Alina assume that it could tell the story of one of the first Grisha. That was why the girl rubbed her hands together, creating a small ball of light to brighten up what she was reading. The old Ravkan language was very complicated, so the future queen of Ravka had to stop at every word.

"Once upon a time there was a man called the Medic of Tools. People flocked to him from all directions to his home in a village at the foot of the mountains. The man accepted small gifts in exchange for the things he repaired. It was said that magic flowed from his fingers, although he himself lived the humble life of an ordinary peasant. Then the man met a woman from the other side of the mountains. He fell in love with her, wanting to take her as his wife. Unfortunately, men armed with bows and torches came after her. They were looking for the Medic of Tools, whom they accused of practicing black magic. They believed they would find great power in his body. The woman felt guilty for bringing certain doom upon her beloved. So she chased him out of their home, bolting the door behind her. And then there was the barking of dogs and the sound of heavy boots of armed men running from the direction of the dense forest. So the Medic of Tools fled the village, hiding in one of the nearby caves. He spent three days and three nights there before he finally decided to check what had happened to his beloved. He found his home completely burned down, and his entire village razed to the ground. The man sank into bottomless despair, naming the place after his beloved. Anmei soon became a place of pilgrimage for people searching for the miraculously saved the Medic of Tools. But he disappeared forever and was never heard from again.”

Alina held her breath, feeling her heart start to burst out of her chest.

"Anmei," she whispered to herself, distracting herself enough for the ball of light in her hand to shatter into thousands of tiny particles. "Anmei..."

The Sun Summoner didn't understand what that meant, or how likely it was that the word from her nightmare had just materialized before her eyes on the pages of an old book. But she knew she should take it as a sign to continue her search. There had to be some connection between the two terms. The future queen of Ravka had no idea she had stopped breathing. The blood in her veins turned to liquid ice, and her head began to spin from the emotions that had taken over her completely, consuming her entirely.

And then her fingers began to move on their own again. The girl turned the pages of the book, desperately searching for any mention of the Medic of Tools or Anmei. Legends, fairy tales, stories – she looked through them all. The closer she got to the end, the more frustration filled her heart and soul. No trace of the ancient Grisha who had been separated from his beloved and then killed. No clues as to who this man was or where he had gone. Nothing. Just more stories about mythical creatures, magical objects and the first Saints.

Alina was so focused on searching for clues that she didn't even notice someone who was walking in her direction. The person approached her almost silently, revealing their presence only when their gazes met and the future queen of Ravka was lost in eyes as black as a starless night.

***

"I'm pregnant, Sasha. I'm expecting twins."

Aleksander Morozova could have sworn that his mind, consumed by new worries, was starting to play tricks on him. Alina was staring at him with eyes glistening with tears, clearly unsure whether she had done the right thing. Too many things had happened at the same time, and perhaps she had doubts whether she had made the right choice. Maybe she should wait a few more hours until the tension of the decision to go to Shu Han had passed, and they could have this conversation in a calmer atmosphere.

The problem was that this moment might never come. And his precious girl had made him a promise. She wanted to keep her word, no matter what she felt now. Maybe she had thought that by doing so she would dissuade the Darkling from deciding to leave?

Aleksander knew that his ability to control his emotions had now been forgotten. He himself stiffened slightly, staring at Alina with disbelief that he no longer tried to mask. His fingers clenched the edge of the bed he was sitting on, so hard that the knuckles in his good hand turned completely white. Was it possible that he had actually heard that? Or maybe he was telling himself something because he subconsciously guessed that the changes he was noticing in his Sun Summoner couldn't have been accidental?

His precious girl paled even more, as if she was afraid that this information had changed something between them. That nothing would ever be the same again, and that she would suddenly cease to matter to him. Aleksander felt his emotions tightening in his throat, but not because he was disappointed, but because it had fallen on him like a bolt from the blue, even though he knew how to count.

It was probably because The Black General had not accepted the possibility that The Making would bestow something like this on him again, after all these centuries. He had pushed it away so much that in the end he had ignored the signals sent to him by the body of the woman he slept with every day.

However, apart from everything else, Alina had no right to worry or think that this news would somehow drive them apart. The fact that the Darkling was terrified by the possibility that the incident from the past could repeat itself, and he would not be able to save his family, had nothing to do with the information that his Sun Summoner was expecting a child. Or rather, two children.

Something in The Black General's heart seemed to stir, almost intoxicating him. A thousand thoughts, half of them tinged with fear, raced through his mind so fast that he himself could hardly keep up.

But one thing was certain. Alina needed some kind of reassurance from him. The kind that someone so fearful for her safety could offer her.

"Alya," the Darkling said, his voice trembling dangerously. "Is this really true?"

Maybe he was making a fool of himself. Maybe he sounded like all those pathetic otkazats'ya who asked childish questions when the answers were laid out before them on a silver platter. Maybe. But they both deserved it. Both he and Alina.

"Sasha," his precious girl told him, reaching her hand toward his cheek. "You know it's true. Maybe you even felt it, but for some reason you didn't let yourself think about it. And in a way, that's why I didn't tell you about it before. I was afraid you weren't ready to hear it yet," she whispered, and tenderness appeared in her eyes, peeking out from behind the signs of emotion.

Aleksander Morozova again sank into himself for a moment, this time doing it out of happiness. All he could do now was look at Alina. Would he really be able to correct the mistake of the past and see his children alive and well? Would he be able to repay the chance he had been given without wasting it?

And then the happiness that was a rare guest in his heart began to transform into terror again. He had already failed Luda once, and now he could also fail his Sun Summoner. The one he had been waiting for all these centuries was bringing him the most beautiful gift of all, and he had a duty to take proper care of it.

But if he had failed then, would he succeed now? The treacherous tears welling up in his eyes told him that good things didn't happen to people like him. The Morozovas didn't deserve to have a family. Alina had the right to experience something better, too. Something that the curse flowing through The Black General's veins wouldn't be able to ruin.

"Sasha," Alina told him quietly, probably seeing how much he was tormenting himself now. "I know what you're feeling now. You're questioning yourself. But you'll be the best father. I know it, Aleksander. I had no doubts in this matter even for a second."

Emotion literally burst the Darkling's chest from the inside. His hand instinctively flew towards Alina's hand, which she was holding on his cheek, lowering it. And then The Shadow Summoner simply took her in his arms. He hugged her head to his chest, even though he was still shaking. His precious girl let out a quiet sigh, which immediately woke Aleksander from his unexpected trance. Had he squeezed her a little too hard? Had something hurt her?

The Black General pulled away from his solnishka, gently touching her cheeks. He was aware that Alina could now read his heart like an open book, but he didn't want to hide from her alone. And it was this need that pushed him towards something that turned out to be stronger than the Darkling. His lips connected with hers in a kiss that was an invitation to the depths of his soul. Where fear settled in him for good, along with gratitude for the chance offered to him. There was also a sense of guilt in it, which didn't leave The Shadow Summoner even when he himself finally pulled away from Alina.

And then a quiet declaration escaped his lips. Something he himself planned to hold on to, even if it meant giving his life for it.

"Thank you, milaya," he promised her, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "I promise you that I will keep you safe. All three of you."

Her black eyes were staring at him now, exactly like they had been doing it before. But with one small difference. His precious girl looked as if she had been caught doing something. And that impression didn't go away when she slammed the book she was reading shut before Aleksander could pull out the empty chair, then plopped down on it and watched her Sun Summoner intently from under her furrowed brows.

"Sasha," she greeted him, trying to hide her surprise. "I think this is the first time I've seen you in the library." Here her hand crossed the entire width of the table to stroke his cheek.

The Black General could sense, however, that his solnishka was tense. Not for any serious reason, otherwise he would have read it from the look in her eyes, but she still acted as if he himself had interrupted her. The answer was obvious. It was lying right in front of her on the counter, remembering times more ancient than the birth of the Darkling.

"I see you do know how to occupy your time, milaya," Aleksander commented, reading the name of the book from its cover, which was threatening to fall to pieces.

Alina's eyes lit up slightly as she decided to remind him once again that he had left her no choice.

"Do I really need to remind you, Sasha, that you practically grounded me to The Summer Palace and don't allow me even a little freedom?" his precious girl joked, wanting to throw him off guard a bit.

Her hand moved from his cheek to his lower lip, so that after a moment she was rubbing it with her thumb, smiling slightly. The Darkling wanted to close his eyes and enjoy this moment as it should be. The problem was that their conversation had once again been directed to the tracks it had always returned to since The Black General had learned that his precious girl was expecting twins.

"Alina," he told her, enjoying her caress against his will.

When she didn't answer him for a long time, The Black General reluctantly opened his eyes, staring into the two black bottomless mirrors of her soul.

"I was just trying to explain to you why I found myself something to do, Sasha," his Sun Summoner told him, finally becoming a little serious. "I don't blame you. I know that otherwise you wouldn't focus on anything, and I have no right to put you in such a situation."

Aleksander Morozova knew that maybe he was actually a little too controlling of her. But the mere thought of her exposing herself now, when she had let him in on everything, awakened in him those hidden layers of his personality that he himself reached for very rarely, but when he did, there was simply no stopping him.

Especially now, when the war with Shu Han was hanging by a thread. In normal circumstances, the new Regent of West Ravka would undoubtedly deal with Nikolai's antics, but in this situation he simply couldn't do it. A civil war could be just as devastating as an external conflict. Lantsov Puppy had clearly forgotten who he was up against. These weren't tin soldiers to put away in a chest when the fun was over, but a real slaughter. No political marriage could fix such a mess, especially when things had already gone way too far.

"Unfortunately, I can't deny that," Aleksander finally answered Alina, feeling his hands involuntarily clench into fists. "Especially now," he growled through his teeth, and he wasn't talking about his Sun Summoner at all, but about the situation in Os Alta, which was keeping him awake at night as much as his concern for his solnishka and their unborn children.

His precious girl paled slightly, and the thumb that had been rubbing his lower lip stopped in place. The Black General looked at her, seeing concern in her large eyes. And it was all because of him, because he had constantly forgotten about her condition. However, they were one, and he couldn't imagine how he could hide things from her that also concerned her. The only exception was the mention of merzost, but the Darkling couldn't bring himself to do that yet. Alina might do something stupid then, like when she had set off alone on her journey to the coast. His Sun Summoner was still acting on impulse, and learning to control it would come with time. What's more, The Black General still didn't know how he would pay for using dark magic this time, and considering his first incident with it – which had left no damage to his health – he decided not to spread panic in his solnishka for now.

“Is it Nikolai?” Alina finally asked, tearing him out of his reverie.

Aleksander had to admit that she surprised him. His precious girl had never given any sign of knowing anything about the riots at the port. But she was clearly finally starting to learn how to run a kingdom. And although her question left him in a small shock, it also made the Darkling feel an indescribable sense of pride.

“So you know,” The Black General replied, giving her an understanding look, at which she smiled out of the corner of her mouth.

“Weren’t you the one who told me that I would one day be the queen of Ravka, Sasha?” his Sun Summoner asked him, running her thumb over his lower lip again and sending a pleasant shiver down his spine despite all the tension he was feeling. “Some people apparently already treat me like that and share information with me that they think should reach my ears.” Here his precious girl looked deep into his eyes again, to see what he thought of it.

But the Darkling could only be proud of her. Because that was what he had wanted for her ever since he had seen her enter the Winter Fete that day, dressed in her black and gold kefta. Alina Starkov was born for great things and deserved them more than anyone. She could be the faith and hope of all the Grisha and all the otkazats’ya, while he himself would be her commanding hand of justice, keeping their enemies away from Ravka.

"And they do the right thing," Aleksander told his precious girl after a moment. "So if you have heard of Nikolai, milaya, then you should know that she has been trying to ruin all the results of my trip to Ahmrat Jen and the negotiations with Queen Leyti." The Black General narrowed his eyes involuntarily, feeling the familiar twinge of rage from a few days ago in the port return to him involuntarily, making his blood boil.

"How does Nikolai get in your way, Sasha?" Alina asked him, becoming noticeably serious and moving her hand from his lips to his cheek.

"He introduced disastrous tax breaks on goods imported from us by Shu, in order to cut off our main source of finance." The Darkling's eyes turned into two leaking slits. "But I immediately restored the previous order. Nevertheless, the situation is tense. The fool thinks he can bend me to his will and thus control me, while realizing that I will never agree to it. And yet he constantly tries to do so. And he seems to think that marrying Ehri Kir-Taban will effectively tie my hands, and then I will dance to his tune," Aleksander literally gritted this out through his teeth. "In the meantime, he only hastens the war before we have time to rearm."

His precious girl placed her other hand on his cheek, turning his head slightly towards her, as she had already learned that when the new Regent spoke of Ravka's problems, he somewhat lost touch with reality.

"Sasha, can the war with Shu Han still be prevented?" his Sun Summoner asked him, looking deeply into his eyes.

The Darkling could have told her literally anything now to calm her down. He could have poured some comfort into her heart, something his children growing inside her needed as well. Except that she already knew too much. And lying to her would destroy the trust they had tried to build between them.

"As long as old Queen Leyti sits on the throne, perhaps," he explained to his precious girl, finally calming down a bit. Whether it was because he had shared his doubts with her, or whether something else was responsible, the new Regent of West Ravka accepted it with great relief and gratitude. "But they're also preparing for a coup. And if her unpredictable granddaughter miraculously comes to power, she won't care about any peace treaties."

The Black General felt Alina's hands holding his face tremble slightly. The Shadow Summoner blamed himself for her condition again, and the paralyzing fear returned to him with redoubled force, taking all the air from his lungs.

"Is there anything we can do, Sasha?" she asked him, her eyes searching for the assurance he couldn't give her.

"We have to keep our finger on the pulse," the Darkling replied, deciding that it was time to change the atmosphere between them a little, before it became so thick that nothing could help them anymore. "And in the meantime, I can take care of my woman's whims."

His precious girl backed away from him a little, sending him a meaningful look. The fear eventually disappeared from it, and there appeared a familiar glint of feistyness that The Black General loved so much about her.

"Does fulfilling whims exclude the senseless risking of one's own life?" Alina asked him, smiling slightly and moving her thumb again to the Darkling's lower lip, and then running his fingertips over it.

Aleksander looked at her with determination, while the temperature of his blood suddenly began to reach a state close to boiling.

"If my family is involved, I will never stop endangering it," the Darkling replied, unexpectedly grabbing Alina by the wrist and gently pulling her towards him.

His Sun Summoner did not remain indifferent to his suggestion. She instinctively rose from her chair, moving to the lap of The Black General. She wrapped her arms around his neck, then leaned over him and kissed him passionately. Her hair freed itself from the loose bun at her neck, spilling in a white cascade over both of their shoulders. His precious girl's fingers slid into his dark curls, pulling them slightly. Aleksander involuntarily moaned when Alina almost immediately deepened their kiss. His hands possessively grabbed her from the lower back, reminding her who she belonged to. As always, her taste and scent slightly clouded the Darkling. His Sun Summoner was getting better at what she did, causing all the blood to flow down his body. His thoughts were momentarily cleared of all doubts and worries, filling themselves entirely with Alina. Their kiss became so passionate that the air between them became heavy with lust. They shouldn't delay any longer, when their bodies were practically screaming for connection.

And then, as their tongues were fighting for dominance, there was a knock on the door. His precious girl sighed into his lips, reluctantly pulling away from Aleksander to help him catch his breath. The knocking sounded again. The Black General wanted to howl in disappointment, and Alina seemed to understand perfectly well what he was struggling with, because she reluctantly rose from his lap, straightening her kefta and returning to the chair she had been sitting on earlier.

The Shadow Summoner promised himself and her in his mind that they weren't done with each other yet. When he himself straightened up as well, quickly running his fingers through his slightly tousled hair, he finally called out, his voice still tinged with frustration, "Come in!"

The library doors swung open and none other than Ivan walked in. The sight of him immediately brought Aleksander back to his usual level of control and sober judgment.

"What's going on?" he asked his Heartrender as he stopped right in front of him, agitation written all over his usually stoic face.

"Forgive the intrusion, moi Soverenyi," his Corporalki said, bowing slightly to Alina as well. "But three of our ships docked in the harbor have just been set on fire."

Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:

Notes:

Hello my loves! 🖤🌷
So our journey has begun. I was happy to show what Aleksander felt when Alina told him that he would be a father. There is a lot of things happening here and my lore will be expanded soon (I just have introduced some things now). Nikolai has already started to cause troubles, but he forgot who Aleksander really is. And when Sasha is additionally in his overprotective mode… being Lantsov Puppy, I would not make him angry. Also, as you can see, Ivan will always be a cock-blocker, hihi.
In next chapters there will be a lot of events and feelings waiting for you. I will deliver you some intimacy, some emotions, some secrets and some answers. You will also meet new characters and new intrigues. Politics and war will blend with love here, creating a storyline full of new discoveries and fantasy. Because it is what GV will always be to me: dystopian world full of magic. And in the middle of it there will be Aleksander and Alina, trying to overcome their problems. I dedicate this story to Sasha, though – he will be my main interest here (his feelings, his past, his decisions, his thoughts, his parenthood), but Alina will also not be forgotten. Because they make a whole. And I hope this story will prove it even more.
As it was with “He’ll be Back for Her”, I hope you will support me and my writing like you amazingly did it before. I am forever grateful for your support. You are the best Readers I could dream of.
Happy new week and see you next Sunday 🖤🌷
Ewa

Chapter 4: The man who vowed to protect the girl

Summary:

Starkov, this person was greeting her.
I know you don't trust me, and I understand it perfectly, because I feel exactly the same way about you. But I have information for you that you might find useful. National security is at stake, so I want to meet with you on neutral ground as soon as possible. Your lover will never agree to that, which is why I'm contacting you about this. You know me, and you realize I wouldn't do this unless I deemed it absolutely necessary. So if you have any common sense, schedule a meeting for me, and I'll be there. No trickery, Starkov. I've decided to trust you, and I hope you won't abuse it. I'm waiting for your reply. I'm in Os Kervo and will be here for the next week, and then I have to return to Os Alta. So hurry, or you'll miss out on a real treat.
P.S. Address this letter to the person who sent it. She's a distant relative of mine, with whom I'm staying.
Zoya

Notes:

❗❗THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A LOT OF VIOLENCE❗❗
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Ch2

❗❗THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A LOT OF VIOLENCE❗❗

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was no secret on this side of The True Sea that Aleksander Morozova possessed a self-control almost as impressive as the powers he wielded. The Darkling rarely lost his composure, and when he did, it was heard even on The Wandering Isle. His enemies knew that crossing him was like walking a tightrope, where one careless move risked encountering the painful reality of his righteous anger, the stuff of legends more terrifying than the stories mothers used to frighten their disobedient children, telling them of the monsters that would find them if they disrespected their elders. All because The Black General didn't abuse his power without reason, always waiting for the moment when his blow would prove more deadly. The Shadow Summoner deliberately suppressed many things, lulling his opponents into submission until they revealed themselves, becoming easier targets. And that's why he became more unpredictable. Despite his innate pragmatism and above-average intelligence, Aleksander Morozova had a knack for translating his strength into intentions. It was difficult to predict what he would do in a dangerous situation, because only he knew how to play the cards to win a given battle. And it was his self-control that helped him in everything. The same self-control that now was seeping through the new Regent of West Ravka's fingers, igniting his blood.

Ivan was standing before him, tension etched on his usually stoic face, clearly sensing the storm raging within his commander. Alina, on the other hand, paled noticeably, likely weighing all the available options, none of which she liked, as each carried a greater or lesser degree of danger. Aleksander guessed what his Sun Summoner was thinking and could only hope she wouldn't ask a question he would be forced to answer in the negative.

"Sir?" his Heartrender asked after a moment, noticing that the Darkling had gripped the back of the chair before him so tightly that the wood began to creak dangerously under the force of his grip. "Do you want me to go to the port right now?"

The Black General's eyes were now two thin slits, while he struggled to maintain his composure. Those damned Shu Han merchants clearly hadn't understood what he had been saying. There was a deeper meaning to this whole situation, and while most people in his position would have simply reacted with force, Aleksander didn't resort to thoughtless provocation if the risk of making a mistake proved too great. Until The Shadow Summoner identified the culprits, he would have to apply the principle of limited trust and sound judgment. The situation between Ravka and Shu Han was too tense to employ the same tactics as in peacetime.

However, one thing seemed certain. Their southern neighbors would be awaiting his reaction. The arsonists must therefore be caught and punished, because if the orders had come from Ahmrat Jen, the local authorities would never admit it. If Aleksander took no action, the sabotage could be repeated. Caution and prudence were required here, while also sending a strong message that West Ravka would not tolerate the destruction of their property or violations of the peace treaty.

"Send Fedyor with a small reconnaissance team to the location," the Darkling finally said, focusing his attention on Ivan. "You and I will wait an hour and then go there too. However, we shouldn't act hastily when we're certainly being watched. We'll keep our cool and make a strong first impression. In the meantime, order Fedyor to capture all potential arsonists so we can deal with them when we reach the port. Is that clear?" The Black General's gaze was as cold as steel.

The Corporalki nodded, ready to carry out his orders.

Aleksander gripped the back of his chair even tighter to give vent to his emotions.

"You may go," he ordered Ivan, biting each word through his teeth. "Take care of everything, and we'll meet in my office in an hour."

The Heartrender bowed to him again and, without another word, walked briskly toward the library exit. The door closed behind him with a dull thud, and only when it did, the Darkling pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing the air he'd held in his teeth with a loud whoosh. The worst part was the single realization of what was about to happen. It was almost uncanny that, of all his problems, this one had begun to occupy his thoughts more than the rest.

And of course, the Shadow Summoner hadn't been wrong at all. He didn't need a tether to anticipate Alina's first question, which would come when she and Aleksander were alone again.

"Sasha?" his precious girl asked him, rounding the library table and standing close to him to cover his hand, which was clenched on the back of the chair, with her small palm. "Can you take me to the quay with you? You know I could be of some use to you," she told him, her voice laced with anxiety, turning the blood in the Darkling's veins from boiling to liquid ice.

The Black General closed his eyes. It was a pity that his foresight sometimes proved better than he himself would have liked. So he wasn't wrong. But unfortunately, he couldn't agree to what Alina asked of him, even if she herself began to reproach him.

"Sasha, I see what's coming," his Sun Summoner spoke again, and this time there was more desperation in her voice. "You're trying to keep me away from matters that concern us both again, aren't you?" It was a rhetorical question, so an answer seemed unnecessary. "Silence won't do you any good, Aleksander Morozova. I won't let you leave until we discuss this."

The Darkling could have sworn his normal reaction would have been irritation. Anyone else who spoke to him in such a way would have faced the consequences of their insolence. But Alina didn't fall into that category. She did it because she was his equal. Or at least she would be someday. She hadn't yet gained experience in this matter, and she couldn't unnecessarily endanger herself and their future family. But since Aleksander knew his Sun Summoner was doing this out of concern, not control over their relationship, he couldn't be mad at her. She didn't deserve it, because if they switched positions, he would likely do the same. And he'd just be much more blunt in his persuasion.

"No way, Alya," Aleksander replied, turning his head towards her. And he seemed to have made a mistake, because the sight of his precious girl's large black eyes didn't make it any easier. "This is no place for you in this state. Who knows what's going on there. And I won't be able to protect you properly if those responsible for this mess have to be apprehended," he stated in an authoritative voice, trying to ignore her pleading gaze.

But Alina didn't seem convinced. She tightened her grip on his wrist and even frowned, as if refusing to acknowledge the possibility.

"Sasha, listen to me. You can't deny that you're a little control freak." Her words made Aleksander raise an eyebrow in surprise, but his Sun Summoner was right. But she also had to understand why he was doing it. Ravka wouldn't have been on the map centuries ago if the Darkling hadn't taken his mission and the way he pursued it so seriously. "And I must admit, I've learned to appreciate that in you," his precious girl added, somewhat disconcerting him. "But this time, I can truly be of use to you. It's already dark, so my powers could be helpful. Why won't you give me a chance to support yourself?" she asked, her plea morphing into her typical stubbornness, one of the traits that most impressed The Black General.

How could Aleksander resolve this amicably? Alina didn't respond well to rejection, as her desire to protect others often pushed her to reckless actions. It would take her many long years to learn to assess a situation before deciding to act. Right now, his solnishka should focus on her health and seeing her pregnancy through to its due date. That alone was driving the Darkling mad, as he could see her condition steadily worsening.

"Alina," The Shadow Summoner finally replied, looking at her lower lip, which was quivering slightly with emotion. "It's not just that I don't want to put you in danger, though you're right, that's one of my reasons." The coldness in Aleksander's eyes, brought on by the news Ivan had brought him, subsided somewhat. "But it's also part of our strategy. I don't want to drag you into politics when it's not absolutely necessary. I'm the one who does the dirty work, milaya. Not you," The Black General reasoned, seeing her purse her lips slightly as if about to argue with him again. But she remained silent, which the Darkling took as a good sign. He reached for her chin to turn her head – which Alina had tilted to the side in the meantime – back toward him. "Let me do my job, Alya," he added, finally making eye contact with her.

With that, he leaned toward his precious girl, kissing her gently. She clearly wasn't expecting it, but quickly succumbed to the caress. Aleksander felt the emotions bubbling beneath her skin, his Sun Summoner unconsciously pouring all her fears and disappointment into the kiss. She needed time, and so it seemed best to simply give it to her.

For that reason, Aleksander finally pulled away from her. He rested his forehead on the top of Alina's head for a moment, sighing heavily. Then he slid his hands from her cheeks to her shoulders, reluctantly taking a step back.

"I need to go now, milaya," he told her, realizing that if he dragged it out, his precious girl would start stopping him again. "Don't stay here too long. I'll have the oprichniki escort you to our chamber when you're finished." With that, The Black General turned his back on her, marching toward the library exit.

Just before he reached it, he heard his Sun Summoner's voice, almost whispering to him, "Whatever you do, Aleksander, remember us."

These words froze the Darkling in place, his hand clenched around the doorknob.

Had he heard this before? Why did these words sound strangely familiar, as if fate were warning him against something?

And suddenly, the Shadow Summoner found himself in a completely different room, its walls carved from stone. Instead of shelves full of books, the granite void was illuminated here and there by torches. The building was in a dilapidated state and lacked basic furnishings. A primitive fireplace, burning thick logs of wood, which served as the only source of heat on this chilly early spring evening, was placed in the center of the main partition wall. Animal skins were scattered here and there, serving as cover for the inhabitants of these ruins. Someone had left the brass vessels on the stone table, forgetting to clear away the remains of a meal of quail eggs and stale bread. And there, in an arched alcove in the stone, someone was tugging on Aleksander's hand, slender fingers clinging to the sleeve of his black robe.

"Aleksander, please don't go there," Luda pleaded, desperation evident in her voice. "It's a trick, I can feel it. Otherwise, the king would have sent his knights to you, just like he always does. You yourself said you didn't trust him!"

The Darkling turned to her, seeing concern in her eyes. The problem was, The Shadow Summoner couldn't deny Anastas's will. However cruel and incompetent a ruler Lantsov was, the safety of all the Grisha still depended on him.

Aleksander felt a wave of tenderness wash over him. Luda was the first person in his life who truly cared about him. Though they were often separated by The Shadow Summoner's duties to wage war in accordance with his promise to the king, they always returned sooner or later. And when that moment arrived, the Darkling's heart filled with peace. Luda was his only family, and though he knew the illusion of happiness would be short-lived when her mortality intervened, he resolved to cherish every single moment with her. Especially now, when his Healer had confessed to him that she was expecting his child. And the mere thought of it made each separation more difficult. Even though the Grisha had received these ruins as a gift for Aleksander's help in winning the war against Fjerda, they were still hunted like animals with no choice but to hide. That was why The Shadow Summoner continued to do as king expected. The situation of his people had improved, but it hadn't changed. Many humiliations still lay before the Darkling before Grisha could sleep soundly without worrying about someone slitting their throats in the night.

"I must go to the capital, my love," Aleksander told his Healer, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. "It's so that one day you won't have to worry about me returning to you. So that our child will grow up in a better world," he explained, but tears welled in her eyes, clinging to her lower lashes and looking as if they might spill down her cheeks.

"But Aleksander, I have a bad feeling," Luda told him, her fingers still clutching at his dark robe. "What if you don't arrive in Os Alta on time? I don't think the king can afford to lose such an effective commander as you. Don't go, not this time," she pleaded.

The Darkling looked at her sadly, understanding what she was facing. Ever since she had realized she was expecting, his beloved had become even more overprotective. It was entirely natural, and though Aleksander had never experienced it from his own mother, he knew it stemmed solely from her concern, not possessiveness. The problem was, the fate of all the Grisha depended on him. While the thought of serving Anastas drove him mad, the Shadow Summoner understood that he had neither the means nor the opportunity to oppose him. Rebellion was out of the question for now, so all that remained was to continue as a vassal of the Crown, with all the humiliation that entailed.

But the Darkling couldn't bear the panic and helplessness in his Healer's eyes. He knew he should reassure her, and the only way to do that was to make her realize they were going to be separated anyway, because Luda was planning a trip to the south to visit her sick father.

"My love, you're leaving too," Aleksander told her, and guilt flashed in her eyes. "We'll meet again before you even know it. I promise you I'll come back to you. I'll come back to you. Tell me, have I ever broken any of my promises?" he asked her, knowing Luda wouldn't be able to deny it.

What brought them closer was the fact that they could always rely on each other. Not only in terms of simple physical tenderness, which the Darkling had never experienced before, but also in keeping their word. Luda didn't demand lies or declarations from him that he couldn't keep. She accepted him as he was. With his fears, nightmares, frequent outbursts of anger and melancholy, and his distrust of everyone and everything, which she had only just managed to partially break down enough for him to open up to her.

Luda lowered her gaze to the stone floor, unable to deny it. It was obvious she wanted to protest, but she wasn't one to do so. Her inner light had always drawn the Darkling. His Healer had a big heart, one that even held room for someone like him.

"I don't know, Aleksander," she said regardless, her obvious fear gripping the Shadow Summoner's heart. "It's just..." Their gazes met, and Luda finally released his robe to gently cup his cheeks, placing her hands there. "It all weighs me down. I don't like it when you leave for the capital. I'm less afraid when you go to war."

This fear was irrational and stemmed from the state his Healer was in now. If anyone could be nervous about someone's condition right now, it was none other than Aleksander. That was why he assured her once again that he was in no danger. Besides, he would never abandon his family for good. He had no choice but to answer the king's call. But that didn't mean he'd lose his life there.

"Luda, I have to go there. Otherwise, Anastas might do something unpredictable that would take its toll on all the Grisha." The Shadow Summoner's hands brushed her dark locks from her forehead in reassurance.

In truth, the Darkling had already made his decision. Nothing could sway him, as his duty to Ravka had always been at the top of his list of priorities. His Healer knew this well. She had exhausted all attempts to keep him. So she lowered her gaze again and merely whispered, "Whatever you do, Aleksander, remember us."

The Black General remained motionless, his hand clenched on the library doorknob. The same words, the same context. But not the same man who heard it. The other was an idealist who had set his priorities differently. If this one trusted in anything, it was in himself. And no. Today's Aleksander Morozova was nothing like his former self. Eternity had left a mark on him that time would never erase. Just as it would never restore the luxury of recklessness. If you cared about something, you defended it with all your might. Perhaps the Darkling was possessive, or perhaps he was truly obsessed with control, as Alina had rightly observed in her moment of honesty. And just as he hadn't once resented Luda for caring for him, now he couldn't help but agree with his solnishka that he had to have the final say. Back then, in the cathedral, his Sun Summoner had accused him of something exactly like that. Then she'd spoken of his will to control the power it took to tame it. Now she was referring to his overprotectiveness, something The Black General neither wanted nor intended to change.

Because he himself would never make the same mistake that brought doom to him and Luda. Aleksander Morozova would never lose this family. He would defend it to the last drop of blood, even if it were the last thing he ever did.

The Darkling turned around, seeing Alina still standing by her chair, her hand gripping the back of it tightly. Her eyes were glassy, and her lips pressed so tightly together they formed a thin line. And though The Black General knew time was pressing, it was a right moment for him to make one more promise. But this time, one that wouldn't be just empty words, but actual actions for which he would take full responsibility.

And so Aleksander came back to the center of the library, allowing himself one brief moment of delay. Because sometimes, to make someone feel safe, it wasn't enough to simply feed them with vows, but to prove that the line between words and actions didn't truly exist, and that the two were essentially the same thing.

The Darkling placed his hands on Alina's cheeks again, leaning towards her lips to whisper directly into them, "I definitely won't lose you this time," he assured her, then let her eyes close in relief before finally kissing her.

***

Alina was staring at the closed library door for so long that she had lost track of time. Her feet were slightly numb from the same position, but she couldn't even move, feeling as if she was literally glued to her seat. Seconds turned into minutes, and those minutes turned into hours. Finally, the clock chimed midnight, but The Sun Summoner barely reacted. She was alone again, and fear paralyzed her just as it had that night. The memories remained vivid in her mind, for only two weeks had passed since a fear so overwhelming it was simply beyond human comprehension had torn her apart from the inside, leaving behind only a bloody stain of helplessness, desperation, and a powerlessness so immense that no magic, not even the most powerful, could remedy it.

On that fateful evening, Alina had said goodbye to Ivan, heading to the very spot where she now was sitting. Waiting for Aleksander's return had been driving her mad, so the future queen of Ravka had found something to occupy her mind to make the time pass more quickly. Reading, however, had seemed to soothe her greatly. As had searching for information in ancient books, which had required concentration and systematicity, leaving no room for anything else. The worst moments then had come only in the middle of the night. Alina often had woken up drenched in sweat, staring at the empty space on the pillow beside her. Sometimes she had placed her hand on her stomach, as if to reassure herself that nothing had changed. As if to re-establish herself in a reality where Aleksander had been safe and sound, though far from her.

That evening, however, the sound of dozens of feet running down the corridor had proved as unexpected as it had been terrifying. People had been shouting to each other, and amidst the shouts, Ivan's voice had been able to be distinguished, issuing indiscreet orders to the Grishas gathered outside the door and to the palace servants. Over the past few weeks, Alina had learned to recognize The Heartrender's moods. Although they hadn’t talked much, his silence had always proved incredibly telling. But when The Corporalki had spoken, it had been for a reason. Especially when he had shouted like he had been doing it now, turning the blood in Alina's veins to liquid ice.

Without a second thought, the future queen of Ravka had leaped from her chair. Without thinking, she had placed her hand on her lower abdomen and run toward the door leading to the hallway, violently tugging on the handle. She had narrowly missed colliding with one of The Healers who had just rushed out of the room opposite, clearly intending to run to the infirmary. The Sun Summoner had grabbed her elbow, stopping her in her tracks before the breathless blonde had been able to go away.

"What's going on?" she had asked, recognizing the terrified girl. Her name was Selena, and Alina had worked with her several times on jurda parem overdose victims.

The girl had hesitated, opening her mouth to respond, but closing it again a moment later. All because Ivan, now looking more menacing than a storm cloud, had appeared at her side.

"I told you to go to the infirmary, Selena!" The Heartrender had scolded the blonde, making her shiver slightly. "We need all the help we can get! I don't see you here anymore, understand?" he had hissed at her with such venom that if Alina hadn't gotten to know him a bit better over the past two weeks, she would have thought he had been acting solely out of superiority and a desire for control.

The blonde had glanced at The Sun Summoner apologetically, then nodded to her temporary commander.

"Yes, Colonel. But our Queen wanted to know…" Selena had begun, unable to finish her sentence as The Heartrender had grabbed her elbow, pulling her away from Alina.

"I said! To the infirmary! Now! I'll take care of your queen!" Ivan had growled at her, oblivious to the people running around.

The Healer hadn’t let herself be told again. She had broken into a run, dodging the panicked inhabitants of The Summer Palace along the way.

"What's going on, Ivan?" The Sun Summoner hadn’t been able to bear the uncertainty any longer.

The Corporalki had finally seemed to notice her, giving her a look so suggestive that there had been no doubt that something terrible had happened.

"Go back to your room, Miss Starkov," he had ordered her, but she hadn’t even flinched.

At one time, she would probably have received some hateful remarks from The Heartrender, but since she and Aleksander had returned from Tula Valley, Ivan seemed to have changed his attitude towards her somewhat. Even when Alina had helped him run The Summer Palace, they only had clashed a few times, but it had been nowhere near as fraught with mutual animosity as in the past. They had both learned a cautious respect for each other. And while they had been far from friends, they at least had tolerated each other. And that had meant no shouting or giving orders, and above all, respect for the positions they each had held.

"Believe me, you don't want to see this," Ivan had warned her, which only further alarmed the future queen of Ravka. Sensing her rapid heartbeat, so dangerous in her current state, The Heartrender had seemed to understand that he had no right to deny her the right to make her own decision. So he had added, "They just brought in the General, wounded, and his condition is very serious. It would be best if you didn't see him like this, Miss Starkov. Let our Healers bandage him up a bit, and then I promise I'll send someone for you. As long as you..." The Corporalki had stopped, seeing what had been happening to his interlocutor.

Alina had staggered against a nearby wall, as if someone had punched her square in the stomach, barely bracing herself with a trembling hand. She had felt faint and dizzy. Bile had risen in her throat and spread across her tongue, turning it into a wooden stake. The Sun Summoner had been able to also swear that she'd forgotten how to breathe. Dark spots had filled her vision, and each intake of air had burned her more than if someone had poured fire into her lungs. Ivan's words had equally intoxicated her, sapping all her vitality. But amidst all these emotions, the future queen of Ravka also had found her instinct. And it had told her to go to the infirmary immediately, even if she had to crawl there herself.

So Alina had moved forward, keeping to the whitewashed wall as she had been walking. Tears had streamed down her cheeks, their salty taste mixing with the bitterness on her tongue. Ivan had been shouting something behind her, but she had ignored it. Need had been driving her forward, though her body had clearly resisted. Aleksander had been all she had been able to think about now, and the knowledge that the father of her children had been likely fighting for his life had been as terrifying as it had been irrational. He, the mighty Black General, who had survived for centuries, had been lying bleeding to death in the palace hospital. The Sun Summoner had not been able to believe it, yet she had known that she'd sensed it. That every sleepless night and every nightmare had been a prelude to what she had feared most.

Alina hadn’t even realized that she'd staggered onto trembling legs into the infirmary. She'd traveled the entire distance practically by heart, as if something had been pulling her there. She had pushed through the small crowd gathering around one of the beds. And though tears had been obscuring her vision, the girl hadn’t needed her eyes to immediately recognize who had been lying there. It had been her soul that had surged toward him, drawn by his still body.

"Aleksander!" Alina had screamed heartbreakingly, pushing her way between the Healers. All heads immediately had turned toward her, clearing the way for her. "Not this! I beg you!" The Sun Summoner had sunk into a chair beside the bed, her palm searching for the hand of the motionless Black General. His face had been paler than usual, and blood had been seeping from beneath his black shirt. Even though someone had bandaged his entire chest, the red liquid continued to spill out, draining a little of the Darkling's life force with each drop. "What are you waiting for?" the future Queen of Ravka had screamed at those of Corporalki who had been gathered around the bed. "Do something! It’s your Saint's command!"

All the Grisha gathered around Aleksander Morozova's bed immediately had thrown themselves back into their work, interrupted by Alina's sudden appearance. She simply had slumped back against the back of the chair, completely numb. Her tears had been streaming and streaming treacherously down her cheeks, but she had been only interested in one thing: that The Black General survive. That The Making return him to her, just as it had a few weeks earlier, when their lives had been also threatened. Alina had prayed for this to all the Saints, promising them that she would do literally anything if Aleksander came back to her. And that she would never let him risk himself like that again. Because he had had something to live for. And he hadn’t deserved to lose it so soon after gaining it. As they both hadn’t.

The Sun Summoner wiped her tears with the back of her kefta, blinking. Now, several days later, those memories hurt her just as much as they had then. And when the emotions returned, she became their slave. She wasn't ashamed of her feelings. She only blamed herself for failing to protect the Darkling when he had needed her so desperately.

A knock on the library door finally brought Alina back to reality. She sniffed a few more times, instinctively straightening in her chair and smoothing her hair, which had broken loose from the bun at the nape of her neck as she'd dug her fingers into it, lost in melancholy. The Sun Summoner was certain it wasn't Aleksander, as he likely wouldn't return before dawn if the situation on the quay truly got out of hand. The guards wouldn't dare disturb her peace either, so it had to be someone who realized Alina was here. Someone close enough to her to know her daily routine.

"Come in!" the future Queen of Ravka called, tugging at her kefta, which was finally starting to feel a little too tight.

The door opened slightly, and someone cautiously peered inside. That storm of red hair would be recognizable anywhere. Genya made eye contact with her surprised friend and then stepped into the room, making sure no one followed her. The Tailor was holding something in her hand and hurriedly approached The Sun Summoner, taking the chair where Aleksander had previously sat. The redhead didn't need to wait for permission, because despite Alina's current social standing, the two of them had always maintained the same friendly relationship they had enjoyed since they met. And the future queen of Ravka would feel uneasy if that ever changed.

"Genya? What are you doing here?" The Sun Summoner couldn't hide her surprise. "It's well after midnight. Has something happened?" It really was an unusual time for such a meeting. Especially since David had left several hours earlier, and The Tailor wasn't one to deny herself sleep without reason.

Her red-haired friend had a worried expression on her face. This didn't sit well with Alina, who immediately became alert, her heart pounding even though nothing had happened yet.

"I wanted to come to you earlier, Sunshine, but I saw that the General joined you first, and then Ivan," The Tailor explained. "And what I want to talk to you about should come to you first." Genya seemed to realize something and immediately changed the subject. "But first, tell me how are you feeling?" she asked, and this question further baffled The Sun Summoner, suggesting her friend was deliberately delaying revealing the reason for her visit.

Alina felt a lump in her throat, but the only way to find out was to endure this introductory speech and finally get to the heart of the matter.

"I'm fine, Genya," she replied, looking the redhead straight in the eye. "Now will you finally tell me what's going on, why you're sneaking in here after midnight, so you don't accidentally run into anyone?" the future queen of Ravka asked, feeling that if she didn't find out soon, she'd lose her mind with speculation.

The Tailor lowered her gaze, lightly biting her lower lip. She began to fiddle with the envelope in her hands, looking as if she were wondering if she had made the right decision.

"This afternoon, the messenger brought some mail, which I was the one to receive this afternoon, as Ivan usually looks through it before distributing it," Genya finally said, still undecided if she was doing the right thing. "It was probably fate, because I received a letter from my aunt, which went directly to me before anyone else could see it," the redhead explained, then looked The Sun Summoner straight in the eye in a meaningful way.

The future queen of Ravka frowned, as a certain part of her friend's statement immediately caught her attention.

"I didn't know you had any living family, especially an aunt?" she asked Genya, surprised by this information, as The Corporalki had never mentioned any of her relatives.

And here, tension showed on The Tailor's face.

"Because I don't," she explained to Alina, adding nothing more.

The Sun Summoner felt her heart begin to beat even faster. So what was this all about? Was it some kind of trick? Who was writing to her friend, who had clearly come here specifically for this correspondence?

"So..." the future queen of Ravka began, to which The Tailor nodded.

"Yes, your suspicions are correct. I don't have any aunts who could have written to me, so the person who did was someone else entirely." Genya's expression deepened. "And best of all, that person wasn't writing to me at all. She chose me because she knew that by contacting you, her letter would be undoubtfully intercepted, as the General would immediately stop it due to the security protocol implemented at the palace." The Corporalki paused, waiting for Alina to consider what she had just heard.

A cold shiver crept down The Sun Summoner's spine. Who could have wanted to contact her behind Aleksander's back and understood the security systems well enough to know how to bypass them?

"Who is this?" the girl finally asked, reaching out to take the envelope the redhead was holding.

Genya still hesitated. Why had she come here then? To drive the future queen of Ravka mad?

"Alina, are you sure you want to know?" The Corporalki asked, still not handing over the letter, which was clearly intended for her friend.

"Genya, please, I'm not a child." Alina rarely lost control around The Tailor, but this uncertainty was driving her crazy. "Are you saying the letter is actually addressed to me? Then give it to me, because now you have no other choice." The Sun Summoner's hand was shaking slightly as she rested her elbow on the table, refusing to change her mind. The redhead sighed, but handed her the correspondence.

"I warned you," she added as Alina opened the envelope. "You might not like this, Sunshine, but the General would be furious if he found out," she said, waiting for her friend to read the message.

The Sun Summoner began reading the short note written in a flourishing, ornate handwriting:

Starkov, this person was greeting her.

I know you don't trust me, and I understand it perfectly, because I feel exactly the same way about you. But I have information for you that you might find useful. National security is at stake, so I want to meet with you on neutral ground as soon as possible. Your lover will never agree to that, which is why I'm contacting you about this. You know me, and you realize I wouldn't do this unless I deemed it absolutely necessary. So if you have any common sense, schedule a meeting for me, and I'll be there. No trickery, Starkov. I've decided to trust you, and I hope you won't abuse it. I'm waiting for your reply. I'm in Os Kervo and will be here for the next week, and then I have to return to Os Alta. So hurry, or you'll miss out on a real treat.

P.S. Address this letter to the person who sent it. She's a distant relative of mine, with whom I'm staying.

Zoya

Alina held her breath, unsure how to react. On the one hand, she was shocked, and on the other, she felt furious. Another part of her mind told her she shouldn't ignore the letter, because The Squaller would never stoop to requesting a meeting unless she had some vested interest. And the fact that she had so carefully bypassed the security protocol Aleksander had perfected over the years also suggested that Zoya must have been very keen to speak with The Sun Summoner face-to-face. Alina knew her well enough to understand that Nazyalensky considered herself an honorable person. She hated her rival enough to avoid anything that would benefit her more than the humiliation she could inflict on herself by contacting the future queen of Ravka, who, in her mind, had taken everything from her. Moreover, Zoya wasn't foolish enough to plan a ruse on someone else's turf. Most of The Second Army was once again in the hands of The Black General, and with what remnants still served her, the dark-haired Etherealki wouldn't have breached The Summer Palace. No. Even though Alina despised The Squaller and knew her duplicitous nature, this time she suspected that Nazyalensky was doing all this with herself in mind, perhaps seeking revenge on someone, or perhaps an alliance with The Sun Summoner might bring her some personal gain.

"I told you it was bad," Genya said after a moment, as her friend folded the letter and slipped it into the envelope. "And what will you do, Sunshine?"

Alina's face grew noticeably more serious, and determination flashed in her dark eyes.

"I'll meet her on neutral ground," she replied to the redhead, staring blankly ahead and considering something.

Her friend paled.

"What?" The Corporalki couldn't believe it. "She's up to something, Alina, and you know it too! Besides, General..." Genya trailed off as The Sun Summoner's confident gaze settled on her again with such intensity that The Tailor knew she should remain silent.

"Yes, you're right, Aleksander would sooner tear her to pieces than let her speak," Alina agreed with the redhead before she could even finish her sentence. "That's why I'll tell him everything, and I will do it right after I meet with Zoya." Determination etched itself on the future queen of Ravka's face.

Genya began to shake her head, clearly disliking the idea.

"What if she is planning some ambush?" she asked The Sun Summoner, seemingly regretting showing her the letter.

"Zoya won't harm us because we'll be prepared." Alina had no doubt about that. "You and Fedyor will help me, you have nothing to worry about."

The Tailor didn't seem convinced, but her friend's powers of persuasion were not something to be easily denied.

"But the General can't let you out of his sight, Sunshine," Genya said, looking the future queen of Ravka straight in the eye. "He won't let you out of the palace, especially with the unrest on the coast intensifying."

The Sun Summoner was well aware of this. The only chance was to get Zoya to the palace, otherwise the whole plan would fail. And Alina had already figured out how to do it.

"We'll meet in the secret tunnel in the infirmary," she informed the red-haired Corporalki. "The same one we escaped through to reach the Second Army camp," she said, not breaking eye contact with The Tailor. "And we'll do it while David and I are usually in the library. We'll have to hurry. Aleksander will be absorbed in work, as always, so this is the only time we can try our luck."

Genya still seemed to have doubts.

“Alina…” she began, but The Sun Summoner grabbed her wrist and gently squeezed her hand.

"I'll be fine," she assured her friend. "The only risk we're running is Aleksander capturing Zoya, and I can always handle that, don't worry."

The Tailor's gaze skimmed the determined face of the future Queen of Ravka before she slowly nodded.

"So how do you plan to do this, Sunshine?" she finally asked, though caution still lingered in her voice.

Alina began to look around, searching for the blank sheets of paper with notes that had been abandoned with The Black General's arrival, and the inkwell with the quill dipped in it. When she found them, she took one of the blank sheets and began writing a reply to Zoya, informing her of the meeting she had set in three days, giving herself some time to plan it. The tone of the correspondence was formal and reserved, as The Squaller deserved neither respect nor any sign of affection. When she finally finished, she handed both letters to Genya so she would know how to address the package before sending it off.

"Send this with tomorrow's mail," The Sun Summoner said, watching as The Tailor rose from her chair, ready to head for the door. "We'll meet tomorrow evening in the library to discuss further details. As soon as I see Fedyor at breakfast, I'll tell him everything. We need The Heartrender to avoid the risk of anything going wrong. Thank you for telling me, Genya," Alina added, smiling warmly at her red-haired friend. "Finally, I can be of some use instead of just sitting around."

The Tailor stopped just before leaving, this time with concern written on her face.

"Perhaps you'd like to come with me?" she asked the future queen of Ravka, noticing that she had recently turned terribly pale, and although her belly had already rounded slightly, there was no doubt that she herself had lost weight.

Before the trip to Tula Valley, Alina's body had taken on a pleasing shape, as she had slowly adjusted to motherhood. Now, however, she had lost weight significantly, and her constant lack of appetite wasn't making things any easier. And it didn't look like it would improve in any way. For now, however, The Sun Summoner still possessed the strength and determination to see her children through to their due date. Self-pity would only make the wait more difficult, so the girl had learned to ignore it for now. Especially since something else was driving her. Aleksander kept his eyes on her, and to avoid adding to his worries, the future queen of Ravka put on a good face, pretending that her condition was better than it seemed.

"Just half an hour more and I'll go to bed, I promise," Alina assured The Tailor. "I just want to organize my thoughts. Goodnight, Genya." The girl smiled warmly at her. "I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast."

The redhead looked at her one last time, returning her smile. Then she disappeared behind the library doors, leaving The Sun Summoner completely alone.

And suddenly, the future queen of Ravka felt so helpless she almost fell out of her chair. She gripped the tabletop for reassurance, suddenly feeling very cold, and her vision began to blur. Her heart seemed to beat faster, struggling to pump blood to the rest of her body. And then a voice she had heard before echoed in her mind. And this time, it wasn't a dream; it happened in reality, filling her with boundless terror.

Be careful, Anmei. Be careful.

***

The night sky over The True Sea was glowing with warm hues of orange and purple, even though the July sun had long since set, disappearing behind the horizon, which was rippling peacefully with the waterline. However, this wasn't a typical sight in Os Kervo, where night in port usually meant tiny dots of lanterns lit on the decks of ships moored at the quay, resembling stars scattered across a firmament that had almost fallen into the water, colliding two elements with each other. All because the sky over West Ravka was ablaze. The sea breeze was blowing the choking smoke aside, forcing residents running along the breakwaters with buckets of water to shield their faces with cloths from the stinging sulfur particles that obstructed their breathing and brought tears to their eyes. Here and there, amidst the crowd of otkazats’ya, the blue keftas of Tidemakers and Squallers could be seen when they were trying to extinguish the blaze currently engulfing the masts of three Ravkan merchant ships. Between them, The Heartrenders reigned supreme, attempting to restore order to the dock, now a vast spectacle of panic and destruction.

Aleksander Morozova dismounted, landing on the cobblestone quay with a loud thud of his heavy boots. The man quickly spotted one of his captains from the jumble of men, and upon seeing his suggestive nod, his officer immediately ran to him. The Darkling handed him Morok's reins, ordering him to ensure the safety of his beloved horse. Although military mounts were accustomed to screams and the sound of gunfire, The Shadow Summoner hated tormenting animals. This rule applied especially to his black stallion, a faithful companion on the new Regent of West Ravka's journey to bring peace to his troubled homeland.

A moment later, he and Ivan were hurrying toward the seawall, the crowd parting meekly before them, as if the ubiquitous chaos affected everything but them. As soon as the familiar colonel in the red kefta came into Aleksander's field of vision, he quickened his pace even further. Within seconds, Fedyor finally spotted them. As commander of the entire unit, he issued a quick order to the Corporalki accompanying him and then moved toward his General and his companion, clearly pleased to see them both there. Officer Kaminsky seemed to be hoping that, together with his husband and the leader of The Second Army, they would finally restore peace on the quay.

"Sir," Fedyor greeted Aleksander, bowing slightly. Then he exchanged suggestive glances with Ivan as well. "We are well on our way to containing the situation, moi Soverenyi. According to the Etherealki commander, the masts are in the final stages of extinguishing, and we managed to apprehend several of the arsonists in the meantime, as you requested, General." The Heartrender had a look of concentration written on his handsome face. "What are your new orders, sir?" he asked, noticing the Darkling narrowing his eyes at him as he listened to his report.

“Where are they being held?” The Shadow Summoner wanted to know, already knowing what his next move would be.

Fedyor straightened respectfully, gesturing to Aleksander in the right direction.

“My men are holding them in the main grain depot, moi Soverenyi,” he replied, realizing he didn’t need to explain further, as his commander knew the location perfectly.

The Black General nodded stiffly, intending to head there immediately.

Before doing so, however, and ordering Ivan to join him, he added to Fedyor, “Continue your activities until the fire is completely extinguished. Then try to get on board to assess the damage. Finally, when you’ve sent the men back to their homes, you will come and report to me, Colonel Kaminsky. Is that clear?” The Heartrender nodded, and Aleksander turned his back on him, marching towards the biggest grain depot in Os Kervo.

Although chaos still reigned, it seemed the situation was slowly improving. People now knew what to do and weren't just running around idly in all directions. They were starting to follow a pattern, which meant that restoring order would take less time.

The Darkling was seething with rage, but he didn't show it. As always, during interrogations, he had to rely on his knowledge of human nature and carefully administer fear. This was far more terrifying than unnecessary shouting and loss of control. It also allowed The Black General to lull his captives into a state of alertness. They often made mistakes, falling for his cool calculations and deceptive, unruffled calm.

A moment later, Aleksander and Ivan were entering the grain depot, the lower floor of which had been converted into a temporary holding cell for prisoners. One of the captains of The Heartrenders immediately spotted them, approaching to report to his General and his Colonel.

"Sir," said the dark-haired, middle-aged Corporalki, bowing to the new arrivals. "We have three Shu Han citizens caught red-handed with a flammable substance of unknown origin in their possession at the time of their capture. Samples were immediately secured by our Fabrikators. All three are refusing any cooperation and haven't uttered a word since we brought them here." The Heartrender fell silent, likely expecting further questions.

Aleksander exchanged glances with Ivan, who nodded at his immediate subordinate.

"Leave us alone, Andrey," he ordered in his typically emotionless manner. "Find Colonel Kaminsky and help him restore order near the breakwaters."

The dark-haired captain nodded, calling his men to him. Once everyone had left the grain depot, The Black General moved toward the arsonists tied to wooden beams, finding one of the nearby crates and dragging it to the center of the room so he could easily make eye contact with the prisoners. The Shadow Summoner then sat on it in a somewhat ceremonial manner, waiting for Ivan to stand behind him.

"Well, well, well. Our dear guests from across the southern border seem to be disrespecting our rules of hospitality," Aleksander said, his voice calm for now, but carrying a hidden threat. He decided to use the Shu language, which he spoke so fluently, as if he'd been raised there his entire life. "Normally, I would probably feel honored to meet you gentlemen today, but allow me to get straight to the point, as time is pressing." The Black General leaned forward slightly, narrowing his eyes. "Who sent you?"

Only silence answered him. One of the prisoners, a boy of about twenty, now looked like he was about to burst into laughter. He was sitting at the very front, his hands tied behind his back. He was dressed in typical overseas attire, likely to avoid arousing suspicion. He was no different from other foreign merchants, of whom there were hundreds in Os Kervo. He had long hair, cut in front so as not to obscure his brown eyes. He had prominent cheekbones and a slim build. If Aleksander had passed him on the street, he likely wouldn't have paid him much attention. Experience had taught the Darkling that inconspicuous individuals like this contemptuous youth often proved to be the most dangerous.

"Is that Queen Leyti?" The Shadow Summoner asked, but again, only silence and a palpable mockery appeared on the young Shu's face.

The Black General suddenly realized something. This small group of arsonists caught red-handed weren't just a collection of sample individuals sent here to carry out a task without proper training or prior instructions. These men had been carefully selected for their mission. Whoever had sent them here, they had acted with calculation. This wasn't a response to the customs duties Aleksander had exacted from the Shu Han merchants. It was a long-planned sabotage, timed to coincide with the actions at the port. The rebellion of foreign buyers suddenly seemed like a smokescreen to the Darkling. And while Nikolai had undoubtedly given them his blessing, it seemed the fool had merely paved the way for someone else to carry out the organized operation. The question was who. That had to be determined, but there was only one way to find out.

These people wouldn’t speak willingly. But if one of them serves as an example, perhaps the others would reconsider their options.

"I ask you one last time," Aleksander said, slowly rubbing his hands together before him, so that shadows began to creep from every corner of the granary. They quickly dimmed the faint glow of the oil lamps illuminating the spacious room, filled to the brim with sacks of grain or ready-made flour. "Who sent you?"

The young Shu, seated at the front, smiled contemptuously, revealing a row of even, white teeth. It was at that moment that the Darkling realized this brazen intruder wouldn't utter a word, even if he tortured him. Still, he had to try. Treason was punishable by death, but it shouldn't be an act of thoughtlessness and cruelty. He should exhaust all other possibilities before committing it.

These were well-trained assassins. No one would claim them, and no one would officially acknowledge them. Their sole purpose was to sow chaos. Holding them as prisoners would bring no tangible benefits to Ravka. However, Aleksander Morozova was never one to act rashly. He had to be certain he had no other choice before he escalated events.

"What you have done is treason against my homeland, and that is punishable by death," the Darkling growled through his teeth in perfect Shu, narrowing his eyes. "Are you aware of this?"

The young captive sitting in the front grinned even wider. He tilted his head back for a moment, then spat The Shadow Summoner right next to his feet. Some of the sputum landed on The Black General's boot, dripping slowly down it and landing on the gritty wooden floor of the granary. This served as the only answer the new Regent of West Ravka needed.

Aleksander had no choice but to put on a small demonstration for the companions of the traitor he was trying to force to speak. Therefore, narrowing his eyes slightly, the Darkling snapped his fingers, and a beam of shadow shot towards the mouth of the arsonist he was interrogating, slicing into his throat. His eyes immediately widened in shock as he began to choke, even though no sound could escape his lips.

“Will you speak?” The Shadow Summoner asked him, withdrawing his shadows for a moment.

Shu glared at him, saliva gathering in his mouth again and spitting on the commander of The Second Army's other shoe.

Aleksander tilted his head slightly to the side, snapping his fingers once more, this time observing the brazen youth's slow agony without any further interruption. Except that the man being interrogated was no ordinary boy his age, but a well-trained assassin. Someone prepared to die if captured by enemy forces and trained to remain silent under threat of death. In Shu Han, traitors had no right to clemency, so when embarking on a sabotage mission outside their own country, they had to consider that they would never return. And if they did take such a risk, a court-martial and public execution awaited them.

After a few seconds, the dark-haired arsonist's body began to convulse. Blood poured from his nose and ears, and his head fell to his chest as he finally stilled.

"He's dead," Ivan commented to his motionless commander. Aleksander stared at the arsonist's corpse, feeling righteous rage heat his blood so much that he could barely contain himself. "Sir!" his Heartrender called after a moment, finally waking the Darkling from his trance. "The other arsonists! Look at their mouths!"

The Shadow Summoner immediately turned his gaze to the other captives. White, frothy foam was flowing from their lips, and a moment later they both froze, staring wide-eyed at the wooden ceiling.

Cyanide, Aleksander thought, clenching his fists in a surge of uncontrollable anger.

"They're dead, sir," Ivan informed him, his voice softer than usual. "Their hearts have stopped, moi Soverenyi. I am sorry."

But the Black General was already considering his options, knowing that time was against him, and therefore he had to play his cards before it was too late. He had one option left, one that always put him in a winning position. If Empress Leyti was responsible, which the Darkling sincerely doubted, then she would never admit to the attack. If someone else was in charge of it, which seemed far more likely, they were waiting for the new Regent of West Ravka to make another move. If Aleksander began to cover up the incident, he would show his enemies that he feared them. What he had to do required a show of force. And even if the ruler of Shu Han demanded an official explanation for what had happened and the deaths of her citizens, she would not take any drastic measures to bring justice, as the assassins had violated the peace treaty and destroyed property worth far more than their lives. But if someone else was responsible for the arson, they would await the Black General's reaction. His passivity would prove the new Regent had something to hide and therefore feared the likely chaos. No. There was only one option – one the Darkling not only wanted but had to pursue.

"Ensure that everyone gathered at the port knows what happened here," Aleksander told Ivan, rising from the wooden crate and once again sweeping his furious gaze over the corpses of the Shu Han arsonists. "Let it be known throughout Os Kervo that I have punished those responsible for the fire. Whoever is in charge of this provocation, they should be given a clear message that we will not bow to persuasion, and those found guilty of any offenses will face appropriate consequences." The Shadow Summoner approached his Heartrender, placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked into his eyes, a living fire burning in his midnight-black irises. "In the meantime, I'll send a letter to Empress Leyti. I doubt it's her, but someone is definitely watching her closely and will be waiting for our move. Let these people see that we have nothing to hide, Ivan. And that if they want to play with us, they should expect to lose."

***

Alina had been bypassing the infirmary since Aleksander had been brought there nearly three weeks ago. She had used to spend a lot of time there, helping David with his work on the antidote, but now she avoided it like the plague. Passing by the disturbingly familiar-looking bed, The Sun Summoner had to fight off a sudden dizziness that almost made her faint. She bit her lower lip, dismissing the flashing images of the Darkling's forehead which had been even paler than usual, and his blood dripping onto the ground, forming a small puddle.

With difficulty, the girl looked away, forcing her feet to continue moving and approaching a secret alcove in the wall through which she, Genya, and David had once escaped The Summer Palace, setting out for The Second Army's camp on the coast. Just before Fedyor activated the hidden door, Alina glanced at her companions, trying to remind each of them of their duties.

"David, guard the entrance, and if anything happens, inform us," she reminded him of their earlier arrangements, to which he nodded, not hiding his nervousness, which, in the case of The Durast, manifested itself by shifting from foot to foot and glancing nervously from side to side. At this point, the future Queen of Ravka turned to face Genya and Fedyor, shifting her gaze from one to the other. "We have very little time, so we must hurry," she said, struggling to contain her own anxiety. She had barely pulled herself together, overwhelmed by memories, when the circumstances demanded her full concentration. "Last time I checked, Aleksander was assessing the recent losses with Ivan. It'll take them at least a few more hours," The Sun Summoner added, meeting the eyes of first The Tailor, then The Heartrender. "However, something could happen in the meantime, so we must take into account the risk of being interrupted." Both Corporalki nodded. "Let's go then," Alina instructed, and Fedyor entered the tunnel in the wall first, making sure no one but Zoya was there.

Their journey through the narrow, low-ceilinged corridor didn't take long. The air was damp, and mold had settled on the walls, giving off a strong musty odor. Several months ago, The Sun Summoner hadn't paid much attention to her surroundings, determined only to escape the palace. This time, she had a little more time to take it all in. The tunnel had clearly been converted into an escape route from the primitive mine shaft that had previously operated here. West Ravka was renowned for its deposits of usable metals, which had been mined here for later processing. When the old pit had been exhausted, they saved the time and effort of building dungeons beneath The Summer Palace by adapting the now-closed mine to meet defensive needs. Traces of the miners' former presence in the underground areas of Os Kervo could still be seen. Old tools littered the walls here and there, as did lumps of unprotected iron ore, gathered in small piles for easier transport. Alina had no idea how old the quarry was. However, she realized it might have developed alongside the port itself, only to be closed when the city's purpose had changed, making it the capital of West Ravka.

And then The Sun Summoner finally saw her. Zoya was standing at the very end of the corridor, dressed in the traveling attire typical of the otkazats’ya. She wore a thin hood, despite the unforgiving heat outside today. Her dark hair spilled out in thick waves, falling unruly over her shoulders. The Squaller also wore navy blue trousers that hugged her shapely figure, presumably to make traveling easier.

Alina's hand casually flicked towards her kefta, beneath which, in addition to a simple dark dress, the future queen of Ravka had donned a corset. The wire structure was pressing uncomfortably against her belly, but she didn't want Zoya to know she was expecting a child. Nazyalensky wasn't someone she could trust even remotely. Until her intentions were verified, The Sun Summoner wouldn't reveal any information, even the most insignificant. And even then, before making any decisions, she would first consult with Aleksander. And his opinion on the matter was easily predictable.

"Have you checked her?" Alina whispered under her breath, directing the question at Fedyor.

He nodded, keeping his eyes on Zoya, who was getting closer and closer, staying motionless at the end of the tunnel.

"She's alone," The Heartrender said quietly, and the future queen of Ravka felt an unspoken sense of relief.

Although The Sun Summoner had carefully prepared for this encounter, she still preferred to avoid even the slightest risk. Some Corporalki were cutting off The Squaller's potential escape route, so Nazyalensky was unlikely to attempt any tricks. But this couldn't be taken for granted. Zoya had proven many times that she could deliver a backstab from complete surprise, and although Aleksander wouldn't let her get away with it, Alina didn't want to risk it.

"Starkov," The Squaller greeted her as the future queen of Ravka faced her. "I see you bring your loyal followers with you everywhere." The dark-haired Etherealki woman was referring to Genya and Fedyor. "But if we are to speak, we must do so privately," she told her, removing her hands from the pockets of her traveling cloak so that her interlocutor could see that she wasn't planning to attack her. It was her attention that focused on The Tailor for the moment. "Thank you for your help, Genya. I must admit, I'm surprised you didn't betray me," she stated with her usual superiority.

Alina glanced at her red-haired friend, who was standing completely unfazed by her side. Genya remained silent, and that spoke volumes. She distrusted The Squaller as much as anyone else here.

"So what?" Nazyalensky made eye contact with The Sun Summoner again, her gaze trailing along her figure. The girl was glad she'd donned the corset, as Zoya was clearly searching for any changes in her appearance or signs of weakness. "Will you dismiss your cultists?" she asked again. "These are not matters for their ears. I will speak with you in private, or not at all."

Alina's insides literally boiled. Did The Squaller really think she could dictate terms to her? On the other hand, time was ticking away, and the risk of The Black General raising an alarm at The Summer Palace was increasing with each passing minute.

"We'll leave," Genya said suddenly, causing The Sun Summoner to glance at her and Fedyor.

He nodded back, suggesting he didn't mind.

"She's clean, Alina," he assured her. "We'll stand a little further away and keep an eye on you. Of course, if you agree, because the decision is yours alone."

The future queen of Ravka frowned at this. She didn't want her friends to feel left out, but then again, she was in no danger here. Alina could defend herself perfectly well and had already proven several times that Zoya posed no significant challenge to her. Besides, after news of the destruction of the void had spread throughout the land, the belief in how powerful Grisha the Sun Saint was had become even stronger in the Ravkan public consciousness than when The Sun Summoner had ended the existence of The Shadow Fold.

"So?" Zoya urged them, glancing back. Four Heartrenders, previously dispatched by Fedyor, were standing at the city entrance hidden in the solid rock, watching the entire confrontation from afar. "I risked much coming here, so would you please hurry?"

The future queen of Ravka seethed again, but finally nodded to her friends. The Squaller wasn't wrong. They were both at risk now, especially Alina, who was exposing her loved ones to the Darkling's wrath. Of course, Aleksander wouldn't harm them, but despite his hatred for Nazyalensky, The Sun Summoner didn't want her dead anyway. And in this case, there was the risk that The Black General would kill Zoya before anyone could defend her.

So Genya and Fedyor moved a little further away from the two Etherealki, but still at a distance that allowed them to easily follow the conversation. Although they couldn't hear anything from there, they could see everything, and if The Squaller tried any tricks, Fedyor would signal his men to deal with her.

"We are alone," the future queen of Ravka finally said, her tone as cold as ice, holding out her hands in a silent threat. "You can tell me what important state matter brought you all the way from the capital."

Zoya looked at her for a moment with obvious disgust, which she was clearly trying to suppress. This told The Sun Summoner that she had been right in her earlier suspicions and that the dark-haired Etherealki had some secret agenda in meeting her. Otherwise, The Squaller wouldn't be doing something that contradicted her beliefs and her delusions of grandeur, which were hurting her ego, as compared to her eternal rival, Nazyalensky paled in this comparison.

"How is your General?" Zoya blurted out, causing Alina to narrow her eyes.

Really? Was that why she had brought her here? To talk about Aleksander?

Seeing that her interlocutor had no response, the dark-haired Etherealki decided to continue her statement.

"The thing is, rumors are circulating in East Ravka that the Darkling barely escaped a battle on the southern border with his life. And to address the issue I wish to discuss with you, your General must be in best shape." Nazyalensky spoke not out of concern or respect, but solely out of the need that had driven her to this meeting. "And I can assure you, your beloved will not be thrilled with what Nikolai is planning."

The Sun Summoner felt her heart begin to beat a little faster.

"You were supposed to be pressed for time, and now you're talking in terms of words," Alina urged her interlocutor. "If you don't get specific, we'll have to part ways. So what will your decision be?" The future Queen of Ravka's eyes narrowed into two thin slits.

Zoya was literally boiling inside. One didn't have to know her well to see she was struggling to control herself.

"I want you to help me break Nikolai's engagement to Princess Ehri," The Squaller finally said through her teeth, looking The Sun Summoner straight in the eye.

Alina wanted to openly laugh in her face. Was this a matter of state? The wounded pride of the king's concubine?

Nazyalensky saw that her interlocutor wasn't taking her seriously. That's why she narrowed her eyes dangerously, as if she wanted to warn her rival about something one last time.

"Are you finding this amusing, Starkov?" she mocked her, drawing each word out through her teeth. "And did you know that, along with our dear king's new fiancée, Shu Han troops have been brought to East Ravka?" she asked, waiting for The Sun Summoner to react to this information.

Alina paled absently, though she carefully controlled herself.

"What?" she asked in an emotionless voice, even though the news had truly shocked her.

The dark-haired Etherealki woman looked as if she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

"Well, the infallible Sun Saint seems to have finally started listening," Nazyalensky sneered at her interlocutor, but soon grew visibly serious. "For the tax breaks Nikolai introduced on goods purchased by our southern neighbors, he was promised support in the form of soldiers to bolster the ranks of The First Army after your General took most of The Second Army from us. This is all thanks to Nikolai's planned marriage to Ehri. Supposedly, this is meant to be a testament to the desire to maintain peace and the long-standing alliance between Shu Han and Ravka."

The Sun Summoner felt her knees buckle. Her head suddenly felt dizzy from the gravity of this information. Their Tsar was inviting their enemies to his side, making their homeland increasingly dependent on a foreign power. Alina didn't need to be a political genius to realize this. As soon as Aleksander learned of this, he would undoubtedly fly into a rage. And that could have two consequences. Depending on how matters related to the armament unfolded, the Darkling would have to keep his finger on the pulse.

Suddenly, the girl realized she might not have wasted her time coming to the meeting with Nazyalensky. The Black General was unlikely to listen to her. Meanwhile, this information threatened the security of the entire country. Ignoring it would be utterly irresponsible and idiotic.

"Will you tell Morozova about this?" Zoya asked after a moment, bringing Alina back to earth. Since being appointed Regent of West Ravka, Aleksander had been openly using his family name. He didn't have to fabricate his deaths or constantly find false identities. And hearing this from others proved to be a surprisingly pleasant experience for The Sun Summoner. "I have to go now," the dark-haired Squaller urged her. "Just answer me, will you tell him or not?"

Alina stared at her for a long moment. Then she simply nodded, turning to her friends and starting to walk towards them. Halfway there, she called over her shoulder, "I'll take care of it. Goodbye, Nazyalensky."

Returning to the living quarters of the palace, the future Queen of Ravka was shaking. Moments like these revealed how much her health had deteriorated over the past few weeks. The girl practically dragged her feet, now burdened by the information Zoya had given her. The Squaller wasn't concerned with the fate of the Ravkans, or even the potential occupation. She was only concerned with reclaiming Nikolai, or at least getting revenge on him for humiliating her. But the dark-haired Etherealki woman was right about one thing – this was indeed something The Black General must have known. His spies would likely report it to him soon, but knowing her former fiancé, The Sun Summoner suspected Lantsov would proceed very discreetly. Perhaps he would even lead a Shu Han army into Ravka under the pretext of escorting their princess. And then he would expand this project until the Ravkans in The First Army became a minority.

Alina gripped the doorknob of her chamber, bidding farewell to the oprichniki escorting her from the infirmary.

The girl had to take several deep breaths, suddenly feeling very faint. Only then did she enter the room, which was comfortably dim. However, it turned out the chamber wasn't empty at all.

Sitting on the edge of the bed was none other than Aleksander, who stared at her with eyes filled with a hundred different emotions before finally saying, "I was looking for you in the library, milaya," he told her in an uncharacteristically hushed voice, causing Alina's heart to leap from her chest. "But I didn't find you there. Apparently, you went to the infirmary with Genya," The Shadow Summoner added, his eyes gleaming with barely suppressed concern. "Is there something you're not telling me, Alya?"

***

Aleksander Morozova counted each passing second, barely convincing himself he should wait a little longer. That whatever Alina was doing now in the palace infirmary didn't necessarily mean anything bad. Perhaps The Tailor wanted to examine her a little more closely. Probably they both looked for discretion, because his solnishka's altered condition was slowly becoming visible to the naked eye, and although his Sun Summoner had lost some weight, her belly was beginning to round out slightly. Just three weeks ago, it would have been impossible to tell. Now, however, Alina had become somewhat petite and delicate, though the dresses she wore were loose at the waist. Aleksander's heart shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces as he watched his precious girl try to pretend nothing was wrong with her. Meanwhile, looking at her when she herself thought he hadn't seen her, the Darkling could see her pale forehead, her quickened breaths, and the occasional furtive grit of her teeth. The Black General, however, had no illusions that his Sun Summoner would tell him the truth. Alina had made it a point of honor to protect him from any suffering, and even if forced to be honest, she would undoubtedly remain silent.

So Aleksander went to the library during his little break between reading reports, wanting to check if his solnishka was still immersed in her new favorite pastime, which seemed to bring her relative solace now that The Black General had even less time for her than before. In the future, the Darkling planned to allow her to work alongside him. There was no better way for his Sun Summoner to learn about Ravka's problems than by examining them from the inside. But that wasn't an option right now. For now, her health and their growing family were the new Regent's absolute priority. After all, they had all eternity to work things out. Their children, however, would only be small for a short time. And it was then that they would most need their mother's love and attention, something Aleksander himself had never received from Baghra and something he had struggled with until now.

The Black General, however, didn't find Alina in the library. His guards informed him that his precious girl had gone to the infirmary with Genya. The Shadow Summoner stood in the middle of the corridor, hesitating on what to do next. On the one hand, he needed to make sure nothing bad had happened to her, but on the other, he respected his solnishka's need for privacy, which he, as a man, should not interfere with.

With all his willpower, he returned to their chamber, where he resolved to wait until Alina finally arrived. And now, when she did, something tightened painfully in Aleksander Morozova's chest, as he noticed how tired and emotionally unstable his Sun Summoner seemed to him.

"I was looking for you in the library, milaya," he stated as soon as their eyes met. The Black General felt even more uneasy when he noticed how pale his precious girl now looked. "But I didn't find you there. Apparently, you went with Genya to the infirmary," The Shadow Summoner added, frowning slightly at the sight of his suddenly somewhat stiff solnishka. "Is there something you're not telling me, Alya?" he asked, seeing her struggling to regain her composure.

His Sun Summoner came to him wordlessly, leaning over him and cupping his cheeks in her hands to place a short kiss on his lips. Aleksander casually closed his eyes, but when he opened them, he realized that Alina had already approached the chair standing in front of the mirror and began removing her black and gold kefta. As soon as she did, her white hair broke free from the loose bun at her nape, spilling in long, lustrous cascades down her back. The first garment was followed by a simple black dress, which his Sun Summoner pulled over her head. And now his precious girl was wearing only her dark undergarments, consisting of black pantaloons and a tightly laced black corset that clung tightly to her figure.

The Black General's blood immediately boiled as he watched the only woman he desired, acting so naturally in his presence. Alina went to the dressing table and reached for a comb lying there. She ran it through her thick hair several times, making it appear even snowier and shinier. Then she turned to the Darkling, who decided not to disturb her for now, instead feasting his eyes on her. Alina pushed her long curls to one side, exposing her corseted back.

"Can you help me untie this, Sasha?" she asked him, and he felt an uncontrollable lust slowly taking over him.

Aleksander knew that if he even touched his Sun Summoner, he would have great difficulty controlling himself. Still, he had to help her, and the mere thought of her silky skin was enough to momentarily soothe his frayed nerves.

The Black General rose from the bed, slowly approaching his precious girl, who was still standing in front of the mirror, her hair pulled back over one shoulder. He leaned down to the nape of her neck for a moment to plant a slow, lingering kiss there. Alina trembled barely perceptibly under his caress, sending his blood boiling again. The Darkling, however, maintained his composure. His fingers found the first string in her corset, tugging it gently.

But then Aleksander frowned, realizing something.

"Milaya," he said, his hands still. "Are you sure you should be wearing these things now?" he asked, and though his eyes continued to feast on her, he was apprehensive about how tightly her black corset hugged her waist.

His Sun Summoner turned to him without warning, smiling at him from the corner of her mouth for the first time since she'd returned from the infirmary.

"What, you don't like it?" she asked, looking him straight in the eye and making his blood sing to her, just like it did every time they were together.

"I'll gladly show you if I like it, Alya," he replied, leaning towards her ear to blow hot air on it. "But not before you explain it to me." With that, he slowly pulled away from her, making his precious girl shiver slightly.

But then she reluctantly turned away from him, pushing her hair back over her left shoulder.

"I wore the corset on purpose, Sasha," his Sun Summoner told him after a moment, as his fingers returned to unlacing her underwear. "So that no one would guess I was expecting our children."

The last words hit Aleksander like a blast of cold air. Fortunately, he had finished helping Alina with her corset, because otherwise he wouldn't have been able to focus on it any longer, since his solnishka had confessed something like that, completely surprising him. The Darkling realized his precious girl might have wanted to avoid unnecessary gossip, but she couldn't hide it forever. Besides, even though he didn't want to admit it, it had hurt his pride a little. At moments like this, his distrust returned, and he wondered if someday, perhaps in a few centuries, he would finally overcome it.

Alina saw his sudden change of heart, and her expression became noticeably serious. She took his elbow, leading him slowly toward the bed, on the edge of which they both sat. Only then did she reach for his hands, then sighed deeply. The Black General frowned, watching as his Sun Summoner released his hands and reached for his shoulders to begin taking off his kefta. He merely watched her as his solnishka placed his general's cloak aside on the bed, only then looking him straight in the eye.

"What are you doing, Alya?" the Darkling asked her with growing suspicion.

Although Alina looked as if she regretted something, her black eyes were radiating a confidence that told the new Regent of West Ravka that she wouldn't back down.

"I want to speak with my Aleksander, not General Morozova," his precious girl replied calmly, reaching for his hands again.

The Shadow Summoner's frown deepened.

"Why?" he asked her, his anxiety beginning to take over his consciousness, which the Darkling absolutely disliked.

Alina didn't break their eye contact.

"Because what I'm about to say is meant for you, Sasha. And I don't want your work to interfere with that," she confessed, her voice hushed, now more of a whisper. Aleksander still felt himself teetering on the brink of madness, but he did everything in his power to control it. "I just came back from meeting with Zoya. That's why I went to the infirmary," she replied, holding his gaze.

The Black General felt his blood boil. And not for the same reason as before, but for Alina's confession, which was something he hadn't expected even in his worst nightmares.

"What?" His voice held a mixture of emotions, none of them positive. If anyone other than his solnishka had told him this, they might have expected his righteous fury. But the Darkling would never have raised a hand against his Sun Summoner. Instead, he repressed his emotions deep within himself, letting them consume him from within.

"Sasha…" his precious girl began, but he retreated into his own world for a moment, already planning to hunt Zoya down and make her pay for her insolence.

"I will kill her…" The Black General ground out through his teeth, finding solace in his own anger.

Hearing this, Alina released his hands and reached for his face, cupping his cheeks and turning his head toward her.

"Sasha," she told him, trying to get him to look her in the eye, which he finally did, even though he was still clenching his teeth, trying to calm himself. “Killing isn’t always the only answer,” she whispered, but a deep frown remained on his brow.

“Not when it comes to that brazen traitor,” the Darkling hissed, wondering what had driven The Squaller to take such a risk.

His Sun Summoner was still holding his cheeks. She gazed at him with determination and tenderness, until he finally felt his rage begin to recede.

“Aleksander, please answer me one question,” she asked, reaching a hand to his forehead to brush away a loose strand of hair. He closed his eyes, trying to surrender to the wave of calm slowly washing over him. “Would you want our children to think that killing someone is the only option?” she asked quietly, and he felt a chill run down his spine.

Suddenly, Aleksander found himself slogging through knee-deep snow, frostbitten by the cold wind, and trying to shield his face from the gusts of icy air that was seeping into his thin sheepskin coat. The journey became increasingly arduous the closer they got to the Fjerdan border. This year's winter had been exceptionally cold, making his and his mother's struggle for survival more difficult than any time before, when they had had to hunt rabbits or dig up edible roots from under the snow to satisfy their hunger. The dense fir forest seemed to stretch on forever. His mother kept repeating that they had to find shelter by nightfall, or they would freeze to death.

"Hurry, boy," his parent urged him, paving a path for them both through the thick snow.

Like Aleksander, Baghra wore animal skins and had additionally wrapped her feet in fox fur to prevent them from freezing as she was sinking her feet repeatedly into the icy powder that was falling steadily from the sky, seemingly with no intention of stopping.

The boy stumbled again and almost fell facedown in the snow. He was growing weaker and weaker, and his thirst was overwhelming. Aleksander had learned to fight hunger, but the lack of water in his mouth sapped the last of the energy that still smoldered in his frail body, likely fueled by the strength of his indomitable will.

Baghra urged him to walk faster again. Dusk was slowly falling all around, and the lack of shelter meant imminent death. However, there were very few human settlements along the Fjerdan border. The Ravkans were reluctant to settle here, fearing their possessions would be stolen and their homes plundered.

The boy barely shuffled, shielding his face from the icy wind. Suddenly, his mother stopped abruptly, causing her son to collide headfirst with her leather-clad back.

"Look there, boy," Baghra ordered him, and as always, he did as she told him.

Just before their eyes stretched a forest clearing with a small hunting hut, grey smoke rising from its chimney. His mother glanced around, assessing their options. She saw no livestock, and there was no firelight from the windows to indicate anyone was inside. The villagers had clearly gone hunting, and the dark fumes rising were from the dying fire.

His mother turned sharply toward Aleksander, narrowing her eyes at him.

"We'll stop there and look for food. Hunters live here, which means they might have some dried meat. Follow me and don't stop. We have to hurry and see if we can wait out this snowstorm there and maybe even get some sleep," Baghra ordered him, setting off again.

They traveled for a few more minutes until they finally reached a primitive farmstead. Aleksander glanced around but saw neither dogs nor people who should have sought shelter here in such weather. The hut had a thatched roof and was made entirely of pine. The windows were small and also covered with brushwood woven with linen ropes. Smoke still was rising from the stone chimney, but it was dwindling and almost completely dissipating in the winter air. Near the farmstead was a well. The boy almost cried at the thought of water, praying only that it wouldn't freeze.

Baghra waited for him outside the door, carefully tugging on it and peering inside. Aleksander watched her carefully for a reaction, waiting for a sign that they were safe. His mother nodded to him quickly and then entered the primitive dwelling. Her son shuffled after her, feeling his strength waning. Inside the hut, there was a table, a bed made of animal skins on the ground, and a simple hearth with brass vessels arranged around it. Salted meat was drying near the ceiling, the sight of which almost made both he and Baghra cry with joy, as if in awe of their good fortune.

His mother began pulling long pieces of bacon from iron hooks, handing them to her son to place them on the table. Then she began rummaging through the entire hut, pulling out a wooden bucket sealed with tar from one corner. Glancing briefly at its tightness, she grabbed it by the thin handle, intending to head for the door.

Before stepping outside, she turned back to Aleksander, her raven-black hair spilling out from under her sable cap, obscuring her eyes.

"Wait here for me and look for a knife," she instructed him, narrowing her eyes at him. "I'm just going to check if the well water has frozen, and when I return, I want to see the meat cut up. Do you understand it, boy?" she asked, waiting for her son to nod. "There must also be some flint somewhere. Maybe if you look under the skins, you'll find it. We could warm up a bit, as there's plenty of kindling here. Take care of that, and I'll be back soon," Baghra added, then walked out into the snowstorm, slamming the door behind her.

Aleksander immediately set about carrying out her instructions. It was indeed as his mother had said, and beneath the layer of skins lying on the floor were tinder and a tinderbox. Carefully feeling the ground with his frostbitten hand, the boy also found a hunting knife hidden in a small wooden chest. Satisfied, he rose from his crouch and approached the table, intending to carve the salted meat he had pulled from the hooks.

And then Baghra's scream echoed through the air from outside. Aleksander felt a terror so intense that he himself couldn't contain it, instantly freezing his blood, reminding him of all his mother's teachings reserved for such occasions. Memories of recent events flooded his mind, reminding him of his own struggle for life. Annika's betrayal returned to him in nightmares. His mother told him to be tough and finally grow up, but the boy couldn't forget it. Although he knew he had no other choice, sometimes it seemed to him that his hands were still stained with the blood of the person he considered his friend. Baghra had become even less talkative towards him, almost as if she wanted her unfortunate son to understand something. But Aleksander still thought about it.

And now his mother was screaming his name, and though paralyzing fear had frozen his feet to the ground, the boy acted on instinct and lunged for the door, clutching his hunting knife. Baghra was a few meters away, and beside her lay an abandoned bucket in the snow. Behind her was standing a tall man, twisting her arms behind her back, a bone blade pressed against her throat. Every so often, the man jerked his mother's body, seemingly trying to bring her to her knees. He was young, but he had a thick beard and was dressed from head to toe in wolf skin. And now he was staring into Aleksander's eyes with undisguised hatred.

"Is that your pup, you bitch?" the hunter growled in Baghra's ear, pulling her head back by her hair. "I wonder if you've taught him not to touch other people's property. Have you or have you not, you bitch?" he spat on her cheek in disgust, still twisting her hands behind her back.

And then his mother screamed at him with all her might.

"Make a cut, boy! Do it, do you hear?" she commanded, though her voice was throaty as she struggled to breathe. "You did it that time, by the lake! The cut, Aleksander, or we'll all die here!"

Baghra's use of his real name meant that the situation was critical and there was no point in keeping up appearances, because someone would definitely not get out of here alive.

The boy felt tears welling up beneath his eyelids. Rage and fear took over completely, forcing him to place his hands in front of him, just as his mother had shown him so many times before. Shadows immediately flowed obediently into his fingers, forming a shadow blade. Aleksander screamed with all his might and sent the cut flying almost blindly.

And then something heavy fell to the ground with a dull thud. Through the tears obscuring his vision, the boy saw his mother, now free, coughing heavily, with her hands resting on her knees. Right next to her lay a tall, dead man, whose head had just been severed by something very powerful and sharp. And there was no denying who was responsible for his state.

"Sasha," Alina said to him, bringing him back to reality and making him open his eyes again to look at her. "I'll tell you everything, but only if you calm down," she stated, brushing his hair back from his forehead in a tender gesture. "So what will it be?"

Aleksander closed his eyes again for a moment, but this time opened them of his own volition. And when he did, he was surprisingly much calmer.

"And that's why I went there alone," Alina added soon, seeing that he was still silent.

The Darkling finally reluctantly agreed, frowning slightly. His Sun Summoner's fingertips immediately began smoothing that frown, driven by the natural need for their closeness.

"What did she want?" The Black General finally spoke up, referring to Zoya. "What is this traitor up to?" he demanded.

Alina didn't hesitate any longer. She hurried to answer his question, knowing they had just survived another test of their relationship and emerged unscathed.

"She sought our help in getting rid of Ehri," she explained, and The Shadow Summoner nearly burst out laughing.

Zoya Nazyalensky seemed desperate, thinking she'd find allies among those she'd betrayed. The Darkling could overlook many things, but not the fact that, because of her, The Second Army had practically been shattered. And in such a short time. Something built over years had almost crumbled to dust in a matter of months. Moreover, The Squaller switched sides whenever it suited her. But something else was fascinating here – precisely, her ignorance of her own transgressions and her belief that The Black General would make deals with traitors. Because in her case, this wasn't due to the lies and manipulations experienced by, for example, Alina. It was due to an innate desire to reach the top, driving her to destroy everything else in her path. When she had failed with the Darkling, the dark-haired Etherealki had chosen the second-best option. And now it, too, had slipped through her fingers. But only a fool would ignore that.

"I won't do this," Aleksander finally replied, narrowing his eyes slightly.

His Sun Summoner nodded as well.

"That's what I told her," she stated, sliding her hand to his cheek again. "But Sasha, this meeting wasn't as pointless as I thought."

The Black General frowned at this.

"I'm sure your spies are keeping an eye on things," Alina continued. "But apparently Nikolai is starting to bring troops from Shu Han to Os Alta to reinforce The First Army. Apparently, he had no other choice after most of The Second Army followed you to West Ravka. Hence the tax breaks, Sasha." Concern was etched on his precious girl's face. "The excuse is to strengthen the relations between our countries in connection with his planned wedding to Princess Ehri."

The Darkling clenched both hands into fists, literally boiling inside. This puppy was starting to get on his nerves more and more. This wasn't a slight on his part anymore, but a cataclysm approaching too quickly. Lantsov Puppy was either clearly acting like a fool, determined to cling to power, or he was a traitor, willing to trade Ravka's independence for a questionable alliance. Regardless of the reason, The Shadow Summoner would certainly not let him get away with it. While he couldn't declare open war on their neighbors, if conflict arose, The Black General would be guided solely by the good of his country, regardless of what happened to Nikolai.

"That scum…" the Darkling gritted through his teeth, but Alina immediately sensed his returning fury as she gently turned his face toward her again.

"Am I speaking to my Aleksander now, or to General Morozova?" she asked, looking him straight in the eye. The Shadow Summoner squeezed his eyes shut, letting his self-control return with each leisurely breath. His precious girl didn't wait for his answer, adding, "Sasha, you can go back to being general in one hour. You told me you went looking for me in the library, so you probably wanted to spend some time with me, right? That's why I'm asking you. For the next hour, just be my Aleksander..."

The Darkling still didn't lift his eyes, but he realized Alina had removed her hands from his cheeks. After a moment, he felt someone sit on his lap. It was clearly a deliberate action on her part. His Sun Summoner could see how furious The Black General was now and tried to restore some calm to him. In one way he himself probably couldn't resist.

Aleksander finally opened his eyes, seeing her face slightly above his own. Her unlaced corset barely clung to her petite frame, and her loose hair tickled his neck gently. Then she leaned down and kissed him gently. Not insistently or with excessive zeal, but tenderly and slowly, as if showing him they didn't need to rush.

The Darkling resisted for a moment, but deep down, he needed it too. He wanted to release the emotions that were literally boiling inside him. And indeed, The Black General truly desired to see his solnishka, so he might as well spend this short time as she proposed.

"I don't have much time, milaya," he warned her, however, when their lips briefly parted.

Alina, however, didn't break their eye contact, and her hands reached for his chest, beginning to unbutton his shirt painfully slowly. All the rage the Darkling had felt until then gradually transformed into an increasingly intense and uncontrollable lust. His gaze was following the movements of her hands, allowing their physicality to come to the fore and giving the tension the only release he needed.

"It won't take long..." his precious girl promised him, then she very gently pushed his bare torso onto the bed, never leaving his side. And then Alina slipped off her corset, letting it slide down the curves of her body, revealing her porcelain skin in its entirety. "…I promise," she whispered, leaning down to kiss Aleksander full on the lips once more, this time with much more passion than before.

Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:

Notes:

Hello loved ones 🖤🌺
My dear beta, Ola, wants me to continue the scene from the very end of this chapter in the next chapter, so I will do it in very beginning of chapter 3. You may guess what it would be 😚
Like I did it here, I will add more scenes from the past containing Aleksander (on many stages of his immortal life).
I'm curious of your thoughts about some people we didn't like in previous part of my story - do they deserve a justice?
Also Aleksander is more and more pissed... and when he is, he becomes dangerous 😈
This is just the beginning of our journey - my Ola doesn't want me to stop writing, so I think a long way is before us.
Happy new week, love you all,
Ewa 🖤🌺

Chapter 5: The man who had to pay a debt of past

Summary:

Aleksander knew it was a play on the facade. He raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the back of his chair and intertwining his fingers across his lower abdomen.
“Are you sure that’s why you came to see me, Genya?” he asked her, his gaze sliding up and down her figure.
The Tailor paled slightly, but skillfully kept up the facade.
“No,” she confessed after a moment, lifting her chin proudly despite her obvious fear of what was about to happen. “I know you’ll probably punish me, moi Soverenyi, but it had to be done.” The redhead took a deep breath, then reached into the pocket of her red kefta. She pulled out a folded piece of paper, then held it out to her commander. "Zoya left me the contact information for the person she was staying with. It's supposedly a distant relative, to whose address I sent the letter arranging a meeting between her and Alina in the palace tunnel."
Aleksander narrowed his eyes, though he already knew this. Hearing it from The Tailor's lips, however, carried a significance related to her loyalty. And so the Darkling decided to let her speak.

Notes:

❗❗THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS THE ADULT SCENE AND CHILD ABUSE❗❗
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Ch3

--PROMO EDIT FOR THIS CHAPTER--

❗❗THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS THE ADULT SCENE AND CHILD ABUSE❗❗

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For Aleksander Morozova, there was no better incentive than to challenge him. Although Alina had done it seemingly unconsciously, something told him that his Sun Summoner knew him well enough to realize that he himself wouldn't resist the urge to prove to her that she didn't know everything about him yet. That he could still surprise her, as one of his innate traits was ambition, which applied to all areas of his life, including his physicality.

And yet, his precious girl hadn't yet explored the full potential of The Black General, and he wasn't about to reveal all his cards to her. Although they were equals, the Darkling could share his experience with her, which, if served with moderation, could not only surprise her even more, but open the door leading to a true pleasure. Besides, they had all eternity to learn each other’s desires and the way to fulfill them. No one rushed them, thus guaranteeing that even when the world ended, they would never fall into a rut.

"It won't take long..." Alina told him, then very gently pushed his bare torso onto the bed, never leaving his side. And then she slipped off her corset, letting it slide down the curves of her body, revealing her porcelain skin in its entirety. "…I promise," she whispered, leaning down to kiss Aleksander fully on his lips.

Her intentions became more than clear to him. Whether she wanted to let him forget everything for a moment, or if the need had pushed her to initiate their intimacy, it was undoubtedly about control. His Sun Summoner knew that the Darkling had more experience in this area than she did, so she enjoyed testing his patience and pushing the limits of his power ever further towards her. Because his precious girl knew one thing – that Aleksander Morozova would never relinquish his right to always be in charge. Submission was not in his nature, and even Alina would fail to subjugate him. They could be equals, yes. Except that it was thanks to his control that the Grisha still hadn't become a relic of the past. And in their relationship, too, he would be the one to care for their family. He would be the one to protect them, because that was what he had been born to do. Therefore, no one would take away the part of him that made The Black General who he truly was. Control flowed through his bloodstream as much as his life force.

But sometimes, in brief moments like this, Aleksander allowed Alina to revel in the thrilling power he had granted her. Only she was allowed to dominate the Darkling. And he had to admit, that too brought him ecstasy, even if it was against his will. Because it was like tasting something taboo, like pushing boundaries. And that forbidden fruit tasted delicious.

His Sun Summoner finally pulled away from his mouth, straddling him and wrapping her thighs tightly around him. Her hair spilled out in all directions, partially obscuring her full breasts. Although Alina had visibly lost weight, her body was slowly preparing for her future motherhood. Even her always-flat stomach had already rounded a bit, and the thought that his precious girl had carried his unborn children there for some reason heated Aleksander's blood, casually reminding him of who his solnishka belonged to.

And then his Sun Summoner placed her hands flat on his chest, slowly running them across his bare torso. Her hands traced hot trails across his skin, intensifying his physical sensations. The Black General wanted to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her closer again, but Alina quickly reacted, grabbing his wrists and resting his arms on the bed.

"Not yet," she said, smiling faintly and looking him straight in the eye. “Let’s wait and see how long you can resist the urge to touch me?” An inner fire ignited in his precious girl’s black irises, as she challenged Aleksander, knowing he wouldn’t resist the urge to prove himself to her.

The skin on the Darkling’s wrists heated, as if his Sun Summoner’s touch electrified them. His body practically screamed for getting back the control, but the temptation to see where it would take them became so strong that he decided to hold back. If only for a moment. Because besides lust, the pleasant adrenaline rush of seeing just how far Alina was willing to go was worth losing of being in charge, even for a moment. Moreover, regaining it later would give the Darkling even more satisfaction.

“I’ll let go of your hands, Sasha, as long as you keep them still,” his solnishka whispered, her eyes slightly clouded. Apparently, The Black General wasn’t the only one excited by this game. “So… will you trust me?” she asked, rubbing her buttocks against his, as if by accident, but really to see the effect she was having on him.

The Shadow Summoner didn't answer her, but the way his gaze slowly moved along her half-naked figure might have served as the best answer for his precious girl.

Alina also realized where Aleksander was now looking. His gaze fell on the lower part of the underwear his solnishka was still wearing, involuntarily stripping her of it with the force of his will. This made her eyes shine even brighter. The bit of power clearly intoxicated her, and the fact that it affected them both caused the Darkling to harden even more beneath her, which she must have felt, because she seemed to accidentally brush her buttocks against him again.

"Oh..." she said, her voice heavy and sweet as melted honey. "I see we don't have to work on other things much, but what about your trust, Sasha?"

The Black General's gaze now moved from the drawstring of her pantaloons to her bare, beautifully rounded breasts. Meanwhile, the rest of the blood had seeped down his body, causing his pants to become painfully tight. Too painful for the restraint of his desire not to eventually become a sweet, unbearable torture.

Without waiting for an answer, his precious girl finally released his wrists. Without breaking their eye contact, she slid a little lower down his thighs, simultaneously sliding her hot, slightly damp palms slowly down his skin. The Darkling's hands itched again as he yearned to touch her, but watching Alina, when she thought she had power over him, somehow drove him mad, like a risky game in which his Sun Summoner thought she was imposing her rules on him, but in reality, she was only receiving as much freedom from The Black General as he allowed her.

"Oh... you are behaving well, Sasha," his solnishka told him, lifting her buttocks slightly and slipping off her pantaloons. A moment later, she flung them aside, no longer wearing any clothing. Aleksander barely suppressed the moan that threatened to escape his lips. But that would mean a complete loss of control – and that control, though dangerously loose, should ultimately belong to no one but him. "Well," his Sun Summoner's hands began to pull the belt from the loops of his pants, finally sliding them down to his knees in a swift movement. "Let's see if I can somehow reward your trust, Sasha." With that, Alina moved upward again, slowly lowering her hips and filling herself with his pulsating manhood.

As she did so, she involuntarily squeezed her eyes shut in pleasure, tilting her head back slightly. Aleksander felt the tight wetness enveloping him. This time, it was she who moaned, her hands positioning themselves just below his ribs for reassurance.

"Let me take care of you…" his solnishka finally said, finally moving against him. "But no touching… daddy," she mumbled, making eye contact with The Black General again. “I'm your good girl now and all you can do is to allow yourself to relax.”

For some reason, that word, falling from Alina's lips, drove Aleksander Morozova to the brink of madness. His Sun Summoner had sometimes called him "old man," but she did it affectionately. But this... this was a completely new experience. Although she seemed to be taking the initiative now, she was actually showing which of them had more experience in this relationship. And though the Darkling hadn't expected it at all, it had worked better on him than an aphrodisiac.

And then he made a decision. In the end, he wouldn't be the one who lost control. Because the final say would be his, so let Alina enjoy the apparent power she had over him in that moment. And he would show her how easily restoring balance between them would be. Because Aleksander Morozova wasn't a young boy who couldn't contain his lust, if the reward awaiting him at the end for his restraint was worth a little suffering. And when a right time came, his Sun Summoner would beg him for mercy. Because she would have to earn it a bit to be his good girl.

"Ohhh, Saints," Alina breathed after a moment, biting her lower lip and picking up the pace a bit. The Black General also had to grit his teeth to control his body and not allow himself to cross the line of no return. "You're doing well, daddy. So well..."

The Darkling gritted his teeth even harder, as her halting words had a dangerous effect on him. It didn't help that Alina grew even wetter, driving The Shadow Summoner to the brink of madness.

His precious girl almost unconsciously glanced at his hands, which were clenched tightly on the sheets, to see if he was doing what she has asked him to. The awareness of her apparent power over him clearly had a stimulating effect on her, as the movements of her hips became more instinctive and a bit more uncontrolled.

"I can't believe you're controlling yourself, Sasha," she moaned, her body wracked with spasms of pleasure. Her skin glowed, which could only mean one thing: Alina had just reached her peak. "Oh, Saints..." his Little Saint practically screamed it, then dug her nails into his stomach, finally reaching climax, and almost causing Aleksander to do the same. It didn't help that her wet stickiness enveloped him even tighter, seeking the friction he craved. "Sasha, you have no mercy," his sweetheart gasped through her teeth, then carefully climbed off him, lying down on the pillow beside him.

Her hair was damp, and her breathing was still ragged. Her hand involuntarily flew to The Black General's chest, to place it here.

So Alina was giving him control? Perfect, because now it was time to restore the balance between them, as it should be.

"Now my turn," Aleksander told his Sun Summoner, grabbing her wrist in her outstretched arm. "You said you want to be a good girl?" he asked her, rolling onto his side, and feeling the suppressed lust still causing him sweet pain. "Now you have a chance to prove it." The Darkling released his solnishka's hand, not hiding his pleasure at her surprise.

And indeed. They should be equals, because that was what the universe wanted them to be. And that meant that control should now fall to The Black General. And he, always, should have the final say in the matter.

Aleksander leaned over Alina's ear, blowing hot air over it, and savoring the delicious shiver that coursed through her body in response to his proximity.

"I want you to get on all fours and grab a pillow tightly, milaya," he told her, gently pushing her with his hand and suggesting that his precious girl should roll over. Her eyes glazed once more, but she willingly obeyed his command. The Darkling retreated further to the edge of the bed, then reached for Alina's hips in front of him, gripping them tightly for a moment. Then he leaned forward again, brushing her hair back from her shoulder and lightly nibbling on her earlobe, before whispering to her ear in a lust-heavy, slightly hoarse voice, "Tell me, my Alina, how long do you think you can tempt the wolf before he decides not to play with his food anymore?"

His Sun Summoner shuddered again against her will, and Aleksander smiled absently. He slid his hands down her back and onto her thighs, digging his strong fingers into them for reassurance. And then he thrust his hips forward, stifling the gasp that escaped his lips as the familiar, tight wetness enveloped his manhood on every side again.

"Good girl," he hissed, then carefully moved inside her. This time, the Darkling no longer needed to control himself. Now he was setting the pace, and he intended to exercise his complete control over his precious girl. "Is this what you wanted? To see what I am without restraint? Careful, Alina. You might like it too much," he ground out through his teeth, as the previously withheld fulfillment now made his sensations even more intense.

His solnishka let out a muffled cry.

Perfect. Did she enjoy such conversations during their intimate encounters? Then they'd both found another thing they had in common.

Aleksander knew how much they both enjoyed this position. He could reach so deeply with it, and she loved it just as much. She wanted to feel him fully with every fiber of her being.

"Good girl," The Black General panted, increasing the pace of his movements and savoring Alina's increasingly louder moans. "Now beg me for mercy, and I will give you what you want if you do this nice enough."

Alina was already on the edge. Her skin was glistening again, but the Darkling wouldn't let her reach climax until she asked him to.

"I beg you, Sasha!" she cried between his Sun Summoner's grunts. "Please... daddy, please!"

And she called him that again. Aleksander felt he couldn't hold back anymore.

"You asked so nicely, that I have no choice but to grant your wish," The Black General panted, his fingers digging into her hips.

And then he let his precious girl reach her peak again. He thrust his hips one last time, abandoning all self-control. He exploded in a wave of unimaginable pleasure, allowing himself to bask in the sensation for a long moment, only after a moment longer than necessary to pull out of his Sun Summoner and lean back over her ear, exposing her damp hair further down her back.

"Next time, be careful with what you say, milaya," Aleksander told her, then kissed her sweaty temple tenderly, deliberately lingering his lips there and savoring the unique scent of her skin, which would likely never cease to have an effect on his senses, not only stimulating but above all, soothing.

The peace the Darkling felt at that moment was incomparable. Perhaps only with the times when he held Alina in his arms, and she wrapped her small hand around his waist, breathing rhythmically against his side, lost in her sweet, innocent sleep.

"Because I'll make it last even longer than you expected," The Black General assured her, reluctantly withdrawing his lips to press a fleeting kiss to his Sun Summoner's exposed shoulder, intending to finally get dressed and get back to work.

***

Aleksander slammed the stack of papers, folded neatly in his hands, down on his massive desk to further organize them, though his absentmindedness seemed to give the action a somewhat automatic quality.

When the Darkling had left the bedroom, Alina had been already falling asleep, but his thoughts kept returning to her. There was no denying that in her arms, his worries had momentarily melted away, but now the fear still lingered, like a bandaged wound that would never truly heal. His Sun Summoner was undoubtedly right about one thing. Aleksander secretly longed for the day when all the Grisha wouldn't lie awake each night, fearing whether they would wake up alive the next day. Especially now, when his children were about to be born, that problem took on a whole new meaning.

Would the Darkling want his twins to be forced to kill from a young age, as his precious girl feared? Of course not, but being Grisha meant constantly looking you’re your shoulder. The Black General wouldn't let them out of his sight, certainly not until they were adults. But he would still prepare them for the worst. His children would know how to defend themselves if he didn't come to their aid in time. They would understand that killing was a last resort, but also a part of their daily lives. Alina might disagree, but she would change her mind when she held their twins in her arms for the first time. She would discover then that there were no lines she wouldn't cross to save what was important to her. Aleksander knew this better than anyone else. Because he felt it every day when he looked at his Sun Summoner, promising himself he would kill anyone who dared to lay a finger on her.

And now everything was complicated by Zoya Nazyalensky, sick with her own unfulfilled ambitions, whose appearance was certainly no accident. The Black General had to consider all possibilities, including the risk that The Squaller wanted to manipulate Alina. Bringing the Shu Han army to Ravka suited Nikolai, but the dark-haired Etherealki's uncharacteristic overzealousness seemed to have a hidden agenda. Zoya wouldn't lie about a major matter, as it was easily verifiable. What made Aleksander suspicious were the details she might have deliberately altered. What if Lantsov Puppy was behind all this? What if he intended to slander the new Regent of West Ravka by staging a provocation that would force the Darkling to act in a way he would later regret? This was, after all, typical behavior for all his predecessors. Nikolai didn't have to be a full-blooded Lantsov to imbue them with the worldview and priorities espoused by the people of this family, tainted by filth, greed, and shortsightedness. This disgusting person the blond man considered a foster father was a perfect example. Aleksander still felt furious as he recalled all his interactions with Tsar Pyotr. Especially one just before he had met Alina, when the Darkling had become convinced that this dynasty had to be removed from the throne of Ravka – once and for all.

The Black General closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, he found himself pushing open the heavy, gilded doors, entering the throne room without a hint of resistance from the guards who were standing at the exit in greater numbers than usual, as their lord was inside, waiting for the General of the Second Army.

Aleksander didn't hide his impatience, because the very next day he was to travel to Kribirsk to oversee the departure of one of the skiffs from the local port, to cross The Fold and reach Novokribirsk. This was to be the first major test of a new means of transportation that, if effective, would help East Ravka fight poverty and hunger.

Meanwhile, the Tsar wished to see the Darkling suddenly in the middle of the night, when normally he would be long asleep, drinking himself to death, or terrorizing his courtiers, which usually happened when Lantsov was intoxicated and completely oblivious to his position. Whatever he was concerned about, it was directly related to Aleksander. Pyotr either lacked the ability or the necessary authority to make an independent decision on the matter, which meant that this unplanned audience would concern Grisha. The king despised The Black General's subordinates, which didn't change the fact that he was eager to exploit their powers to their limits. The ruler knew Aleksander was leaving Os Alta the very next day, so he wanted to meet with him before The Shadow Summoner departed and would be gone for at least several days.

And this was what worried The Black General most. The unexpected decisions the Tsar often confronted him with always proved either ill-advised or extremely dangerous. Today, then, would be no different. All that remained for the Darkling was to minimize losses and prevent Ravka's national security from being jeopardized by Pyotr Lantsov's rash orders, which had become a nightmare for Aleksander Morozova, who was then forced to repair all the resulting damage.

That's why, approaching the throne where the king was sitting, surrounded by six guards, Aleksander vowed patience, even if his inner rage boiled. The worst he could do was defy the ruler's will, who would then begin to spite him, creating cataclysm after cataclysm. People like the Tsar had to be handled with caution. They had to be offered the illusion of superiority, so that they could actually skillfully steer their actions until they agreed to concessions they hadn't previously planned.

The Shadow Summoner descended the long staircase, walking along a red carpet toward the two thrones in the center of the hall. Only one was currently occupied, as Queen Tatiana never engaged in state affairs, and besides, her husband had kept her from all such decisions, subordinating her even further.

Aleksander gave his ruler a cautious and seemingly interested glance. Pyotr Lantsov had a stocky build, which was especially evident when he donned his uniform, as he did now. The Tsar was a middle-aged man of questionable appearance. Until ten years ago, he had tried to maintain his physical fitness, but then he had become too fond of women and the alcohol stored in the palace cellar. The king was already beginning to bald, and his facial skin took on an unhealthy, reddish appearance. The Shadow Summoner knew from his Healers, who occasionally checked on the monarch's health, that Lantsov suffered from a serious heart condition, which his prosperous life had bestowed upon the next ruler of Ravka, almost as if in a package given to him immediately after his coronation.

"General Kirigan," the Tsar greeted him as Aleksander approached the throne the King was occupying, bowing low before him and showing him undeserved respect. "I summoned you here because I wish to speak with you. I know you are leaving for Kribirsk tomorrow, so this is a matter of urgency."

"Of course, moi Tsar," the Darkling replied calmly, straightening his back and making eye contact with Lantsov. "Whatever you wish, my lord, I remain at your service."

How many rulers had Aleksander answered in this manner? How many of them had he had to lie to, mentally vowing revenge for all the harm their kind had brought upon his homeland?

But the time was coming when everything would change. The unrest in the west of the country was already spiraling completely out of control, and The Shadow Summoner knew that everything would soon change. Would it change for his benefit? That was unpredictable. But the Darkling had to constantly keep his finger on the pulse and be prepared to take decisive action, should circumstances dictate it.

"Today I heard rumors that Zlatan had learned of our planned undertaking, General Kirigan," Pyotr Lantsov said after a moment, looking down at Aleksander from his seat on the throne. "And that means he might want to use it against us."

The leader of The Second Army suppressed the wave of disgust that slowly spread like poison through him. Of course, Zlatan would do it, but not before the civil war officially broke out. For now, the commander from Novokribirsk was still gathering allies, and while the situation in Os Alta was somehow manageable, this western revolutionary would not decide to openly attack the capital. He would rather operate from the rear, stoking social discontent in East Ravka. And only when the Lantsovs' authority had fallen even further, would Zlatan attempt to seize power in the country. But Aleksander would then wait for him and beat him to it, and then he would himself ascend the throne, finally leading his homeland out of its long-standing decline.

"Yes, moi Tsar," the Darkling instead replied to Pyotr. "What do you expect from me, my lord?" he asked, donning his typical mask of obliging indifference, which lulled his interlocutors' vigilance and allowed him to steer the conversation at will.

The king frowned, giving the leader of The Second Army a suggestive look.

"Before you leave for Kribirsk, give instructions to your men at the border posts to return here to Os Alta." The monarch now had fury and madness shining in his blue, watery eyes. "Zlatan could deploy all his forces to East Ravka. We must be prepared for this, General Kirigan. We will distract him with a demonstration in Kribirsk, and in reality, we will outwit him. Perhaps we can eliminate this man's problem once and for all." The Tsar frowned, glancing at the Darkling as if expecting miracles from him.

Aleksander literally froze, but he didn't show it on the outside. Just as he hadn't shown the rage that was now literally tearing him apart from within.

Was that fool just trying to invite Shu Han and Fjerda to attack Ravka? Didn't he understand that without Grisha assigned to every border post, The First Army posed no obstacle to the bloodthirsty invaders?

The Shadow Summoner, however, needed to buy his time. He had to steer this conversation so that the Tsar would agree to delay carrying out this order until Aleksander returned to Os Alta.

"Moi Tsar," the Darkling spoke up. "Your order, though motivated by concern for Ravka, requires some refinement," The Black General told Lantsov, watching as the frown on the ruler's brow deepened. "Think about it, my lord," Aleksander continued. "There are only a few months left until the Winter Fete. We will be hosting many foreign guests here. And while strengthening the capital seems very justified, my lord, what about the increased traffic on the borders due to our celebration?"

Pyotr's face slowly began to reflect the doubts creeping in. The Shadow Summoner had to seize this opportunity, for Lantsov's armor of stubbornness had just been pierced.

"I solemnly advise you, my lord, to wait until the festival is over. Zlatan will certainly not attack us before then. This is because Novokribirsk will also be in chaos then, and this will force him to wait it out and attack us only in the spring at the earliest," added The Black General.

The Tsar stared at the Darkling for a long moment, pondering what his commander had just told him. The King hated the fact that he depended on The Second Army so much. It gave Aleksander time and an advantage in crisis situations. And best of all, the Tsar thought he was the one calling the shots.

"Very well," Pyotr finally said, narrowing his eyes slightly. "We'll talk when you return from Kribirsk, General Kirigan. And it's better that this mission is a success, do you understand?" the ruler threatened Aleksander, to which he bowed his head. "Otherwise, I'll hold you accountable. You may leave. And everything had better go smoothly, because Zlatan will surely be watching our backs."

"Yes, my Lord," the Darkling replied, straightening. "Soon all of Ravka will be praising your name, moi Tsar." With that, The Shadow Summoner spun on his heel and slowly walked forward along the red carpet.

But his thoughts were already elsewhere. In his mind's eye, he pictured himself taking the throne in Os Alta instead of Pyotr Lantsov. Right after the latter had been killed by his own stupidity.

The Black General blinked, gradually shaking off the haunting memories. His hands tapped the stack of documents he held against the desk one last time, forming a perfect stack. And then, quite by chance, the new Regent of West Ravka's gaze fell on the first report he had placed there. It concerned disturbing records of a rising death toll on the southern border with Shu Han. This problem had surfaced several weeks ago, and since then, not only hadn't subsided but had only intensified. While they had been waging war with Fjerda, Grisha from the southern outposts had been mysteriously disappearing. While stationing near the Sikurzoi mountain range posed risks due to the inaccessible terrain, the death and disappearance statistics clearly exceeded the margin of error Aleksander had established specifically for this purpose. And so the question arose – was there a connection between the ship arson attacks at Os Kervo, Nikolai's reckless actions, and the beasts that had attacked the Darkling's unit near Caryeva? And if so, who was behind all this, and what was their purpose? If this question could be answered, perhaps another war could be prevented. For now, however, The Black General was still searching for the common thread that connected all these issues. And the inability to find it was driving The Shadow Summoner to the brink of mental collapse.

Aleksander froze, holding the reports in his hand, as suddenly, for no apparent reason, a strange coldness spread throughout his entire body. This wave of cold, which was impossible to bear, spilled within him without warning, causing him to freeze completely, shuddering slightly. The sensation vanished as quickly as it had appeared. However, it left him feeling uneasy and quite weak. The Darkling had to set the documents aside, grip the edge of the desk, and take a deep breath. He disliked everything that had been happening to him lately. And now, a new worry had crept into his mind. And although The Black General had pushed the thought aside, as he had more pressing matters to attend to, he knew he couldn't do it forever.

After a moment, Aleksander sighed heavily, sliding open the top drawer of his desk. He pulled out a blank sheet of paper, then took a quill from the inkwell and began writing in his neat, clear, if somewhat flourishing handwriting. Empress Leyti must have received this inquiry, as it was meant to serve as a signal that West Ravka would not tolerate attacks on its property and sovereignty. The Black General expected the names of the recently captured assassins, and although Queen of Shu Han likely didn't know them, his letter would clearly convey that someone should be held accountable. The Darkling decided to play a political game with her, one that would quickly expose her lies or truthfulness. The tone of the response he received would serve as his best clue. Aleksander would base his strategy for the coming weeks on it. That's why it was so important to lay all his cards on the table. The conspiracy was working, but not under circumstances where the entire world was watching. There was no doubt that information about the arson incident had already spread across both sides of the True Sea. And now everyone was waiting for developments. The new Regent of West Ravka should take a firm stance regarding the violations of the peace treaties. And this stance couldn't be the result of a coward.

The Black General finished writing the letter and slipped it into the envelope lying on the edge of the counter. He'd barely had time to replace the quill in its inkwell when there was a knock on the door. The hour of the visit was unusual, to say the least, which meant it had to be important. So Aleksander placed the letter on top of the pile of other mail waiting to be sent and, trying to ward off the chill that still lingered beneath his skin, leaned back in his chair, pressing his fingers briefly against the bridge of his nose before calling, "Come in!"

The door opened a crack, and a deeply agitated Ivan marched in. The mere sight of someone as stoic by nature as his Colonel now in such a state alarmed the Darkling, who frowned, waiting for his Heartrender to approach him and, after receiving permission, sit in the chair opposite his commander.

"Moi Soverenyi," his Corporalki greeted The Shadow Summoner. "We have a problem."

Aleksander felt the unpleasant cold return, but it no longer paralyzed him as before or impaired his judgment. The Darkling narrowed his eyes at the Heartrender, folding his hands across his lower abdomen and heightening all his senses as he awaited the report.

"We had a break-in at the palace laboratory. It must have been several hours since it happened, since nothing but an entire crate of jurda parem antidote disappeared," Ivan muttered through tightly clenched teeth. "The guards on duty have already been questioned, sir. And they swear on their lives that no unauthorized persons entered."

The Black General felt the hands he had been holding on his lower abdomen involuntarily clench into fists. First, Zoya had entered the palace through one of the tunnels, and now someone was stealing an entire crate of antidote vials, and doing so undetected? Right under his nose? How was that possible?

Despite the increasing chill, the Darkling's blood began to pump faster at this revelation. A theft. In his own palace. That could only mean one thing – that the traitor was here legally, and that they were one of his own people.

"How did you find out?" Aleksander asked, his voice sounding as if it were coming from the abyss. He promised swift death to anyone who dared cross him.

"It must have happened during dinner. Kuwei went to the lab to sort through some notes and discovered that nearly two hundred vials of the antidote, which had taken him and David over a week to create, were missing. And since David was nowhere to be found at the time, the boy didn't report the theft, waiting for The Durast to explain whether he'd misplaced them. But Kostyk was as surprised as him. Only after they were both certain it was a burglary did they notify me, moi Soverenyi, and I questioned all the oprichniki on guard duty at the time. I also requested reports from the Palace entrance gate. No suspicious persons were entering or leaving the courtyard. I've reached a dead end, sir, and that's why I decided you must find out about this as soon as possible." His Colonel finished his report, watching as a fire of rage lit up in his General's eyes.

Like any prudent ruler, the new Regent knew he should adhere to the principle of limited trust. Anyone could turn out to be a traitor or a spy, but it was precisely for this reason that Aleksander had implemented all possible security measures in his residence, even considering the possibility of an assassination attempt. Nevertheless, these very safeguards ensured that the likelihood of an incident was reduced to an absolute minimum. Meanwhile, someone had been brazen enough not only to mock these arrangements but also to know the protocol, having entered and exited a room accessible only to a dozen or so people undetected.

And that was where the first step had to be taken. Everyone with access to the laboratory had to be interrogated to verify their alibis. If no one had entered the palace complex undetected, it meant an inside job, and certainly one commissioned by a third party.

"Was anything else missing?" the Darkling asked Ivan, trying to regain his composure. His Heartrender shook his head at this, seeing that his commander was so furious that shadows were now creeping out from every corner of his office, gathering around his desk and causing the light from the oil lamps to dim, shrouding them both in darkness.

"According to Kuwei and David's notes, nothing else was missing. Moreover, the burglar left behind a perfect tidy mess, which delayed detection. Forgive me, sir." Ivan looked deeply ashamed of himself.

But The Shadow Summoner wasn't going to blame him for that, since it was his security protocol that had been breached, and his Colonel had been doing everything he could to detect the perpetrators. No. It was himself that Aleksander was so furious with now. Someone had mocked him behind his back, and he hadn't reacted in time, and now he had to add another worry to his list of problems.

"Interrogate everyone authorized to enter the lab," The Black General ordered Ivan. "See if any of these people have disappeared. You'll know best if any of them are lying." The Black General leaned back in his chair again. "Start first thing in the morning, and then see if everyone shows up for breakfast. That's all," Aleksander told his Corporalki, who rose from his chair.

And then, before The Heartrender could leave, the Darkling remembered something else. "Also, let me know when the reports from Caryeva arrive," The Shadow Summoner said, placing his hands flat on his desk in front of him. "The spies should be back in Os Kervo any day now. I need to investigate these disappearances, as I'm certain all of this is connected somehow."

Ivan, who was standing by the door now, nodded. As soon as his Colonel disappeared into the corridor, Aleksander allowed himself a moment of weakness. He slammed his fist on the table, clenching his teeth tightly. His shadows obscured everything around him, bringing back that strange coldness that had momentarily paralyzed him moments ago. But this time, The Black General ignored it completely.

***

Although she couldn't see anything, because all she was looking at was a brightness flashing in all the possible colors of the rainbow, she could recognize every voice perfectly well. She was accompanied by three men and a woman, having a conversation that was reaching her as if from behind a glass wall that muffled some sounds and slightly distorted them. She didn't know them, but she understood what they were saying. Something told her that they were talking about her. All the auditory and visual sensations were completely overwhelming. She felt that this world wasn't ready for her yet. And she wanted to prove it wrong. That it was time for everyone to hear about her. After all, that was why she had been created, wasn't it?

She’s here!, someone shouted joyfully, and she felt a strange burning sensation spreading within her. Although it caused her pain, it also filled her with vitality. Was this what existence felt like? If so, it was a wonderful experience. Even though she was encountering it for the first time, she couldn't get enough of it. She craved more and more. It's little Grisha, sir, the person added. Do you wish me to test her powers, my lord?

This person undoubtedly had her in mind. Silence fell for a moment, but the colors before her eyes didn't fade. Quite the opposite. They became unbearably intense, and the world no longer offered only sounds, but also scents.

I will do it myself, Igor, another stranger spoke, and that person's voice held a lament from the past.

An ancient memory she felt with every fiber of her being, though she didn't understand why. This something was her, and she was that something. An ageless wisdom spun within her, urging her to listen to herself. It promised that if she did, the colors of the rainbow would fade, revealing the truth. But she still couldn't do it. Not yet.

And then that brief pain returned, but in its wake came infinite happiness. Had someone just freed her from some kind of confinement? Why was she now feeingl as if she could fly? Why was she feeling free and unbound, as if someone had liberated her soul?

Yes, yes!, called someone with an ancient voice, in which for the first time any emotion could be heard. It worked. The Sun Summoner is finally with us.

Was this someone talking about her? And why did it sound as if she had just found a lost part of herself? Why did she feel this strange belonging that she couldn't deny even if she put all her willpower into it?

You were right, sir, said someone whom the owner of the ancient voice had previously called Igor. Her mother being a living amplifier did indeed help, sir. So we still have hope. Your genius, sir, is unmatched.

For a moment, no one spoke, and she drifted in a void filled with power and color. Whatever it was, she loved it. She wouldn't trade it for anything. This was her life. The existence she was conceived for.

What will you call her, Dimitriy?, the owner of the ancient voice finally asked, reminding her again of the wisdom of the passing ages, enchanted into a being that possessed neither shape nor form, as it remained hidden behind a riot of color. Remember, all the names have some hidden meaning, boy. Therefore, choose it wisely.

Anmei, a third voice said, accompanied by a surprised cry from some woman. I will call her Anmei.

And suddenly everything made sense. This was the name she was destined to bear. Although she had remained nothing more than a fleeting thought for now, she knew that from now on they would call her Anmei. She felt it with her entire being. It simply suited her.

Why such a choice, boy?, asked the owner of the ancient voice, though a hint of hesitation now lingered in it. The past had once again taken on a new force, as if something approved of this choice. As if no other decision were possible.

Because it was there, my lord, that everything began, someone called Dimitriy spoke up. And also because I am grateful to you for everything you did for me, my lord. If you don't mind, allow me to give her this name. She will bear it with pride. I promise.

Silence fell around her, but it didn't interrupt the rainbow of colors or the entire palette of scents that reached her consciousness from every possible angle. No matter what it was – whether it was just a thought or something resembling a memory – she felt everything with her whole being. And she didn't want to forget it. She couldn't.

Good, the owner of the ancient voice finally said, as if with approval, but also with peace. The first Grisha of her kind will therefore be named Anmei.

Thank you, my lord, Dimitriy said, and she understood what joy was.

Anmei. It simply sounded right. The way they all spoke her name filled her with freedom and happiness. She was there with them. A stray thought, a memory, perhaps even a hot breath. But she existed. And nothing had ever seemed more fitting.

They will come for us, my lord, Dimitryi added after a moment. So what do you command, my master?

A twinge of anxiety. Nothing more than a tickle, but it interrupted her happiness. Was this what fear felt like? She didn't want it; it wasn't hers.

She longed to remain free and happy. To be a serene thought, a memory, and a lost happiness.

Hide her well, boy, the owner of the ancient voice commanded. Remember that when the time comes, she will be very important. Therefore, protect her at all costs. Guard my Sun Summoner.

Alina opened her eyes wide, finding her gaze fixed on the dark canopy of the bed in which she still was lying in. She discovered that the shivers which were now shuddering through her body were something entirely real and not just some projection of her imagination. They no longer resembled the drifting sensation The Sun Summoner had felt in her dreams, but instead everything seemed too overwhelming and too intense. The future queen of Ravka had an impression as if someone had suddenly sucked all her energy out of her. The nausea that attacked her whenever she opened her eyes and all the scents filled her nostrils was the least of her problems lately. Besides, Genya had told her that these morning discomforts should subside soon. They were merely the first stage of waiting for delivery, when her body had to prepare to carry a new life within itself, which needed the right conditions to thrive.

So Alina, feeling incredibly weak now, as if she were struggling to move, reached for the glass vial of pills on the nightstand, shook them into her sweaty palm, and popped them into her mouth, taking a sip of water from the glass beside her. If Aleksander saw her now, he would immediately order her to stay in bed all day, sending servants to attend to her every whim. But she knew she wouldn't just stay restless. This strange dream had to mean something, confirming something The Sun Summoner already knew. Anmei wasn't just a person, but also a place. And perhaps she had begun her search in a wrong way. Perhaps she should be looking not for some mythical figure straight out of Ravkan legends, but for the town named after her.

Alina struggled to get out of bed, waiting to see if she would feel strong enough to make it to the bathroom on her own. The nausea had subsided, but not the overwhelming fatigue. Nevertheless, the future queen of Ravka reached for the robe draped over the back of a nearby chair and slowly pulled it onto her naked body. Usually, a few hours after waking, The Sun Summoner felt better. Now, however, every movement took a tremendous amount of effort, as if the intoxicating moments with Aleksander had drained her of all her vitality.

The memory of the events of the past few hours made Alina's cheeks flush. Her blood began to pump a little faster, finally motivating her to go to the bathroom. She summoned the palace servants, waited for her bathtub to be filled with warm water, then immersed herself in it up to her neck, trying to relax for a moment. Her hand instinctively reached for the vials of bath salts. The Sun Summoner uncorked one of them, and the aroma of musk and pine resin filled her nostrils. This brought her thoughts back to Aleksander, stirring nostalgia that gripped Alina even more as she washed away the scent of his kisses. The Black General wouldn't want the future queen of Ravka to jeopardize her health, especially not for his sake. And that was one of the thousands of reasons his precious girl had decided she wouldn't rest until she unraveled the mysteries of his past, to help him finally free himself from it.

Especially now, when the dream was once again offering The Sun Summoner new clues. Who was Anmei? Did this mean there was another Grisha like her? A woman just like her, born in a completely different time and place? Was that why Alina felt a connection to her and saw events related to her? Was that why she needed to find her? And how did this connect with Aleksander?

The future queen of Ravka reluctantly left the tub of warm water, then dried and dressed herself, and moved toward the exit of the chamber. Her destination was the library again, but this time, she didn't want to wait until evening to meet with David. She decided to seek answers alone, while the dream was still vivid in her memory and while she could recall every detail.

The Sun Summoner then stepped into the hallway, and the chaos immediately caught her eye. Grisha were marching hurriedly in both directions, bowing to her as they passed. Although they should have been at breakfast, something had clearly disrupted their plans. Alina rarely shared meals with them now, when she was with Aleksander, but she knew the daily routine at The Summer Palace. And this morning bustle didn't quite fit with what she had become accustomed to. Nevertheless, she didn't have time to dwell on it. She needed peace, so the fewer people interrupting her, the better.

The future queen of Ravka entered the library, closing the door quietly behind her. This time, she wanted to focus her research on something entirely different. That's why she went straight to the section of old maps, finding all the ones dating back several centuries, and then took them with her to one of the nearest tables, spreading them out one by one on the tabletop in front of her.

As a former cartographer, Alina knew how to read all cartographic symbols, even the oldest ones. Anmei didn't have to be a full place name, after all, but merely a symbol. Perhaps even a simple letter. Legend, however, said that this town was located somewhere in the mountains. If the Shu Han people had been searching for a beloved of the Medic of Tools there, then it must have been somewhere within the Sikurzoi mountain range. The Sun Summoner spread out maps in front of her, carefully examining each section with her experienced eyes. However, the stack before her quickly dwindled, and even the last sheet yielded no clues. Alina felt like crying from helplessness, but then she realized something.

Aleksander. The Black General must have had other maps in his office, typically military ones. They were exceptionally detailed and didn't miss even the smallest things. The future queen of Ravka had worked on them, so she knew no other maps could compare. Unfortunately, The Sun Summoner had only mapped the area around The Shadow Fold. However, she knew where she should continue her search and that she shouldn't give up just yet.

Alina gathered the maps from the counter and returned them to their places. She had only just time to turn towards the door leading outside the library when someone opened it and entered the room with great haste, but also with grace. A storm of red hair and a red kefta immediately gave away the person's identity. Genya Safin take a pointed look at her startled friend, then approached The Sun Summoner, taking her by the elbow and leading her to one of the tables, where she gently sat the girl down in a chair, doing the same herself.

"Genya, what are you doing here?" Alina asked, her surprise preventing her from speaking earlier. "Shouldn't you be at breakfast?" she asked, watching The Tailor slide her hands across the counter to grab her by wrists in affectionate way.

But the red-haired Corporalki seemed quite nervous. This forced Alina to wait until Genya herself revealed the details of this strange intrusion.

"Alina, we have a problem," her friend said after a moment, making the future queen of Ravka's heart beat faster. "Someone broke into Kuwei and David's laboratory, stealing a whole batch of new vials of the jurda parem antidote." The Tailor's expression was one of concern and hesitation.

And indeed, she had reason to be concerned. Because such an incident shouldn't be taken lightly.

The Sun Summoner froze. Her heart began to pound in her chest, and her breath caught in her throat, making breathing almost impossible.

"What?" she asked after a long moment of silence, trying to recover from the shock this revelation had caused her.

The redhead merely nodded, her face even paler than usual.

"And the worst part is that it coincided with Zoya's visit to the tunnel," Genya added, making her friend feel dizzy. "What if this meeting with you was just a smokescreen, Sunshine? And she really wanted to get into the palace somehow?"

Alina felt bile rise in her throat. She, too, had thought the exact same thing. And it was hard to shake the feeling that those assumptions might prove correct.

"But why does she need a jurda parem?" The Sun Summoner wondered aloud. "Unless..." At this, the future queen of Ravka felt a chill run through her entire body. "Unless Nikolai sent her here, wanting to see how Aleksander would react." The girl's tongue was bitter, and she was trembling.

Genya froze, seemingly agreeing with this line of thought.

"But is she insane?" she asked Alina after a moment, knowing she should be supporting her friend now, not just worrying her more. "Has she forgotten what kind of person our General is?" The Tailor shook her head. "That's what desperation drives people to, Sunshine. It's very Zoya-like to play both sides. I wouldn't be surprised if you were right."

The Sun Summoner had no idea what The Squaller's true motives were. Whether she had acted on her own, in cahoots with someone, or perhaps under orders from someone else. There was no doubt, however, that her visit to the palace and the break-in at the laboratory were somehow connected. And while Alina hadn't wanted to upset Aleksander, she had planned to ask him for the maps anyway, so duty might as well have dictated that she discuss it with him. They were, after all, partners in every sphere of life. Of course, the Darkling wouldn't take this well. Moreover, there was a high probability that he had already reached that conclusion himself, and his Sun Summoner would simply reinforce it.

The future queen of Ravka straightened in her chair, taking a deep breath. She was still shaking, but she had made her decision. The Black General would be disappointed in her again, because his relationship with her, for some reason, had only brought him trouble. But Alina Starkov was no longer a coward. There were only minor exceptions that justified, in her opinion, concealing the truth from Aleksander. And they concerned only his mental well-being and his health. All other matters had to be immediately communicated to him. Because that was what people who cared about someone did. And The Sun Summoner loved the Darkling. His well-being had become a value more precious to her than her own life.

Genya followed her friend's movements with her eyes as she rose from her chair, gripping its backrest with her hands to check if she had enough energy to head towards the exit.

"What are you planning?" The Tailor asked Alina, seemingly deeply concerned about her current state.

"I'm going to see Aleksander," she told her, and without waiting for the redhead to stop her, she moved cautiously towards the library exit, placing her feet carefully not only because of her nervousness, but also because of her sudden weakness and the state of her emotions. Chaos still reigned in the corridor. The future queen of Ravka allowed her legs to act on memory, leading her in a direction she knew perfectly well.

She didn't know how much time had passed before she reached the doorknob of the room she unconsciously recognized. The place where, she was certain, she would now meet the person her heart had longed for every single second they had been apart.

And Alina was right. Aleksander was standing in the middle of his office, frowning. He was holding a document in his hand, giving the impression that something had unsettled him moments earlier. However, as soon as he heard the door close behind his Sun Summoner, his expression immediately brightened. He placed the paper on his desk, quickly marching toward her.

"Alya," he told her as he approached her, cupping her cheeks in his hands and kissing her forehead tenderly. Then he pulled away to look her directly in the eyes with concern. "Is something wrong? Shouldn't you be resting yet?" he asked, studying her expression anxiously.

Without waiting for his permission, his Sun Summoner, without warning, wrapped her arms around Aleksander's waist, pressing her face to his chest. The steady beat of his heart filled her with a measure of the peace the future queen of Ravka so desperately craved. But then she realized she'd definitely upset him with her sudden behavior. So she reluctantly pulled away, tilting her head up and drowning in the inviting blackness of his eyes.

"Sasha," she told him, wondering how best to begin this conversation. "I heard about the break-in at David's lab." The Black General visibly tensed, proving Alina right. "And I'm sure you'll agree that it's disturbingly connected to Zoya."

Aleksander frowned, and his Sun Summoner guessed why. Indeed, the Darkling had the same suspicions as she. And he didn't appreciate being treated like a fool.

"Unfortunately, milaya," The Shadow Summoner grumbled reluctantly through his teeth. "But you know I won't leave it at that. And if I connect Zoya to this break-in, well... even a thousand royal lovers won't help her then."

Alina felt a coldness radiating from The Black General, a rage so unbridled that it infected her, chilling her blood. Suddenly, the girl regretted disturbing his peace, but tried to convince herself that he already knew everything. And it was precisely for this reason, to spare him another shock, that the future Queen of Ravka decided to go ahead and share with Aleksander the second reason for her visit.

"Sasha?" she asked, grabbing his wrist and thus pulling him from his furious distraction. His gaze immediately fell on her face, finding new cause for concern there. "I wanted to ask you, do you have any maps here besides the ones I found in the library?" Alina's heart beat faster, awaiting The Black General's reaction.

At that moment, something else appeared in his black irises, besides fear. Surprise, and also suspicion, as the question must have undoubtedly surprised him.

"What do you need maps for, milaya?" he asked, placing his hand on her cheek.

Alina flinched almost imperceptibly, not only because the Darkling's touch had such an effect on her, but also because his skin felt so cold.

"I..." The Sun Summoner hesitated for a moment, but then remembered what she'd promised herself. She bit her lower lip and allowed herself to be honest, because keeping something like that a secret would be a serious mistake. "I want to see if I can find a place called Anmei there."

The future queen of Ravka didn't need to mention that she was searching for traces of Aleksander's family. She didn't want to give him false hope. But since that name also appeared in Alina's dreams, there was a possibility that she too had some connection to the Medic of Tools’ former lover. And that the first Sun Summoner had a connection to her as well. Was it possible that The Black General knew something about this person? The shock now etched in his black eyes, however, spoke volumes. Or at least, that was how his precious girl interpreted it.

"Anmei?" Aleksander asked her, clearly concerned. "Why are you seeking a place by that name, Alya? Is there something I should know?"

Alina held her breath for a moment, making a decision. She could, and had to, tell the Darkling about her dreams. The Black General possessed greater knowledge than she did and remembered far, far away times. The future queen of Ravka would never again be so ignorant as to despise his experience. Not when Aleksander was the wisest person she knew. And above all, he was the one who had proven himself right over and over again, and for that alone, he deserved the absolute respect.

The only exception was his safety and health, and in that regard, nothing had changed. Alina would still keep certain things a secret to spare The Shadow Summoner unnecessary suffering. That was precisely why she hid her worsening condition. She knew that she and the Darkling were like communicating vessels, and when one didn't demand anything, the other felt it firsthand.

However, that wasn't the case here. The girl could and should be honest, which she did.

"I dream of Anmei almost every night," Alina told him after a moment, seeing his anxiety intensify again. "That's why I want to understand if it has some other, secret meaning. Or at least find that place. Perhaps then I'll find some peace?" It was a rhetorical question, but Aleksander knew how to read between the lines.

And he didn't look as if it would calm him now.

"Every night?" The Black General asked her, frowning. "And is that what's troubling you so much, milaya? Don't you think this might be consuming too much of your time and energy? Time you should be devoting to rest?" An emotion The Sun Summoner couldn't decipher flashed in his black irises.

But it all faded away as the Darkling's hand moved forward very carefully, settling very gently on her stomach.

It was the first time Aleksander had done such a thing. Alina couldn't help but feel tears leaking from beneath her eyelids, spilling in thin rivulets of betrayed emotion onto her pale cheeks. Her thoughts drifted to their conversation back then, in the carriage, about what family was. Back then, The Black General had assured her that they needed no one else in their lives. Now, however, he was accepting their future together, one that wouldn't be just the two of them, but her, him, and their twins. The Sun Summoner had probably never felt more moved. And the love that now was filling her from within was the most beautiful and truest thing she had ever had the pleasure of experiencing.

So Alina sniffed softly, rising to the tips of her toes to place a gentle kiss on Aleksander's lips. She poured all her tenderness and gratitude into it, as well as her pride in the fact that someone like him would be the father of her children. He was still holding his hand on her lap, which only added an almost symbolic meaning to their closeness.

"You should also think about resting sometimes, Sasha," she whispered against his lips, closing her eyes. "You're not the only one who worries about something. You are all I have, Aleksander. And I won't let myself lose you."

***

Aleksander Morozova hadn't eaten since last night, and it was already approaching dinnertime. In moments like these, The Shadow Summoner completely forgot about hunger, as his thoughts focused on other, far more important matters. His body worked at an accelerated pace, feeding off the adrenaline pumping through his veins. Only relative peace could remind the Darkling of mundane matters, and when he couldn't achieve it, he wouldn't be able to swallow anything anyway.

Now, even though he had finally dealt with all the reports, Aleksander felt a strange unease that completely unsettled him, causing him to grip the arms of his tall, carved chair, tilt his head back, and close his eyes. Sometimes, extremely rarely, moments like this came when The Black General had to remind himself that he, too, wasn't indestructible. That there were boundaries, the crossing of which could be dangerous, but not for himself, but for others whom he vowed to protect.

Therefore, self-control proved to be extremely important in his case. Someone with almost unlimited power could easily stray from their chosen path and completely lose sight of their goal. People who feared the Darkling had always evoked a kind of pity in him. Otkazats'ya failed to understand that if he hadn't had the good of Ravka and themselves in mind, they would all have long ago fallen victim to his power. Yet, to build something, it wasn't always necessary to first destroy it. Rather, it was about eliminating obstacles, such as the Lantsov monarchy, which was afflicting the country like a terminal disease, to rebuild the malfunctioning system towards a solution that served its purpose. Ravka was to become a strong and independent country. But not a kingdom of ashes, where nothing would remain but ruins. And that's why The Black General always remembered the importance of self-control. And not because of the lust for power he was accused of, but because he knew how far he could go if he wanted to. Those fools twisted everything. But it wasn't his job to prove anything to them. His task was to seize the throne and finally restore proper order to Ravka.

Meanwhile, ever since Alina had left, Aleksander couldn't shake the words his Sun Summoner had uttered. Something told him he knew them perfectly well, that he'd heard them mentioned before, only eternity had blurred them in his other memories, when terrifying images obscured everything that had shaped the beginning of his life. But today, when his precious girl had finally agreed to go out for a meal, the Darkling had a moment to think about it. And between the waves of cold hitting him at the most unexpected moments and the feeling of frustration related to the recent events in the palace, somewhere in the distant layers of his mind wandered that irrational anxiety that had taken over him when Alina had mentioned Anmei.

Aleksander knew the topography of Ravka perfectly well and he was convinced that no town by that name existed there in modern times. But the fact that he also recognized the word compelled him to test his suspicions in one more place. On a map that The Shadow Summoner kept in a locked drawer, as it dated back to a time before The Shadow Fold. If it fell into the wrong hands, it could crumble to pieces from age. Therefore, The Black General never approached it without gloves and without first spraying a sheet of paper with a special liquid impregnation that his Fabrikators had created for precisely such purposes.

Therefore, Aleksander slipped on black leather gloves and, pushing himself away from the desk, headed toward a tall bookshelf where, besides books, he also stored everyday items he needed for his daily work. The Darkling took a tall bottle with a metal tube inserted into its neck, fitted with a hand pump. By pressing it with great force with his finger he could move a condensed clear liquid – which was kept inside – at the top of the vessel and spray it sideways through a very fine strainer.

Then The Shadow Summoner returned to his desk and, setting the impregnating liquid on the countertop, he sat back in his chair and pulled a set of keys from his kefta pocket. He used them to open the bottom drawer, revealing something wrapped in cloth. Aleksander unrolled the cloth with extreme care, arranging the find before him and taking care not to let the papyrus touch the wood. He then untied the string that bound the roll with the precision and skill of someone who had done this many times before, taking care to hold it by the very tips and never letting it fall from his gloved hand. He sprayed the map with the impregnating liquid to protect it from disintegration. Only then did The Black General begin to examine the hand-crafted cartographic record of ancient Ravka's topography. His gaze focused on every detail he encountered, and although some of the writing had faded significantly, most of the markings were still decipherable.

Suddenly, one small detail caught his attention. Where the Sikurzoi mountain range ended in a cliff that jutted into The True See, someone had placed a small dot with a sun symbol. Aleksander felt a strange chill creep into his bones again. He leaned over the map, deciding to investigate it further. He turned on the special lamp he'd once used to decipher the code in his grandfather's diary, struck by the feeling that this sun hieroglyph wasn't accidental. An icy chill ran down his spine, only intensifying the coldness that had already been engulfing him from within for several hours. The light from the lamp revealed a hidden inscription.

Anmei.

Seeing it in its real form, Aleksander froze. Previously, the word had only evoked associations, but now, written on papyrus and quite real, it evoked a certain memory in the Darkling's mind. Something so distant that the passage of time had blurred some details, but the image began to come into focus, and the cool sand beneath his bare feet once again was flowing through his tiny fingers as his mother pulled him along by the hand, ignoring the fact that his short legs occasionally got tangled, and he sometimes fell facedown to the ground, sobbing.

Baghra, however, wouldn't let him feel sorry for himself. She stopped only long enough to lift him from the sandy beach before the waves crashing against the shore soaked him too much, causing him to feel even more sorry for himself.

"Stupid boy," his mother scolded him, crouching down beside him once more and placing an oil lamp beside them. Its glow was illuminating their path. "You need to be faster, Aleksander. Those who are too slow are already dead."

But he truly didn't understand her. Tears streamed down his cheeks, salty as the water Baghra was now washing over his forehead, trying to clean the sand that had also gotten under his eyelids as he had fallen on his face.

"Mama," he whimpered, reaching out his short arms to her. "Mama, I can't walk. Mama, I just want to go to sleep." Thin streams continued to flow uncontrollably from beneath his eyelids.

And though Aleksander knew his madraya would be furious with him, he couldn't help it. He was too scared, and he was getting hungrier. Meanwhile, they were running away again, in the middle of the night. And he cried when he was left alone in the dark.

"Don't be absurd, boy," Baghra told him, wiping his face with the hem of her dark skirt, quickly rising from her knees and bending down to retrieve the oil lamp. "We have to leave this place before it begins to dawn. Otherwise, they'll catch us and kill us, do you understand it, child? Kill us. You've seen dead people before, remember, Aleksander?" she reminded him, turning back to the point of light looming in the distance, which must have been some fishing village. "You don't want the same thing to happen to me, do you? And to be taken away by evil people who will want to harm you?"

His mother's words made the boy's lower lip tremble dangerously. His heart pounded in his chest as he followed her on his short legs, trying with all his might to keep up with Baghra.

"Mama, I'm scared!" he whimpered, allowing himself to be dragged by the hand across the sand again like a straw puppet. "Mama, I'm hungry!" he complained after a moment, ignoring the cold waves lapping at his tiny feet.

But she didn't even stop. She fixed her gaze on the point of light looming ahead of them amidst the fathomless darkness, leaving the high mountain peaks far behind them.

"You're over two years old, Aleksander!" Baghra scolded the little boy, the pressure around his wrist growing even stronger. "You can last a few hours on an empty stomach, do you understand it? As soon as we find a roof over our heads, I'll find you something to eat. Now, stop crying, child, or those people will catch up with us!"

The boy sobbed, shivering with cold. Although winter was over, the water was still freezing. He was running barefoot across the sand, which made him need to pee almost constantly. But Aleksander was afraid to tell his madraya. He didn't want her to punish him like she did when he sobbed too much. His mother liked it when he was silent or always listened her politely. Only then did she even hug him occasionally. But this happened so rarely that the boy almost didn't expect it anymore. All he wanted was for his mother to take him in her arms and stop yelling at him.

"Mama," the little one whimpered one last time, feeling himself wet his pants, despite his best efforts not to. "Mama, don't be angry!"

Baghra stopped abruptly, kneeling before him again. She searched for some reason for his complaints, and finding none on his face, her gaze quickly swept along his small frame, searching for the cause of his sobs. And then a fire of rage ignited in her blue eyes.

"Stupid boy!" she scolded him, examining his wet pants in the dim glow of the oil lamp. "I told you that if you get wet, you'll have to endure it until we finally dry off!" Her pale irises were radiating undisguised displeasure. "Look what you've done, you wayward child!" With that, Baghra abruptly rose from her knees, lifting their only light source from the sand. "You didn't heed my warning, so now you must toil until we reach our destination and find a hiding place. This is what your disobedience ends with, Aleksander. Next time, you'll know you must always obey me. I only care about your well-being, boy!" His madraya grabbed his wrist again, ignoring the fact that the boy's pants were soaked. "Now hurry! We should be there in two hours. We have to leave Anmei before they find us. Come on, go ahead!" she urged him one last time, tugging on the boy's hand so hard he almost stumbled again. "Stop crying! Sometimes I can't believe you're my son, Aleksander! You're a terrible crybaby, and it'll kill you someday!" Baghra threw over her shoulder, ignoring the waves that were breaking against the shore with increasing force.

And the boy did indeed move forward, swallowing his own tears as he went. He and his madraya had had to leave Anmei because his mother had done something very, very bad. And now those people were searching for them, already hot on their heels.

The Darkling's thoughts returned to reality, feeling the memory cut deep, chilling him to the bone. So even then, even when he himself had been just a little boy, the Baghra had treated him only as an obstacle. Aleksander realized that his mother had always despised him. He had never understood why she had kept him by her side at all, when no such honor had been bestowed upon any of his siblings. This distant memory, against his will, filled The Black General with immense pain. His mother, however, had been right. The Shadow Summoner was weak because to this day he had been unable to free himself from her influence. Although he dreamed of the day when it would happen, he was also a realist. This was his karma and his burden. Punishment for desiring something different from what Baghra could accept in her vision of his place in her life.

Anmei.

Suddenly, this place became a dot on the map of the Darkling's long existence. But why had Alina dreamed of it too? What could this mean, since the place had long since vanished?

Unfortunately, Aleksander didn't have time to consider it, as a sharp knock sounded at the door. The man gently rolled the map into a roll and wrapped it in cloth. Then he bent down to slip the ancient scroll back into the drawer. Only after he had locked his possession did the Shadow Summoner straighten in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment to regain his momentarily lost composure. Then, when he finally opened them, he called, "Come in!"

Ivan marched into his office with greater haste than usual. He stopped only before his commander, bowing his head to him.

"Sir," his Colonel greeted him, holding out a bundle of papers tied with string to Aleksander. "We haven't yet been able to determine who broke into the laboratory, but I have reports from Caryeva for you, moi Soverenyi. Please take a look at them." With that, The Corporalki handed his General the documents, earning a piercing glance from him.

The Darkling untied the ribbon and began to review the reports. The longer he did this, the more chill spread through him. So, his earlier suspicions might indeed be correct. Someone was kidnapping Grisha along the southern border, but Aleksander hadn't prepared himself for the next revelation, revealed by the statistics the scouts had provided him.

It turned out that wounded soldiers, with their memories wiped, were returning to their posts with healed wounds. The survivors couldn't say who had saved their lives, because all they spoke of were the winged creatures that had tried to kidnap them earlier.

The Black General frowned, guessing that someone else was involved in this political game. Someone who had rescued their men from the clutches of the khergud, then restored them to health and erased their memories. The question remained, who was he referring to? Did this person know about the arson attacks or had something to do with the theft of the jurda parem antidote? Or perhaps it wasn't Zoya at all? The Darkling had to explore all possibilities. Things were getting increasingly complicated, and the only thing that could help resolve them now was common sense.

"Get the scouts ready," Aleksander said after a long moment, now facing Ivan directly and placing the stack of documents on his desk. "I want them to start asking about the disappearance of wounded Grisha bodies previously attacked by the khergud. I'm only interested in victims of attacks who survived and then magically vanished, only to return to their posts in perfect health. Those abducted by the winged creatures undoubtedly end up inside Shu Han, where, as I suspect, they become the subjects of some kind of experimentation. However, those who return must be connected to someone else and someone very powerful. Perhaps it's some group, perhaps a cult. If we can reach whoever is stealing the wounded, we'll find the instigator of this whole operation. For now, it looks like it's our ally, but we won't know unless we really investigate. This amnesia worries me. It might have something to do with keeping a secret, but it could also be a cover-up to pull the wool over our eyes." The Darkling narrowed his eyes at his Colonel, who was now listening intently, awaiting further instructions. "Have our scouts set out for the southern border first thing tomorrow morning. The sooner we can pin these events on a specific person or group, the better we'll know whether we're dealing with an ally or an enemy," The Shadow Summoner added, leaning back in his chair.

Ivan nodded.

"Anything else, sir?" he asked, but Aleksander shook his head.

A moment later, The Corporalki disappeared into the corridor, marching there just as quickly as he'd entered.

The Black General leaned the back of his head against his chair, closing his eyes for a moment. The atmosphere was thickening. Too many people seemed to be caught up in the escalating conflict on the border, and it was necessary to act very quickly. Aleksander decided to allocate another portion of the funds from the West Ravka treasury to rapid rearmament. He still had at his disposal the reserves accumulated before the war with Fjerda had broken out. Now he could redirect them to the army, and in the current situation, it seemed the wisest move.

The Shadow Summoner shuddered slightly again. Those strange waves of cold, assaulting his body at the most unexpected moments, were becoming more regular and more unexpected. The Darkling could ignore them, as they weren't affecting his quality of life or his mental acuity for now, but in the long run, this ailment could prove very troublesome. It was difficult for Aleksander to imagine himself in a decision-making situation while being distracted. Hopefully, this would somehow pass, unless the cause lay in that one thing The Black General secretly feared. Could it be the merzost, and if so, would his condition remain at the same level, or would it begin to deteriorate unpredictably over time?

The new Regent of West Ravka rubbed his eyes with his fingers, finally straightening up in his seat. He poured himself a large glass of water from the carafe standing on the silver tray placed at the edge of his desk and drained it in a few quick gulps. Then, just as he had time to set the glass back down, someone disturbed his peace again. A soft knock on the door broke the oppressive silence, reminding the Darkling that he needed to concentrate.

So Aleksander placed his hands flat on the desk and called, "Come in!"

The Black General had to admit that he hadn't expected to see this particular person at the threshold of his office. But it was a fortunate coincidence, because he and his guest had something to talk about. And it wouldn't be a particularly friendly conversation, unless that someone proved he could still trust them.

Genya carefully closed the door behind her, walking toward her commander's desk with typical pride and grace. The Shadow Summoner, however, knew her best among his soldiers and knew that The Tailor was tense right now. She approached one of the vacant chairs, gripping its back for support. Then she bowed to Aleksander in greeting, and when he nodded in return, indicating an empty seat, the redhead was visibly relieved and quickly accepted the Darkling's permission.

“Moi Soverenyi,” Genya began, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “Alina is worried you haven’t eaten yet, and since she doesn’t want to seem obsessively protective, she sent me here, asking you to join her for a late dinner.”

Aleksander knew it was a play on the facade. He raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the back of his chair and intertwining his fingers across his lower abdomen.

“Are you sure that’s why you came to see me, Genya?” he asked her, his gaze sliding up and down her figure.

The Tailor paled slightly, but skillfully kept up the facade.

“No,” she confessed after a moment, lifting her chin proudly despite her obvious fear of what was about to happen. “I know you’ll probably punish me, moi Soverenyi, but it had to be done.” The redhead took a deep breath, then reached into the pocket of her red kefta. She pulled out a folded piece of paper, then held it out to her commander. "Zoya left me the contact information for the person she was staying with. It's supposedly a distant relative, to whose address I sent the letter arranging a meeting between her and Alina in the palace tunnel."

Aleksander narrowed his eyes, though he already knew this. Hearing it from The Tailor's lips, however, carried a significance related to her loyalty. And so the Darkling decided to let her speak.

"Although I did this on The Sun Summoner's orders, I know I violated your trust, General," Genya confessed, knowingly admitting to her transgression against the commander of The Second Army. "In doing so, I endangered Alina's safety, and I am fully aware of the responsibility you might wish to hold me to." The redhead seemed calm now, despite her obvious nervousness.

This meant she had carefully considered this conversation before coming to him. The Tailor had always been courageous, but recognizing her mistake was crucial, as it guaranteed that the situation would never happen again.

Aleksander looked her straight in the eye, deliberately imbuing his entire authority with the gesture. The truth was, he had already discussed the matter with Alina and had no intention of taking any consequences for Genya this time. However, her understanding of the gravity of her lapse was crucial, as it alone guaranteed that the redhead wouldn't act so recklessly next time.

And then The Black General's hand shot out toward The Tailor, taking the paper still was holding out to him. The Corporalki flinched barely perceptibly, but her calm, as always, made a good impression on her commander. That was why Genya was so good at her job. She knew how to keep her cool, and that wasn't a common thing.

"One thing saves you, Genya Safin," Aleksander finally told her, placing the address information she'd given him on a stack of papers. "And that's that I didn't give you a direct order in this matter. But next time, I'll treat it as a violation of my decisions, and that's always punishable according to the statutes of The Second Army. You know I trust you, Genya, so don't test my patience," the Darkling warned her, looking The Corporalki deep in the eyes. "Alina found herself in a life-threatening situation, and instead of warning me, you helped her. I hope you realize what would have happened if something had attacked you all in the tunnel back then? And what would I have done if even a hair had fallen from Alina's head?"

The Tailor nodded.

Another wave of cold spread through Aleksander's body, but he deliberately ignored it.

"Good, then we understand each other," The Shadow Summoner told his Corporalki, motioning for her to rise from her seat, which she obediently did. "You may go and remember what I told you. On your way back, please check on Alina and tell her I'll be there soon."

Genya bowed to her commander and, visibly calmer, left Aleksander's office. He had had enough of the day's events. Everything had come together strangely, and he had to keep his nerves on a leash to avoid losing control. Whether it was his emotions or human stupidity bringing new threats to Ravka, The Black General's physical condition had deteriorated once more. The Darkling felt as if he were playing a game against time again, and the question was where it would lead him. But he was certain of one thing. Aleksander would never surrender or abandon his fight. And certainly not for such a prosaic reason.

The new Regent finally rose from his chair and headed towards his quarters. He planned to speak with Alina about Zoya during their dinner, perhaps a further meeting could be arranged, one his Sun Summoner wouldn't attend. The Black General had no illusions that it would work, but he wanted to try it anyway. Everything depended on the dark-haired Etherealki's ulterior motives. By finding the key to them, he would be able to get to the bottom of the truth. And considering the arson attacks in the port, the missing Grisha, and the break-in at the laboratory, everything seemed to be shaping up as a storm approaching Ravka. And Aleksander Morozova's task was to somehow control it.

The Darkling's feet were carrying him automatically to his chamber. The closer he got, however, the more effort each step took. His limbs felt as heavy as lead. By the time he was through the door, he barely had the strength to move, for he could have sworn his vital functions had slowed drastically, as if liquid ice had been poured into his veins.

Alina was sitting in a chair by the mirror and smiled fondly at him the moment she saw him. With each passing second, however, her expression changed significantly, gradually transforming into one of pure terror. Aleksander literally dragged himself to the bed, only managing to sit on the edge of it before the images displayed in front of him became nothing but utter darkness.

Right before the cold in his body robbed him of all sensory experience, the Black General heard Alina's cry as she ran toward him.

"Sasha!"

And then the Darkling lost all hearing.

***

Long, bony fingers were absentmindedly turning the runic symbol with such skill, that it seemed as if it had been done for centuries. The action looked like it was almost mechanical, as its precision spoke of having been performed time and time again, every day, for the same purpose. The fire continued to burn in the fireplace, as the person sitting before it was constantly cold. Moving unaided was very difficult for this man, so he only did so when absolutely necessary. White bones showed through his thin, parchment-like skin. If one didn't know the truth about his identity, one might assume he wasn't a living person, but some kind of apparition. The room once again smelled of mustiness and various chemicals. The books on the shelves seemed untouched for months and utterly dusty. The sea breeze blew in through the high window in the rock wall, but it couldn't dispel the stench of age. It has permeated everything, becoming the second layer of reality.

As usual, the man didn't react when someone entered the room, carefully closing the door behind him. Quiet footsteps clattered on the stone floor, approaching him and allowing him to feel everything with redoubled intensity, as always. The universe whispered in his head, heightening his senses. There were no barriers to knowledge he couldn't cross. And he did so constantly, accustomed to feeling everything differently, understanding the essence of every living creature and every material thing.

"Sir," his most distinguished servant told him. "They have brought in more wounded Grisha. Our Healers await your command. What will you decide?"

The rune froze in its owner's thin, bony fingers. He pondered for a moment before saying in his raspy voice, "Bring a wheeled chair and take me there, Igor. They might not make it without me, so tell them to hold off until I am there," he instructed.

His butler bowed respectfully, waiting for his master to add anything more. When he didn't, he decided to relay further information.

"Sir, our men saw envoys from The Black General inquiring about us. They wanted to know where the wounded Grisha were disappearing, and how they were returning to their posts practically healed, but with memory lapses. Do you have any orders on this matter, Master? The Regent of West Ravka has really started snooping around here," Igor observed cautiously, treating any possible disposition from his master as sacred.

The owner of the bony fingers smiled faintly. Although it resembled a grotesque grimace on his face, it was the closest thing to emotion of anything his look usually betrayed. And so his servant couldn't hide his surprise and realized that things were starting to accelerate.

"And that's precisely the point, Igor, that The Black General himself should take an interest in us," the man sitting by the fireplace replied, placing his frighteningly thin hands on the armrests of his chair. "That's precisely the point."

Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:

Notes:

Hello loved ones 🖤🌺
It was a bit hot here, wasn't it?😈
I want to add that: intimacy scene was the idea of my beta, Ola, and I wrote it specifically for her - so shout out to Ola 🖤
Now you can expect way more to happen... I am curious of your theories? Who is the mysterious figure and who wants to control events in Ravka?

P. S. Check fanarts for every chapter my amazing best Friend (who is like a sister to me) made for me. I swear I get emotional every time she sends me new ones 🥺🖤
As always, thank you for your support, you are amazing 🌺🖤
Happy new week!💗
Ewa

Chapter 6: The girl with power of light, but not a power to heal

Summary:

His master froze, with his hand on the porcelain vessel, and for a second he wasn’t speaking. After a moment, however, his gravelly voice, rising from deep within his chest as if from a bottomless pit, echoed throughout the room.
"What did you do to the victims?" he asked, then grabbed the handle of his cup, raising the drink to his lips.
"What we always do, my Lord," the butler replied, bowing his head slightly. "We erased their memories."
The bony man nodded, taking a sip of tea. He held the hot liquid in his mouth for a moment before swallowing it. Only then did he speak again.
"Very well. We must be patient a little longer, Igor. Things will soon escalate in Ravka, and then we will stop this. We will allow the witnesses to the attack to speak openly about what happened," said the stranger sitting in the wheeled chair. "But not yet. Not yet. First, we'll let Makhi Kir-Taban reveal her true intentions. And only then will we see how The Black General reacts. When he's ready, we'll bring him to us," he stated, lifting his cup of tea to his lips again. "And that will happen soon," he added.

Notes:

This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

chapter4

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Aleksander didn't come here often, because the less they saw each other, the better their relationship had become. Since Luda's death, they had both gone through various stages, including barely speaking, constantly reproaching each other, or simply remaining silent because neither wanted to speak a word. They would sit shoulder to shoulder, staring blankly into the fire, though each had entirely different reasons for not speaking. Baghra tried to punish him this way, knowing how much he feared the indifference that had become her favorite method of persuasion. He, on the other hand, refused to say one word too much, lest the wall growing between them become impenetrable.

When he had been a child, the Darkling's mother had taught him strength and ruthlessness, but she had also turned those same traits into his weakness, driving him to a constant need to prove himself to her. She had wanted him to strive to erase the sin that, in her eyes, had placed him on the brink of a precipice into which either he himself could leap, or she could push him.

Baghra clearly resented him for escaping her grasp, loosening the short chain she'd bound him to. And she didn't like it one bit. Because he no longer resembled the little boy who followed her everywhere like a shadow, constantly begging for her attention. And what was most ironic was that what ultimately drove them apart was the way they both saw Grisha's future. Aleksander could endure a great deal. But he would never agree to simply sit back and watch the slow destruction of his people, while his mother seemed not to care at all.

Now, entering the cave Baghra almost never left, The Black General of Ravka mentally prepared himself for the conversation he could no longer postpone. He didn't want it, but he knew like no one else in the world that you had to keep your friends close and your enemies even closer. Meanwhile, the woman who had given him life was both. The blow could come from any direction, but her acceptance, for some reason, became a point of honor for him. The Darkling hated himself for the dependence he had allowed her to entangle him in, yet he persisted in it against all logic. And it seemed he would never free himself.

His mother didn't even react as he pushed aside the ivy hanging low from the ceiling, stepping deeper into the part of the cave where Baghra welcomed her guests. Usually, these were Grisha whom Aleksander sent here for training, but occasionally others would come, including her son, who needed to consult with her on one of his decisions. She rarely liked these choices, but she had to accept them because he was the leader of The Second Army. His mother had some special privileges due to her connections with The Black General, but he was still nothing more than a vassal of the Crown. This meant he had to obey the king's every command, and if he wanted something for himself or his Grisha, he had to resort to trickery and get it himself.

But now everything had changed. Because he had finally found her. Her name was Alina Starkov, and Tsar Pyotr had just allowed her to stay at The Little Palace. That meant that soon, Aleksander's mother would be in charge of her training, whether she liked it or not. This meeting between them had to take place, but the Darkling treated it as a mere formality. He was the one making the decisions, and she listened. Mother or not, she too served Ravka. And her sole task was to torment their people so they could learn to control their powers. The Black General would have taken care of that himself if time permitted, but he had almost none. Besides, Baghra enjoyed training others, thus compensating for their limited contact. It was best, however, that she knew Alina Starkov wasn't just another one of her playthings. Aleksander wasn't about to tolerate her animosity towards her, especially when his mother learned that her son had found his Sun Summoner. The same legendary savior of Ravka, whose concept of existence his mother so enjoyed mocking.

"What are you standing there like, boy?" Baghra said to him, without turning her face from the fire. "You rarely grace me with your visits these days, so I assume something important has happened. So stop lurking there like a cat chasing a mouse. Come in. You know it very well that I don't bite."

The Darkling felt his mother trying to re-establish a hierarchy of dependencies between them. To her, he would always be just a wayward child, incapable of making his own decisions, because the moment he had taken matters into his own hands, the black ribbon of The Shadow Fold had cut Ravka into two unequal halves. Baghra didn't fail to remind him of this at every opportunity. Whatever he did to free their kind from the shackles of slavery, The Black General only embarrassed himself in her eyes, feeling he would never satisfy her. Fortunately, now, after all these centuries, he finally didn't have to.

And so Aleksander descended the stone steps and sat down in a vacant chair facing the fire. He was met by his mother's steely eyes, which stared at him with reserve, but also superiority. It was her favorite strategy to achieve her goal: intimidation. Except that method hadn't worked on the Darkling for a long time. His mother might as well give up on it.

"Yes, indeed something important did happen, mother," The Black General replied, spreading his feet wide on the ground and resting his elbows on his knees. "But I guess you already know everything."

Baghra shook her head, smacking her lips loudly. The two usually managed to settle the matter as quickly as possible, so The Black General could leave the place before the atmosphere in the cave became unbearable and they both said their farewells in anger, as they were increasingly often doing.

"So what the wind whispers in my chimney is true after all?" the Darkling's mother asked, narrowing her eyes. "Don't forget that walls have ears, Aleksander. And there will always be someone to inform me of your evil plots."

The Darkling would probably have been furious, but her comment caught him off guard. So now his fight for Ravka was an evil plot? Well, it was time for his mother to understand that she, too, couldn't wash the blood off her hands as she probably thought was possible.

“Remember, mother,” The Black General began, leaning forward so that the heat from the flames began to warm his chin uncomfortably. “How you told me that no Sun Summoner existed? That I should stop chasing my dreams because I would never find them, just as I would never find the amplifiers our ancestor created?” Aleksander tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. “Tell me, do you remember that, or has your stubborn refusal to use your powers caused your memory to decay as it did to your body?”

Baghra clenched her hands, which were hanging at her sides, into fists. The Black General was just waiting for his mother to reach for her staff and threaten him with it, but that wasn’t why he had come here. He had a task for her, and she would fulfill it. Whether she liked it or not.

“Foolish boy,” his mother hissed at him, probably thinking he was still thirteen and impressed by her threats. “Do you think you’ve already won because you’ve found your Sun Summoner?” she asked him, her voice laced with mockery.

At that, the Darkling smiled out of the corner of his mouth.

“Indeed, madraya, I do,” he told her, not a muscle in his body moving. “Indeed, I do.”

Baghra’s expression was cold. Aleksander had won one small victory, but that was only the beginning of the war.

“What do you want from me, boy?” his mother asked him, straightening slightly.

“The same as always. You will train Alina Starkov to learn to control her powers without my help,” the Black General stated, meeting the intense gaze of her steely eyes.

Baghra looked as if she wanted to laugh. She didn't, however, because her contempt always affected her son more than her excessive emotionality. All because the Darkling, against his will, subconsciously sought her approval. And even when he learned that it would never come, he still couldn't fight the natural urge to prove to his mother that he was more than she had taught him to believe.

"So your legendary Sun Summoner can't do anything on her own?" Baghra scoffed, shaking her head dramatically from side to side. "Oh, Aleksander. Why am I not surprised?"

The Black General's blood boiled at this point. And not at all from the proximity of the hearth he sat by.

"I'm not asking for your opinion, mother, I'm giving you an order," he said, his eyes narrowing into two thin slits. "You will train Alina Starkov and you will not mistreat her as you are accustomed to. That is all, madraya. I will monitor your progress on an ongoing basis."

Baghra snorted under her breath. The momentary contempt vanished in a second. Her expression almost instantly transformed into the cool confidence that always reminded Aleksander of who his mother truly was – a cold, calculating person with a heart of stone.

"You still haven't gotten over that antics, have you, Aleksander?" she asked her son, a hint of reserve and coldness evident in her voice. "For some reason, you've got it in your head that when you finally find your Sun Summoner, she'll be your equal, and that it will quench your pathetic thirst, a thirst you know you'll never quench."

The Black General glanced away, not intending to give his mother the satisfaction. He didn't want to convince her he was a fool. Because while he didn't care about her opinion, her constant condescension brought back memories the Darkling had locked away in a distant corner of his mind, memories he didn't like to revisit unless another nightmare ripped him from sleep, never truly letting him forget them.

"People like us, naive boy, are doomed to loneliness." Now, irony played in Baghra's eyes. "No light can free you from the darkness you find yourself in. Even if your Sun Summoner were truly your equal." His mother was driving more needles into his self-esteem, stripping Aleksander from it layer by layer. "There are only you and me, Aleksander. That is how it was, how it is, and how it always will be."

The Darkling slowly rose from his chair, slowly circling the fire. He stopped beside Baghra to look down at her, stripping her of any illusions that she still held any power over him.

"Yes, mother, it's always been just you and me," he said, his voice completely devoid of emotion. Wasn't that what his mother had expected of him since he was a baby? "But now you'll make some room for Alina. Because she and I will change the world, madraya. In the meantime, you'll grit your teeth and accept it. And if you want to hinder me, remember what I can do," The Black General warned her, turning to head for the cave's exit.

He spun on his heel and took a single step forward when his mother's voice stopped him again, her next words cutting into his back like poisoned daggers.

"Oh, Aleksander. Always the idealist," Baghra whispered, knowing he could still hear her. "But that still didn't stop you from using merzost and killing all those people. Besides, do you think ignoring me will change your future? That using dark magic only harmed others and not you?"

The Darkling remained silent, but he didn't move. His hands gradually clenched into fists until the veins in his arms became increasingly visible. But his mother continued to speak. It was just like in his childhood, when The Shadow Summoner had realized he had no right to his dreams. And if he wanted to fulfill them anyway, he had only himself to rely on.

"Merzost is inside you, foolish boy. It waits, lurking, to take control of you again. And it will succeed, believe me. I saw what it did to my father. And when the darkness consumes you completely, Aleksander, no light will save you. Mark my words. There are only you and me. Or you are gone," Baghra stated, oblivious to her own cruelty.

The Black General squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to listen to her any longer. But only silence answered him. It lasted and lasted until it turned into the roar of waves crashing against the rocky shore. Their rhythmic sound roused the Darkling from his furious trance, causing him to snap his eyes open. All because of the cold that was now permeating his body, completely confusing him.

Aleksander glanced around, realizing he was sitting half-naked on a rock, his legs submerged up to his knees in icy water. He tried to move, but the force of the tide prevented him from making even the slightest movement. Every seventh wave proved higher than the rest, slamming into his bare chest and forcing its way into his mouth. The Darkling spat out salt water, shaking his head from side to side to regain his vision. The sea element gripped him, however, and the piercing cold proved almost unbearable. It robbed him of concentration, and though Aleksander wanted to use his hands, he couldn't force his upper limbs to touch. If he were the type to panic easily, he would have lost his mind. Instead, he tried with all his might to focus. He knew that if he didn't, he would die.

You seek answers here that you won't find, echoed inside his head. Move, Aleksander. Move, or you'll freeze here.

The Darkling thrashed, knowing it was his demons speaking to him again. They appeared in moments like this, when his life hung in the balance. They had no name or face, but they knew him intimately. And they never portended anything good. All they brought was pain and destruction.

Fight, Aleksander. You didn't find your answers before, and you won't find them now. You are a great hope, but also a terrible disappointment, one of his demons admonished him. Move. You know you can.

The Shadow Summoner spat out another mouthful of water that had poured into his mouth. His body was shivering more and more as the cold became unbearable, each new wave bringing another torture.

You are a great disappointment, Aleksander, his demon admonished him. But blood of your blood, bone of your bones, will not be. Consider this very seriously now, The Black Heretic. Are you strong enough to save the lives you have conceived? For them to then save you? Move, I say! Your task is to finish what you have started!

And then, despite the unimaginable agony he was now feeling, the Darkling gritted his teeth with all his might, ignoring the dull, searing pain ripping through his bones. The muscles in his forearms tensed, dancing beneath his skin like galloping horses. He suddenly opened his mouth and let out a guttural scream. His hands finally broke free, moving closer. Each inch took more effort than The Shadow Summoner could have imagined.

Excellent, Aleksander!, his demon chanted. Now go back to your place! Either you save them or you die!

The Black General lifted his closed eyelids, and a blinding light immediately spread around him like milk spilled from a glass knocked off a table. It wasn't a sinister light, though, but a friendly, inviting glow, like a return home after a long journey. White was everywhere, filling every empty space. But somewhere out there, in the distance, voices echoed.

Alina, please, stress can be bad for you.

Genya?

Stop running around like you're burned and get to work! Can't you see you're acting like useless fools?

Ivan.

What's wrong with him? Someone tell me what's wrong with him!

A strange tenderness spread through Aleksander's body, filling him with inner peace. He recognized that voice. He wouldn't mistake it for anything else in this world.

Alina.

Forgive us, Sankta Alina, but the General's condition isn't due to his physical state. It's something else, the cause of which we can't determine, said someone the Darkling didn't know, but he suspected it must have been a Healer.

Not due to his physical state?, his solnishka sounded as if she were suffering, which made The Shadow Summoner's heart clench painfully. What does that even mean?

Alina, Genya soothed her.

Stop treating me like a child, which I am not! I asked a question, and I want an answer. What do you mean, by "the General’s condition isn't due to his physical state?", his Sun Summoner brooked no argument and made it clear she wouldn't let anyone pull the wool over her eyes.

Don't be upset, my Lady, someone else spoke softly. Judging by the voice, it was a woman. The General's powers are causing his condition. It is as if the shadows he isn’t using are trying to be freed, unable to do so. Instead, they have been accumulated inside his body, causing hypothermia.

And then there was a brief silence. Aleksander would have frowned if he could. But there was nothing left for him to do but wait.

Please, everyone leave this room, Alina said after a long moment.

Alina, I don't think..., Genya began, but she didn't have time to finish the sentence.

I told everyone to leave, his Sun Summoner ordered again. That's an order from your future queen.

Alina, are you sure you don't need me?, The Tailor reassured herself.

No, Genya. You can leave. All of you can.

His precious girl refused to listen to their excuses. If she and the Darkling could look into each other's eyes, she would understand how proud he was of her now.

And then Aleksander finally felt it. A warmth so inviting that he couldn't possibly resist it. Warming and penetrating him, stream after stream, like arrows fired from a bow piercing his flesh one by one. The sensation simultaneously protected and intoxicated him. And then something jerked him forward with all its force, causing the blinding whiteness around him to shatter into a thousand tiny fragments, and the image before his eyes gradually began to take on color.

When it finally cleared, Aleksander understood what was happening to him. His gaze met black eyes brimming with tears and glistening with every emotion, tenderness and fear clearly reigning supreme amidst a kaleidoscope of other feelings. The Darkling tilted his head slightly, discovering that someone had put him high on the pillow. His gaze immediately darted to the source of warmth now placed on his chest. A warmth that undoubtedly had drawn him back to his body, which without his help could not free itself from the abyss of icy darkness.

Alina was holding both palms on his exposed torso, continuing to send waves of warming light towards him. However, when she saw The Black General attempt to rise up on the bed, she instinctively withdrew her hands, then reached for his neck, enveloping him with all her strength. A wrenching sob escaped her chest, not of despair, but of relief.

"Saints, Sasha!" his precious girl cried, sobbing into his bare skin, pressing her cheek against his. "For a moment, I thought I'd lost you!"

And suddenly, the muscles in Alina's forearms tensed unexpectedly. She recoiled as quickly as she had pressed herself against him, her eyes now filled with genuine terror.

"I'm fine, Alya," the Darkling assured her, seeing that her reckless reaction to his awakening seemed to have frightened her. The Shadow Summoner then pushed himself up onto his elbows, finally sitting upright with a pillow placed behind him. "Alina, look at me."

His solnishka did so almost immediately. The emotions etched in her eyes were constantly shifting, and after a while, fear and relief transformed into disappointment and sadness. But also into tenderness. The one she herself proudly tried to hide from him, but couldn't, because despite her disappointment, she was grateful that nothing worse had happened.

Aleksander wanted to say something, but her silence brought him all the answers he needed. Guilt made the Darkling feel a painful pressure in his chest, because even though he knew perfectly well that this moment would soon arrive, he preferred to have some control over what he said. Now all he had to do was follow through, because Alina seemed to know the truth, or at least suspected it.

"When did you do it?" his precious girl simply asked, slumping her arms and folding her hands in her lap. Tears glistened in her eyes again, but not from anger, but from disappointment.

The Black General decided to wait for his Sun Summoner to clarify her question. So that any remaining doubts between them would never again stand in their way, as they had when Alina had truly hated him, and the Darkling had tried to explain to her why she had understood nothing, allowing herself to be completely blinded by the manipulation of others and the hatred of his own mother.

"When did you use merzost, Aleksander Morozova?" his solnishka said after a moment, shattering the last of The Black General's illusions.

The new Regent of West Ravka closed his eyes, bravely accepting the blow that had just fallen upon him. He understood her bitterness, even though all he cared about was protecting his precious girl. And he would do it again, because he had sworn it to her. And for The Black General, a word once given was a bargain with himself, one he would never renege on.

"Alya…" the Darkling began, but she didn't let him finish.

She looked at him with tears streaming down her cheeks, then shook her head.

"You don't have to say anything more, Sasha. I just want to know when it happened," his Sun Summoner whispered, expecting honesty.

And honesty she would receive, though there was a risk of breaking her heart.

"Back in Caryeva," The Black General began. "We were attacked by winged monsters. And I, Alya, had only one option. Because I promised to protect you. I swore I would return to you."

His precious girl's eyes flashed with an inner light, and for a moment she seemed about to say something. Instead, she turned her head to the side, biting her lower lip.

The Darkling understood all this, because he had felt exactly the same way when he had learned how Alina had brought him back to life. And even their motivations seemed very similar. They both wanted to protect each other, while simultaneously breaking their still-imperfect trust. Therefore, whatever The Shadow Summoner said, it wouldn't repair the damage that had already been done. The initiative lay solely with his solnishka.

You are a great hope, but also a terrible disappointment, The Black General reminded himself, and an icy chill ran down his spine.

However, that feeling quickly vanished when Alina spoke to him again, not yet turning to face him.

"I knew this would happen, Sasha," she confessed in a hushed voice. There was no pain or righteous disappointment in it anymore, but sadness and resignation. The Shadow Summoner stiffened slightly, not expecting this turn of events. "Lizaveta warned me that you would use merzost again, and then our children would save you." Here his precious girl finally turned to him. Tears as large as peas were glistening in her eyes. "She foresaw it. And now I know she was telling me the truth." Alina's lower lip trembled slightly. "But I won't give up, Sasha," she assured him. "I won't lose you again. Now that I know my light can save you, I'll be by your side to pull you from the darkness." His solnishka sniffed slightly. "You won't get rid of me that easily, Aleksander Morozova. So don't try any tricks."

Her words made something in the Darkling quiver slightly. The man recalled Baghra's words, mocking the compatibility of their powers and the unity of their souls. Meanwhile, his Sun Summoner had just proven otherwise. Whatever had ailed him before, it was Alina's life-giving light that had just saved him.

"Because you mean so much to me, Sasha. I love you, and just as you want to protect me, I will do the same for you," the future queen of Ravka added after a moment, and there was no trace of disappointment in her eyes, only a silent declaration. A promise of love, loyalty, and the stubbornness that The Black General so adored in her. "But will you allow me to do this, Aleksander? Will you consent to someone taking care of you as well?" his Sun Summoner asked.

"Alina…" the Darkling began, but she turned up her nose and shook her head.

"I asked you a question, Sasha," she stated, clearly determined not to let go until she had a clear answer.

"But it's my job to protect you, milaya," Aleksander protested. "And I have no intention of ever stopping doing so."

His precious girl smiled gently at him. It was perhaps the first such smile he had seen since The Black General regained consciousness.

"Remember when you once asked me who would be there to protect me if you weren't here?" Their gazes met, and a wave of mutual understanding spread between them. "And that's why I'm asking you, Sasha. Who would be here to protect me if you don't allow me to do the same for you?" Alina slowly moved closer to the Darkling, never rising from bed. "Let my light do something not only for Ravka, but also for you." Here his Sun Summoner's hand settled on The Black General's cheek, causing him to close his eyes. "It might seem like I'm judging you for using merzost, Sasha. But I have neither the desire nor the right to do so after having done it myself. I'd be a hypocrite if I did."

Those words made Aleksander open his eyes, drowning in a sea of understanding and tenderness that everyone had denied him until now, but one person was doing it for them all.

"We'll get through this together," Alina assured him, brushing a loose strand of dark hair from his forehead. "All you have to do is let my light fight your darkness."

The Darkling didn't need to hear anything more. The only response he could offer his precious girl was a tender kiss.

***

Nearly three weeks had passed since Aleksander Morozova had lost consciousness from hypothermia brought on by the effects of merzost, which blocked his powers in his body in response to his overly intense emotions. Alina thanked all the Saints for each new day, when everything seemed as normal as before. However, she knew that the dark magic coursing through the Darkling's veins was like a silent assassin, carefully planning each attack. Therefore, The Sun Summoner resolved to always be by The Black General's side. To offer him her light, which would free him from the darkness, even if he himself refused to do so.

Alina rose from bed, seeing bright light streaming in through the window between the curtains, which hadn't been fully drawn. The thought filled her with fondness, for it reminded her of Aleksander, who let a little light into their bedroom every morning, unless he stayed up all night in his study. The Sun Summoner had long since realized that the Darkling disliked the dark. He never spoke of it, but he didn't have to. The girl loved to watch him when he thought she wasn't looking, to learn something new about him. She did this not only because The Black General continued to fascinate her, but also because to remain by his side, she had to know how best to fulfill this task. Alina didn't want Aleksander to change his ways. And certainly not for her. An old Ravkan saying went, "Don't transplant old trees." That never ended well. Therefore, she should adapt to him, not he to her. And for her, this wasn't an obligation, but a privilege. Once, the girl would have scorned even the cursory thought of being anything like The Shadow Summoner. Now, all she worried about was whether she had learned enough of him to be worthy of him.

The future queen of Ravka took a few deep breaths, placing her bare feet on the ground. She was surprised to discover that for the first time in a long time, she no longer was feeling any nausea. So she sat perfectly still for a moment, to make sure she hadn't imagined it. But her stomach seemed to remain dormant. And this would probably have filled The Sun Summoner with immense excitement, were it not for the fact that her weakness, unfortunately, had not disappeared. Moreover, each day seemed to rob her of more and more, slowly turning her into a frail reed swaying in the wind, ready to snap at every gust. There was, however, hope that her appetite might return. But Alina had no intention of getting her hopes up. The more time passed, the more she realized that Lizaveta's words weren't just the ravings of a woman whose immortality had confused her mind. It seemed that the future queen of Ravka would have to prepare for a cruel struggle to survive until the day her children were born. To hope that fate would simply spare her would be not only foolish but also utterly naive.

The situation wasn't helped by the increasingly widespread reports of social unrest along the southern border. Grisha were disappearing under mysterious circumstances, and then some of them returned with their memories erased. This couldn't have been Shu Han's doing, as they would have simply killed them. Someone else was behind it – someone whose motives drove Aleksander to the brink of madness. The Black General threw himself into work, barely sleeping. Alina visited him in his office several times a day to make sure he was okay. Since that incident, the situation seemed to be under control. But the girl was no longer the same naive idealist she had once been. She trusted no one and nothing, especially not merzost. A blow could come from any direction, so it seemed safer to avoid the cold.

The Sun Summoner had just finished dressing, pulling on her loose dress, when a soft knock sounded at the door. A quick glance at the wall clock told her it was past breakfast, which meant Aleksander had perhaps sent here servants with a light meal. Alina rose from bed and moved to the chair by the dressing table. She quickly braided her hair loosely before calling, "Come in!"

Genya cautiously opened the door, unsure if she should step inside. Seeing her, the future queen of Ravka felt a lump rise in her throat. She remembered how she had treated her friend when the Darkling had lost consciousness, and how callously she had dismissed her to be alone with Aleksander. From then on, they saw each other every morning, when The Tailor came to check on Alina, but she was silent and subdued. The Sun Summoner gathered the courage to apologize. Genya had sacrificed so much for her, and even if The Black General was all The Sun Saint could think about at the time, she should have thought more about others and their feelings. The future queen of Ravka was trying to heal the selfishness that her obsession with Mal had instilled in her heart. Now Alina had reconsidered her choices, completely cutting herself off from them. However, in critical moments, her worst traits came out, and The Sun Summoner intended to take responsibility for them.

"How are you feeling, Sunshine?" Genya asked, approaching her, holding a bundle wrapped in grey paper. Although tenderness was now gleaming in her bright eyes, there was also a distant look.

"No major changes, Genya. But for the first time today, I woke up without nausea," Alina whispered, then took a deep breath, gathering the courage to admit her mistake. “It’s nice… to see you,” she added quietly, gesturing to The Tailor to the chair next to her. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

The redhead carefully took a seat, placing the bundle on her lap. The atmosphere between her and her friend became so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"Genya... I," Alina began, then cautiously reached out, searching for The Tailor's hand. "I wanted to apologize."

Surprise flashed across The Corporalki's face, followed by obvious relief. The redhead remained silent for the time being, which signaled to The Sun Summoner that she could continue.

"You do more for me every day than anyone else. And you may think I don't notice, but know that I often ponder about it, knowing that I will never repay you for your love and kindness." The future queen of Ravka made sure her and The Tailor's eyes met, letting the latter know that she truly believed the same thing. "But when Aleksander lost consciousness... I reacted instinctively. I cared only about him, and I pushed everything else to the background." Tears welled up in Alina's eyes. "I pushed you away then, and you only wanted to help me. Forgive me. I simply remembered Lizaveta's words, and everything else ceased to matter. I wanted Aleksander and I alone because I had gotten the idea that I should keep a secret. Even from you. Even from someone who knew his condition and could be a help to me, not a burden. I'm sorry. Even though I know I did wrong, I can't promise you that if something like this happens again, I won't react like this. But know that I'm sorry. And that I will never repay you for what you do for both of us." With that, The Sun Summoner fell silent, no longer trying to control the salty streams that began to flow down her cheeks.

Tears glistened in Genya's eyes as well. She didn't say anything, simply leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her friend's neck and hugging her tenderly.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Sunshine," Corporalki finally said. "But thank you for doing this."

They embraced for a long time, before The Tailor finally pulled away from Alina first.

"I love you, Sunshine, remember that," Genya said, then remembered something as she lightly tapped her forehead playfully. "I forgot I didn't just come here to see how you were. You received a parcel again, Alina. But this time it's definitely not Zoya. Ivan looked at it ten times before he let me bring it to you."

The future queen of Ravka frowned, her heart pounding.

"A parcel?" she asked, seeing The Tailor hold the package out to her without unwrapping the grey paper it was wrapped in.

"Ivan ordered the Fabrikators to check it for any potential poison or gunpowder. But according to both Vladim and David, the parcel is completely safe. The messenger who left it, however, left no trace behind. The General would normally handle this personally, but we're all trying not to give him additional tasks, as you ordered," The Corporalki said. "David told me it was some kind of book. And a very old one at that. And definitely not of Ravkan origin."

The Sun Summoner frowned, feeling her heartbeat quicken even further. Lately, everyone seemed to take some strange pleasure in sending her things, but the thought that it was a book made her want to immediately see what she was dealing with. Only wealthy people could afford a large reading collection, and this volume hadn't been written in Ravka. No one in their right mind would get rid of such a thing from their collection, unless they had ulterior motives. But since Ivan had personally checked it, at least physically, Alina didn't have to worry about any danger. The Heartrender was too devoted to Aleksander to risk anything with the mother of his children.

The Sun Summoner began to unroll the paper. A golden-bound volume, the title written in the Shu language, appeared before her eyes. However, despite her unfamiliarity with the dialect, the future queen of Ravka immediately guessed what she was dealing with. It was some kind of illustrated religious book with beautiful pictures of Saints. Most of them appeared to be natives of Shu Han. Alina leafed through page after page until she reached the spot marked with a red ribbon. Her gaze met the piercing eyes of a man whose appearance immediately reminded her of someone. She could have sworn she'd seen this person before; she just couldn't remember where or when. But the mere sight of him filled her heart with unease. Why had someone sent her Shu Han version of “Lives of the Saints”? And why had they marked this place in the book, depicting someone so different from the others?

The engraving bore no signature, and the opposite page contained only a brief note about the illustration. The Sun Summoner couldn't decipher the ornate calligraphy, so she breathed heavily, already knowing what she had to do.

"So, what do you think, Sunshine?" Genya finally asked her when Alina had been silent for a long time, staring blankly ahead. "If it helps, David says this illustration is of someone called the Medic of Tools. Whatever that means," The Corporalki added, seeing her friend's confusion.

The future queen of Ravka was immediately jolted out of her reverie, feeling bile rise in her throat. How was it possible that she had just received a package that provided her with answers to her quest? Who could have done this, and what did they want? And why could Alina swear she'd seen this engraving before, and it certainly wasn't one of the Shu Saints, but another figure with significant religious significance for her homeland and all of Ravka?

"Alina?" Genya asked her, as The Sun Summoner paled visibly. "What's going on?"

Her friend swallowed the bile rising in her throat, knowing she had no choice but to enlist the help of someone who, while not her enemy, had never fully gained her trust. But since Aleksander considered this man his ally, the future queen of Ravka had no reason to question it. And though she wasn't looking forward to their next meeting, it was clearly time to change her mind. Because the man knew all the Ravkan Saints and their connections to other cultures. And if someone had sent Alina that book, they either meant harm or were trying to lead her to some clue. And regardless of the motivation of this stranger or group of people, The Sun Summoner had a duty to do everything in her power to follow the thread to the core of this mystery.

"I’m not sure, Genya," she told her friend, looking her anxiously in the eyes. "But I think I know someone who will give me some answers."

Half an hour later, Alina was standing before the wide, carved doors, waiting for the oprichniki to let her into a room she had only been to a few times since moving to Os Kervo. The girl took a deep breath, allowing one of the guards to lead her inside and then leave her there alone, as she had ordered. She was greeted by candlelight and images of saints displayed on wooden pedestals. Oil images of herself and Aleksander looked at her with their painted eyes, gazing regally and proudly from the largest painting placed in the very center of the chapel. Just above, colorful stained-glass windows filtered daylight through the multicolored glass, giving the place a distinctly religious feel. The scent of incense was hanging heavy in the air. All the pews were empty, as expected by The Sun Summoner, who had deliberately chosen lunchtime for her visit.

Alina gripped the book in her hands so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She knew where she should go, so she decided not to stop. Just before the chapel door, she still had had some doubts about whether she had made the right decision. However, everything told her she should follow her instincts. And so she approached the side aisle, slowing her pace only when she reached the small altar. She took another breath and tugged on the golden cord to which a small bell was attached. It began to move, emitting a rhythmic chime. After a moment, the small door swung open, and a familiar-looking face appeared. The short monk in black robes seemed unsurprised to meet her. He bowed to Alina, then left the chancel, entering the main nave.

"Sankta Alina," The Apparat greeted her, not failing to notice the book Alina was holding. His ever-watchful eyes twinkled slightly, but as the high priest of Ravka was a man skillfully in control of his emotions, he quickly reverted to his characteristic, unfathomable stoicism. "It's been a while since we met, my Lady."

The Sun Summoner nodded, then gestured to the row of pews facing the altar.

"Perhaps we should sit down, monk?" she asked, not waiting for The Apparat's response but instead heading toward the seats. "I'd like to ask you about something," she added, taking a deep breath and settling on the nearest bench.

The high priest of Ravka joined her a moment later. He waited until Alina handed him the book, telling him to open it to the page marked with a red ribbon.

"I know I've seen this engraving before in the library at The Little Palace. I just can't remember who it was. Or why, in a book originating from Shu Han, someone would label this figure as the Medic of Tools." Alina couldn't hide her frustration, perfectly balanced with a somewhat irrational anxiety. "I have no doubt you'll tell me who it is, monk."

The Apparat merely glanced at the old engraving, immediately recognizing this Saint. Without closing the ancient tome, he looked at The Sun Summoner, meeting her expectant gaze.

"You've sought help from the right person, Saint Alina," he told her, carefully studying her face. "This is Sankt Ilya in Chains, one of our first Saints and the ancestor of The Starless Saint."

The girl felt her head spin. What could this mean? Could Aleksander's grandfather and the Medic of Tools really be the same person? But what about Anmei? Why didn't The Black General know her identity or the role she played in his family's history, but instead recognized her name as a place on the map of ancient Ravka?

More and more questions, but only a few answers. The Sun Summoner tried to mask her emotions so The Apparat wouldn't realize how much this had affected her. The fewer people who knew about her search, the better. Although now the information would surely reach the Darkling. But Alina didn't mind it anymore.

"Is something wrong, my Lady?" the high priest of Ravka finally asked her, but the girl reached for the book, which the cleric reluctantly handed her, then forced a smile.

"No, thank you, monk," she told him, rising from the bench. "I just wanted to understand why that engraving looked familiar. You've been very helpful. I'm sure you have prayers to recite. I'll leave you to your duties." Alina was about to take a step toward the alley leading outside the chapel when The Apparat suddenly grabbed her by elbow, stopping her in her tracks and forcing her to look at him.

“Did I ever tell you the legend of the first Sun Summoner, my Sankta?” the priest asked her seemingly casually, sending a chill down the girl’s spine. “In Ravka, we don’t consider it credible, and besides, no Sun Saint other than you, my Lady, has ever been documented. But in Shu Han, the people there believe the first Sun Summoner was born from pure light. And then they vanished, never to be heard from again. Until finally, you appeared, Sankta Alina. Nevertheless, it’s worth knowing. For if the Medic of Tools is actually Sankt Ilya in Chains, who knows who the legend from our neighbors south of the border was referring to?” It was a rhetorical question, but it chilled Alina to the bone.

The Sun Summoner suppressed her trembling hands, clutching the tome she was holding even tighter than before to hide it from the watchful gaze of The Apparat.

"Except..." The monk spoke again, not letting the girl go just yet. "You can't create something from pure light just like that, my Lady. As long as you don't resort to means you won't read about in any holy book."

Alina paled even more, and her head began to spin.

"What are you suggesting, monk?" she asked him, fearing the answer she might hear in a moment.

But the priest's face remained impenetrable.

"Nothing, my Lady," he replied, not a muscle on his face moving. "Nothing."

***

When The Sun Summoner opened her eyes, she realized she had already been there. Not only did the tall bookcases and shelves seem strangely familiar, but the scent of the sea breeze was identical to her memory, mingling with the smell of age and something else Alina couldn't quite place, but as soon as it filled her nostrils, she knew she'd been transported to the same place again. This time, she was sitting in a simple, uncomfortable chair in front of an antique fireplace, where thick logs of wood were slowly burning. She could hear the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the rocky shore, and the violence of the crash suggested a storm was currently raging outside. When she turned toward the tall window, she discovered she'd been right in her suspicions: the sky was a deep blue, and a torrential rain was falling from heavy clouds, blurring the seascape into uneven patches of blue, graphite, and grey.

Alina shuddered, fighting back the terror. She didn't remember her visit here fondly, so all she could think about was how to escape. The future queen of Ravka wanted to jump up from her seat and head towards the ornately carved, high door. She didn't even know why this had become so important to her, but her instinct for self-preservation took over, telling The Sun Summoner that if she didn't do this as soon as possible, she would never leave this cursed place, endangering both her health and that of her unborn children.

The problem was, Alina couldn't even move her feet. They seemed glued to the floor, and the more she tugged at them, the more immobile they became. After a dozen attempts, she couldn't help but feel frustrated. Tears began to flow down her cheeks as violently as the raindrops streaming down the high window behind her. And then The Sun Summoner had another, desperate idea. She decided to tip the chair over, rocking it violently from side to side, waiting for her to fall to the ground with it, perhaps thereby freeing herself from the spell that had clearly been cast upon her. But to no avail. The uncomfortable piece of furniture didn't even budge, making Alina want to scream.

But when she opened her mouth wide, she heard something that made her hold back on this last act of desperation she still had at her disposal. Her cry literally caught in her throat as, just above her left shoulder, a cold draft of air raised the hairs on the back of her neck, and a moment later, someone with a voice so unreal that it could only belong to someone who inhabited her darkest nightmares said, "A fall like that could harm your twins, child of merzost," the person told her, then rolled forward in a wheeled chair. This stranger turned out to be frighteningly thin. They had bony fingers and thin, translucent skin. Their entire face was obscured by a low-drawn hood in a brown, ancient-looking robe. It was probably a man, as could be guessed from the sound of their voice, but also from their figure, which had nothing feminine about it despite their unnatural thinness. "You don't want anything to happen to them, do you, child of merzost?" the person asked, rolling in front of Alina and completely blocking her from the fireplace.

"Who are you?" The Sun Summoner managed to choke out, turning her frozen scream into a demand for an answer, to which she was entitled.

This person not only knew about her pregnancy, but was also calling her strange names. But she had nothing in common with the Morozovas, who were born of dark magic, not her. She merely had fallen in love with one of their own kind. And perhaps that was what this stranger, who looked more like a ghost than a flesh-and-blood human, wanted to tell her.

"I will not tell you my name until you discover it yourself. You are not here to ask questions, child of merzost, but to understand," the hooded man replied. "To realize why the children in your womb are so important not only to you, but to all of Ravka."

"Let me go!" The Sun Summoner shouted, trying to move again, but the stranger didn't even flinch.

Alina considered raising the alarm with her screams, but something told her no one would come to help her. Whoever this person was, they dictated the terms here, to which all others could only obey. And no doubt they also had helpers who would gladly obey their every command.

"I told you to be careful, lest you harm your children," the hooded stranger warned her. "And yet, you have the power of light within you, not the power to heal, child of merzost. And I want you to always remember that." Without warning, a bony hand flew toward the girl, settling itself in her lap.

The Sun Summoner couldn't bear it any longer. Without any hope of anyone saving her, she squeezed her eyes shut and began to scream.

When she opened her eyes, she realized someone was hugging her tightly, one hand on her back, the other on her neck. This person smelled familiar, like musk and the primeval forest. It reminded her of the home Alina had miraculously found herself in, having escaped the clutches of her recent nightmare. Sobs continued to escape her lips, but Aleksander ignored them. He didn’t stop to hold her close, whispering words of comfort in her ear and grounding her in reality with his presence, like an anchor she never wanted to haul aboard again.

After a while, the spasms finally subsided, and The Sun Summoner decided to show the Darkling that nothing was wrong with her anymore. So she reluctantly freed herself from his embrace, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. She took a deep breath and then looked into the black eyes of The Black General. She saw sadness and terror there, so boundless that she was immediately assaulted by remorse. But worst of all was the helplessness emanating from Aleksander. Whatever had happened earlier, his solnishka had frightened him beyond measure.

"Sasha," Alina told him, reaching for his face to brush a loose strand of hair from his forehead. "I'm fine. Forgive me, please."

His obsidian irises flashed with a thousand emotions. But The Shadow Summoner tried to control it.

"What's wrong, milaya?" he asked, then stroked her cheek. "You were screaming so loudly. And I couldn't calm you down. You literally didn't react to anything, and only when I hugged you did you seem to wake up."

The last thing the future queen of Ravka wanted was to add to Aleksander's stress over something that wasn't even real. Until she knew what this meant, she would spare him the sensations that could have led to his hypothermia. Besides, it was just a dream. And one that made absolutely no sense.

"It's just a nightmare, Sasha," she informed him, running her thumb through his neatly trimmed beard and enjoying the sensation. But then The Sun Summoner glanced around, seeing that she had clearly fallen asleep in the middle of the day. The Darkling, instead of working, was sitting next to her, apparently with good reason. "But what are you doing here so early, Aleksander?" she asked, frowning slightly. "Is something wrong?"

The Black General was clearly pondering something. He must have concluded, however, that she wouldn't leave him alone until he revealed the reason for his presence. Therefore, he decided to answer her question truthfully.

"I've heard that you went to visit The Apparat," The Black General stated after a moment, a worried look filling his black irises. "I know you try to avoid him as much as possible. So, Alya, what happened that made you go talk to him? Do you have some problem I should know about?" he asked, cupping The Sun Summoner's face in both hands and turning it towards him so he could look her straight in the eyes.

Alina opened her mouth to answer him. But then she felt something in her lower abdomen that made the future queen of Ravka literally freeze, unable to believe this was happening here and now, as she and Aleksander was sitting so close, experiencing this moment in each other's presence.

One of their children stirred in her womb, offering her a barely perceptible kick.

***

Aleksander had expected an answer to his question, but the moment he saw the expression on Alina's face, everything else momentarily ceased to matter. Her eyes shimmered with various emotions, surprise gradually giving way to tenderness. The Darkling didn't understand the reason for her sudden silence, but he knew it had nothing to do with their conversation. So he waited to see what would come, seeing his Sun Summoner finally relax, and the tear that slipped from beneath her eyelid proved to be a sign not of pain or despair, but of joy.

"Can you feel it too?" his precious girl suddenly asked Aleksander, and he watched her carefully, waiting to see what she would do next, perhaps to intervene.

The man frowned, feeling anxiety rising within him.

"What do you mean, milaya?" The Black General asked her, but he didn't have time to ponder it further, as Alina reached for his hand, placing it on her belly.

"Shhh..." she whispered, though her voice trembled slightly. "Wait a moment. Now," she said in a barely audible tone. "Can you feel it, Aleksander?"

The Darkling froze. For the first time since his Sun Summoner had confessed to him that she was expecting their children, he truly felt what it meant. A delicate movement, more like the brush of a butterfly's wings, could be felt beneath his fingertips, along with the barely perceptible tingle of energy from the nature-born power he had imparted to his twins. There was no longer any doubt that the Morozova legacy would be written in their blood, as it had been for himself, and Baghra before him. Little amplifiers were growing in his precious girl's womb. A miracle, but also destiny. Something Aleksander feared most in the world. Fearing he wouldn't be able to protect his children. That he would make the same mistakes his own mother had made before him. That he wouldn't be able to face himself when he did.

But now, with a lump in his throat, the Darkling made that same promise to himself again. That no matter what happened, he would protect them – them and Alina. And he wouldn't let his trauma harm them in any way. He would teach them the art of survival, but also to understand that someone would always be there for them. That they could always count on him. That they wouldn't be alone, as he always had been. And that he would kill anyone who even touched them. That it would be a cruel and slow death, and The Black General would make sure others understood that they should never even think of harming his family.

"Sasha..." Alina's voice finally broke him from his trance, and he reluctantly tore his gaze from his hand, where the gentle touch of power tickled his palm again. "That's one of them," she whispered, causing their gazes to meet. His precious girl had tears in her eyes. "I still can't believe it happened to us."

Aleksander wasn't sure what he looked like at that moment, but in his Sun Summoner’s presence, he didn't have to fear weakness. Besides, how could he call something that had become his greatest strength and fragility? Only a fool would dismiss such a thing. And if creating something new were to be considered a mistake, then he would turn it into his greatest success.

"Neither I am," he replied to Alina, adding nothing more.

No words could describe that feeling, and The Black General naturally tried to be very sparing with them. Not because it was a deliberate effort on his part, but because when he spoke honestly, something simply blocked him. Besides, no human words could convey either the wisdom of the ages or the pain they carried. Declarations were made carefully, to keep those promises and nourish them day after day with one's own determination. Actions spoke volumes more than any beautiful speeches. And Alina knew it. The silence between them meant more than anything else, and neither of them expected it to ever change.

After a moment, the movements of one of their children finally stopped, but the Darkling still didn't withdraw his hand. He did so only when his Sun Summoner moved away slightly to place her hand on his cheek for a change.

"Sasha? You wanted to know why I went to see The Apparat…" his solnishka said, returning to the conversation they had both interrupted.

The Black General's senses immediately sharpened, transforming into the predator he was by nature, especially when it came to things he considered important. Alina removed her hand from his face, then leaned back to open the drawer of her nightstand and pull out an antique-looking, gold-bound book. She then handed it to the Darkling.

"Open it to the red ribbon and tell me who this is," she asked, waiting for the Shadow Summoner to fulfill her request.

Aleksander frowned at her, but followed her instructions, seeing that the volume he had been handed was of Shu Han origin, dating back to when The Black General was still a child. The cover stated that the book dealt with the beliefs of the southern people. When the Darkling found the marked place, he had to admit he hadn't expected it. An engraving of his ancestor was captioned "The Medic of Tools," presenting him as one of the subjects of Shu Han legends.

"Someone sent this to me, Sasha. The messenger disappeared before anyone could find out who sent it. Ivan examined the package and found it safe. But since I asked not to bother you with things that could wait, I went to see The Apparat, as Ilya's likeness seemed strangely familiar to me," Alina said in a hushed voice. "I don't understand any of this. Why was it my turn to see it? And if so, why did the sender conceal their identity?" his Sun Summoner asked Aleksander, as worried as he was.

The Black General narrowed his eyes, never stopping looking at his ancestor. The Darkling's real name was no longer a secret, but someone seemed to be playing some kind of psychological game with both him and his Little Saint. This someone knew the new Regent wouldn't bow to blackmail, so they were trying to keep him off balance for now. But what interested The Shadow Summoner were the motives behind this person's actions. Someone was clearly instigating new conflicts in Ravka and trying to stir things up practically simultaneously, so that Aleksander Morozova's attention would be divided, and he himself couldn't engage in the protection and independence activities as much as he wanted. But the Darkling wasn't able to extricate himself from such hopeless situations anymore. Moreover, when The Black General discovered the truth, his revenge would be even bloodier.

"I don't know, milaya," he finally replied to Alina, slamming the book shut and clutching it so tightly that the ancient cover almost shattered. "But if Lantsov Puppy has anything to do with this, he'll regret it bitterly."

***

Several days had passed, and for The Black General of Ravka, they were definitely not wasted time. Aleksander had managed to send scouts all over the coast, hoping to find some trace of Zoya Nazyalensky. Unfortunately, the address where The Squaller had been staying turned out to be a dead end. If the dark-haired Etherealki woman was working for Nikolai, they had prepared well for this mission. But they had forgotten one very important thing. Once again, they had underestimated their enemy, which would sooner or later come back to haunt them. Because the Darkling would find this traitor. And it was only a matter of time before that happened.

Besides, the investigation that had already been conducted had yielded very useful information. Someone had used a hidden trapdoor in the laboratory floor to access the former mine shaft. Because so many antidote samples had disappeared simultaneously, Aleksander immediately suspected the involvement of another Grisha. As Vladim suspected, it must have been the Tidemaker, because for them, converting a liquid into a gas, which could then be contained as compressed air in a small space – like a glass jar – which would make it easier to transport, posed no significant challenge. Interestingly, it wasn't the finished antidote pills that had disappeared, but rather the semi-finished products. It was as if someone cared about the material to be processed, not the final product.

The investigation had revealed that the Darkling's suspicions had been confirmed. One of The Tidemakers who had defected to him after Nikolai returned The Second Army to his command must in fact have been a traitor still loyal to Zoya. Aleksander knew he would find this individual and personally bring them to justice. The same fate would befall The Squaller, who clearly considered herself cunning enough to evade him.

Now, however, as he was heading toward the guarded section of the palace, The Black General planned to address another pressing matter, one he had been postponing for now. But since Lantsov Puppy was trying to establish the rules of the game without consulting him, the Darkling would show him how attempts to fool him ended.

Before the closed door guarded by four oprichniki, Ivan was already waiting for him. His Heartrender bowed to his commander, waiting for him to approach. Aleksander placed a hand on his Corporalki's shoulder in greeting, then motioned for the guards to let them pass. One of them unlocked three locks and then opened the door for them. The Black General entered the spacious room, followed by Ivan, immediately attracting the attention of the man sitting there.

Magnus Opjer was kept in normal living conditions due to the reason he had been imprisoned here. The Fjerdan had not committed any overt betrayal of Ravka, and his status had nothing to do with being a prisoner of war, but solely that of a political one. Therefore, he was kept in good condition, and his room was equipped with all the necessary amenities.

The blond man's face bore traces of obvious surprise at the visit, as the Darkling had not graced him with his presence since his arrival. Aleksander sat down in one of the armchairs opposite the Fjerdan, waiting for him to put down the book he'd been reading. Ivan positioned himself behind him, ready to assist his commander if necessary.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Opjer," The Black General greeted him, resting his arms comfortably on the armrests and giving Nikolai's biological father a long look.

Magnus remained suspicious, but it seemed he was prepared to confront the reason for the Regent of West Ravka's visit to one of his prisoners. He leaned back in the armchair, resting his hands on his stomach.

"General Kirigan," the blond man returned the greeting. "I must admit, I was beginning to lose hope of ever seeing you again."

The Darkling ignored this remark, instead maintaining intense eye contact with his interlocutor.

“I’ve been using my real name for a while now, Mr. Opjer,” he told him, tapping his fingers slowly on the armrests in a steady rhythm.

The Fjerdan flinched slightly, but hid it well. This man was well-versed in courtly etiquette and therefore knew how to disguise himself well. Especially since The Shadow Summoner remembered him from his past, when he had been still an emissary from Djerholm. He still retained a considerable amount of courtly manners and the ability to effectively manipulate words for personal gain.

"In that case... General Morozova," the blond said after a moment, straightening up a bit. "How can I help you?"

Aleksander mentally scoffed at his embarrassing megalomania. He didn't mention it aloud, however, as he had no time for games and had come here with a specific purpose. Besides, other duties called him, so it would be much quicker to skip the details and get to the point.

"I’m not sure how much you know, but your son is getting in my way," the Darkling stated casually. "It's no secret that for years you blackmailed Tatiana Lantsov with a certain scandal, and even though everyone at the court in Os Alta knew about your affair, there had to be more to it." The Black General studied Opjer's face intently, like a cat clutching a mouse, trying to torment it.

The blond held his gaze, feigning incomprehension.

"I don't know what you're talking about, General," he assured him, still looking the Darkling straight in the eyes.

Aleksander leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between himself and the Fjerdan just a little. The air in the room grew thick and stuffy. Magnus had tiny beads of sweat on his forehead, but his posture effectively masked the fear he must have felt.

"I know you have something in your possession that could be of use to me, Mr. Opjer," The Black General told him, his voice as calm as if he were having a friendly chat with a good friend. "And I know you intended to use it to blackmail your son, as you had done with his mother, but you were later captured and your plans were thwarted."

The blond man feigned ignorance again.

"Unfortunately, you're making things up, General Morozova. I'm sorry I can't help you, but I really don't know what you want from me," the prisoner of the Darkling denied, as if sinking further into the back of his chair.

"There's one thing I really dislike, Mr. Opjer," The Shadow Summoner commented, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Namely, when someone tries to make a fool of me. One would think that now that Nikolai is king of Ravka, you could do him no harm, which suggests your blackmail has lost its purpose. The bastard ruler is already on the throne, and his illegitimacy is insufficient to disqualify him. Unless there's something more, Mr. Opjer." The Black General raised a hand to his mouth, then began tapping his lower lip with his index finger in feigned absentmindedness. "What made you wait so long until your son was on the throne to begin blackmailing him? And that you were certain the stakes allowed you to ignore the risks?" The Darkling lowered his hand, placing it next to the other one in his lap, and interlacing his fingers.

The blond changed his strategy slightly, seeing that his excuses were beginning to lose their appeal. Still, he maintained a last pretense, trying to buy himself some time to think. He had clearly convinced himself he was untouchable because he was being kept here like a canary in a gilded cage. He was very wrong, though, but his time hadn't come yet.

"General Morozova, really, those are just your insinuations," Opjer insisted, shaking his head cautiously. "You desire revenge so much that you allowed it to blind you."

Aleksander smiled faintly at the corner of his mouth. He resembled a predator stalking its prey, knowing its days were numbered.

"Then you should pray to your Djel that I may be even more blinded by it, Mr. Opjer," The Shadow Summoner stated, his eyes turning into two thin lines. "Because that's why you're still alive." Magnus shuddered slightly, and the Darkling knew he'd found a chink in his perfect armor. "But I'm curious of something else. Why does Nikolai also seem interested in your well-being, when your death would solve many of his problems? And it's certainly not about filial love. Not that I question it, Mr. Opjer, but you understand." Aleksander cocked his head to the side, studying the Fjerdan's face from a different angle. "Now, tell me why your son tolerates this."

The blond man feigned indignation.

"General, I beg your pardon!" he denied, to which the Darkling raised a hand, signaling Ivan who was standing behind him.

"He is lying, moi Soverenyi," The Heartrender said in his typical, emotionless voice.

The Shadow Summoner raised an eyebrow at him, receiving in response the sight of even more beads of sweat beading Magnus's forehead.

"I don't like being underestimated, Mr. Opjer," he told him in a hushed voice that sounded even more menacing than his normal tone, as it carried the promise of danger. "Also, when your compatriots held you captive, for some reason they didn't kill you either. This leads me to believe your value is higher than you might think. The same goes for your son. Everyone seems to treat you like an object of special care, when you're potentially nothing. What's your secret, Mr. Opjer?" Aleksander flexed his fingers until the faint crunch of his knuckles could be heard.

For the first time, the blond stopped denying. He remained silent, waiting for The Black General to deal him the next blow that would ultimately destroy him.

"I, Mr. Opjer, have no such qualms. If you don't cooperate, I'll gladly spare you the agony and take your life." Though the Darkling's tone remained conversational, it was impossible not to guess where he was heading. "Besides, you're more valuable to me dead. And do you know why?" The Fjerdan still said nothing, but the sweat on his brow was becoming increasingly visible. "Because I stand to gain so much more from your death. For the exact same reason Nikolai is determined to keep you alive."

The Fjerdan stared at the floor, clearly pondering something. The Black General decided to give him a little more time by shifting his position and leaning back comfortably against the back of the chair so he could carefully study the subtle changes taking place in his prisoner.

Finally, Opjer broke the silence. He looked at Aleksander and replied, "Fine, I agree to speak. But I want to buy my freedom with it."

The Darkling raised an eyebrow at him, genuinely amused by his request.

"No," he simply replied, adding nothing more.

"General Morozova, but what will you achieve with my death?" Magnus pressed. "You will gain nothing from it, and the information I possess is far more valuable."

The Shadow Summoner's eyes again narrowed into two thin slits.

"I have The Heartrender here with me, who will extract the information I need from you before you die, Mr. Opjer," he said, re-establishing eye contact with the blond.

But he had to admit he hadn't expected anything like this. An irrational confidence, completely unwarranted in his situation, was etched on the Fjerdan's face.

"I must disappoint you, General Morozova, but unfortunately, you won't succeed," the blond stated calmly. "You can stop my heart at any time and check if I'm telling the truth. But what I don't want to reveal to you, you'll never extract from me, for a very simple reason, which I'll gladly explain to you." Opjer gripped the armrests, trying to prove he shouldn't have been ignored. "A few years ago, I arrived on my ship at The Wandering Isle, where, due to unfortunate circumstances, I was taken prisoner. Miraculously, I escaped with my life, but not without damage." Magnus fell silent for a moment, and the Darkling narrowed his eyes, sensing he wasn't particularly pleased with this tale. "I was subjected to a certain procedure there, General Morozova. And even if you brought an entire army composed solely of The Heartrenders, you wouldn't find anything in my memory that I don't want to reveal." With that, the blond man tilted his head slightly to the side, revealing the nape of his neck beneath his long blond hair. A small, pinpoint scar was visible there. "On The Wandering Isle, they know how to remove something from the heads of their prisoners and soldiers so they don't reveal confidential information unless they consent. But you probably already know that, General Morozova," the Fjerdan added.

The Shadow Summoner narrowed his eyes. He was, of course, familiar with the customs of the inhabitants of The Wandering Isle. They delighted in opening the skulls of Grisha, seeking the source of their power there. Aleksander realized that this problem had been escalating in recent years. The situation wasn't helped by the fact that Ravka didn't have a particularly good peace treaty with them, a matter the Darkling intended to address once he took over the entire country.

"I still don't see why I shouldn't kill you, Mr. Opjer," The Black General stated, snapping out of his momentary reverie.

"Because I'm worth more to you alive than dead," Nikolai’s father informed him in a voice that held a note of confidence. "Because if I die, a certain document will be declassified at the Ravkan court. According to my agreement with Prince Vasily, it was given to his men as a guarantee of my inviolability."

The Shadow Summoner was a bit surprised, but he still had complete control over Opjer, though he clearly believed he was calling the shots. However, the Fjerdan was wrong in his assumptions. Very wrong.

"Vasily Lantsov is dead," The Black General informed Opjer, leaning forward again and narrowing his eyes slightly. "Unfortunately, your story doesn't add up."

"Yes, he is. But the agreement between him and me still stands, General Morozova." Magnus fell silent for a moment, trying to attract the Darkling's attention as he intended. "As you correctly pointed out earlier, the fact that my son is a bastard is not enough to deprive him of the throne. But what if Nikolai is unable to have children? You know how that will end, General Morozova. A free election will be announced, from which you will be excluded, as the crown can only fall to you if my son dies," Magnus continued. "A few years ago, Nikolai contracted a condition we call masculitis. The same one that causes our faces to swell, but the disease can also be spread to the other parts of body, and my poor son had the misfortune of losing the chance to deliver an heir to the throne due to a long and arduous battle with fever. He was examined by the court physician, who even signed a document confirming this. This report, however, inadvertently fell into my hands, General Morozova. Tatiana thought I would protect Nikolai, as he was, after all, my child, but I had other plans for him." Opjer took a deep breath, melting under the Darkling's icy glare, and continued. "Prince Vasily didn't want my son to ascend the throne. Nikolai wasn't entitled to that right, but the Lantsov eldest child preferred to play it safe. That's why he entered into an agreement with me, thanks to which Nikolai would have survived, but he would have been our powerless puppet, fearing a scandal that would have completely discredited him among his subjects. For this reason, when my son ascended the throne, I immediately reminded him of myself. I revealed the truth about the document to him, guaranteeing myself a long and prosperous life. If Nikolai had wanted to kill me, the royal council would have declassified the document. This would have involved holding a free election, and as you know, that's a very unfortunate option for you, General Morozova."

The Darkling had to admit to Magnus that, of all the cunning otkazats’ya he knew, the blond was one of the smartest. And indeed, the Fjerdan was right. Ravkan law mandated a free election if the heir to the throne hadn't produced offspring within ten years of his coronation. Nikolai had obvious motives for doing so. In such a case, keeping Magnus alive would indeed be the better option. But only until The Black General sent his scouts to Os Alta to try to steal the document. All that remained was to find out who had it. Everyone in the capital knew The Shadow Summoner had the Fjerdan under lock and key. If he got rid of him, everything would be revealed very quickly. And Aleksander Morozova couldn't allow a free election, the risk of which was enormous for a ruler who was not only a bastard, but also someone with whom the history of the Lantsov family would inevitably end.

"You are determined to seize the throne, General Morozova." Opjer's voice again snapped the Darkling out of his momentary reverie. "And only by keeping me alive will you finally achieve it. Therefore, I offer you cooperation. My life in exchange for loyalty to your cause."

Aleksander again felt like laughing, but instead raised an eyebrow at his interlocutor. Then, without a word of warning, he rose from his seat and approached Magnus with the stride of a predatory cat. He stood over him, receiving the expected shiver of fear from the Fjerdan.

"I don't have to cooperate with anyone, Mr. Opjer," The Shadow Summoner told his blond prisoner. "I'll get that document, and then you'll die. So if I were you, I'd enjoy the time you have left. Thank you for the tips; they'll certainly save me time." With that, the Darkling turned on his heel and, with Ivan at his side, headed for the exit of the comfortable cell where he held the father of Lantsov Puppy.

***

The door to the small room with the fireplace and a tall window overlooking the coast creaked open softly, and a slender, middle-aged man, dressed in dark robes and carrying a wooden tray of food, marched in. A teapot of tea and a single porcelain cup were placed on platter, along with a hot bowl of vegetable soup, still steaming from its surface. The man was tall and had salt-and-pepper hair, and the agility with which he was moving suggested that he had been tending the estate on the rock for a very long time.

The stranger set the meal down on a low table, arranging everything so that he could lead the frighteningly thin man in a hood sitting in a wheeled chair opposite the fireplace to finally eat something. The person didn't even react when his butler entered the room, as always only seemingly present in his frail body, but in reality, his thoughts were wandering far away. The servant approached his lord without a word, then grabbed the handles of the movable chair, pushing the master of the house towards the table with the dinner waiting on it. Only after he had placed the chair opposite the tray of food did he step back and walk around the table so he could look his leader in the face and hear him clearly.

"My Lord," he said, seeing a bony hand reach out towards the teapot to pour himself a cup of tea. "The winged monsters have attacked again. This time, they have advanced further north, as if the attacks near Caryeva weren't enough for them."

His master froze, with his hand on the porcelain vessel, and for a second he wasn’t speaking. After a moment, however, his gravelly voice, rising from deep within his chest as if from a bottomless pit, echoed throughout the room.

"What did you do to the victims?" he asked, then grabbed the handle of his cup, raising the drink to his lips.

"What we always do, my Lord," the butler replied, bowing his head slightly. "We erased their memories."

The bony man nodded, taking a sip of tea. He held the hot liquid in his mouth for a moment before swallowing it. Only then did he speak again.

"Very well. We must be patient a little longer, Igor. Things will soon escalate in Ravka, and then we will stop this. We will allow the witnesses to the attack to speak openly about what happened," said the stranger sitting in the wheeled chair. "But not yet. Not yet. First, we'll let Makhi Kir-Taban reveal her true intentions. And only then will we see how The Black General reacts. When he's ready, we'll bring him to us," he stated, lifting his cup of tea to his lips again. "And that will happen soon," he added.

adch4

Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:

Notes:

Hello loved ones 🖤
What can I say? I would love to see your predictions, hehe. I think it may be easier now, but it doesn't mean you will be given the answers on silver platter. I will torment you a little more. I love to add details to the plot as story progresses 🖤
As for Nikolai: it is historically correct what I made here, I do care for accuracy and in his case... well, situation is not easy (him being bastard is one thing, but him not being able to product a heir to the throne is another and serious one, especially that his royal blood is not pure). In modern ages his disease is called "mumps" and it causes infertility in case of men if they suffer from it as adults. First cases were described by Hipocrates, so this virus has a very long history 💓
I love you all so much, thank you for all your support 🖤🌷
Happy new week!
Ewa
P. S. Check arts under "He'll Be Back for Her", I uploaded them all.
I love you Ola 💓

Chapter 7: The Man with a Curse in His Blood

Summary:

Aleksander looked away slightly, letting melancholy take over.
“Do you really think she chose him?” he said, more to himself than to his Sun Summoner.
His solnishka was silent for a moment before finally speaking.
“What do you mean, Sasha?” she asked, gently turning his face back to her.
The Black General smiled sadly.
“I have had… multiple siblings, Alina,” he confessed, finally meeting her gaze, his eyes gleaming with inner pain.
His Sun Summoner paled.
“You mean Ulla?” she asked cautiously, not wanting to push him too hard.
Aleksander shook his head at that.
“Ulla is the only one who was immortal and who can still be alive,” he replied, remembering the only three times he had seen his half-sister. “The rest of them were either otkazats’ya or ordinary Grisha, and they died long ago, Alya.” The Darkling suppressed his longing, knowing that negative emotions could evoke merzost and thus frighten his precious girl again.
Alina felt as if her heart had broken. She wrapped her arms around his neck and then snuggled against him.

Notes:

This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

War demands sacrifices, foolish boy, so if you've decided to play it, consider who you're sacrificing.

Aleksander was sitting staring into the fire, occasionally adjusting the glowing pieces of wood with a long poker. He felt Baghra's gaze on his face, as if burning a hole in his skull. She was deliberately silent, though he, too, had no desire to talk. He didn't really know why he'd come here, since, as always, he'd expected criticism. This time, however, the weight of The Shadow Summoner's heart felt heavier than usual. He hadn't expected his mother to understand or comfort him. He'd long ago learned not to react to the deaths of his soldiers; otherwise, he couldn't fulfill his role. But sometimes – very rarely – the Darkling needed to hear that it hadn't been in vain. And since he had no one else who knew him so well, he came here, to the cave, simply to be silent and sit, staring into the fire.

Sometimes it helped, sometimes it didn't. Today, however, Aleksander wasn't sure he'd done the right thing. It had been a long time since he'd lost so many Grisha like it had happened this month. Sealing the border with Fjerda had claimed more lives than he had initially thought. But the Tsar wouldn't even listen. It was one of the conditions for the building of The Little Palace. And as soon as his men had fully moved within those walls, The Black General had begun to feel the consequences of the Tsar's generosity firsthand. It flowed into the blood and lives of the Grisha dying on the front. Usually, their deaths were a necessary evil, easily justified by the greater good in the balance of costs and benefits. But sometimes, when darker days approached, the burden became so heavy that Aleksander simply choked with guilt. He woke at night drenched in sweat, gripping his hair and tugging at it in frustration.

For someone like him, who suffered from insomnia, losing even that small amount of sleep was like a curse written in his blood. But his demons never slept. They didn't care whether the Darkling could endure this mental torment or not. And it was in moments like these that he felt weak. Then his legs carried him to this cave, where he was subjected to other tortures. Accusations from his own mother, who delighted in tormenting him and blaming him for causing it. The problem was, he'd half-expected it. He'd wanted someone to force him to be realistic. Before his heart turned to stone, Aleksander would have been running from guilt. Now, however, he sought it out himself. It sobered his mind and showed him that the weight of responsibility had a more powerful effect on his mind than a bucket of water poured over his head. It helped him to grit his teeth and continue with his duties instead of murdering the Tsar with his bare hands, thus leading to uncontrolled bloodshed.

Suddenly, Aleksander almost flinched as his mother's voice finally broke the silence between them.

"Are you just going to sit here like a pillar of salt, or are you finally going to tell me why you came here?" Baghra asked him, her gaze still burning a hole in his skull.

The Black General quickly recovered and, still clutching the poker, looked up at his mother sitting opposite. Her face hid her typical indifference, emerging from behind the crackling flames.

"I didn't know I needed permission to come to a place I personally rule, madraya," the Darkling replied, then began shifting the poker from one hand to the other, seemingly lost in thought. "Since when have you been in charge of The Second Army? Remind me, if you please, for I seem to have forgotten," he added, feeling his defenses come to life against his will.

The person he'd spent eternity with, the one who should have been closest to him, always tried to bruise his ambition. On the one hand, it worked perfectly, as Aleksander did everything he could to prove himself to her, but on the other, it brought out the same little boy in him who had let her twist his wrist whenever he hadn’t met his mother's expectations.

"This is your gratitude for keeping you alive, you ungrateful fool?" Baghra replied, narrowing her eyes at him. "And even now, you're hiding again, seemingly feeling untouchable enough to forget who knows the whole truth."

The Darkling felt something boil within him. He knew Baghra would never betray him, as she had nowhere else to go. Besides, though she hated to admit it, her fate now depended on her son. When you willingly gave up your own powers, you became dependent on someone who could protect you. And Aleksander had given her far more than she deserved. He not only tolerated her moods, but also gave her something to do that justified her stay at The Little Palace. But Baghra was impossible to please. Hell would freeze over before she could praise The Black General for anything he himself had ever done.

The Shadow Summoner's hand froze, and his knuckles turned white from gripping the poker with such force.

"Are you threatening me, madraya?" he said, narrowing his eyes at her, just as she had at him a few seconds earlier. "Both you and I know these are empty threats. Otherwise, you would have tried such tricks long ago. So perhaps you'll finally refrain from using such cheap methods that haven't worked on me in at least four hundred years," he added, before throwing the poker to the ground, making it bounce off the rocky cave floor with a loud clang.

But his mother wouldn't let up. She always had to have the final say, otherwise she'd never accept defeat.

"So why did you come here, boy?" she asked him, placing her hands on the knees of her long black skirt. Her thin fingers gripped the rough material like the claws of a predatory animal. "You appear here like a ghost, and I never say a word. You sometimes stay here for a good dozen minutes, and then leave without a word, even though you won't exchange a single word with me. Usually, it doesn't impress me, because if you don't want to talk to me, that's even better. But today I see you're in a pathetic state. Just like when you were eight years old and still tried to believe in something like compassion. But you've outgrown that now, so you won't be able to make me regret anything you brought upon yourself." Baghra's voice was calm, but each subsequent word felt like poison slowly seeping into the Darkling's bloodstream. "So if you don't want to tell me what brings you here, then don't waste any more of my time, boy. One of your charges should be here soon, so they can finally learn something."

Aleksander stiffened slightly, letting rage fill him from within and give him the strength to resist his mother's domineering nature for the umpteenth time, because The Shadow Summoner had long since stopped counting them.

"You have only one task, madraya, nothing more. To help the Grisha brought here master their powers. And you don't even want to do that properly. You call me the lazy boy, but you've already become completely lazy yourself, and all you want to do is do nothing," The Black General said through clenched teeth, trying not to give his mother the satisfaction of knowing her rejection was driving him mad.

"Am I not doing it properly?" Baghra hissed at him, instinctively reaching for the cane placed beside her stool. "You bring ever younger children here, and then expect miracles. Perhaps you'll start training infants soon, what do you think? Your megalomania and greed truly are unmatched, Aleksander."

This was too much for the Darkling. Carefully controlling himself, the man slowly rose from the stool and began to casually walk around the hearth. He stopped beside his motionless mother, looking down at her.

"These children are doomed to die, madraya. And you know it well," The Black General said in a hushed voice tinged with menace. "I can't find them all at once. But when they reach the right age, they undergo the necessary tests. Some don't even live long enough to save them. And you're not here to ask questions, mother. Only to follow orders. They are your kin, whether you like them or not. And it's your duty to care for your own." While it wasn't meant to sound like a threat, only a complete fool would fail to understand the message this order conveyed.

Baghra could insult him all she wanted, but Aleksander wouldn't abandon his mission just because she expected it of him. His mother was selfish. She cared only for her own interests, and that's why they grew increasingly distant. She liked to reproach her son for creating The Shadow Fold and remind him of the blood on his hands, yet her indifference was even more dangerous. The Darkling suspected that Baghra was deliberately prolonging Grishenka's training, and his army was losing more and more soldiers daily. To effectively manage such a formation, one had to be aware of the manpower at his disposal. Meanwhile, the mother of The Shadow Summoner tried to assert herself even in something she couldn't grasp.

"No, that's your responsibility, foolish boy, not mine. Need I remind you why we're here in the first place, and by whom?" his madraya mocked him. "You convinced yourself you'd right the wrongs you'd brought upon us all. Perhaps I'd even fall for your redemption, but all you care about is power. Is this your grand method for freeing all the Grisha, Aleksander? And ending all wars?" Baghra sneered, putting her son's self-control to a powerful test.

The Shadow Summoner donned a mask of cold calculation. His black eyes met his mother's steely ones as he decided to put an end to her attempts to seize control. The Darkling wasn't old enough to allow himself to be confused. And either his mother would understand, or their relationship would deteriorate even further.

"Squandering human life comes easily to you, madraya. I couldn't count how many people you've killed with your own hands, trying to whitewash yourself. You, too, have blood on your hands, but unlike me, you didn't do it for others, but solely for yourself. This war must end someday. And for that to happen, individuals must be sacrificed so that others can escape alive. But you make me sacrifice far too many of those individuals. How does that fit with your principles, Mother?" The Black General narrowed his eyes at her, looking down at Baghra with a sense of disappointment and frustration. "Where is this redemption you prophesy will never come to me? Do you think all the deaths you've committed will suddenly be forgotten? Especially since you refuse to fight for our cause? For a war in which Grisha die daily so that generations of them can finally be liberated?"

For a moment, Aleksander thought his mother would rise from her stool to show him that he himself had never truly grown up, so if he wanted to measure himself against her as an equal, he should remember that he would never have made it here if not for his madraya, which had allowed him to survive in this world for far too long.

But Baghra didn't move. Perhaps she meant to show her contempt? Her superiority?

"War demands sacrifices, foolish boy, so if you've decided to play it, consider who you're willing to sacrifice. Instead of saving yourself, you want to save others, but in the end, the world will still call you a monster, Aleksander," his mother said, smiling cruelly at him. "Because in the end, only the individual counts. The crowd will always reject you, naive fool. Instead of surrounding yourself with a handful of trustworthy followers, you aim higher, driven by greed. And in the end, you will pay for it. Because not only will the world curse you, but you will never find your peace. And do you know why, Aleksander?" Baghra's eyes flashed with cruelty. "Because you don't deserve it."

The Black General blinked, staring at the letter in his hand. His gaze remained focused on one of the final sentences, causing rage to spread through his veins at a painfully slow pace. The Darkling remembered not to let his emotions get the better of him. Otherwise, he could bring trouble upon himself, and upon Alina, who seemed to follow him almost like a shadow when she thought he wasn't looking. If they hadn't lost their tether, this would have been much easier for both of them. But on the other hand, Aleksander probably couldn't work in peace while his Sun Summoner checked on him every few minutes.

For someone like The Black General, who had never known another person's concern, this experience was something new in his centuries-long life. He didn't know how to handle it. How to show her his gratitude without simultaneously rejecting Alina. He was aware of his limitations and the fact that he couldn't change them. But the warmth in his chest that Aleksander felt whenever he realized someone cared about him filled him with a peace that at least partially erased the void The Shadow Summoner had carried within him since he was a child.

But now, the Darkling's thoughts focused on something else. On that damning sentence at the end of the letter The Black General had received only an hour ago.

War demands sacrifices, General Morozova. My question is, are you willing to make them?

Aleksander felt like crumpling the paper into a ball and throwing it to the ground. Although he had sent the correspondence to Empress Leyti, the reply he had received wasn't entirely hers. It was her deposed granddaughter who had replied to his letter, demanding an explanation, leading the Darkling to assume that either Makhi had somehow intercepted the mail before it reached her grandmother, or that the Queen Mother had already been formally removed from power. Although none of his spies from Ahmrat Jen had reported such an incident so far, The Black General knew that the situation between Ravka and Shu Han was becoming increasingly tense. Aleksander's immediate task was to determine the current power structure among their southern neighbors and whether the throne had been quietly transferred to Leyti's eldest granddaughter as a result of a coup. In the case of the Shu, maintaining state secrets had always been their highest priority. The Darkling intended to send further spies south to investigate the actual situation on the throne in Ahmrat Jen, not as international opinion was led to believe.

However, this wasn't Aleksander Morozova's only concern. He was also occupied by the contents of correspondence sent by Makhi Kir-Taban. The ruler informed him that if Ravka continued to accuse them of arson, even a marriage to Ehri might not be enough to prevent the Shu Han from responding to the allegations. Leyti's eldest granddaughter advised The Black General to exercise restraint in assessing the situation until an international investigation had been conducted. However, The Shadow Summoner knew perfectly well what such an investigation would entail. Not only would they attempt to conceal the truth, but it would also lead to further tensions.

Therefore, The Darkling intended to do it his way. He planned to determine the exact identity of the kidnappers through his contacts. It might take him a long time, but Aleksander had his people in the criminal underworld. Above all, he had them among the pirates. These men worked for him, posing as one of their own. If the Shu Han arsonists were regular hired criminals, they would have left some trace in the circles they moved in. If, on the other hand, they had undergone specific military training, tracking them down would be even easier. Even the mercenaries had some sort of personnel file, since they always started out the same way. Although no documents had been found on their bodies, there must have been people who had contact with them, with whom these criminals had stayed. So the Darkling ordered their portraits drawn and began asking questions about criminals throughout the port. Makhi Kir-Taban might have thought she had won this battle, but The Black General would be the one to win the entire war.

The letter didn't require a response from him, as it represented a formal statement of opinion regarding the unrest in Os Kervo, represented by the Shu Han side of the conflict. To take further steps, the new Regent should ascertain Empress Leyti's involvement. Accepting Makhi's proposal would likely entail expressing either consent or opposition to someone who was technically a usurper. And that would generate far more problems than benefits, especially since there was still the matter of Lantsov Puppy. Aleksander held a powerful bargaining chip in his hand, but he couldn't stop the marriage process with Princess Ehri. The Shu Han side would consider this a formal insult and an invitation to war. The Shadow Summoner would use his knowledge of the young king's intimate problems later. Opjer was right; the Darkling had nothing to gain from announcing a free election. Only Nikolai's death gave him the right to the throne of Os Alta, according to the terms of his regency. Except eliminating Lantsov Puppy wasn't an option for now – not when that blond fool had become engaged to a member of the royal family from south of the border. Aleksander had to wait out this period of confusion and then move on to his goals. That was, of course, if the war with Shu Han could be averted at all. Because there was still a risk that the conflict would break out before their pathetic king could slip the ring on Ehri's finger, officially declaring her his wife.

The Black General had already placed the letter angrily on the edge of his desk when a knock sounded at the door. Expecting Alina, who had come to check on him, The Shadow Summoner straightened in his high chair, taking a deep breath. Then he closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. It took him a few seconds to calm his breathing and return to his usual cool reserve. And with that, the realization returned that this couldn't be his precious girl. Because she would simply enter, as she always did, rather than wait for his official permission.

Therefore, Aleksander didn't wait any longer. He placed his hands flat on the counter in front of him and called, "Come in!"

Ivan marched into his office, his pace so quick it was almost a jog. The Darkling frowned at him, as his Heartrender rarely showed any signs of haste. The Corporalki was a man of few words, but also of few gestures. His Colonel stopped opposite his commander, bowing his head. Aleksander gave him permission to speak, carefully studying his face.

"Moi Soverenyi," Ivan greeted him, his gaze sliding quickly along his figure, apparently checking on his General's well-being.

Finding no abnormalities, The Heartrender was ready to report. The Shadow Summoner knew Alina had a hand in this. When she couldn't personally check on the Darkling, she had enlisted others working closely with him to do so for her.

"Any problems, Ivan?" his commander asked, frowning a bit.

The Corporalki nodded slightly, and Aleksander straightened himself in his chair.

"Sir, we've just apprehended one of the survivors from Caryeva. He was wandering around our walls, trying to get inside," his Colonel informed him without unnecessary detail, but he didn't need to embellish anything for The Black General to already understand the urgency of the matter.

“Is he conscious?” Aleksander wanted to know, remembering that all reports mentioned cases of memory loss.

The Heartrender nodded.

“Yes, sir, fully conscious. Just extremely exhausted. But I’ve ordered our Healers to tend to him while we speak. If you’d like to see him, sir, the unfortunate man should be in somewhat better shape by now, so you can question him freely,” Ivan explained, waiting for the Darkling’s decision.

“Is this someone serving in The Second Army?” The Shadow Summoner committed every detail to memory, trying to devise a strategy for interrogating a man who had arrived in such poor condition.

"Yes, according to the documentation he had on him, he's one of our Squallers from the Caryeva outpost. His details match the name and surname the survivor himself gave us. Besides, Fedyor recognized him too. Apparently, they met when the boy first arrived at The Little Palace," The Corporalki informed his commander.

Aleksander narrowed his eyes even further, leaning back in his chair and thinking hard about this unexpected revelation.

"What's this unfortunate man's name?" he asked Ivan, wondering if he might have remembered him for some reason.

"Pyotr Gorsky," his Heartrender replied, aware that the Darkling had an excellent memory for faces, and that if someone served in The Second Army long enough, they had a chance of being remembered by their General.

And indeed, the Shadow Summoner seemed to recognize him. He was a good soldier and exceptionally persistent, as working on outposts near the border always required. And now it turned out that Etherealki had traveled all the way here, battling extreme exhaustion. And despite reports of survivors with erased memories, he somehow seemed to retain it. This fact alone made Pyotr a unique case. One that The Black General should have dealt with personally.

Aleksander nodded to Ivan, needing just one more piece of information before he went to interrogation.

"Where did you place him? Was he alone? Have you managed to extract any confessions from him yet?" the Darkling listed, waiting for his Heartrender's report.

"The Squaller is in the infirmary, moi Soverenyi," his Colonel replied. After a moment, he added. "Gorsky arrived alone, on a very exhausted mount. It's possible he traveled continuously for many hours. I initially planned to conduct a basic interrogation, but I remembered your orders, sir. If we managed to apprehend someone with a memory intact, they should be interrogated directly by you."

The Shadow Summoner nodded, then pushed himself away from the desk with his hands, rising from his seat in one fluid motion.

"Let's not delay, then," his commander told Ivan, and began to walk briskly toward the corridor exit. "Let's see how Pyotr is doing."

A few minutes later, with The Heartrender at his side, Aleksander entered the palace infirmary, dodging the oprichniki who were parting before him. On one of the beds in the center of the room, a young darkhaired man with long hair tied low at the nape of his neck was sitting fully erect. The red-haired Healer examining him turned her head toward the newcomers, bowing to her commander. She moved away from the bed, retreating to the group of other Grisha, composed mostly of Corporalki clad in red kefta, when the Darkling stopped just beside Gorsky, who tried to leap from the bed, but Aleksander stopped him with a wave of his hand.

"Moi Soverenyi," Etherealki greeted him, clearly embarrassed by his condition.

The Black General pulled a chair up to his couch, and Ivan positioned himself behind him.

"Lieutenant Gorsky, I see you're already in better shape than I was told," The Black General began. "I have a few questions for you before I allow you to fully recover."

The Squaller bowed his head to Aleksander, ready to report to his commander.

Everyone else except Ivan quietly left the infirmary, knowing they hadn't been given permission to participate in this conversation.

As the door closed behind the last of them, The Black General made eye contact with Pyotr, then, leaning slightly in his chair, asked, "Tell me, Lieutenant, how did you end up here?"

"I came straight from Caryeva, moi Soverenyi," Gorsky began, then coughed briefly, covering his mouth with his hand. Once he had calmed down, he resumed his story. "I only made one stop along the way, knowing you'd been asking about all the mysterious disappearances from the outposts along the Sikurzoi, sir. My immediate commander ordered us that if anything like that happened, we were to try to get to the coast, as that was the order your scouts gave us."

Aleksander nodded, allowing The Squaller to continue.

"My squad and I were patrolling the forests two kilometers from our post when we were suddenly attacked by winged creatures," The Etherealki said, and all of the Darkling's senses sharpened. "They broke up our chapter and carried off several of our men, but they also left several of the wounded to die there, among the trees. I was one of them, sir."

"And?" The Black General pressed, though he kept his voice low to show his soldier that he was under no pressure.

"And before I could crawl to my horse, I saw someone carrying away the wounded, moi Soverenyi," Gorsky explained, a shiver running through his body. "But I decided to stick to the instructions you gave us, sir. If any of us managed to escape alive, we are to try to get to Os Kervo at all costs."

The blood in Aleksander Morozova's veins turned to ice.

"Did anyone else manage to escape?" he asked Gorsky.

The Squaller shook his head at this.

"No, moi Soverenyi."

It was clear the young man was uncomfortable with this, so the Darkling nodded slightly to Ivan, who quickly and discreetly reassured him.

"And those who took away the wounded, Lieutenant Gorsky?" The Shadow Summoner asked, looking the now somewhat calmer Etherealki man straight in the eye. "Who was that?"

The young man shook his head cautiously.

"Unfortunately, I don't know, sir. I was careful not to be seen, and since I barely crawled to my horse, I didn't get a good look at them," the dark-haired Squaller stammered.

Aleksander suppressed a twinge of disappointment, but didn't let it show. His officer was merely following orders from above. And his escape proved to be of paramount importance, as it brought with it information that had so far remained unconfirmed.

"There is one thing, however, moi Soverenyi…" Pyotr began after a moment, and The Black General's attention immediately focused on him. "They weren't the inhabitants of Shu, sir. I could have sworn they were ours."

The Darkling stiffened, his eyes narrowing slightly. Although he had suspected third parties were involved in the act of stealing the wounded and then erasing their memories, the knowledge that his suspicions had been confirmed seemed to add new details to the image forming in his mind. Another problem on his list was beginning to take shape. And it was up to The Black General what he would do next.

***

Her small, bare feet were quietly moving across the wooden parquet floor, which was uneven and creaked slightly with each step she took, while she was dragging her rag doll along the way. It was the middle of the night, and the house was uncomfortably cold. This, combined with the sounds of a loud conversation coming from downstairs, woke the beautiful, chubby brunette from her peaceful sleep, startled by the sound of her parents shouting at each other. This didn't happen very often, so their nervousness began to rub off on her. For some reason, her father had forgotten to light the fire, and despite the thick duvet Alina was under, her legs were freezing and she felt like crying.

Now all she needed was a hug. But her parents seemed so absorbed in themselves that they didn't hear her descend the stairs, clutching the banister. One of her hands desperately grabbed onto the balustrade rungs as her tiny feet were climbing the steps, a seemingly impossible task for someone as small as her. The doll was bouncing obediently on the wooden surface, clutched in her tiny hand. Alina was growing increasingly frightened. She didn't like the screams, and lately she'd been hearing them more and more often. Was it because of her? Why was her mommy angry with her daddy, who, as usual, had acquiesced instead of coming to read her a bedtime story, as he always did?

When the girl finally reached the foot of the stairs, she began to walk forward, drawn by the disturbing sounds toward the kitchen. On the way, she passed the fireplace, where the fire had long since burned out, but neither of her parents seemed to react. Someone threw dishes to the ground, and then the sound of breaking glass echoed. A feminine wail followed it, but not out of violence, but rather desperation.

"We have to move again, Dimitriy? How many times has it been this year?" Alina's mother complained, clearly speaking through her tears. "Do you think I asked for this? You simplify everything, as always, don't you? But it's not my responsibility!"

The girl felt her heart pound in her chest, and she began to cry. But she knew she shouldn't interrupt her parents when they were arguing. Mommy hated it very much, and afterward, she didn't speak to her or her daddy for days.

"Remember what Master ordered you. Don't blame me for something that isn't my fault, Anna," her daddy replied quietly, calm and composed as always. "Your family has received a lot of money to compensate you for this sacrifice. Twelve years, Anna, and you'll be free. Then Alina will be old enough for me to take care of her myself. But now she needs a mother. And I can't do it alone, because my job is to keep you both alive."

The girl's mother burst out laughing, but it sounded as if she were doing it through tears.

"Like you did with her? Didn't she die in your arms, Dimitriy? And isn't that precisely why we're here now?" the woman lamented, her voice laced with intense emotion. "I can't pretend as well as you. Have you seen what Alina does when no one is looking? Have you seen that light between her fingers that she likes to play with when she stands on the stool by the window?"

Her father remained silent. The little brunette sobbed quietly, hiding behind the half-open kitchen door. She peered inside timidly, seeing the silhouettes of her parents in the dim light of a candle burning on the table. Her mother was standing with a dishcloth in her hand over the shards of porcelain scattered across the floor. Her father's shoulders slumped slightly, and he was staring at his feet, as if he couldn't find the words to express what he was feeling.

"Alina's too young to forbid her something which lays in her nature, Anna. Wait a few years, and then she'll understand it better. For now, we have to hide her so that people who want to hurt her don't find her," her father said quietly. "Besides, it's dangerous for any Grisha not to use her powers. We can only hold her back until she's eight or nine years old. Then my daughter would pay with her life."

Alina sniffed quietly, wiping her nose with her small, chubby hand. Her heart was pounding harder, and fear crept into her heart. What was her father talking about? And why wouldn't her mother agree with him?

"Grisha!" her mother hissed, angrily throwing the dishcloth onto the table. "I don't understand why your Master was so insistent that the woman who would raise Alina be an otkazats'ya! All the money in the world isn't worth that, Dimitriy! How can I care for something I don't understand? How can I give her the care you demand of me?"

The girl's lower lip trembled harder and harder. Tears tasted salty and now filled even her mouth. Her mother was frightening her more and more. Why was she screaming louder and louder, telling her father all these terrible things?

"Calm down, Anna, you'll wake her up," her father hushed her, gentle and calm as always. "She's my child, and it's my duty to protect her. The Master always knows what he's doing. He said the day will come when Alina will change the fate of this world, but until then, we have to look after her. Do you think I'm thrilled about these constant moves? Unfortunately, we have no other choice. If we don't want to be recognized, we have to make sure people don't ask us unnecessary questions. Ravkans don't trust the people of Shu Han. Both you and Alina have alien-looking facial features. This exposes us to constant surveillance. I'm only doing what's best for my daughter. And you, I remind you, made a vow to the Master. And you don't do it for free. I don't expect you to love me or her, Anna. But you are to show her tenderness and care. That's your only duty," her father reminded the girl's mother, neither shouting nor moving to calm his wife, who was clenching her fists, her face flushed.

"She's a freak, Dimitriy!" her mother shouted again. "And anyway, what am I even talking about? You're one too!"

It was the first time Alina's father finally showed any emotion, with rage clearly dominating.

"Don't you dare talk about my daughter like that, Anna. Next time you do, I'll leave, taking her with me," the girl's father warned his wife. "And then I wouldn't want to be in your shoes. You may not be Grisha yourself, but you know the terms. The Master expects you to fulfill them. Therefore, either you do what you agreed to, or you stay here, and Alina and I will move further south. You need to choose. And I'm warning you, Anna, think carefully before you make any decisions."

The girl's mother was about to reply to her father, but their daughter couldn't bear it any longer. The chubby brunette stood in the kitchen doorway, sobbing loudly.

"Daddy," she whimpered. "I'm scared."

Her father seemed flustered as he shot his wife a furious look before rushing to scoop up his little Grishenka. He cradled her head against his chest, trying to soothe her.

"Hush, my little princess," he whispered in her ear, stroking her tear-damp hair. "Don't be scared, my Alina. Don't be scared, Anmei."

The Sun Summoner awoke from the fitful slumber she'd fallen into moments earlier, still clutching the book someone had sent her, searching for more information about the first of her kind. Unfortunately, she had been unsuccessful. It seemed The Apparat might be the only one who knew more than he was letting on. But the mere thought of the future queen of Ravka going to him filled her with dread. Was it because the monk deliberately concealed the truth to allow Alina to come to her own conclusions? Or perhaps it was because the priest possessed some secret knowledge that should never see the light of day?

Now, however, the girl had a different concern. Tears welling up behind her eyelids began to spill down her cheeks, perfectly capturing all the emotions she was currently experiencing. This dream, or rather nightmare, seemed too unreal to be real. Moments after waking, The Sun Summoner tried to recall all its details, but something seemed to block her from doing so again. Whatever it was – the trauma or the painful past – Alina couldn't recall anything more than what she'd dreamed of. She realized she'd suppressed the identity of her parents to quell the guilt caused by their deaths. But something was troubling her now. The way her father had addressed her mother. As if the future queen of Ravka wasn't her child at all. As if the woman named Anna had merely adopted her under some agreement, the details of which The Sun Summoner didn't know, but which filled her with horror.

It seemed, however, that her husband was also a Grisha, which surprised Alina greatly. She had a few hazy memories after she'd gotten older, and she didn't remember her father ever using his powers. Moreover, he had agreed with his wife's opinion that his daughter should stop summoning her light. It was as if something had happened between the scene in the kitchen and the moment when the girl had grown older and, against her parents' orders, had been sneaking out to the meadow to play with the fireflies. What that could have been, Alina had no idea.

Though she'd long since come to terms with the loss of her loved ones, the realization that she'd been living a lie had caused her more pain than The Sun Summoner could have imagined. But even if the woman the future queen of Ravka had considered her mother had actually turned out to be a complete stranger, would it have made any difference if those people were already dead? And her father... Her father's name was Dimitriy. Unless, of course, one believed this memory, which didn't necessarily have to be of herself, but of someone else entirely. But why would Alina even dream of another person? Someone who also bore the same name as her and possessed the power to summon the light? What was the likelihood of such a possibility? Very low. It was out of the question. Especially since the faces in the dream were the same as in other images from the past that The Sun Summoner had encoded in her memory just before she had decided to throw them away.

And why had her father called her Anmei? What could that mean for her? How did this connect her to the Morozova family? Or was it a simple coincidence? A mere similarity of names? But then again, how slim was the chance of such a thing? Was Alina really so afraid of the truth that she convinced herself of things she knew hadn't appeared in her life by accident?

The future queen of Ravka sensed that the truth was hidden within her memories. But their gradual unraveling was painfully slow, bringing with it much unnecessary stress and anxiety. Or could it be sped up somehow? Perhaps there was some key to connecting the scattered shards of information, piecing them together into a coherent whole?

And then Alina felt a cold wave of understanding wash over her. Why hadn't she checked this out sooner? Perhaps she should ask Aleksander about it. And so it was time to see what he was up to. Several hours had passed since The Sun Summoner had briefly seen him at dinner. The Black General had looked the same as always, though his thoughts had been clearly preoccupied with a thousand other things. Alina didn't want to push him too hard, but she still hadn't recovered from the events of three weeks ago. The only thing keeping her from lingering in the Darkling's study was the awareness that she herself was exerting an invisible pressure on him. Keeping a low profile wasn't easy for her, but she knew she had to be somewhat overwhelming for Aleksander. Therefore, she had asked his close associates to help her. And to do it very discreetly. Thanks to this, Alina could at least partially justify it to her conscience. Not that it helped her much. But it didn't hurt to at least try, to get rid of the guilt.

In truth, The Black General wasn't the one who could come to the aid of the future queen of Ravka. But he could confirm whether The Sun Summoner was indeed right. And that was enough to determine whether any of the girl's suspicions were true. And if not, perhaps time would bring some answers.

So Alina got out of bed, forgoing her kefta. Lately, she preferred to wear just a dress, as the extra clothing restricted her movement. Her simple black and gold gown was loose and didn't cling too tightly to her already slightly rounded belly. The future queen of Ravka quickly braided her hair and, without further ado, followed her intuition. The girl covered the short distance between their private chambers and Aleksander's study in a matter of seconds. Her hand pressed the doorknob without hesitation, and a smile spread across The Sun Summoner's face. Unfortunately, it almost immediately turned to surprise. It wasn't The Black General at all who was sitting at the massive desk, but Ivan, who looked up from his papers.

Alina quickly regained control of herself, as it so happened that The Heartrender was the person she wanted to share her doubts with, besides the Darkling. But first, she was interested in another matter: where the man she loved was.

The Sun Summoner then quietly closed the door behind her and calmly approached the desk, constantly observed by Ivan. She stopped opposite him, placing both hands on the desk and smiling faintly at him in greeting. The Corporalki bowed to her with something that could be called respect. Ever since Alina had restored balance by destroying the void and then assisting The Heartrender in administering The Summer Palace in the new Regent's absence, The Shadow Summoner's favorite soldier had developed a kind of detached respect for her. This feeling had been further strengthened when Aleksander had been wounded and brought to Os Kervo. For some reason, Ivan had begun to view his future queen differently. The girl preferred not to be overly optimistic, but she accepted it with considerable relief. She knew the Darkling treated his Colonel practically like a brother. And while this certainly didn't affect their relationship, the knowledge that she and The Heartrender were no longer at each other's throats all the time would surely please The Black General more than he would let on.

"Sankta Alina," Ivan greeted her. "What a surprise. The General went with Fedyor to the stables to check the potential effectiveness of our cavalry."

The Sun Summoner sighed inwardly, suspecting Aleksander must have been feeling well since he had left the palace. So the girl sat down on one of the chairs, deciding not to waste the opportunity, since The Corporalki was the one she intended to talk to anyway.

"How is he feeling?" she asked, leaning back comfortably against the back of the chair. Her weakness was increasing almost daily. The Sun Summoner was resting much more, as the life burgeoning within her seemed to be draining her of every last ounce of energy.

"There's no reason to worry for now," Ivan replied, trying to gauge if that was all she wanted. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Alina hesitated for a moment. She wondered if The Corporalki would mock her, as he had in the past? Or perhaps she should wait for Fedyor, who always seemed to like her, and she considered him a friend.

Except that the future queen of Ravka no longer feared anything. How could she ever ascend the throne if she internally shuddered at the prospect of confronting the man who, after all, was on her side? No. Ivan was the most powerful of all the Heartrenders she knew. Therefore, he seemed the most suitable person to test her theory.

"To be honest, you can actually help me with something," Alina said, making eye contact with The Corporalki. "As a Heartrender, could you force me to remember something I've repressed?"

Ivan seemed a bit surprised by the question. He frowned, carefully studying The Sun Summoner's face.

"I could force you to confess something you still remember," he replied after a moment, trying to find the reason for the girl's question on his own. Apparently unable to find it, Aleksander's favorite Colonel added after a few seconds. "Or something you deliberately want to hide from me. However, the things you've forgotten remain beyond the reach of not only The Heartrenders, but also all other Grisha and otkazats’ya. Can you imagine what would happen if an army possessed such an ability? It would then be unstoppable, and all state secrets would suddenly cease to exist, Saint Alina."

The future queen of Ravka seemed a bit disappointed, but she didn't really have high hopes. Solutions weren't handed to her on a silver platter. Some things had to be earned, while others came with time.

"Additionally, it's very dangerous," The Corporalki added. "The General would never agree to this, and besides, as I said, it's impossible."

The Sun Summoner bit her lower lip, staring at her hands resting in her lap. Her thoughts were racing through her head at an incredible speed, circling between various theories that had already sprouted within her. Was it possible that someone was controlling her memories? Why was she suddenly recalling things she had previously repressed?

Ivan clearly noticed that something was happening to her, so he frowned, staring intently at her. Although she continued to examine her hands, she could feel the intensity of his gaze.

And this was only confirmed when The Heartrender spoke again, "Why do I feel like you still haven't told me everything?"

Alina raised her gaze to him, deciding to be truthful. The Corporalki would never allow Aleksander to deliberately suffer. He wasn't the manipulative or deceitful type either. Quite the opposite. His honesty and straightforwardness could be lethal.

"Is it possible that The Heartrender can control someone's thoughts?" she asked Ivan, bluntly and openly.

The frown on his forehead deepened even more.

"Why such a question?" He wanted to know, realizing that Alina was probably the only person his commander wouldn't forgive for poking around in her head and examining her intentions.

Besides, it could endanger her health. And the Darkling would never accept that. They might be close, but no one had the right to touch his family.

"I think someone is manipulating me from a distance," The Sun Summoner confessed, and The Corporalki's eyes widened in shock.

"What? That's impossible," Ivan replied curtly, suddenly becoming his usual self, unapproachable and intolerant of fools. "For that to happen, that person must be physically very close to you. And by close, I mean a distance of a few meters at most. And only if The Heartrender is very powerful," he added, narrowing his eyes slightly.

Alina frowned, feeling her heart pounding wildly in her chest. So it had to be something else. Something more personal, because the person manipulating her knew her better than she might have thought.

"If I were you, I'd go to David." Ivan's voice snapped The Sun Summoner out of her brief reverie. "He knows about these things, and if anyone can help you, it's him."

The girl had to admit he was right. She rose from her chair and nodded at The Heartrender.

"Thank you," she said simply, walking around the chair and heading directly for the exit.

She was about to leave the office when a gruff, "You are welcome, Sankta Alina" sounded behind her.

The girl froze for a moment, completely taken aback by The Corporalki's words. However, she quickly regained control of her emotions, knowing what kind of person Aleksander's favorite soldier was. With him, it was impossible to impress him with anything you did. His respect was hard to earn. And over time, The Sun Summoner had learned to appreciate it.

A few minutes later, Alina was knocking on the lab door. After determining the cause of the break-in, necessary changes had been made to prevent further incidents. David and Kuwei had returned to their previous duties, as had the other Fabrikators. Now, however, the room was almost deserted, and aside from The Durast, hunched over his notes, no one else was there.

"Alina," her friend said as the girl slowly approached him before he could rise from his chair. "It's good to see you. Please, sit down."

The Sun Summoner gladly accepted his offer, glancing at the notes spread out on the table.

"Are you busy? Can we talk for a moment?" she asked, seeing David set his quill aside, completely losing interest in his work.

"Is something wrong?" The Durast tried to read her expression, but she immediately reassured him with a warm smile.

"No, you have nothing to worry about. I simply have no one else to turn to with this dilemma.” The future queen of Ravka became more serious, realizing that her friend was her last remaining idea on how to decipher this riddle without The Apparat's involvement. "Ivan told me that the Heartrenders can't influence someone's thoughts from a distance. I wonder…" Alina paused, seeing the concern in David's eyes. "Is there any other way?"

The Durast studied her face carefully, trying to read something from it.

"Is there a reason you ask?" he asked the future queen of Ravka cautiously, as he never liked to interfere in anyone's affairs.

"I've been having... strange dreams," The Sun Summoner confessed, feeling a chill run down her spine at the mere mention of the man in the eerie room. "And since I can't think of anything else, I thought it might be merzost." Alina realized how unlikely her theory seemed, but the more she thought about it, the more she couldn't shake it.

That thought kept returning to her, along with the mention of Anmei and the first Sun Summoner. Nothing seemed to make sense here, yet it all seemed to fit together seamlessly. A certain pattern in which the Morozova family came to the fore, like everything else in the life of the future queen of Ravka.

A look of genuine surprise flashed across David's face. Not the kind of shock that accompanied those who learned something incredible, but the kind that could be combined with impression that someone understood so well something they had just asked about.

"Honestly…" her friend began, frowning slightly. "If Ilya Morozova's diary is to be believed, such a connection would be possible through a tether. The same as…"

Alina smiled, knowing that The Durast still didn't like to talk about it. He still blamed himself for what had happened when Aleksander had put the collar on her, even though The Sun Summoner now saw it all differently, sometimes agonizing over whether she couldn't have stopped it all much earlier, if only she'd listened to The Black General.

"I know, David," she assured him, the anxiety now filling her from within having a completely different origin. "Except that the tether between Aleksander and I has been lost. Does that mean..." She trailed off, perhaps afraid her suspicions would be confirmed.

"Theoretically, creating a tether is possible either through blood or through amplifiers. If we assume – and we already know it's true – that the children you're expecting, Alina, are the same as their father, then in theory they could serve as a kind of gateway, opening this type of connection between you, as their mother, and another person directly related to them," David explained, rubbing the back of his neck with obvious embarrassment. "In theory, of course," he added.

The Sun Summoner froze, somewhat stunned by this information. She knew that neither Aleksander nor his mother, who had died over a year ago, had tried to deceive her. Did this mean there was someone else related to this family? Or were they dealing with someone who was a living amplifier? Did Ilya Morozova's creations go beyond the cases their creator had openly mentioned in his notes? Or perhaps no one knew the true scale of this phenomenon? And why did the future queen of Ravka think this was somehow connected to the first Sun Summoner?

Suddenly, Alina realized something that didn't fill her with optimism at all. It looked like she would have to meet with The Apparat after all. But first, she would give herself a few days to think it over.

***

The settlement they'd reached yesterday was situated directly on the shores of The True Sea. It was inhabited almost entirely by fishermen, but among them were Grisha, who were always easy to spot if you knew where to look. Baghra immediately identified his own kin, who kept to themselves, forming something of a small, closed community. His mother explained that their people did this to protect themselves, because living on their own made them easy targets for both the otkazats’ya and the increasingly bold Fjerdan raiders from north. They had been welcomed by the elderly Alkemi, who, in exchange for herbs his mother had gathered at the foot of the Sikurzoi during their endless journey, agreed to house them for a few nights until the fishing boats returned from their long haul and Baghra could trade with the fishermen for a supply of smoked fish that would sustain them both until she and Aleksander moved further inland.

From the spot where they stopped, a beautiful view stretched out over an empty sandy beach. Waves were lapping peacefully against the shore, and the sky was almost cloudless as the boy was walking alone along the water's edge, letting the cold salty liquid wash over his feet. His mother instructed him to look for amber that might have become entangled in the seaweed that thickened the sand, washed deep inland by the force of the recent storm. Aleksander held a long stick in his hand, carefully raking the green slime to every side. Every so often, he bent down to pick up a small orange-brown lump tangled in long, green, plant hair, and then tucked it into a pouch hanging on a leather strap from his slender neck.

Amber was of immense value, especially in the eastern part of the country. In Os Alta, artisans and merchants bought it, crafting elegant ornaments for the royal family themselves. It was eagerly exchanged for new clothing and food, and since it was already time to gather funds for the winter, Baghra had deliberately made a detour to spend some time in the bay. She herself would disappear aimlessly for days, sending Aleksander on long walks. At the same time, she would explain to him what to do in case of danger. He always had a small knife in his pocket, with which he should cut himself if anyone tried to kidnap him. The drüskelle had no interest in injured children, as they held no value to them. Although the boy could already summon his shadows, they were useless as a source of protection for now. Baghra claimed it would take him a long time to learn how to form a shadow cut. For now, he was to always be ready to stab himself. They had even practiced this once, when his mother enlisted the help of a Healer friend. She had forced her son to plunge the blade directly into his thigh to see what possessed him to do so. It was no easy task for a six-year-old. Aleksander had been ashamed of the tears that had been streaming down his cheeks before his trembling hand finally inflicted a deep wound on himself. Although his mother's friend had quickly healed him, the event changed him forever. It had robbed him of a part of his innocence, something he hadn't known he possessed until he finally lost it.

The boy had just bent down to retrieve a large amber nugget hidden among the fucus when he heard the sound of a child's conversation. Aleksander quickly hid his find in his pouch, not wanting to be an easy target for someone who, like him, might be sent to the beach with the same task.

And he was right. The three children he had seen upon arriving at the settlement were now walking towards him, chatting in hushed tones. He knew they were Grisha, like him, because his mother had instructed him on how to recognize them. Although none of them would dare use their abilities around adult otkazats’ya, Aleksander could sense their true nature, perhaps linked to what flowed through his veins. Baghra called this their family's curse. As a living amplifier, the boy had received a gift he hadn't asked for. His mother, however, had warned him not to let anyone touch him. He didn't know why, but he understood that defying his mother never ended well for him. And it was precisely because of this that he decided to choose the only option left to him.

"Hey, you stranger," the tallest boy in the group called out to him, causing Aleksander to turn to face him, because even as a seven-year-old, he knew that the best way to avoid trouble was to face it head on.

Those who cowered only risked more persecution. It was safer to allow themselves to be insulted and then leave when the tormentor finally grew tired of their victim.

"Who let you wander around here and take things that didn't belong to you?" asked the second attacker, shorter in stature, but somehow more cruel than the first. "Get out of here, you bastard."

Aleksander froze slightly, clenching his fists. He might be seven, but he could take care of himself. They wouldn't steal from him that easily. And when his mother found out, she would punish them.

The boy felt uneasy, though, because he'd never heard any of his peers call him that. But that couldn't mean anything good. Not when his tormentors' words were laced with contempt and a desire to exclude Aleksander from their little community.

"He probably doesn't know what that means, Yurii," said the only girl in the group, who looked about nine. "Look how surprised he is. He'll start crying any minute. Maybe we should tell him?" the thin brunette asked, crossing her arms over her chest and glancing at her companions from under a curtain of long, dark lashes.

"Actually, why not, Svetlana," the first of the tormentors stated, a smile curling out of the corner of his mouth. "You little bastard. Where's your daddy?"

Aleksander didn't answer him, remaining in his position. He stood proud and erect, but pain was searing him from within. The knowledge that these children were right made him tremble involuntarily, though he tried to hide it. He truly had no father, and he didn't even know who he was. Was this what being a bastard was all about? Did the word somehow refer to the fact that the boy didn't even know the name of the man who had seduced his mother and then abandoned them?

"Go away," he advised them, remembering the knife in his pocket. "I advise you well."

The tallest of the attackers chuckled to himself, his long blond fringe obscuring his watery eyes.

"Look at the bastard, how dangerous he thinks he is," he shouted, then began walking toward Aleksander, who, however, didn't move. Showing fear was an open invitation to attack. And yet, his mother had wanted to stay here for a few more days. Meanwhile, if an open fight broke out, they would definitely have to flee immediately. No. The boy would only defend himself if they actually attacked him. "Aren't you afraid, bastard? Give us the amber, and maybe we'll let you go," the gang leader suggested, approaching Aleksander with increasingly rapid steps.

"Or maybe I'll let you go?" a female voice echoed behind the boy. His mother emerged from behind him, causing the blond to freeze in place. The beach was deserted, so Baghra might have decided to stage a small demonstration. Shadows began to spread out, creating a dark halo of darkness around her and her son. "So what's it going to be, pups? Will you go yourselves, or will I help you?"

The attackers exchanged glances before simply running away. When they were far enough away, Aleksander felt his mother's cold hand grip his arm tightly, spinning him around.

“Have you gotten yourself into trouble again, Aleksander?” Baghra asked him, piercing him with her steely gaze. “You almost killed them, and we have to stay here for a few more days. I don’t understand where I went wrong raising you? You attract trouble on demand. We’re lucky that I arrived in time, before we lost our chance to get supplies for the journey east.”

The boy didn’t answer her, staring at his feet. He was still shaking slightly, unable to forget what he’d heard. Why did something he didn’t understand hurt him?

“Look at me, boy,” his mother commanded, seeing that he wasn’t listening. “Why did you do that?”

“I didn’t do anything, madraya,” he finally answered her in a hushed voice. “They started attacking me, and I reacted exactly as you taught me.”

Baghra frowned, grabbing his elbow.

“Next time, be more careful and don’t let strangers get near you before you get into trouble,” she ordered, leaning toward him for a moment, then straightening abruptly.

The boy nodded, then allowed himself to be pulled toward the low huts looming on the edge of the beach, just beyond the flood zone at the edge of the dunes.

And then her son couldn’t bear the tension. The disgust with which the other children had addressed him couldn’t leave his mind. Aleksander knew his mother might punish him for this, but he decided to find out anyway.

So still allowing Baghra to drag him toward the settlement, he asked quietly, “What is a bastard, madraya?”

His mother stopped abruptly, almost causing the boy to stumble.

“What kind of question is that, Aleksander?” she demanded, raising an eyebrow at him. “I don’t remember teaching you what that means.”

Her son hesitated for a second. For a seven-year-old, he'd already seen more than some adults. But he knew that since he'd started talking, he should continue.

"The children who attacked me said I was it," he whispered, and Baghra's eyes widened in rage.

"Maybe we should change our plans," she muttered to herself. "But first, I'll burn this village and kill everyone in it."

Aleksander's heart began to pound. Although these children had truly wanted to harm him, not everyone was responsible. Why had his mother always acted this way? And because of that, he and she had to constantly move. Besides, they, too, lived in fear. And hadn't Baghra ever told him that it was actually the otkazats'ya who hated them? So why was she planning to eliminate people like him and her now, too? The other Grisha?

"Madraya, let's stay here a few more days. It was you who said that we had to wait for the fishermen," Aleksander pleaded, but she started forward again, tugging on his elbow again.

The boy had no choice but to follow her. After a moment, he heard his mother mutter under her breath, "Yes, Aleksander, you are a bastard. And you will never be anything more."

The Black General awoke from his restless sleep, drenched in sweat. The memories were so vivid they began to suffocate him, and he gripped the pillows on either side of him so tightly that the fabric began to creak at the seams, threatening to send the feathers bursting out. The cold spread through him like an icy poison, choking the Darkling. The images before his eyes blurred. He sat half-sitting, wearing only his trousers and no shirt. His upper part of clothing had been folded on the nightstand when Aleksander had decided to try and get some sleep. Usually, only a few hours were enough for him to get refreshed. There were also nights when he didn't sleep at all, because his demons whispered too loudly to him. After all these centuries, The Black General had stopped pretending he didn't suffer from insomnia. It had become his silent companion in misery as darkness spread over the world and the hours dragged on endlessly like a well-deserved torture.

Now, however, cold sweat was dripping down his bare chest. The Darkling knew he had to control his emotions, or he would pay dearly. He was breathing so loudly and slowly that his breath became a wheezing sound. He was about to close his eyes, unable to bear the terrible shivers, when a sudden wave of heat spread through his body. The warmth quickly spilled through his bloodstream, gradually awakening him. He stopped shaking, and his chest rose in an increasingly calming rhythm.

And suddenly, someone threw their arms around his neck, pressing against his chest and listening to his heartbeat. Aleksander fully woke up, letting his gaze fall upon the white hair scattered across his torso. And upon the petite figure clad in a white nightgown, curled up beside him protectively.

"Alina," The Black General said after a moment, and she flinched slightly. Instinctively, she withdrew her hands, moving away from him to look into his eyes.

There was fear and traces of tears in them.

"Are you okay?" his Sun Summoner asked, reaching her hand toward his cheek, carefully exploring his face with her fingers. Seemingly finding nothing alarming, she relaxed a bit. But she still seemed cautious as she brushed the wet hair away from his forehead. "I think I almost didn't make it on time." Guilt tinged her voice, as if it had anything to do with her.

Aleksander covered her small hand with his own, then slowly lowered it. Then he gently took her chin so he could look into her eyes.

"I'm good now," he said softly, running his thumb over her lower lip. "I promise that I'm good," he assured his precious girl.

She didn't break their eye contact. The fear in her large black eyes, however, slowly turned to tenderness.

"You like to scare me, do you?" she asked him, not with accusation, but with helplessness. "What happened to make your emotions get the better of you, Sasha? We were doing so well."

Aleksander felt his heart begin to beat faster. Alina was the only person he had ever opened up to, but what he'd dreamed was too painful to simply talk about. The wound still lingered within him, though it had long since become ingrained in his skin. It wasn't even about him, but about the fact that his precious girl didn't deserve to bear this burden. She was already facing unimaginable stress and responsibility, and he wasn't making it any easier for her.

Seeing what was happening to him, The Sun Summoner silently rose from the bed and walked to the window. Without a word, she rested her hands on the windowsill and stared into the darkness. The Darkling wanted to say something to her, but his voice caught in his throat. Why was this so hard for him? And why did it hurt her so much?

Finally, he gritted his teeth and made a decision. They were meant to share eternity togehter, so he should trust her. He felt she was the only one who wouldn't use this to hurt him. Especially since he planned to marry her someday, though he didn't speak of it out loud, because he was still maturing his decision, and besides, he wanted Alina to be ready for it. She was to be the mother of his children, but also his future queen. She deserved both. But did the Darkling deserve her?

Aleksander walked barefoot from the bed to the window. Taking a deep breath, he approached his precious girl from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist. She visibly relaxed when he rested his chin on the top of her head. And then, just like that, he began to speak.

"My mother always told me I was a bastard." Alina's body tensed again, as she herself seemed unprepared for such a confession. But she remained silent, aware that his trust was as fragile as glass and could shatter at any moment, his voice caught in his throat and he had no control over it. "And of course she was right, for until the day she died, she never told me who my father was. She must have had a clear reason for this, for she was a woman of ambition. As a child, I tried many times to get her to tell me the truth, but to no avail. Aside from the ring we left at the temple, I received no memento of him," the Darkling continued, taking care to control his emotions, for he did not want to allow his previous state of mind to return. "When I was very little, my mother would simply scold me or change the subject. As I grew older, she began to discipline me for it until I realized I shouldn't ask about it anymore. Whatever the truth, Baghra guarded it like a stronghold. I know this sounds pathetic, but in those days we often went hungry, and she, knowing this, punished my disobedience in this way. Then, after several years, the time finally came when I realized that no matter what I did, I would never know the truth. And it was then that I stopped asking my mother any questions." The Black General paused, feeling the memories fill him with bitterness.

Alina shifted slightly in his arms, then turned to him, not releasing the Darkling's embrace but instead gazing at him with sadness and tenderness. Now it was The Shadow Summoner who stared into the darkness, frowning. His precious girl placed both hands on his chest, sending waves of soothing warmth his way. Aleksander was more than grateful for that. She was all he ever wanted and more.

"You're not a bastard, Sasha," his Sun Summoner told him after a moment. "I bet your father was a very powerful Grisha. And do you know why?" she asked him, reaching for his cheek, drawing his attention. "Because your mother wouldn't have chosen anyone else." Confidence blossomed in his precious girl's black eyes, and she glanced deeply into The Black General's.

Aleksander looked away slightly, letting melancholy take over.

“Do you really think she chose him?” he said, more to himself than to his Sun Summoner.

His solnishka was silent for a moment before finally speaking.

“What do you mean, Sasha?” she asked, gently turning his face back to her.

The Black General smiled sadly.

“I have had… multiple siblings, Alina,” he confessed, finally meeting her gaze, his eyes gleaming with inner pain.

His Sun Summoner paled.

“You mean Ulla?” she asked cautiously, not wanting to push him too hard.

Aleksander shook his head at that.

“Ulla is the only one who was immortal and who can still be alive,” he replied, remembering the only three times he had seen his half-sister. “The rest of them were either otkazats’ya or ordinary Grisha, and they died long ago, Alya.” The Darkling suppressed his longing, knowing that negative emotions could evoke merzost and thus frighten his precious girl again.

Alina felt as if her heart had broken. She wrapped her arms around his neck and then snuggled against him.

"I'm so sorry, Sasha," she whispered into his bare chest, and he felt wetness on his skin, as if she herself were crying. "But I still believe your father, like you, was special because your mother kept his ring. And you."

The Darkling smiled wryly to himself, even though his solnishka couldn't see him now.

"Because I was just like her, milaya," he told her, seeing her reluctantly pull away again to look into his eyes. "And I had her powers," he stated, having lived and grown up with precisely that belief.

But Alina shook her head slightly at that.

"Yes, I don't deny that it happened, Sasha," she agreed. "But look at the trouble she went to. Have any of your siblings experienced this?" she wondered aloud.

The Shadow Summoner frowned.

"Sasha," his precious girl added after a moment. "What if Baghra hid you from your father, because you were special? What if he knew about everything, and he tried to take you away from her, so she couldn't agree to that?" Alina paused for a moment, then added quietly. "You told me you were running away your whole lives, but did Baghra explain to you why?"

Aleksander felt grief and rage tighten in his throat.

"She hated me, Alya, maybe because she hated him too," he said, feeling the same way again as he had over five hundred years ago, when he had been just learning what it meant to be the child of someone like his mother.

"She did it because you were special, Sasha," his precious girl argued, placing both hands on the nape of his neck and leaning his face dangerously close to hers, so that not only were they looking directly into each other's eyes from a short distance away, but their lips were almost touching. "You... are special," she assured him, then, without waiting for him to deny it, she pressed their lips together.

Aleksander groaned, tightening his strong hands around her waist. A moment later, his fingers were burning hot trails across her skin, sliding up and down her back, causing Alina's nightgown to ride up. Her palms gripped his hair, tugging it lightly, and she gave him full permission to deepen their kiss, which grew more passionate with each passing second. When his precious girl lightly nipped his lower lip with her teeth, he knew he wouldn't let her go so easily. Their hot breaths intertwined, as did their tongues fighting for dominance. The Black General felt lust spread through his body, unlike the deadly cold brought by the merzost. Now, a living fire was coursing through his veins, and when Alina moaned softly into his mouth, she crossed the line of no return. The Darkling's hands flew to her buttocks, gripping them to lift her feather-light body, never breaking their passionate kiss. A moment later, his solnishka, was perched on the windowsill, her hands gripping the walls on either side for support. Aleksander continued to roam her figure, pausing briefly on her right breast before caressing it. Alina spread her thighs wider to give him even better access.

And just then, there was a knock on the door. At first, they both completely ignored it. But then the sound repeated itself. And then it happened again. And again. And again.

His Sun Summoner wasn't happy about it. Nevertheless, she pulled away from The Black General, panting heavily.

"You should go," she told him, pulling her nightgown lower to her thighs. "I have a feeling this person won't leave until you speak with them."

Aleksander wanted to howl in frustration, but work always ranked very high on his list of priorities. Especially since someone was determined to hear him, and that couldn't be anything trivial.

The Darkling reluctantly left Alina at the window, helping her down from the windowsill. Then, grabbing a shirt from the nightstand, he walked barefoot toward the exit from their chamber. He threw on his upper part of clothing, leaving it unbuttoned for now. Then he opened the door, trying not to show how much this unannounced visit had unsettled him.

Ivan was standing in the doorway, his icy seriousness completely sobering his commander, who instinctively frowned, awaiting his Colonel's report.

"Forgive me for this intrusion, moi Soverenyi," his Heartrender told him, his voice uncharacteristically tense. "But we have just captured Zoya Nazyalensky."

***

"Sir?" Igor asked his employer quietly, pushing his wheeled chair closer to the window overlooking the rocky coast so his master could get some fresh air.

As his guardian, he knew that it was inadvisable for his lord to leave the estate, not because it could harm him in any way, but because someone might accidentally see him. Although the household was completely isolated, his master always acted cautiously and didn't like to take unnecessary risks. Every decision he made was an effect of careful consideration. That was the only reason his employer always got what he wanted, and although even the slightest gust of wind could seemingly snap him in half, Igor had never seen a more powerful man than his master.

The armchair rolled close to the balcony, where the servant locked the rear wheels to prevent an unfortunate fall into the rocky abyss. He was about to silently depart to prepare afternoon tea when his lord asked, "How are things going, Igor?"

The butler immediately stopped, unsure of what his employer expected of him.

"What are you asking, sir?" he asked, seeing his master's bony fingers tighten around the armrests of the armchair, thin and almost transparent.

"Has that young Squaller you were following reached Os Kervo yet?" he asked in his gravelly voice, not changing his position and staring from beneath his hood into the vastness of the sea.

Igor bowed his head low before him and answered the question posed to him.

"Yes, my Lord, apparently this Etherealki is already in The Summer Palace," he explained to his master.

His employer was silent for a moment, then finally decided to issue another order.

"Prepare a messenger for the journey towards West Ravka," he said to his servant, his voice slightly rumbling, as if coming from inside a very deep well. "It's time to make The Black General aware of our existence."

Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:

Notes:

Hello, loves 🖤🌷
I consider this chapter important because of Aleksander. Writing his past scenes has a special meaning to me and this story is written to expand his backstory and everything which revolves around him. I think you may know now who is Anmei? And who is the first Sun Summoner? I would love to see your ideas 🖤🌷
Also, guys, I have started to write modern AU Darklina story, where Aleksander is a hot ex-commando from SEAL. My wish is to show how I would see him if he lived in 2006 and was mortal. I want to keep his original personality traits. If you like modern AU and my writing style, feel free to check it. I would be honored. I will post a Prologue and 1st chapter soon today, but this sequel will remain my main focus with every Sunday update (like it always was). The other story I hope to update as often as I can, hopefully more frequently than 3 times a month. We will see 🖤🌷
Happy new week! 💗
Ewa

Chapter 8: The Man Who Was Born to Wear the Ring

Summary:

"That remains to be seen, Miss Nazyalensky," the Darkling warned her, taking a step forward and stopping above her to look down directly into her eyes. His black irises conveyed not only contempt but also an icy promise of punishment for any betrayal the dark-haired Squaller committed. "And when that happens, we'll see if you're still so confident," he remarked, the corner of his mouth curling upward.
But Zoya only responded with a similar expression, practically imitating him.
"I know full well you don't want to kill me," she stated, shrugging, even though Fedyor was still holding her close. "You would have done it by now, General."
This time, the smile that graced Aleksander Morozova's lips was cold and cruel, giving The Shadow Summoner the look of a predator about to rip out the neck of its prey.
"We'll see, Miss Nazyalensky," he stated in a nonchalant tone, but there was a hint of a delayed death sentence in his voice. "When we next meet here, I'll have seen much more than I do now. And then... well." The Black General paused, his already dark eyes turning into the blackness of the starless night. "We'll have a completely different chat. You have my word on that."

Notes:

❗❗THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT ADULT SCENE AND SOME VIOLENCE❗❗
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

chapter6

❗❗THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT ADULT SCENE AND SOME VIOLENCE❗❗

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The heavy boots of the new Regent of West Ravka were clattering against the stone floor as he, lost in his own thoughts, was making his way towards the dungeons, where a traitor not only to his people but to all of Ravka awaited him. Aleksander knew he would have to control himself perfectly, for he wanted to spare Alina this experience. Though adrenaline pulsed through his veins so strongly he could hear it pounding in his ears, he believed that merzost was most active in him when he wasn't enraged, but rather assaulted by all the painful images from his past that had once broken him. The Darkling, however, was reluctant to test this theory, as he had only experienced two attacks so far, one of which had been interrupted in time. But seeing that he now felt fully himself, and that strange chill gnawing at his bones wasn't bothering him for now, The Black General decided to show Miss Nazyalensky that while she had been playing with fire before, she would finally be burned by it now.

Aleksander hated betrayal more than anything in the world. He had experienced it practically his entire life, starting with Annika and ending with his own mother. Because of this, he had become particularly sensitive to it, allowing for no exceptions to the rule, punishing it harshly, depending on the gravity of the guilt. And it was this that drew the Darkling's thoughts towards the first such situation since he had become The Black General. The Second Army had been just forming, and he had focused on settling all the Grisha in The Little Palace. The Tsar had ordered him to resolve all disputes concerning his men on his own. His soldiers still had lacked equal civil rights and never would, but their mission had been to keep out of trouble and serve the monarchy until the end of their days in exchange for the opportunity to find refuge within the walls of safe haven Aleksander had built in Os Alta. Their safety had come at the cost of many sacrifices, the greatest of which had been for the Darkling himself. He had had to discipline, administer justice, and send to death the very Grisha he had previously saved.

Sometimes the burden placed upon his shoulders proved too much, and though the Black General of Ravka bore it consciously and would never choose to abandon it, he was just one man in the face of the havoc surrounding him. The same destruction he himself had initiated, putting the lives of others on the line. Aleksander knew this was the right thing to do, and if any of his men were ever to awaken in a free land, others would have to lay the foundations. And then, brick by brick, build a wall of sacrifices, the lives lost fighting for their free homeland. For a kingdom safe from the Lantsovs and the irreversible mess they had wrought. And that was why the Darkling was glad he could sometimes be cold and determined, even when it came to his own subordinates. Wars were not won with empty promises and fine words. The individual served the whole, not the other way around. And in the body of The Second Army, there was no room for weak links. And Aleksander considered such traitors especially, to whom he would show no mercy.

Today came the day when The Black General had to punish the man guilty of treason and allying with the Fjerdans. Before the knighthood in Ravka had been transformed into an army, the procedures for punishing informers had been different than they were now. Justice had been meted out on the spot, most often by horse-drawn slashing. Now, however, the issue arose of a court martial, which dealt with cases of desertion and vile misdeeds committed by recruits of The First Army. Aleksander Morozova also had the right to bring Grisha to trial, but he chose not to. Firstly, because he didn't expect even a shred of justice from these traitors who obeyed the monarchy's every whim, and secondly, because by doing so on his own, he was building his authority. His position had to be strong, because a weak authority meant a weak state. The Lantsovs had utterly destroyed Ravka, but the Darkling tried to somehow save it from annihilation by their neighbors. He might have had to serve a succession of Tsars, but he could still create something of his own under their rule. His small empire, however, would not allow any traitors.

And so the day came to punish the first instance of unforgivable betrayal within the ranks of The Second Army.

The Black General was sitting in his office when Mikhail, his second-in-command, knocked on his door, requesting permission to enter.

"Moi Soverenyi," he said to Aleksander, standing in front of his desk and placing his hands on the back of the chair in front of him. "Guilty of high treason and of acting against Ravka on behalf of Fjerda, is here in the corridor, as you ordered. Would you like him brought here, or would you prefer to interrogate him in dungeons?"

The Darkling leaned forward, resting his elbows on the tabletop.

"Take him to the dungeon, and I'll be there in a moment. I don't want to make a mess here," he said, waiting for Mikhail to nod.

"Of course, sir," he said, not changing his position without permission to leave.

But Aleksander had a few more questions before he allowed him to do so.

"Did the man guilty of high treason say anything I should know?" he asked. "For example, did he defend himself in any way?"

His deputy shook his head.

"Nothing worth your attention, sir," he told his commander, thinking about his General’s question. "Our Heatrenders were trying to determine if he was lying, and of course, nothing he said was true, moi Soverenyi," explained his most loyal soldier, who turned out to be one of the most powerful Inferni the Darkling had ever encountered. "But before we began to force him to confess, as you instructed, we refrained from probing his memory. It could have weakened him considerably, and we didn't want him to lose consciousness before you spoke with him, sir. You said you had already pronounced the sentence, but we didn't want to hinder your execution. This could be a very valuable lesson for others, moi Soverenyi, and therefore I agree with you that the harshest punishment will act as a warning to others who also choose to betray you and Ravka," his deputy said, bowing his head before him.

"Did you capture the drüskelle that informant worked for with him?" The Darkling needed to know, narrowing his eyes and feeling the rage coursing through his veins. "And have you spared their lives for now, until I interrogate the perpetrator of the treason, as I requested?" he asked, mentally formulating a detailed plan for the interrogation.

"Yes, sir," his trusted Inferni replied. "They are also locked in the dungeon next to Yura."

At the mention of the traitor's name, The Black General clenched his fists on the desk so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Those who disrespected the values he fought for and opposed them had no chance of his mercy. Metering out this kind of justice didn't fill Aleksander with the satisfaction he was generally believed to. True, he did it coldly, for he had to enforce the discipline that came with the authority that allowed him to build something from nothing. But that respect was useless when trampled upon in such a manner. And given the negative connotations of this act, the Darkling was not about to show mercy. Moreover, justice would be meted out in the presence of witnesses.

"Very well," he gritted through his teeth, but as always, he quickly regained his composure. "The traitor might want to say something about them, and then their corpses will be of no use to us. We will kill them only after I have spoken with Yura. Have representatives of the individual orders arrived at the hearing, as I requested?" The Black General asked, his eyes turning black as night and icy cold.

"Yes, moi Soverenyi," The Inferni replied. "We may begin whenever you are ready."

Aleksander nodded, removing his elbows from the table before leaning back in his chair.

"Okay, get everything ready, and I'll be at the cell in ten minutes. You may leave," he told Mikhail, who bowed briefly, acknowledging his understanding of the order.

"Of course, sir." With that, his deputy left the Darkling's office, quietly closing the door behind him.

The Black General wasn't happy with what he had to do. But revealing Grishenka's location to their homeland's enemies was a capital offense. None of these children survived the confrontation with the drüskelle, who didn't even have time to transport the young prisoners north, as exhaustion and extreme hypothermia killed them before they reached it. Thus, every death Yura had brought about added to his own. The heinousness of his actions couldn't go unnoticed, especially now, when Aleksander was trying to bring all the Grishenka to Os Alta. Worst of all, the betrayal had caught him by surprise, as the culprit had promised to be a loyal soldier. And for that reason, he wouldn't escape justice. Fraternizing with Ravka's enemies was subject to court martial, and the Darkling would be the sole judge and executioner.

A few minutes later, The Black General was already traversing the underground passages beneath The Little Palace, heading towards the cell where his former Heartrender was being held. The Second Army still lacked Corporalki soldiers, and now one of their own would also lose his life. Aleksander was furious, but also determined to bring justice to the table.

When The Shadow Summoner arrived, all the summoned commanders were already waiting for him. The entire procedure had to be witnessed, and this was a major preventative measure. His men obediently parted for him, bowing their heads low and letting him through the bars. There, in the center of the room, was sitting a young man with green eyes and auburn hair. He wasn't wearing his red kefta, having been stripped of it immediately upon his capture at the Fjerdan border. His hands were tied behind his back to prevent him from using his abilities. The boy bowed his head and was staring at the ground. He was filthy, and his body showed signs of a struggle, consistent with what Aleksander had been told, that Yura had resisted before being captured.

The Black General approached him and, without warning, grabbed him by the chin and jerked his head up. The young traitor avoided his eyes, but was forced to meet them. And the Darkling saw no regret there, only fear.

"Lieutenant Borovin, you surely know why you were detained," the Darkling told him, holding his chin tightly, though The Corporalki tried hard to avert his gaze. "You will answer for revealing Grishenka's location to our enemies, as well as for the deaths of ten children."

Yura remained calm and stubbornly silent. Aleksander considered asking the Heartrenders gathered in the cell for help, to see if his former soldier was hiding anything, especially since his accomplices were locked in the cell next door. This was about the life of his Grisha and the identification of potential accomplices. It wasn't often that the drüskelle not only spared the life of one of The Black General's men, but entered into something resembling a pact with them. It was precisely these motives that most intrigued the Darkling, and he wanted to understand them before he meted out justice.

He nodded to one of his captains, clad in the red kefta of the Heartrenders. He approached his General, grabbing the prisoner from behind by his wrists, which were bound behind his back. Yura clearly resisted, but after a moment, his expression changed. He became distant, giving him the appearance of a rag doll.

"You can ask whatever you want now, moi Soverenyi," The Corporalki said, and Aleksander nodded.

"Lieutenant Borovin, I would like to know if you were acting alone," The Black General asked him, not letting go of his chin.

Yura's eyes were clouded and had lost all their previous depth. His demeanor had become somewhat automatic, as if something had programmed him to speak the truth.

"Yes," he replied, his voice sounding unnatural, as if it were coming from deep within him, without the use of his vocal cords.

The Darkling glanced at the captain assisting him, and his officer nodded. Good, then. The Black General's fundamental doubt had been dispelled. Just two more and the interrogation would be over.

"How on earth did you enter into an agreement with the Fjerdans, Lieutenant Borovin?" Aleksander asked after a moment, tilting the prisoner's chin from side to side as if trying to peer into his soul. "And what were you promised in exchange for betraying Ravka and the Second Army?"

His former soldier immediately began to speak.

"I was offered the chance to become one of them. That I would no longer have to fear for my life every day working at the border post. That my safety would be guaranteed. And if I brought them at least twenty Grishenka, I would be transferred to Djerholm and introduced to the royal family," the young traitor said, as if he had memorized his lines.

The Darkling felt his hand involuntarily tighten on the man's jaw, teetering on the verge of shattering every bone he had there. What a fool. What a naive idiot, without a shred of imagination or self-preservation. Did he really think he could bargain with the drüskelle, who would spare his life? How low had he fallen to sell his own brothers and sisters for a lie so irrational that Aleksander couldn't even fathom anyone being gullible enough to fall for it?

"Besides the Fjerdans detained with you, have you collaborated with anyone else, Lieutenant Borovin?" This was the last question The Black General had to ask him, and then he would punish him for betraying all his kin and Ravka.

"No, I only collaborated with them and the portion of their unit that perished at the hands of the soldiers of The Second Army," the detained Heartrender said in a voice devoid of any emotion.

The Black General abruptly released his chin, straightening up. He nodded to the captain who was assisting him, and his officer released the wrists of the prisoner sitting in the chair. The Darkling wanted Yura to be aware of when he would punish him. The Shadow Summoner glanced around, while those gathered with him to command the individual orders instinctively retreated to the walls.

And then Aleksander said, "Lieutenant Borovin, for betraying Ravka and bringing doom to those you swore to protect, I hereby sentence you to death by the power vested in me. Are you aware of this responsibility?" The Black General asked the prisoner, but received only a horrified look from him.

The Grisha gathered in the room remained silent, their faces impassive and cold. The deaths of innocent children always evoked greater emotion than the death of an adult. And no one accepted this, especially those who had experienced firsthand the constant struggle for survival.

The Darkling raised his hands in front of prisoner, adding, "The sentence will be carried out immediately," he said, and then sent the shadow cut ahead.

Aleksander shook himself from the memories, listening to the sound of his own footsteps. The torchlight reflected in the small puddles that sloshed beneath his feet. Finally, he spotted Ivan's silhouette looming in the distance. Fedyor was standing right next to him, as did several guards guarding the entrance to the cell. The Black General knew his actions in Zoya's case were unconventional. He couldn't execute her on the spot because of Lantsov Puppy. If this interrogation didn’t reveal anything and didn’t explain her intentions, the Darkling would still keep her alive for now. The Squaller's sentence would be postponed to make it a public event. This would be an additional blow to Nikolai, who, despite planning to marry someone else, would have to consent to the execution of his own lover. Moreover, there was probably no one in Ravka who didn't already know about his affair with the Etherealki. It would be a demonstration of the position his new Regent now held. If the blond boy believed he could introduce tax breaks in a region outside his jurisdiction, the Shadow Summoner would return the favor. After all, there were effective methods of control without invoking a state of civil war. Aleksander Morozova may have faced adversity, but in the end he was the one who came out on top.

"Moi Soverenyi," his Heartrenders greeted him as the Darkling finally reached the entrance to the cell where the dark-haired Squaller was being held. "As you requested, we've already begun the interrogation, but we were waiting for permission to use force," his second-in-command explained, to which The Black General nodded.

"Excellent," their commander praised. "Let's get to work then and see what our traitor has to say."

Both Corporalki nodded, waiting for Aleksander to enter the barred room and then follow him. Ironically, all of Ravka's traitors seemed to end up here, as it was the exact same cell where Mal had also been held.

Zoya was sitting on a stone bench, her back to the entrance, and didn't react when the creaking of the iron door broke the silence, a sound so loud and unpleasant it could wake even the dead. The dark-haired Etherealki was dressed in typical otkazats'ya traveling clothing, likely intended to blend in and draw attention away from her. Yet her cunning had clearly failed her. She was captured at the port while attempting to board a ship to Shu Han. And it was this revelation that most interested Aleksander Morozova. One might have thought Zoya would want to return to Os Alta, but instead she had chosen a completely different direction. Perhaps Nikolai had sent her there on some errand, but it was hard to believe The Squaller had willingly agreed, knowing that the blond Tsar intended to marry Ehri Kir-Taban. Unless, of course, this marriage was meant to be nothing more than a farce, and the dark-haired Ethereal woman was still to become Lantsov Puppy's unofficial mistress.

"Miss Nazyalensky," Aleksander greeted her, but she didn't even look in his direction. The man shook his head pityingly, then nodded to Ivan and Fedyor, who approached the captive and, taking her by the elbows, turned her toward their General. The Squaller's face was flushed, and she had a fury in her eyes so boundless that if looks could kill, the Shadow Summoner would already be dead. "Is it nice to try to escape from Ravka right under my nose?" he asked, giving the brunette a dismissive look.

"I owe you nothing, and I won't speak to you," Zoya replied, biting each word through her teeth. "I can't wait for your little empire to fall and for you to lose, something you can't bear."

Aleksander cocked his head slightly to the side, narrowing his eyes. He didn't remember allowing her to address him as "you," and certainly not traitors like The Squaller had permission to do so.

"That remains to be seen, Miss Nazyalensky," the Darkling told her. "But before we see the truth of your predictions, I'd like to know why you needed two hundred vials of jurda parem. And why did you decide to take only a semi-finished product from my palace instead of a finished antidote? You don't strike me as bright enough to have come up with a brilliant plan on your own. Especially since I know perfectly well you have absolutely no knowledge of what Materialki do."

Zoya glared at him, and it was clear she wasn't about to say anything.

"I know nothing about any vials or semi-finished products," she finally stated, tilting her head up. "See for yourself if you don't believe me. After all, you have your loyal minions here, so put them to work like the obedient pawns they are." Contempt flashed in her eyes, and The Shadow Summoner saw Ivan stiffen from the corner of his eye.

Aleksander clenched his fists, but he'd known The Squaller for years and was aware that she was as fearless as she was foolish. She'd sooner let him kill her than willingly admit guilt. For years, this had made her the perfect follower, but when she had decided to betray him, she had become as fierce in her hatred as she had been loyal before.

"Of course, I'll be sure to find out, Miss Nazyalensky," the new Regent replied, then nodded to Ivan.

The Heartrender held out his hands to her, trying to force the dark-haired Etherealki to speak. But she remained impassive on the bench, even though Fedyor never let her go.

His Colonel frowned after a moment, his arms slumped at his sides.

"No chance, sir," he said. "I'm trying to break through her mental shield, but without success."

Aleksander couldn't hide his surprise, but he masked it well. While he hadn't expected such complications, it wasn't like he'd faced such problems before.

"I told you that you could try your luck," The Squaller sneered, revealing her white teeth in a contemptuous smile. "But has the fearless Black General ever listened to anyone?"

The Shadow Summoner would gladly rip her limbs from her torso, but for now, she was more valuable to him alive. Especially since he had no way of determining who had actually commissioned her to steal the jurda parem. Or where The Tidemaker, who had been working with her, had disappeared.

And then Ivan told The Black General something that got him thinking, immediately suggesting a solution he wouldn't have considered before.

"Sorry, sir, it's the same as with Opjer. I simply have no way to penetrate her mind," his Colonel stated apologetically, causing Aleksander's eyes to widen in surprise.

While the probability of this happening was slim to none, it didn't hurt to test the validity of a certain theory.

"Expose her neck, Colonel Kaminsky," The Black General ordered Fedyor, and despite his obvious surprise, he immediately obeyed. The assembled eyes caught sight of a pinpoint scar on Zoya's neck, located just at the base of her skull, just like Opjer's. "Well, well, well," said the Darkling, who honestly didn't think his suspicions would be confirmed.

Meanwhile, it turned out that someone from The Wandering Isle might have been involved in the entire operation. Aleksander, however, saw no connection between Zoya, Nikolai, and the island nation to the far north. He suspected someone was trying to distract him, when the real threat might come from a completely different direction. However, he couldn't completely rule out the islanders' involvement. Especially since Opjer had undergone a very similar procedure, and now he, too, was in his captivity. It was as if the Darkling had become the subject of some strange coincidence. Only Aleksander Morozova didn't believe in twists of fate.

Zoya didn't even speak, but that contemptuous smile literally couldn't leave her lips.

"I must admit, I'm impressed, General," the dark-haired Etherealki finally said. "But now you know that I won't tell you anything."

The Black General narrowed his eyes at her, knowing that when the time came, he would himself preside over The Squaller's execution. Patience was a trait of kings, and Aleksander Morozova was born to rule.

"That remains to be seen, Miss Nazyalensky," the Darkling warned her, taking a step forward and stopping above her to look down directly into her eyes. His black irises conveyed not only contempt but also an icy promise of punishment for any betrayal the dark-haired Squaller committed. "And when that happens, we'll see if you're still so confident," he remarked, the corner of his mouth curling upward.

But Zoya only responded with a similar expression, practically imitating him.

"I know full well you don't want to kill me," she stated, shrugging, even though Fedyor was still holding her close. "You would have done it by now, General."

This time, the smile that graced Aleksander Morozova's lips was cold and cruel, giving The Shadow Summoner the look of a predator about to rip out the neck of its prey.

"We'll see, Miss Nazyalensky," he stated in a nonchalant tone, but there was a hint of a delayed death sentence in his voice. "When we next meet here, I'll have seen much more than I do now. And then... well." The Black General paused, his already dark eyes turning into the blackness of the starless night. "We'll have a completely different chat. You have my word on that."

***

Aleksander Morozova submerged his entire head beneath the surface of the warm water, feeling the adrenaline surging through his veins not only continue to flow through his bloodstream, but also seem to sharpen his senses even more, until he allowed his emotions to fill every cell in his body, transforming him into a predator constantly ready to pounce. The longer he thought about it, the more convinced he was that he was right. Rage didn't activate merzost, only the desperation and anguish that lay at the root of his trauma. Dark magic fed on fear and helplessness, not anger. It was the same when the Darkling had created The Shadow Fold, and when he had desperately tried to save his life and crawl out of the former Unsea. In each case, The Shadow Summoner had been driven to this act by an impossible situation. And since The Black General was now beyond tense, and the chill that had pierced his bones hadn't returned, he felt he could confidently say he wasn’t wrong in his assumptions.

Usually, a hot bath soothed his nerves. His muscles relaxed, and the warm water brought the momentary relief Aleksander constantly sought. But today, for some inexplicable reason, the longed-for relaxation hadn't arrived at all. It seemed that the confrontation with Zoya had unsettled The Black General more than The Shadow Summoner could have imagined. He himself was still tense, and even though the minutes had passed since he'd immersed himself in the warm water, his condition persisted, and his body demanded someone to help him relieve the tension, for he still had many pressing matters to attend to, and which brooked no delay.

It was the middle of the night, and when Aleksander had entered the bathroom, Alina had been already asleep, the covers pulled almost up to her neck. He had paused above her for a moment, brushing a stray lock of hair from her pretty face, then decided not to wake her. He knew how tired she'd been lately, and he had no intention of making her even worse, especially since his emotions might rub off on her. Zoya would pay for this – sooner or later. All these events had something in common, and the Darkling felt that when he finally discovered it, he would regain control of the chaos in Ravka. But he wouldn't succeed if he let anger cloud his thoughts. Except that relaxation wasn't coming, and he was beginning to doubt it would ever happen.

Then came the sound of quiet footsteps behind him. Although there were a few lit candles in the room, someone had an additional light source. Then that someone approached him from behind and leaned over him. Aleksander, who had emerged from the water a moment earlier, felt someone dry his wet skin with the back of their hand, then kiss him tenderly on the nape of his neck. And then they did it again, and again. And then again, tracing a small, hot trail across his shoulder blades.

"Sasha," the person said between kisses, and his body reacted immediately. His senses sharpened, and the gentle caress heated his already hot blood even more. "You've been sitting here for an awfully long time. It's unlike you."

Aleksander closed his eyes, allowing Alina's lips to tenderly caress his skin. Her breath electrified him, bit by bit, transforming his rage into an increasingly intense lust. His Sun Summoner was doing this on purpose, but for some reason he couldn't stop her. He wanted her badly, and the throbbing he could feel between his legs right now told him that his body agreed. But he wasn't going to force her. Not when he knew he might be a bit too rough now, and his precious girl shouldn't know what he was capable of sometimes, unless she wanted the same thing he did, or initiated it.

"Alina..." he told her, unable to open his eyes, his breathing becoming labored. "What did I do to deserve this?"

Her lips continued to roam his skin, increasingly curious and bolder. Aleksander felt her licking more and more water from his skin, which made him shudder involuntarily, sensing she was doing it on purpose.

"Does there have to be a reason?" she whispered against his back, and he casually slid a little higher up the porcelain surface, so that from a half-reclining position, he was now sitting almost upright in the brimming bathtub, transformed by the touch that promised to finally release his tension. "I can feel how tense you are... Why won't you let me help you?" his Sun Summoner asked quietly, her lips tracing the nape of his neck again.

"Alya... You have no idea what you're offering," Aleksander said through his teeth, his voice lower and clearly tinged with lust.

"Oh, I have a perfect idea, Sasha," she replied, adding her hands to the caress she was offering him, massaging his incredibly tense muscles, tracing repetitive paths there, following the direction of her mouth. "Your skin is electrified," she whispered again. "I'm curious... what the rest of your body looks like."

The Black General had to grit his teeth to suppress a moan. The throbbing was becoming almost unbearable with each passing second, and he had the impression that Alina was trying to force him to cross the line of no return.

"See..." she told him quietly, continuing her caresses. "I can feel that my Daddy is tensed... so tensed that he may explode." His precious girl's whisper was laced with a lust that literally made the Darkling lose his mind.

With Alina, Aleksander was sometimes grateful for his self-control. But she tested his limits harder and harder, and what's more, she became exceptionally bold in it.

"Milaya..." The Black General began, but she ran the tip of her tongue along the line of his spine, moving towards his neck, preventing him from finishing her sentence.

"Hush hush..." she whispered against his skin again. "Perhaps you'd get out of this bath and let your good girl take care of you?" His Sun Summoner suggested, sliding her hands under his armpits from behind, as if to show him she wanted him to stand. "Don't be like that... Let me take care of you."

66chapter66

The Darkling groaned again. His lust had turned into a physical, sweet pain, and the words his Little Saint spoke only intensified it.

"Are you sure?" The Shadow Summoner asked again, but not only did she not remove her hands from under his armpits, but she slid them even deeper, now roaming his chest. "Because I may not stop myself on time, even if I want to."

But her answer left him with no doubt.

"And I don't want you to stop, Daddy," she told him against his heated skin. "You shall relax. And you shall only relax when you are with me..." she whispered, suggesting with a light nudge that he should get up.

This was too much for Aleksander. Alina clearly knew what she was doing, and he wanted to let her. With her, his tension could be released, because it had already been transformed into pure, unbridled lust. Besides, just watching him affect her in the same way only intensified his need to show his Sun Summoner that she deserved the title of good girl.

Aleksander rose from the tub, seeing Alina reach for a towel from the floor and rise as well. She spread it out in front of her, tracing his figure with a gaze so intense and heavy that he had to grit his teeth to hide how close he'd come to losing control. His Sun Summoner wore only a short nightgown. She approached him with the towel and began carefully drying his body, not missing a single nook and cranny during the painfully long process. When her hands deliberately lingered on his manhood, the Darkling stifled a groan again. Then her caress repeated itself. And then Alina did it again, as if it had been her goal all along.

"Alya..." Aleksander warned her, but she cut him off. She put a finger to her lips to silence him, then tossed the wet towel onto the back of the chair against the bathroom wall and took his hand.

She led him towards their bed, where she very gently pushed him down, forcing him to sit naked on the very edge of it. And then she did something she had never done before, and Aleksander had to admit he hadn't expected it. His Sun Summoner knelt on the ground, pushing his knees apart, and then began kissing him along the line of his thighs, working her way upward.

"Alina..." The Black General's breathing grew heavier and heavier, until he finally moaned when her small palm grasped his penis at the base, making a careful, downward motion.

"I need to warn you that I'm not in the best shape today..." he began, but then the movement of her hand repeated itself, this time a little bolder.

"Then let me bring you into better shape, Sasha," his Sun Summoner whispered into the skin of his thigh, and he felt the pulsation between his legs begin to match the increasingly rapid movements of her palm, still learning his needs. "Like every good girl would do." And with that, Alina took him into her mouth, sucking lightly.

The man moaned, because the pleasure he now was feeling was incomparable. His Sun Summoner was caressing him with increasing intensity, adding her other hand and tongue. The Black General squeezed his eyes shut, involuntarily threading his fingers through her hair. Instinct told him to guide her head to the right angle, where the sensations she offered him were most intense. Alina, in fact, was becoming increasingly bold in this. He felt her shame melt away, and she clearly began to enjoy it. When a soft sigh escaped her lips, pressed against his shaft, the Darkling knew she was ready. He gently cupped her temples, forcing her to stop caressing him and instead look down at him from her kneeling position.

"You're a very good girl," he told her, then brushed her damp hair back from her forehead, seeing that her dark eyes had grown slightly hazy in the meantime, and her breathing was ragged and heavy with lust. "And now it's your daddy's turn to reward you for how well you did."

Aleksander held out his hands to her, helping her stand. And when Alina did, he lightly grabbed her hips, sitting her beside him on the bed. And then he leaned over her and kissed her deeply. The caress was passionate and filled with desperation. His fingers tangled in her hair, and his other hand instinctively flicked to the hem of her nightgown, pushing it up with the skillful movement of an experienced lover who knew exactly what he was doing. And then The Black General's lust inflamed even more. He discovered that his precious girl had no underwear on, and he had full access to her.

Without further delay, the Darkling pushed her gently onto the mattress and then lay down beside her. Still caressing her neck, he turned her so that her back was to him, then placed his hand between her thighs, running his fingers up and down her soft, silky skin. The wetness on his fingertips told him that Alina needed him as much as he wanted her. Aleksander inserted two fingers inside her, earning a series of moans from her. He then repeated the action several times, trying his best to take his time. Although The Black General longed for nothing more than to fill her, he waited until her sighs became fully repetitive before removing his hand, replacing it with his member. Then he thrust his hips hard, trying to penetrate as deeply as possible. Alina screamed, and he gritted his teeth, because the sounds she made always drove him crazy, and now, after their passionate foreplay, their effect was even more intense and violent. Aleksander's palm gripped her waist tightly, while his other hand moved her hair away from her neck so he could kiss her along it. They were both very close to the edge, and it didn't take long for their movements to become increasingly faster and more erratic. Finally, his Little Saint screamed so loudly that the Darkling wouldn't have been surprised if someone in the hallway had heard it. Her skin glistened, and her small body began to shake with spasms of pleasure that made The Black General lose control as well. He let out a guttural sound and allowed himself to explode inside her hot core, which would always belong solely to him.

For a long time, they both remained in the same position. Aleksander still didn't release her from his embrace, nor did he withdraw from her. His hand pulled his Sun Summoner toward him in a gesture of belonging. His fingers touched her rounded belly, within which the life they had both conceived was germinating, with a tenderness he found inexplicable. This was their shared creation. Something that would bind them even more closely than what they already shared.

"I hope you relaxed a bit, Sasha," Alina finally told him, snuggling her back against his chest. "Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?" she asked, yawning softly.

The Black General kissed the top of her head, burying his nose in her iris-scented hair.

"I will, milaya," he replied, placing another kiss on the back of her head. "I will."

***

Tonight was a warm and slightly muggy night, heralding a storm slowly approaching southwest Ravka. The air had become heavy with humidity, keeping Alina awake and tossing and turning in her bed, her bare feet peeking out from under the thin covers. She and her parents moved at least once a year, but the girl had grown fond of the place they were staying in now. The area was peaceful and offered plenty of opportunities to play in the vast forest clearings and meadows, dotted with colorful flowers at this time of year. Wide swaths of open space were separated by thick forests teeming with wild animals, which the locals hunted and traded for their skins and tallow, which was then processed into candles. This region of Ravka was focused on agriculture. Local residents in the village whispered that – unlike in the eastern part of the country – the land here was fertile and cultivated grains, potatoes, and sugar beets, the basic food source for the common people. Alina felt free and happy here. For the first time in her six-year life, she longed to stay here forever. However, she knew that dreams could prove disastrous and dangerous. As soon as she managed to attach herself to something, it was quickly snatched away. Therefore, the girl focused solely on what was happening around her, exclusively in the moment. She didn't feel disappointed then and could enjoy those brief moments when she truly understood the meaning of the word "happiness."

But today, sleep refused to come, and Alina sighed heavily, then swung her little feet from the bed to the ground, slowly walking toward the window. She opened it wide, staring into the darkness. The end of June had brought heat and frequent storms, but now the air was heavy and muggy, even though the sky seemed cloudless and dotted with stars. But what caught the girl's attention were tiny points of light dancing low over the meadows. It was as if the stars had fallen from the firmament to earth, hovering just above the blades of grass.

Alina was literally enchanted by the sight. Something was drawing her in that direction, and she couldn't explain it to herself. The skin on her arms began to gently tickle, as if begging her to rub her hands together, releasing that energy. She hadn't known this feeling before, but it begged her to give in. The girl decided to walk just a little way from the house to see if these dancing points truly existed. And why they had been calling her from the moment she had laid eyes on them.

So Alina descended the stairs, carefully glancing around. From her parents' bedroom, only silence came to her ears, so, summoning her courage, the petite brunette unlocked the front door leading to the farmyard and stepped out into the night, clad only in a thin nightgown and being barefoot. Although there were other buildings near the cottage where the girl lived with her family of three, all the lights inside were off, and the tiny dots rising above the meadows were the only source of illumination, as if guiding her steps.

Alina passed the line of buildings and, after crossing a country road, entered a meadow where tall grasses began to tickle her thighs and calves. Almost immediately, swirling yellow dots surrounded her, revealing themselves to be tiny insects, flying in swarms over the vast expanse of vegetation. The girl laughed aloud, trying to catch them in her childish fingers. Her black hair broke free from its long, dark braid, spilling down her back and white nightgown.

The tickling sensation on the skin of her hands persisted. A little voice in her head begged her to rub her hands together and finally feel free. Alina pursed her lips, unable to resist the temptation. And when she did, she could no longer suppress the euphoria she was feeling. Now, instead of tiny, glowing insects, balls of light appeared in her small palms. The feeling of freedom and strength that accompanied this filled the girl's heart with an almost unbridled joy. The petite brunette began to laugh joyfully and run across the meadow, constantly creating new, tiny projectiles of light. The bugs seemed to follow her as their leader, forming long, luminous glows behind her. Alina felt happy and let the tall grass lash her thighs as her bare feet were trampling the soft carpet of plants with grace and carefree abandon.

Finally, the girl stopped to catch her breath. And then she heard shouts coming from the village. Someone was loudly calling someone's name, and the call was equal parts terror and rage. A childlike panic began to creep into Alina's heart, and she realized almost immediately that it was about her. She had left the house without even closing the door behind her. Besides, she would recognize her father's voice anywhere; he was certainly worried about her, repeatedly telling her how dangerous it was to leave the house at night, given all the nighttime attacks by enemy militias penetrating the west of the country.

"Alina!" someone actually called out to her, and the sound of their voice was laced with fear. "Alina, are you there?"

The girl didn't know what to do now. On the one hand, she understood that she should return home, but on the other, she was terrified of what awaited her there. She feared punishment, especially from her mother, who could be terribly strict with her. Sometimes Anna Starkov would deny her daughter meals all day, punishing her for much smaller offenses. Alina didn't even want to think about what would happen to her for leaving the house alone in the middle of the night. She remembered her father telling her to think more carefully about her behavior, but from a young age, she had acted on emotions. She had always been guided by her heart and empathy, which, according to her mother, could only get her into trouble. Her father had used to be on her side, and she had been able to always hide in his arms. But recently, he'd changed dramatically. He'd become thoughtful and silent, agreeing to practically everything his wife expected of him.

Alina felt her heart pounding harder and harder as she was carefully navigating the tall grass toward the house. She decided to hide behind a tree to see how furious her parents were. She'd have to reveal herself later anyway, but she preferred to prepare herself first. So she crept to the very edge of the yard, hiding behind a tall, spreading oak tree. She saw the glow of a lantern in her father's hand, as he was staring into the darkness with unconcealed fear on his face.

"I told you you're too gentle with her, Dimitriy!" her mother complained, pacing back and forth around the entrance. "You can't discipline her, and she's becoming more and more disobedient! Think about what will happen in two or three years? Where will her wayward nature take us?"

Her father slumped his shoulders slightly, but continued to stare into the darkness with terrified eyes. The girl knew the time for punishment would come later, but for now, it was all about saving his child.

"Have you considered what will happen if we can't control her power and Alina finally figures out how to use it?" Anna continued lamenting. "What will you do then? And how will you stop her? Look how curious she is, and that means trouble, Dimitriy! What will your master say if he finds out that you didn't keep an eye on her before she was old enough? Wasn't it supposed to be that you'd hand her over to him for further upbringing, because he had some special plans for her?" The accusations that followed were like blades cutting through the darkness, exposing every corner of her husband's soul.

Her father lowered the lantern for a moment, then finally spoke.

"Shut up, Anna. Alina is still my child, and the master knows it. We only want the best for her. My daughter was born for great things. And she will receive them when she's ready," Dimitriy informed his wife, raising the lantern again and staring into the darkness.

"But you understand that you should watch her especially closely now, right? What if she starts using her powers before her time? What then? The world isn't ready for the first Sun Summoner yet. The master insisted that Alina shouldn't reveal herself until she's of age! Do you really trust us to control her for that long, when even at six she loves to run away from home?" The girl's mother persisted, always the type who had to be right.

Dimitriy grew serious, stubbornly searching the darkness across from him for something that might give him hope. Something that might help him endure this.

"We will control her, Anna. And when the world is ready for The Sun Summoner, then Alina will change the world," he informed his wife, his voice devoid of emotion. "Now, can you finally shut up and help me look for her?"

The future queen of Ravka opened her eyes, and a bright light burst beneath her eyelids with such force that she had to shield her face with her hand for a moment to avoid being blinded. After a while, she withdrew her hand, adjusting to the brightness all around her. The sun had long since risen, but she still didn't have the strength to get out of bed. She was shaking from her nightmare, and something told her she had a clear reason for it. The dream had left a mark on her more than she expected. She remembered the fireflies, and she hadn't forgotten how her parents had died. It all made too much sense, as if The Sun Summoner had just regained a lost memory. But at that very moment, the question arose – why had she repressed it? Was it the trauma, or perhaps something had forced her to do so? And why was everything suddenly coming back to her, when she hadn't even thought about it for so many years? Was it the pregnancy? And if so, what did that mean for her?

Alina understood one thing. If she continued to postpone everything, she would only make her situation worse. It seemed she couldn't avoid talking to The Apparat, as his final words to her suggested that Ravka's highest monk might know more than he let on. The Sun Summoner couldn't even explain to herself why she had been so reluctant to trust him. Perhaps she was afraid of the answer he would give her? Or perhaps she was afraid it would negatively impact her relationship with the Darkling?

The thought of Aleksander made her turn her head to the side on the pillow, sensing the delicate scent of his body still wafting over her. It was heavy and elusive, just like him. A bit musky, yet at the same time, like an impenetrable forest. Alina would recognize it anywhere, even with her eyes closed. And now the place next to her was empty, and a powerful longing filled her unconsciously from within, as if someone had ripped a piece of her soul from her. As twin flames, they were bound tighter than anything else in this world. The universe had made them the perfect complement to each other, and though she would never have admitted it once, she understood it better than anyone else when the Black General had died and her reality crumbled.

It seemed that today was going to change everything. And the sooner the future queen of Ravka got this over with, the sooner she might find some solace.

Alina pushed herself up from the pillow into a sitting position, but then almost immediately sank back down. The dizziness she was now feeling was so intense that if she stood up too quickly, it could cause her to fall. Terror filled her completely from within, until she placed her hand on her stomach and began whispering soothing words under her breath. She felt the gentle movements of her children, guessing they were responsible for her condition. Whenever her unborn twins became more active, her physical state deteriorated significantly. The thought of them developing normally reassured her, but at the same time, it filled her with fear, wondering if she was strong enough to survive until the day she gave birth. However, she decided not to worry about that now. She had Aleksander and his unexpected attacks related to merzost to worry about. She knew that the Shadow Summoner carried all of Ravka on his shoulders, and now he had added worries about the riots and Zoya's capture. The Darkling could protect her, but Alina saw more than she let on. Therefore, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Only if she learned anything would she share her findings with The Black General.

Finally, the light kicks beneath her hand calmed. The girl took a deep breath and decided to stand. This time, the dizziness was almost imperceptible. The Sun Summoner looked at the comfortable dress and clean underwear tidily folded on the dresser next to her. Someone had done it so neatly that she felt a tightness in her chest. Since no one had entered this room in the meantime, this could only mean one thing. Alina couldn't believe it, but wiping a lone tear of emotion from her pale cheek with the heel of her hand, she reached for her clothes and, with them in her arms, went to take a bath.

A few minutes later, she was walking down the corridor toward the palace chapel. She passed Aleksander's office, pausing briefly at his door and hearing him discuss something with Ivan. Reassured that The Black General was doing well, she suppressed the twinge of anxiety that grew with each step closer to her destination. When she finally reached the entrance, she took a deep breath and stepped into the dim light of the small place of worship, where the scent of incense, as usually, was hanging heavy in the air.

As always, The Sun Summoner saw a portrait of herself and the Darkling positioned in the center of the room. Sometimes she still couldn't believe her life had changed so much, but day after day she was grateful that she had managed to free herself from the tentacles of her immaturity and the manipulation of others. Her childish stubbornness had hurt so many people that it was embarrassing to admit it. She knew Aleksander never brought it up, but she still sometimes found herself thinking that she was literally on the verge of destroying everything that had ever mattered.

A shiver ran through her body as the future queen of Ravka headed toward the door located in the side aisle. She was already very close, just rounding the small altar, when someone emerged from the sacristy, standing face to face with her. Alina held her breath, not entirely prepared for this. The Apparat himself, however, didn't look at all surprised to see her. Quite the opposite. He clasped his hands together in front of him, concealing them in the sleeves of his dark robe.

He then approached The Sun Summoner in his typically enigmatic manner. The girl almost flinched, but she knew that to learn anything from this man, she had to face him as an equal. So, despite her strange unease, Alina automatically straightened. She was, after all, a Saint, a Grisha who had managed to destroy the void. And if she wanted to be treated as such, she should learn to be proud of it.

"Sankta Alina," The Apparat told her, seeing that she was still hesitant. "How can I help you, my Lady?"

The future Queen of Ravka swallowed hard and gestured to the bench opposite the altar.

"Shall we sit, monk?" she suggested, then turned her back to him and walked in the indicated direction.

The priest followed her like a shadow, practically floating on air. A moment later, they were sitting side by side, shoulder to shoulder, and she couldn't fight the strange feeling of cold creeping up her spine. Prolonging it didn't change anything. Besides, that wasn't why she'd come here. If she started talking nonsense, she wouldn't learn anything.

"Tell me, monk, do you know who the first Sun Summoner is?" she asked, mustering the courage to look him in the eye.

The Apparat cocked his head to the side, but Alina didn't show that this frightened her.

"You, Sankta Alina, are the first and only Sun Summoner," he replied, not adding anything more as he waited for the girl's reaction.

She didn't even blink, sitting even straighter in her seat.

"How can I be? Last time we met, you said something like that, monk, that's been bothering me..." The future queen of Ravka paused, wondering how best to put it all into words.

"I remember what I said, my lady," he replied, literally piercing her with his gaze. "That the first Sun Summoner has been created."

Alina flinched, almost imperceptibly.

"But if it’s me, like you say, how would I be created?" she asked, feeling all her thoughts race through her head in complete chaos. What did that mean to her? And why did everything seem to indicate that this was the case? "It doesn't make sense..." The girl said it more to herself, but to her surprise, The Apparat decided to speak this time.

"But that makes sense, my Lady. The universe needs balance. And only out of balance can something be born that destroys chaos," the priest replied, looking so deeply into her eyes that it pierced her soul.

"Merzost..." The Sun Summoner whispered, more to herself than to her interlocutor, feeling dizzy again.

The high priest of Ravka had an inscrutable expression, but there was no doubt that this was precisely what he meant.

"And how to create a balance out of chaos, my Lady?" The Apparat asked her, but when she remained silent for a long time, he added, "By adding more chaos to it."

Alina had to lean back against the bench, feeling something begin to choke her chest, and a wave of bitterness spread down her throat.

"But there is only one person who could do such things, monk," she stated, her voice trembling. "And I'm twenty-three years old, and he's been dead for centuries..."

The high priest of Ravka didn't answer her. Instead, he rose from his pew, towering over his still-sitting queen despite his short stature.

"You'll find the answer yourself, my Lady," he told her after a moment. "Perhaps he's an imitator, or perhaps..." With that, The Apparat bowed to The Sun Summoner and walked away toward the side aisle, where, with the sound of a door softly slamming shut, he disappeared into the sacristy.

The girl was unable to move. She was shaking constantly, and emotions she hadn't even expected swirled within her body, seeking release. She clenched her hands on the edge of the pew and began to breathe deeply. Was it possible that someone had been controlling her fate practically from the moment of her birth? And if so, why? What guarantee did this person have that her plan would be carried out, considering Alina had been sent to an orphanage and nearly had died either in the ranks of the First Army or from wasting sickness? But what did that mean for her and Aleksander? If her suspicions were correct, did he himself know that a member of his family was still alive? No, he couldn't have the slightest idea, because he would certainly have sought that person out. Not out of mere sentimentality, but because he was aware of the Morozovas' power. The Black General was a pragmatic and precautionary man. He wouldn't allow anyone related to him to act on their own unless he had some control over the situation.

Alina was so lost in thought and nervous that she didn't even notice someone approaching her. She didn't hear footsteps coming down the center of the nave, nor the creak of a door slamming shut behind someone. A moment later, someone dressed head to toe in black knelt before her, their heavy boots creaking softly on the parquet floor. The person gently grabbed her hand, the other tilting her chin up slightly so she could look them in the eye.

Aleksander was staring at her intently and with unconcealed concern. And that, in fact, sobered The Sun Summoner from her dark thoughts almost immediately. She imagined what it would be like if she allowed the Darkling to worry about her. So she placed her hand on his cheek and forced a smile.

"Sasha," she said, tenderly running her thumb just under his lower eyelid. "What are you doing here?"

He leaned his face toward the source of the touch, closing his eyes slightly.

"I thought we'd have a late breakfast together, but the guards told me you were here. And I immediately guessed it was about The Apparat." The Black General opened his eyes, then released her hand and rose from the church floor with a swift movement. He then sat down next to Alina on the bench and took her hand again, making her reflexively turn to face him so she could look him in the eye.

"Yes, that's true," she replied, flinching slightly. "It turns out he thinks the first Sun Summoner… is me. And that there was no one before me."

The Darkling didn't seem surprised. The future Queen of Ravka could see it in his eyes, though he tried not to show it. But in light of what they had already established, this information gave new meaning to Alina's place in his own family history.

"Then I have no choice but to speak with The Apparat," he told her, carefully controlling his emotions. "But I think we should wait a few days first to let him down. Don't treat him like an enemy, Alya," he added, looking her straight in the eye. "But don't completely trust him either. I've done that ever since I entered into this arrangement with him. He prioritizes his religious interests above all else. And as long as those align with mine, everything goes my way. But I would never trust him completely. Neither should you," The Shadow Summoner advised her, reaching for her hand to give it a gentle squeeze. "Besides, let me think this through. The game I'm playing with him is long and complicated. And I want me to win it."

"Sasha, you have a lot on your plate already. You don't have to do this, or does it make any difference?" Alina asked him, speaking more to herself than to him. "I always thought I was one of a kind, and now it's confirmed. But I didn't think a third party was involved."

Aleksander leaned toward her, brushing her hair back from her forehead, then kissed her.

"It doesn't really change anything," he assured her, his lips lingering on her skin a little longer than seemed necessary. "But you're tormenting yourself about it, and I can't let that happen."

Alina hadn't even realized she'd been waiting so long for such a declaration from him. They were just words, yet she felt a great sense of relief. Usually, things between them were the complete opposite. She was the one comforting the Darkling, but the knowledge that he could do it too perhaps shouldn't have surprised her so much, yet it did it anyway, and it was an incredible feeling. So unexpected and overwhelming that a single tear escaped from beneath the girl's eyelid, running down her cheek and reaching her chin.

"Thank you, Sasha," she replied, closing her eyes.

His lips never left her forehead.

"Always," The Black General stated, infusing her with a calmness that – as The Sun Summoner had thought a moment ago – she had irrevocably lost.

***

When a knock sounded at the door behind him, Aleksander Morozova wasn't surprised. He managed to set aside the report he was reading, then glanced at the clock on the wall to check the time. It was already late afternoon, and his Grisha would be leaving for dinner soon. Perhaps one of them had decided to drop by and report to him. The Black General usually ate alone, as he didn't have time to stick to a set meal schedule. His job effectively prevented him from doing so, and he spent practically every moment at work when he wasn't having to leave Os Alta to check on the situation at the checkpoints on both Ravkan borders.

"Come in!" he called, straightening up in his chair. He reached for the glass of water on the edge of his desk and took a long sip. Then he set it down, waiting for the person who had decided to visit him to enter.

However, The Black General hadn't expected such an encounter. He frowned when the door opened, revealing someone who rarely left The Grand Palace. Most often, if he did, he wandered the garden, spouting religious nonsense to his Grisha. He rarely visited the Little Palace itself, however, and although Aleksander saw how dangerous and influential his guest was, he didn't expect him to seek contact himself, because if they did speak, it was in the Tsar's presence.

The Apparat slipped into the office, like the shadow he was. The Darkling had known him for years, and he was aware that his face had always seemed the same to him. It had no fixed expression, which made anyone who looked at him uneasy. But Aleksander Morozova knew people like him, and he could see beneath that facade. It hid a man of extreme intelligence and cunning, but above all, an excellent observer. His feigned stoicism was another of the traits that distinguished the high priest of Ravka from others The Black General had seen at court. For the same reason others feared him, he always treated him like a seasoned player.

"What a meeting," the Darkling said to him, waiting for The Apparat to approach his desk. Then he nodded toward one of seats, waiting for him to take his place. "Your Holiness? Here? Instead of listening to some confession of the Tsar?" he asked, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers across his stomach. "I must admit I'm honored."

The priest's expression was impenetrable, but his piercing gaze examined everything and assessed his abilities. Aleksander didn't trust the man, but he knew he deserved respect. Someone who, like him, managed to shake the entire royal family, making them jump before him like trained dogs, not only deserved to be taken seriously but also seemed to know how to pull the right strings. Fanatic or not, The Apparat always went over dead bodies to achieve his goal, making him someone the Darkling wanted little to do with, but someone who shouldn't be underestimated. Religion was a powerful weapon in a land like Ravka. Simple otkazats’ya were easily manipulated, and although The Black General had his Second Army, the high priest fed on the strength of ordinary people – their fear, their piety, and their need for a higher power to protect them.

"The Starless Saint," the priest addressed Aleksander, causing him to stiffen slightly, narrowing his eyes at him. "The wind whispers to me as I walk through the garden that people gather to worship you, my ruthless General," he told him, using his ever-enigmatic tone.

The Shadow Summoner's gaze slid along the priest's silhouette. Whatever the man truly wanted from him, the reason for his visit must have been important enough to lure him from his safe haven in the library or palace chapel.

"People worship many things, monk," he replied, though he too was hearing more and more about a secret covenant that supposedly supported his claim to the throne, even though Aleksander never openly shared his plans with anyone – not even Ivan.

The monk was undeterred, continuing to pierce The Black General's soul with his penetrating gaze.

"Indeed, yes, General Kirigan," he told him, then cocked his head slightly to the side. "Indeed, yes. But sometimes certain sentiments become strong enough to change something. And something tells me you have that chance, Starless Saint. Like no one before you, and probably no one after you."

The Darkling didn't trust him an inch. He could always be sent here by the Tsar to test his loyalty. And though Aleksander Morozova hated the Lantsovs, for now he had no choice but to continue serving them. He longed for the day when he could seize the throne. And that would finally happen when he finally found his Sun Summoner.

"What are you trying here, monk, that is my question," The Black General told him after a moment, narrowing his eyes even further. "I know you wouldn't stoop to such a lowly act, so you must have had compelling reasons. And either you give them to me, or you can return to the Lantsovs or your religion."

The high priest of Ravka didn't seem to be discouraged in the slightest. Sometimes the Darkling regretted that they were so similar in so many ways. This made the art of conversation between them more difficult, as each understood the other's desires. Manipulation didn't quite work here. And while Aleksander Morozova loved a challenge, in this case the fate of the entire country hung in the balance. The Apparat was interested only in the religious aspects of power, while the Shadow Summoner was interested in everything else. And the unwelcome thought that they might complement each other often crossed the Black General's mind, for with all their strengths in hand, the Darkling would be unstoppable.

"The wind whispers in the chimney that the cult formed in your honor can accomplish great things, The Starless Saint," the priest explained, gazing intently at him. "I am not your enemy, and you are not mine. We have one thing in common that brings us together. And do you know what it is?" Aleksander said nothing, merely narrowing his eyes even further. "We can reach an understanding across our differences, as long as we both gain tangible benefits from it."

The Shadow Summoner continued to lean back in his chair, eyeing the monk.

"And what benefits are those, priest?" he asked, never breaking their eye contact.

The Apparat smiled for the first time, which, for someone with such a stoic appearance, proved to have a striking effect. Except it didn't work on someone like The Black General, who had probably encountered every type of person in his immortal life.

"I, too, am committed to placing Grisha on the throne," the short, cunning monk finally told Aleksander. "Because I know that when that happens, the belief in the Saints will become dominant in Ravka. And I care for nothing less than that unity of faith, the Starless Saint." At this, The Apparat's dark eyes lit up slightly, as if this were all he himself desired.

The Shadow Summoner stared at him appraisingly for a moment, seeing his interlocutor's face begin to change slightly. His fanaticism began to emerge from beneath his carefully fitted mask. And this told him that this man would not back down if given the chance to achieve his goals. And sometimes, it was precisely such allies that became most useful when the critical moment for action approached.

"What do you propose, monk?" the Darkling asked him, promising nothing, but hoping instead that the cleric would reveal his cards to him.

This didn't mean he agreed to the alliance, but merely provided him with food for thought. Was it worth entering into a pact with someone who, like him, stood to gain far more from such cooperation than he stood to lose?

"When the time is right, we will stage a coup, Starless Saint," The Apparat told him, his piercing, penetrating gaze once again seeing right through The Shadow Summoner. "You will retain the throne, and you will hand over to me the religious leadership of all of Ravka, including the West. What do you say to this, General Kirigan? Don't you think we can accomplish more together?"

Aleksander Morozova shook himself out of his reverie, pounding his fist with all his might on the wooden door of the sacristy. He most often summoned the monk to his office and spoke with him there, something he also tried to keep to an absolute minimum. Today, however, he wanted it to happen here, where the atmosphere of the place itself could reveal things that had previously remained hidden from the eyes of those who did not know how to look.

A short man in dark robes appeared in the doorway. As soon as his gaze met the Darkling's, there was no surprise on the priest's face. Quite the opposite. The Apparat looked as if he had been eagerly awaiting this meeting and was actually surprised that it had come so late.

"Starless Saint," he greeted his guest, opening the way for The Black General to enter.

The room was no different from any other back room in a religious building. It contained various objects used during mass, relics, and prayer books. There was also a large table and four chairs, and it was towards this destination that Aleksander headed, sitting on one of the seats and waiting for the priest to do the same.

And only when he did, the Darkling rested his elbows on the tabletop, placing them among the books, and said, "It seems you knew about my grandfather, Ilya, and you didn't deign to share this knowledge with me."

The priest's expression remained unfathomable.

"I don't quite understand what you mean, Starless Saint," he told him in a calm voice, clearly ignoring the fury emanating from Aleksander, which, though controlled, grew more evident with each passing second. Then he leaned forward, unfazed by the fact that he had, in a sense, broken the pact they had previously made. "It's common knowledge that your family has always had an influence on what happened in Ravka. Directly or indirectly, it wasn't that important. That's why I came to you then, Starless Saint. Because I understood that your chance to take power had arrived," the priest stated, exuding confidence and his characteristic enigmatic calm.

Aleksander narrowed his eyes at him, because The Apparat was right. They had never cared what the other planned, as long as their plans were the same.

"Is some copycat of Ilya behind Alina's birth? And does that mean I allowed someone to lead me by the nose from the start?" The Black General asked after a moment, radiating a threat that was testing their relationship to its limits.

"Only a fool would lead you by the nose, Starless Saint," the priest replied, and the Darkling would have known if the man had tried to lie to him. He, on the other hand, looked as if he had never been more serious. "I thought so too, which is why I didn't share my doubts with you," he stated, and that unsettling gaze of his pierced The Shadow Summoner's soul once again.

"You didn't share your doubts about the existence of a copycat of someone in my family? Someone who perhaps knew how to use merzost? You're asking for trouble, monk," Aleksander ground out the words through his teeth, telling himself to maintain self-control.

But The Apparat was calm. He might seem calculating, but something told The Black General he wouldn't have taken such a foolish risk unless he felt it was still in keeping with their shared plans.

"The only thing that matters, Starless Saint, is that you seize power," he told him, refusing to be swayed. "And that could only happen if you elevate Sankta Alina to the altar. And that's what you had to focus on, moi Tsar. And look how far you've come. Besides..." The monk trailed off, and The Shadow Summoner narrowed his eyes at him, not in the mood for verbal guesswork.

The Apparat looked at him calmly, and then he too leaned forward in his chair, making practically the same gesture as the Darkling had earlier.

"Besides, I don't think he's a copycat at all, moi Tsar," he added after a long silence. "And I think it's good that you figured it out on your own in your own time. Because it wouldn't have served Ravka well for you to be chasing ghosts in the middle of a war raging on all fronts, Starless Saint. Without you, this country will fall, and you had to stay focused, otherwise everything might have crumbled. And I must admit, I also care about you reaching the very top."

The Black General was still seething inside, but he had to agree with one thing – if he had actually known that someone in his family had been involved in the birth of the first Sun Summoner, he would probably have invested all his time and resources searching for that person. It might even have meant that Alina wouldn't have been born at all. Whichever way you looked at it, whoever was behind it seemed very intelligent. And The Apparat was indeed right. Aleksander carried too much responsibility at the time to risk the success of his entire plan and the fight for Ravka's independence.

"If it's not a copycat, so who is it then, monk?" he asked the Darkling, even though something told him he knew it perfectly well and all he needed was confirmation.

The high priest leaned forward, his wrinkled hands finally emerging from beneath the sleeves of his long robe.

"You know it yourself, moi Tsar, you know it," he said simply, sending a chill down Aleksander's spine.

It made no sense. If Ilya was alive, Baghra would surely know. She never let on, and it was completely out of character for her. If she had known her father had survived, she would have used it against the Darkling. To manipulate him, perhaps even blackmail him. Yet she never uttered a word about it. Everything that seemed unusual to her was also unrealistic. Because his mother always had ulterior motives. And she never cared more than gaining control and dominance over her son, and thus thwarting his plans.

"Sankt Ilya's body was never found, moi Tsar," The Apparat said after a moment. "Haven't you wondered why, as you yourself told me, you ran away all your life, while your mother never left your side? Even when you were already an adult?" the monk asked him, further confusing him. "Think about it, Starless Saint, and you'll come to your own conclusions. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to prepare for the service. We can continue this conversation whenever you like, moi Tsar."

The Black General shook himself out of his reverie. He'd always thought of Baghra as someone who had preferred to watch his every move, to know what he had been always doing. He'd thought she needed his protection when she had deliberately refused to use her powers, which left her weak and dependent on him, especially physically, because mentally, she still had had a knack for forcing him to do what she wanted through psychological blackmail like no other. But if she knew her father was alive, her motives would change completely. Their constant traveling across the continent had never seemed random to the Darkling. And later, for no reason, it had stopped. When Aleksander had been about fourteen, his mother decided to join a larger group of Grisha, claiming they would be safer by blending in. This had been right after the hunter had attacked them in the dead of winter, and the Darkling had to kill him to save Baghra, whom he had wanted to hurt. When spring had arrived, his mother suddenly had stopped insisting on constant travel. It had seemed strange for a boy accustomed to constant relocation, but he still hadn’t asked questions. Perhaps something had happened then that confirmed her belief that she had complete control over her life. And over her own son, who would never leave her anyway, because she had made him so dependent on her that he had felt obligated to protect her.

Aleksander finally rose from his seat, leaving the sacristy. He saw The Apparat working at the altar, but he momentarily lost interest. They still had common interests, but The Black General now realized that he should be very careful. Who knew who the monk was really in league with, and whether what he was saying was sincere, or whether he was simply acting on two fronts? He was certainly solely concerned with religious goals. And the Darkling could guarantee him that, but only if he was certain he hadn't been the target of betrayal.

Aleksander decided to return to his room and review his grandfather's journal, which he kept locked in his desk. Perhaps there were clues in the correspondence between Lizaveta and Baghra, but before, The Shadow Summoner hadn't really known what to look for. Now he would read it from a completely different perspective. And he would do so immediately, as soon as he checked on Alina.

The Black General had managed to reach his office, intending to go to his precious girl first, but Ivan, standing by the door, and his strange expression made him pause beside him, frowning.

"Sir," his Heartrender greeted him. "I took the liberty of waiting for you here. Inside, the messenger from Shu Han, guarded by four oprichniki, is awaiting you."

The frown on Aleksander Morozova's forehead deepened.

"The messenger from Shu Han?" he asked his deputy, not expecting something so soon.

He'd only just received a letter from Makhi Kir-Taban, and yet a few days later, someone wanted to meet with him again. Strange and unusual. Unless, of course, someone was trying to stir things up in West Ravka again, perhaps after Zoya Nazyalensky failed to report her presence to the person she was working with.

Ivan nodded, pressing his hand against the doorknob of the office door.

"Yes, moi Soverenyi, it's rumored that Grisha are disappearing at the border. This man has a letter with him, sir, but I haven't checked it until you decide what to do with it," his Colonel explained to Aleksander.

The Shadow Summoner instinctively narrowed his eyes and walked through the door, which was wide open before him. Inside, an inconspicuous-looking middle-aged man, dressed in traveling clothes, was sitting in a chair in front of his desk. Four guards guarded him, but the man remained calm, clutching an envelope decorated with a wax seal. The stranger looked like a typical Shu and was unobtrusive. Spotting The Black General, who had circled him wide and then stood opposite him, the messenger rose from his seat and obediently handed him the correspondence he was holding.

Aleksander gave the envoy an appraising glance, then took the letter from his hands. It turned out the seal bore no family crest, and no one had signed the envelope. The Shadow Summoner narrowed his eyes at the stranger before even deciding to open it.

"Who sent you here?" he asked the messenger, seeing the man watching him with growing fear.

"I don't know, moi Tsar," he replied, fiddling with the hem of his yellowing shirt. "These people simply paid me a lot, only to instruct me to tell you it was about the missing Grisha," the envoy stammered.

The Darkling glanced at Ivan, standing next to the oprichniki, who nodded to him. So the man wasn't lying. As The Shadow Summoner suspected, he was merely acting as an intermediary between Aleksander and whoever had sent him the letter.

"Take him to the interrogation room and await my orders. I'll see what's going on and then decide what to do with him," The Black General ordered his guards. They took the messenger by the elbows and, nodding to their commander, left his office, taking Shu with them, who seemed genuinely afraid.

The Shadow Summoner sank into his high chair, holding the envelope in his metal hand. Ivan looked at him silently for a second, waiting to hear if he would receive any orders. His commander remained silent for a moment, pondering something. Only then did he regain interest in his Heartrender, looking him straight in the eye.

"Go, see if this man says anything more," Aleksander ordered his Corporalki. "I'll review the letter and then summon you."

His Colonel bowed low before him and left his office without a word. When the door closed behind him, The Black General finally broke the seal and pulled out a single sheet of paper, dotted with small but elegant handwriting. A silken, ball-shaped bundle also fell from within, which The Shadow Summoner placed on his desk for the time being. And then the Darkling began to read the mysterious correspondence.

I've waited a long time for this moment, Black General, this person wrote. Years passed, and I believed you would finally reach where you are now. But don't underestimate the threat looming over Ravka. The former queen of Shu Han, Makhi, could do you more harm than you realize. And she's already begun to do so. That's why I'm taking the wounded Grisha to me and nursing them back to health. Don't trust what you see, Starless Saint. Or those close to you. Now, check the package I sent you. You'll receive all the answers you need.

Aleksander felt his hand reflexively tighten around the paper. Everything was starting to fall into place, but he was missing only the final piece of the puzzle. So he reached for the silk bundle, unrolling it. A familiar-looking claw ring fell onto his metal hand. Except that another similar one had been left behind in the temple at the former heart of The Shadow Fold.

***

Five days later, somewhere in the mountains between Shu Han and Ravka

A frighteningly thin man in a hood was toying with a rune held between his fingers. The fire was crackling brightly in the fireplace, even though it was full summer outside, and the air temperature was very high. But for someone whose body was composed almost entirely of merzost, bodily sensations seemed distorted, and his painfully slow immortality blurred the line between perception and cognition. Between matter and spirit. This man seemed detached, yet at the same time remarkably sensitive to what was happening around him. He simply didn't react to it. And he didn't need to. The present no longer had the slightest effect on him.

The only thing that gave him no peace was this relentless pain. Every second, every minute, marked him with another dose of suffering. One might think that physical torture completely confused the person subjected to it. Instead, his thoughts were pure and focused on his own task. He only wanted to die, but no solution known to humanity could free him from his cruel punishment. He needed him. He needed them. He needed her. Only in them did he see his hope that this would one day end, and he himself would find the peace he longed for.

When the door opened behind him, the man, as always, remained silent. Only when Igor began to speak did he listen intently, waiting for new information that might prove useful to him in some way. The time had not yet come when manipulating The Sun Summoner's thoughts would pay off sufficiently. Children in her womb were still too little, but as time passed, the connection between them and him would strengthen, and then Alina Starkov would see him much more often.

"Sir, the messenger from Os Kervo has just returned," his trusted servant told him.

The bony fingers clutching the rune froze for a moment.

"Did he deliver the letter?" the hooded man asked after a moment in his deep, dark voice.

"Yes, sir. Apparently they only held him for a few hours and then released him," Igor explained.

The stranger by the fireplace smiled out of the corner of his mouth. But for someone like him, it happened so rarely that it looked more like a grimace.

"Excellent," he remarked, and the rune between his fingers began to move again. "And now we have to wait for my grandson to put all the pieces of the puzzle together."

666chapter666

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Notes:

Hello loves 🖤
Next Sunday, next update.
Sex scene in this chapter was written for Ola & Eira. My best cheerleaders - thank you, it was the hottest I have written so far. I wanted to keep it sensual and respectful, even if it definitely was explicit one. I love you, girls 💗
I hope some secrets have been revealed finally. But it is just the beginning. Are you ready for what comes next? 🖤
Happy new week and I love you,
Ewa 🖤

Chapter 9: The Man Who Was Once a Son

Summary:

"I'm not the one who would do anything for..." Here her gaze fell on Alina's rounded belly again. "...power. Did you stoop so low to spread your legs for him and become pregnant? Well, I don't think you have the right to lecture me, then, since you've turned into nothing more than a common concubine." The Squaller somehow gathered saliva in her mouth and spat at the feet of The Sun Summoner, who didn't move an inch, shocked to be insulted in this way in the presence of men.
The girl didn't even know how to respond. She was literally dumbfounded, but the incredibly strong grip on her hand told her the Darkling wouldn't let it go. And indeed, she didn't have to wait long for Aleksander to show his thoughts.
The Black General released her hand, then, leaving Alina in the middle of the cell, he approached the dark-haired Etherealki, and without warning, he bent down to grab her wrist. He yanked her hand with all his might, pressing it at the base so hard that the brunette howled in pain, her fingers uncurling. And then The Shadow Summoner made a small movement of his palm, followed immediately by a shriek so piercing that the future queen of Ravka even flinched slightly.

Notes:

❗❗THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SOME VIOLENCE❗❗
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

❗❗THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SOME VIOLENCE❗❗

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The beginning of September in West Ravka was warm and abundant with frequent rains, which, thanks to the exceptionally favorable weather this year, caused the fertile lands in this region of the country to yield abundant crops. Harvest had just begun, so ships sailing under foreign flags were entering the port of Os Kervo in large numbers, carrying cargoes of grain, which was one of the main export goods. The waterfront was bustling with activity regardless of the time of day. The Western capital never slept, always bustling with people connected by various interests. Since the incident involving the customs reduction by the central government in Os Alta, the situation seemed to have been brought under control for a long time. Foreign merchants from Shu Han paid their full dues, and trade continued smoothly, just as before, while the treasury of the local Regent steadily increased.

And so it had continued until today, when the sky over Os Kervo blazed once again. The sky was glowing with pink, orange, yellow, and purple, and wisps of grey-black smoke streaked across the sky. The sun was just setting below the horizon, but the harbor was still very bright, and the people running around looked like ants when you poked a stick into an anthill. A colorful motley crew built of chaos and panic scattered in all directions, trying to extinguish several simultaneous fires. It took at least several hours before the situation was brought under control. It was already the middle of the night when the residents of Os Kervo finally won the battle against the fire, and now they began to count the losses they had suffered as a result of a series of new arson attacks.

Ivan was walking along the waterfront, issuing further instructions to the residents of the largest town in West Ravka. He shouted reassuring commands at them, pointing to the spot where a public speech would soon be given. The new Regent's deputy ordered the terrified otkazats’ya to get together in one place, knowing that this was what his General would expect of him. All the injured and their families gathered in a large square in the very center of Os Kervo, pressing into the middle of the courtyard in a confused mass. A detachment of Corporalki controlled the situation to prevent violence, as the crowd was practically vibrating with negative emotions. Some of these people had lost their life's work, having either owned the burned boats or been sailors employed on the completely destroyed merchant ships. There were also the others who had made a living selling grain exported from the port to neighboring kingdoms. For all of them, this new series of arson attacks meant starvation or extreme poverty. It's no wonder, then, that they had difficulty suppressing their negative emotions, and because of this, The Heartrenders had to use their abilities to cool the fervor of angry or distraught otkazats’ya, especially those in the front rows.

Suddenly, the cheers died down almost immediately as the crowd began to part before the small procession marching through the center. Six oprichniki surrounded a tall, exceptionally handsome man dressed head to toe in black. Although the air temperature was still high, he wore his signature black kefta and high riding boots. People fell silent, simply looking at him. This man commanded respect just by the way he moved, not to mention the aura radiating from him. There was hardly a person in Os Kervo who didn't know their new Regent. The otkazats’ya still remembered who had saved them from death during the Fjerdan invasion. And although they were now demanding justice for the destroyed property, the presence of The Black General in the town square immediately tied their tongues in knots.

Aleksander stepped into the center of the vast courtyard, slowly glancing around. His Corporalki waited for any instructions from him, but he nodded stiffly, letting them know he was in control. Besides, the people gathered in the square had already fallen obediently silent, and though some mothers continued to shush their children, whispers about The Starless Saint echoed around them, gradually replacing anger and disappointment with respect and fear.

And then the Darkling addressed his inhabitants, his voice resonant and unwavering.

"People of West Ravka!" The Shadow Summoner began, and all eyes turned toward him. "We're dealing with sabotage in our port again! All those responsible for these incidents will be punished, and I won't rest until I bring them to justice! This is undoubtedly a way to exploit the fact that we're beginning to return to our former glory after the war just ended. Someone doesn't like the fact that we're once again transporting goods to all corners of the world, taking over all the markets we temporarily lost!" Aleksander's voice was full of inner strength and determination. "This is also our enemies' way of creating chaos and disrupting the loading operations! As soon as all losses are assessed, a list of those affected by the recent arson attacks will be prepared, and I will take care of determining the reimbursement amount! Those whose ships were burned will be given the choice of compensation paid in monetary currency from several available options, or ships will be ordered for them from local shipbuilders, which will most likely be ready in the spring! All those who lost their jobs as a result of these unfortunate events will be transferred to other facilities, if possible, or they can also apply for unemployment benefits paid until the spring, until their jobs are restored! The money will be paid from the city treasury, so all those who can prove they suffered damages as a result of the fires will be included in the payment! The Harbormaster will process your claims starting tomorrow. You have one week to report to the administrator and add your name to the list of injured parties. Unfortunately, you will have to prove that you are entitled to assistance from city funds. I assure you, however, that no one presenting such grounds for compensation will be ignored! Os Kervo has reserve savings for similar circumstances! Previously, these funds went to Os Alta, but now that I am in charge, they are one of the reserves accumulated alongside money gathered for armaments! Now you can disperse! West Ravka is the safest region in our country and will remain so!" With this, Aleksander finished his speech, looking around with a superiority that gave even more meaning to every word he had uttered.

The people fell silent, then several of them, standing in the front row, began to fall to their knees. Others soon followed suit, joining their hands in supplication.

"All hail The Starless Saint!" cried an elderly man in merchant's garb, and soon more joined him.

"All hail our King!" screamed a slim, dark-haired woman with a baby in her arms, tears of emotion streaming down her cheeks.

The Darkling glanced at his subjects, then turned his back on them, though they continued to worship him. However, he had other duties to attend to. And so he moved toward Ivan, who was standing slightly to the side and waiting for him, stopping opposite him and placing a hand on his shoulder in greeting.

"Moi Soverenyi," said his Colonel, looking The Shadow Summoner meaningfully in the eyes.

"Lead me to the corpses," The Black General asked his Heartrender, to which he nodded, leaving his Corporalki to guard them until the crowd dispersed.

The men hurried along the coastline, where burned masts and whatever could be salvaged from the decks of the destroyed ships were still being laid on the shore. The port crew were searching the shallows, circling in lifeboats and checking for any other casualties from the fires. One glance at the sheer scale of the destruction told Aleksander that at least four ships had been destroyed, one of which was a large catamaran used for long-distance cargo transport. The resulting losses would significantly strain the city's treasury. However, Os Kervo thrived on trade, and if the Darkling came into open conflict with the Merchants' Guild, in addition to external problems, it would lead to something approaching civil war, something the new Regent could not afford. Although his rule was based on the survival of the entire population, senseless bloodshed was never Aleksander Morozova's intention or means of achieving his goals. He was driven to violence solely by necessity, a response to the actions of Ravka's enemies. The Black General's regency was characterized by severity, but also by justice. And the people he ruled over learned not only to appreciate this fact but now couldn't imagine any other ruler. For centuries, the Lantsovs had oppressed their subjects while simultaneously feeding them with beautiful promises. The Darkling made things clear, transforming empty words into reality, which might not have contained beautiful slogans, but guaranteed a good night's sleep and a full stomachs.

"Did you capture anyone alive?" The Black General asked Ivan, allowing himself to be led toward the granary where they had previously interrogated the Shu Han arsonists.

His Corporalki shook his head at this, keeping pace with The Shadow Summoner, who was taking large, shuffling steps, systematically closing the distance between him and the place where all the arson victims had been brought, including those who – as Aleksander had been informed when he had left The Summer Palace several dozen minutes earlier – were among the arsonists themselves.

"No, sir, they all died from fire injuries," his Heartrender explained.

The Darkling frowned, as the words seemed devoid of any logic.

"So how do we know they're arsonists?" he asked as he and Ivan reached the grain store. "Shu is recognized for covering his tracks, but now we suddenly have all the assassins here, and they're dead too?"

His Colonel glanced at the guards guarding the granary entrance, signaling them to step aside. They immediately did so, bowing to the new Regent of West Ravka.

"To be honest, moi Soverenyi, I have exactly the same concerns. But there's something that caught my eye while examining the bodies. And even if they weren't the only perpetrators, they were certainly directly connected," The Corporalki replied, waiting for The Black General to enter the room first and only then entering the vast grain storage room after him.

Aleksander glanced around, seeing that the entire ground was littered with the corpses of those injured in the arson attacks, among whom he couldn't see a single Grisha, only otkazats’ya. Some of them had exotic looks, which immediately told The Shadow Summoner they were foreign merchants who had arrived in Os Kervo at the wrong time. His Healers were kneeling over some of them, trying to determine for sure that all of them were already dead. At the very end were laying the badly mutilated bodies of the five perpetrators. Although they turned out to be as black as coal, Ivan believed they belonged to the arsonists responsible for the entire mess.

The Black General maneuvered among the victims of the arson incident, and the Grisha he encountered among the corpses bowed their heads before him. Finally, his Colonel led him to their destination, sending a pointed look at the blond Healer, urging her to pause her examination of the corpses and prepare to report to him and their commander.

"Marina," Ivan said to her, and she immediately rose from the ground, straightening her kefta.

"Moi Soverenyi," the blonde in the red uniform of The Second Army greeted Aleksander, clearly embarrassed by her appearance. The girl's face and hands were smeared with soot, but the Darkling never paid much attention to such things as long as one of his Grisha contributed to the common cause and the good of all of Ravka. "Forgive me, I didn't expect a personal visit," Marina apologized, a blush blooming on her cheeks.

The Shadow Summoner nodded absently, more interested in the mutilated corpses. Despite the extensive charring, it was immediately obvious that the dead were citizens of Shu Han. As with the initial arson attacks, the suspected perpetrators had come from beyond the southern border. Aleksander might have believed it, but the sheer similarity between the two events immediately set off warning signs. Someone might have been trying to stage the whole incident, looking for another spark of conflict and expecting a reaction from the new Regent. It seemed too much like a provocation for The Black General to immediately believe the solution handed to him on a silver platter. Perhaps someone was profiting from the suspicion falling on the citizens of Shu. Or perhaps it was indeed them, only they felt impunity enough to believe the Darkling would think twice before declaring war on them when he still hadn't reinforced his army.

"What makes you think they were assassins?" he asked Ivan, his furious gaze shifting from one corpse to the other. "You didn't catch them red-handed, and from what I see, they're not confessing to us."

His Heartrender hurried with his theory, remembering, as always, to remain calm and matter-of-fact.

"They were all found where the fire broke out, right next to the tanks of flammable substance they used," his Colonel explained to his commander. "Moreover, each of them carried the same metal dragon head as the other arsonists." With that, Ivan handed the Darkling a tiny object, no bigger than a button on his coat.

Aleksander examined it carefully, recognizing it from inside the temples in Ahmrat Jen. Perhaps this indeed confirmed the suspicions that the perpetrators shared a common origin south of the border. The Black General, however, decided to err on the side of caution. Too much had happened recently for him to be fooled by what could only be a pretense.

"That's not enough," he concluded, now looking at the blond Healer, who was blushing again. "What is the direct cause of death?" he asked her, wondering if the bodies of the arsonists bore any signs of physical trauma.

"Definitely the smoke poisoning, moi Soverenyi," the blonde replied. "I found excessive soot concentration in their lungs, which could also indicate they were at the very center of the action."

The Shadow Summoner frowned. Perhaps the assassins had come here on a suicide mission? This seemed much more logical, considering they had all been found at the direct source of the fire. Besides, the identical symbol in their possession could also indicate some kind of conspiracy, but Aleksander was too cautious to be convinced by one obvious pattern, especially when it could prove completely wrong.

"Sir," his Heartrender finally spoke, snapping his commander out of his reverie. "With your permission, that's not all."

The Black General's frown deepened even further.

"I'm all ears," he simply said, making eye contact with his Colonel.

"Marina, expose the neck of one of them," The Heartrender ordered the blonde, to which she quickly nodded and crouched down next to the corpse of one of the suspected assassins.

After a moment, she rolled his body onto its side, so that his back was more visible. Despite the extensive damage to the skin, the same pinpoint mark at the base of the skull as Opjer and Zoya's could be seen. The Darkling realized he had casually narrowed his eyes at this discovery. His enemies were becoming increasingly bold, and therefore his response would be far more pungent than he had previously planned.

"Interesting," he said, more to himself, but his Corporalki immediately agreed.

"Sir…" Ivan began, seemingly struggling to find the right words. "They all have such marks on their heads. But there's something else," he replied, reaching into his kefta pocket and pulling out a heavily burned piece of paper. "Look here, moi Soverenyi."

The Shadow Summoner took the bundle offered to him, and as soon as he did, his blood involuntarily boiled.

Zoya Nazyalensky, he read inside of his mind, feeling his hands shake.

"This was found under the jacket of one of them," The Heartrender explained to his commander. "And considering what Nazyalensky did…" His Colonel paused, knowing he didn't need to add anything more.

Aleksander felt that instead of blood, pure, unbridled rage was now flowing through his veins. So The Squaller had committed acts even worse than the Darkling had initially assumed. Whatever her connection to the arson attacks was, it certainly existed. And The Black General suddenly understood one thing – Zoya would answer for this. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but she would. And when she did, the dark-haired Etherealki would experience firsthand what it meant to delude herself into believing he could be led by the nose.

***

The scarf that had been wrapped tightly around his small frame and then slung across his mother’s chest was tight and restricted his movements, but it undoubtedly provided him with the relative security he so desperately needed. The boy had long since outgrown infancy and was running more and more agilely on his short, baby legs, but when they had crept here under the cover of darkness, Baghra had constantly whispered to him that she wouldn't let him hang around between her knees. She could have left him somewhere, of course, but she seemed afraid someone would take him away. There was no maternal tenderness in her, but there was a determination to keep him alive, even though he himself didn't understand her motives. His mother never kissed him or hugged him. She didn't play with him or explain how the world worked. If he hadn't been constantly watching her, he probably wouldn't have even learned to feed himself. By the age of two, he could even dress himself. He still needed her protection, and though he was afraid to express his needs, sometimes he simply had to. Baghra sometimes remained silent, and sometimes called him a wayward child. The boy felt like an unwanted object, yet one that was worth a great deal to someone who craved the magic hidden in his bones. And that was probably why his mother couldn't bear to part with him. Was it possible that someone else cared about him as well? That Baghra had made it a point of honor to maintain her power over him, because otherwise, someone might take him away?

"Be quiet!" his mother shouted at him, nervously searching the tall shelves for something that was clearly there. "Do you want bad people to take you away, Aleksander?" she asked him, peering behind each volume and returning it to its original place with obvious disappointment. "If you don't stop crying soon, I'll leave you here! Do you want this, boy? Tell me, do you want it?"

The room they were in now was dimly lit. Behind them was a fireplace, where the fire was already dying down. His mother kept glancing around, not pausing in her search.

"I know he's got it somewhere!" Baghra grumbled under her breath, moving through the place as if she knew it intimately. "We don't have much time, and I have to find it! Did he think I was so naive as to not see through him? He's not going to make it!" she hissed under her breath, moving to the next shelf and nervously pawing at it again. "Stupid old man! He even had to get involved! But no, he won't take this away from me. Not anymore," she muttered to herself, briefly reading the inscriptions on the spines of the books. "Where the hell could he have hidden it?" she complained, ignoring the fact that she was pressing her child, hidden in the sling on her chest, against the shelf, further restricting his already labored breathing.

Aleksander didn't understand anything, but he knew he was growing increasingly afraid. Baghra had been telling him the whole way here that these people would kill them if they didn't escape in time. That they would take him away from her and then do something to him to steal his powers. That the lord of this castle hated her and everything connected to her. But he had a few things that belonged to her, and she had to steal them herself to prove she hadn't imagined it, that he was still alive. She also said that this person should have died long ago, and that she felt she had taken care of it.

The boy felt tears welling up in his eyes, but attracting Baghra's attention would be useless. She could have truly left him here, and he couldn't imagine life without her. He loved her and sought her attention, but if his behavior was going to tear them apart, he'd rather choke on tears than give his mother a reason to abandon him. So he remained silent, letting her press his childish back against the bookshelf. Especially since his mother was in an increasing hurry, becoming terribly imprecise.

"Where does he keep it?" she complained again, rushing past the fireplace and starting to search the other side of the room. "I know him all too well; he must have left it somewhere in plain sight to revel in my humiliation! Where the hell did he put it?"

Aleksander's fear grew stronger and stronger, making his bladder tighten. But he wouldn't dare utter a single word now, fearing his mother would blame him for her potential failure if she didn't find what she was so desperately searching for. Finally, Baghra approached the last shelf, where several rows of various scrolls had been stacked one on top of the other. She pushed them to the ground with a quick movement of her hand, knowing that, unlike the heavy books, it wouldn't make any noise. The boy struck the back of his head lightly on the wooden board at her sweeping movement, but he gritted his teeth, stifling a cry of pain so that it died on his lips and, instead of escaping, reverberated inside his head.

Suddenly, his mother let out a low cry, reaching out forcefully to grab something from the shelf. Aleksander wasn't sure what it was, but he understood when Baghra lifted it up, leafing through the first few pages. She then placed it in the traveler's pack slung over her right shoulder and continued her search, clearly convinced she was on the right track.

"Just the journal and the ring," she repeated under her breath, knocking more scrolls off the shelf. "They have to be here somewhere!"

Aleksander's little hand also reached out, finding a small wooden box perched at his head height. The boy picked up his find from the shelf, believing that if he occupied himself with something, it would stop him from needing to pee. But as soon as he did, Baghra immediately snatched it away.

"There you are!" she called to the box, letting out a soft cry of relief. "Just the journal."

And suddenly, somewhere in the distance, as if in a distant part of the castle, the sound of footsteps echoed. Aleksander's mother immediately froze, assessing the distance separating her from the rocky cliff, from which edge she could escape down the slope, straight to the beach. She was just about to do so, in fact, when her gaze found the last thing she was looking for.

"A journal!" she exclaimed, quickly slipping the animal-skin-bound volume into the pack on her shoulder. "We have everything, Aleksander. The next time we return here, it will be to kill your grandfather. And I promise you, that it will happen." With that, Baghra began to run quickly toward the arched window overlooking the rocky ledge, as if she had traveled this route hundreds of times before.

The Black General's eyes fluttered open, feeling as if his entire body was turning into a block of ice again. He was still teetering on the edge of sleep and reality, but he couldn't even move. Something was pulling him deep inside, as if he himself were about to fall to pieces. He was paralyzed by cold and fear, and memories still refused to release him, presenting him with images his mind had rejected so long ago that they had faded from his memory, transforming into unrealistic fantasies that had been erased by time and his own mother, who had done everything to make sure her son had forgotten it all. Aleksander was feeling as if he were about to suffocate, but he had no control over himself. Was this the end again? Would the freezing darkness swallow him, and it would all finally be over, though this time less painfully than when his Sun Summoner had pierced him through with her holy blade?

But someone refused to let him go. Warmth poured into his veins, overcoming the cold and gradually restoring the color of his reality. Suddenly, the Darkling felt the strength to open his eyes. The nightmare slowly faded away, and besides the familiar, warming sensation coursing through his bloodstream, he was also filled with a new, previously unfamiliar power that felt strangely alien yet familiar, as if it had always belonged to him. Aleksander had an impression as if he had rediscovered himself after a long time.

And then, when his eyelids finally opened, The Shadow Summoner discovered Alina leaning over him, placing both hands on his cheeks. Terror was written all over her face. The Black General suffered whenever he had to see her like this. And the worst part was, lately, it was almost always because of him.

"Sasha!" his precious girl cried, snuggling into his chest as if she hadn't seen him in at least several days. "You have to stop scaring me like that, or I swear I'll lose my mind," she said, now more quietly, into his bare torso, and The Black General reached his hand toward her head, pressing her cheek against his now warm skin and gently stroking her hair.

"I hate myself for that, milaya," Aleksander replied, knowing he should finally describe what he felt and say it aloud. "I despise myself for all the stress I put you through."

Alina stiffened slightly. After a moment, she lifted herself from his chest, pushing herself into a sitting position.

"Never say that again," she declared, pain filling her dark eyes. "You are all I have, and that's the only reason I said it." His Sun Summoner's words were almost as quiet as a whisper. "It wasn't my intention to hurt you, my love. I just… I don't want to lose you."

The Darkling felt a tightness in his chest. Had he misheard her? Had Alina actually called him “her love”? Aleksander was afraid to believe it. He preferred to protect his heart, even though every gesture from his solnishka confirmed what she had just said. Why was it so hard for him to convince himself that someone might still care about him? Why couldn't he trust that he truly deserved it?

"You will never lose me," he promised her instead, but his voice was strangely tinged with emotion. He reached up to brush his precious girl's hair back from her forehead and look her straight in the eye. "You should know by now that I'm not a man who gives up easily, Alya. I think that's a trait shared by all members of my family."

Alina brightened slightly, then reached for his hand, letting it trail down her arm.

Then she leaned forward to kiss him gently. She held her lips against his a little longer than she should have, and Aleksander realized his Sun Summoner might have been smiling slightly.

"I hope they'll be like you," she whispered in a barely audible voice. "And then the world will be at their feet, and that's exactly what I want for them," she added, still not moving away from him.

The Darkling realized Alina was talking about their unborn twins. The lump in his throat rose again, but he said nothing, waiting for his precious girl to pull away again. Sometimes he still couldn't believe he was going to be a father. And the fact that his solnishka had already seen him as such still felt a bit unreal to him, especially since he'd been raised solely by his mother.

"Ilya is alive," The Black General said instead when Alina finally pulled away, looking at him with understanding, as if he'd just confirmed her suspicions. "I think he wants something from us. From both of us."

His Sun Summoner paled slightly.

"But what, Sasha? What could a man who pretended to be dead all these years want from us?" His solnishka shared his concerns, though he didn't even have to voice them.

Aleksander frowned, straightening up in the bed and propping himself up on his elbows.

"I'm not sure, Alya. But… I could feel the change in your power. I think I could sense our children amplifying your light and helping you calm my always ready to strike merzost," he said in a cautious tone, because the sensation was unmistakable.

Alina paled even more, instinctively reaching a hand toward her now-rounded belly in a protective gesture.

"Do you think..." she began, and he shook his head.

"I have no idea what Ilya could want, but for some reason he's appeared now. I'd like to believe it's something else, but we should be careful, Alya," the Darkling replied, doing his best not to unnecessarily upset his Sun Summoner.

Alina was still holding her palm on her belly, adding another hand there.

"Are you going to find him?" she asked Aleksander, and he shook his head cautiously.

Even if he were considering it, he had other pressing matters to attend to. One of them was already waiting for him.

"Not yet, milaya," he replied to her, finally sitting up and reaching for the nightstand where his shirt was laying. He pulled it on and began buttoning it, considering his next move. "For now, I have to go talk to Zoya again. As I told you, there were more arson attacks, and the attackers had the same marks on their necks as Nazyalensky. One of them also hid a note with her name under his jacket. I want to see how it all connects. Then I'll move on to other matters," Aleksander said, getting out of bed and looking around for his kefta.

Alina immediately did the same. She was already fully dressed in her loose white dress and seemed to have decided to join him. This caused the Darkling to stop in the middle of their bedroom, frowning at her.

"Are you going somewhere, Alya?" he asked her, watching as she walked over to the dressing table and began to braid her loose hair into a neat braid. Once she'd dealt with that, she turned to him.

"I'm going with you," she announced, as if they were discussing something obvious.

Aleksander didn't even try to hide his surprise.

"That's not the best idea, Milaya," he warned her, but his precious girl had already joined him, rising to her toes and pressing a fleeting kiss to his lips.

"You want me to be your queen one day and the mother of your extraordinary children," she stated, stepping away from him and smoothing his now slightly unruly locks of hair with a deft hand. "So let me do this, Sasha. I want to say something to that traitor's face. Especially since you know I'm in no danger there. Not just because you're keeping her locked up. But because you'll be there with me too. I've been planning to meet Zoya ever since you captured her. Just this one time, Aleksander. Please. I need to get this off my chest, and I promise you I won't interfere again," Alina assured him, sliding her hands down his arms to his elbows, where she grabbed him and squeezed him lightly.

The Darkling looked into her eyes, realizing that his precious girl truly cared about it. Although he didn't like the idea, he understood that he shouldn't exclude her from everything. Besides, his Sun Summoner wasn't wrong. Zoya had no way to do anything to her, and even if she tried, she would regret it bitterly.

So, surprised at himself, Aleksander nodded.

“Let’s go then, milaya,” he replied, and, letting her slip her arm through his, he led her towards the exit of their chamber.

***

Alina realized how much she missed moments like this, as she allowed Aleksander to lead her through the dungeons toward Zoya's cell. It wasn't that she enjoyed interrogations or all the unpleasantness that came with them. But she felt like she had finally found her place by the Darkling’s side. His very presence filled her with an incomprehensible strength, one that had nothing to do with The Sun Summoner's powers. Being with The Black General in moments like these, she had an impression as if her mission had finally been fulfilled. That something she had long sought had been found. She wouldn't trade it for anything. She knew she had to take care of her health now, but she promised herself that in the future, she wouldn't shy away from her duties as queen. Aleksander might be overly sensitive to her safety, but that was what he wanted for both of them. Wasn't that why he'd entered into a pact with the Apparat? To place Alina on the throne, and himself to effectively rule over Ravka, as he had already done with the western part of the country?

The Black General finally slowed his pace, stopping before the entrance to one of the cells. He nodded to Ivan, already seated inside, who rose from the stone bench to bow to the newcomers. Across from The Heartrender was sitting someone else. This person was turned sideways to The Corporalki and seemed to be trying to ignore him completely. They also didn't react when the oprichniki opened the door for Aleksander and Alina, who then entered the room, heading for the very center of the small stone-walled cell.

"Sir. My Lady," Ivan greeted them, taking a step back to give the summoners more space. "Miss Nazyalensky has been stubbornly silent, and perhaps she'll become more talkative around you."

The future queen of Ravka glanced at the dark-haired Squaller, who had never truly warmed to her. The Sun Summoner's illusions after their joint destruction of The Shadow Fold had been quickly shattered when they had been first tested. Unlike Genya, who had always been loyal to her, Zoya had been clearly lying to her, likely to distract her from her affair with Nikolai. However, she had been never honest with her. Alina could have guessed this when Marie and Nadia had told her about The Squaller's obsession with The Black General. She had considered her rival, and though she had done her best to pretend their relationship had been repaired, The Sun Summoner had always sensed it was merely a pretense to profit from it. Later, the entire deception had been exposed. Alina had realized just how toxic and dangerous the dark-haired Etherealki could be. She'd lost any remaining respect for her, and the only reason she'd come here was personal, because Zoya deserved to hear that, despite her best efforts, she'd always been nothing.

The future queen of Ravka realized she'd been staring at The Squaller a little too intently, failing to notice Aleksander grab her hand, intertwining their fingers in a gesture of possessive affiliation.

"Miss Nazyalensky, I presume, is not in the mood for conversation?" he asked the detainee, to which Alina began to study Zoya's face more closely, as she continued to stubbornly stare at the wall opposite her. "Unfortunately, new facts have emerged that we must discuss. And we will do it, or if not, I will be forced to employ a little persuasion."

The Etherealki flinched, and The Sun Summoner noticed that The Black General's warning had not gone unheeded. The brunette, however, remained in her position, and Alina began to wonder if Zoya even knew she would be participating in this interrogation.

Aleksander and Ivan exchanged glances. The Darkling didn't want to let go of his precious girl's hand for the time being, so he nodded to The Heartrender, who approached Nazyalensky and, without warning, tugged at her arm, finally turning her to face the summoners. The dark-haired Etherealki woman had fury and contempt written all over her face, but when she spotted Alina, her eyes widened in shock. Then her gaze fell on her and Aleksander's intertwined fingers, finally settling on The Sun Summoner's now-proportioned belly. And it was then that the future queen of Ravka realized how much she had wounded Zoya's pride. If looks could kill, the hated Morozova twins would likely not have lived to see their birth. Alina unconsciously squeezed the Darkling's palm, and he returned the gesture, filling her heart with a new dose of comfort.

Aleksander reached into the pocket of his kefta, fishing out a piece of paper. He released his precious girl's hand to begin unwinding the bundle at a painfully slow pace. When he finally did, he handed the find to Ivan, who grabbed Zoya under the chin and held the charred piece of paper almost to her nose.

"Do you happen to know what this is, Nazyalensky?" The Shadow Summoner asked her, though she didn't even need to read what it said to realize that her earlier silence now lost some of its significance. The Black General had real evidence that The Squaller had some connection with the arsonists, and it only remained to determine what exactly. "We've had a series of unfortunate events at the port, and one of the perpetrators seems to be connected to you in some way. So, would you be so kind as to save us all time by explaining exactly what your involvement in this sabotage is? I know I can't force you to talk if you don't want to, because of condition of your brain, but what if I try to persuade you to do so?" Aleksander began tapping his lower lip with his index finger, and Alina took inexplicable satisfaction in watching him work.

The Squaller was practically boiling with rage, but her lips remained pursed. Perhaps once, The Sun Summoner would have even pitied her. Now, however, she couldn't wait to add something. But she knew the time wasn't right yet. The Black General was conducting the interrogation, and she had to wait for her turn.

"Good luck," Zoya sneered, struggling to get the next words out as Ivan gripped her jaw tightly. She did, however, make eye contact with the Darkling, and madness was etched in her eyes. "I won't tell you anything; you'll have to find out for yourself, General. You think you're infallible, so I wish you good luck figuring things out," she gritted out, and The Heartrender tightened his grip, clearly causing her pain.

Alina watched the entire scene with indifference seething inside her. She felt no regret or sympathy. She had cured herself of such feelings toward the traitors after all she had endured at Mal's hands.

"Don't worry, Nazyalensky," the Darkling informed her, smiling at The Squaller from the corner of his mouth. "In fact, I already know everything I need to bring you to justice. Even knowing that your friends underwent the same procedure as you didn't require me to determine your connection to someone from Shu Han. The question is, who is it exactly, and what reasons did you have for betraying your own homeland? And for someone who would not hesitate to experiment on you?" Aleksander asked, immediately turning serious and narrowing his eyes to two thin slits.

Alina felt a strange certainty that the time had come for her to share with the dark-haired Etherealki woman what she had come here to bring.

"Perhaps it's about revenge against Nikolai?" she asked, breaking the momentary silence. She felt all eyes immediately fall on her, but this didn't discourage her, only confirmed her belief that she might be right. "You don't like that he found someone else, which has pushed you into the background. But is it worth betraying your own beliefs for that? Does your dignity really mean so little to you to associate with such cruel people for a private vendetta?" The Sun Summoner wanted to know, discovering that the Darkling had reached for her hand again, squeezing it lightly.

But Zoya only smiled cruelly, a grimace that resembled a nasty sneer, because Ivan was still holding her jaw tightly.

"What could you possibly know?" she stammered, glaring at the future queen of Ravka with disgust. "I'm not the one who would do anything for..." Here her gaze fell on Alina's rounded belly again. "...power. Did you stoop so low to spread your legs for him and become pregnant? Well, I don't think you have the right to lecture me, then, since you've turned into nothing more than a common concubine." The Squaller somehow gathered saliva in her mouth and spat at the feet of The Sun Summoner, who didn't move an inch, shocked to be insulted in this way in the presence of men.

The girl didn't even know how to respond. She was literally dumbfounded, but the incredibly strong grip on her hand told her the Darkling wouldn't let it go. And indeed, she didn't have to wait long for Aleksander to show his thoughts.

The Black General released her hand, then, leaving Alina in the middle of the cell, he approached the dark-haired Etherealki, and without warning, he bent down to grab her wrist. He yanked her hand with all his might, pressing it at the base so hard that the brunette howled in pain, her fingers uncurling. And then The Shadow Summoner made a small movement of his palm, followed immediately by a shriek so piercing that the future queen of Ravka even flinched slightly, especially since Ivan had meanwhile freed Zoya's chin, causing her scream to resonate even louder in the small room.

The smallest of her right fingers fell to the stone floor, severed by the shadow cut so skillfully that the wound was instantly sealed, preventing unnecessary bloodshed.

"You sick lunatic!" The Squaller yelled, trying to grab the injured limb with her free hand, but she had no chance, as Aleksander continued to lean over her, effectively preventing her from doing so. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but he completely ignored them, savoring the pain he had inflicted on her, a suffering the brunette had earned. "Let me go!" She tugged at her wrist, but the Darkling had no intention of freeing her until she remembered exactly what he had to tell her.

"One more unfortunate word about your queen, and you'll lose another finger," he warned her. "And then another, and another. You don't need them to live, and besides…" The Darkling paused, heightening the tension inside the cell, which made the air so thick you could cut it with a knife. "You won't live much longer anyway. If I were you, I'd cherish every moment, before you face public execution," Aleksander said, leaning close to The Squaller's ear and whispering. "I can't wait until your Lantsov Puppy fails to save you, and his indifference finally brings you down."

Alina felt a slight pressure in her chest, but the feeling quickly passed. She still remembered of being humiliated and degraded, but at the same time, she was grateful that someone like the Darkling would move heaven and earth to come to her aid and defend her dignity.

"Damn you!" Zoya growled as The Black General released her hand, straightening and walking over to Alina to wrap his arm around her waist.

"I know you're working with someone from Shu Han, and I'll know who is it exactly very soon," Aleksander emphasized. "And if I find out your involvement was even greater than I think, then before I execute you in front of the entire Os Alta court, I'll have a little fun first."

The Squaller tilted her head up, a mixture of pain and madness evident in her dark eyes. But there was no fear there, as if the dark-haired Etherealki had resigned herself to her fate or was hoping someone would save her. And that was precisely why Alina shuddered absently, for some reason suspecting it was the latter.

"You have no idea what awaits you," she hissed, smiling cruelly despite the pain she still was dealing with. "But you'll find out soon enough. And then we'll see who exactly will prevail and who will be begging for mercy."

***

Alina was sure she'd been here before. The air in the small room felt heavy and muggy, as if a storm were brewing, only this time not outside, but inside the building. The girl looked desperately around, searching for a potential escape route. When she couldn't find one, she felt panic begin to drive her, confusing her mind, telling her she was trapped beyond hope. At the same time, something whispered in her mind that if she even thought about escaping, she'd regret it bitterly. She should stay here and wait to see what happened. She was here for a reason, and she wouldn't leave until she knew it. And though fear paralyzed her more than Alina would admit to herself, she clenched her eyes and fists, waiting for the person she'd met here before to finally reveal their presence. And this time, the girl would be prepared, recognizing this man's identity.

"Anmei," someone finally said, in a voice so booming and ancient that simply listening to it was like communing with the past in human form. "Just look at yourself. It's not for nothing that I consider you my best creation."

The Sun Summoner took a deep breath, somehow realizing that although she was trapped in a nightmare, she was participating in it fully consciously, as if it were all happening in real life. This made the girl feel a twinge of unease. Could this be something like a tether? Most likely, because all sensory input reached her normally and didn't seem distorted by the hallucinations of her dream. The only thing separating her from this place was the fact that her body was physically in a completely different location. But something was allowing her to travel such a great distance, and Alina felt she knew exactly what was responsible for it. That was why her hand instinctively rested on her lower abdomen, sensing the energy welling up from there.

Merzost. Coming from her children.

"Ilya Morozova," The Sun Summoner finally said aloud, opening her eyes and seeing a frighteningly thin man in dark robes, his hood pulled so low that it obscured most of his face, sitting in a wheelchair. The only things visible were his dark beard and sunken cheeks.

"Well, there you are," the hooded man replied, leaning forward a little, causing Alina to reflexively take a step back, nearly colliding with the fireplace behind her. "I'm impressed you jumped to conclusions so quickly, Anmei," he praised her.

The girl had no intention of falling into his manipulation. All of Morozova's actions hinted at his hidden agenda, and if they failed to decipher it, it could harm the family The Sun Summoner would soon form with the Darkling.

"What do you want from me?" she demanded, refusing to let Ilya take control of their conversation. "And my name is Alina. I don't know any Anmei."

As long as she acted consciously, she didn't have to worry about him tricking her. Perhaps she would emerge from this confrontation wiser and richer in knowledge of what one of the first living Saints wanted from her. For that he desired something was beyond question. All that remained was to determine his motives and whether it could somehow harm Alina, Aleksander, or their unborn children.

Ilya laced his bony fingers in front of him, playing with something he was holding. The Sun Summoner had no desire to look at him, but something drew her toward him. Perhaps it was the blood bond between him and her twins. Perhaps something else the girl would rather not even think about.

"I don't exactly want anything from you, Anmei," Morozova replied in his low, sepulchral voice, completely ignoring her wish to be called Alina. "But if my grandson wants to prevent the war, he should finally meet with me. Soon Aleksander will remember everything. I know that, and then I will be waiting for him. He needs me. He doesn't seem like a fool, so he will surely make the right decision," the hooded man replied, toying with a small object resting between his fingers.

Alina placed both hands on her stomach, taking another step back and realizing she'd accidentally bumped her back into the fireplace. Fortunately, there wasn't a fire burning there like on her first visit, and the stone structure provided her with a stability she hadn't even known she needed.

"Aleksander doesn't need anything from you!" she hissed at the man sitting in the wheelchair. "Where were you all these years, while he fought for Ravka's independence? Do you think anyone would believe you suddenly wanted to stop a war?" The Sun Summoner asked, surprised by the courage in her voice.

Sunken cheeks peeked out from under the voluminous hood, as did thin lips, which now stretched into an ambiguous smile.

"Oh, you have no idea how wrong you are, Anmei," Ilya told her, and the girl finally had the opportunity to see what he himself was holding in his hand, discovering it was some kind of rune. "Will you truly be as convinced of the truth of your words when war breaks out in Ravka and you're not with my grandson on the battlefield? What if his negative emotions overwhelm him so much that Aleksander is forced to surrender, allowing the darkness to consume him? You, too, will grow weaker and weaker, Anmei. For now, you think you have everything under control, but my great-grandchildren will grow at your expense. We, Morozovas, have a curse in our blood. You were supposed to be the medicine that would save Aleksander from destroying himself and everything he chose to touch. But instead, you seem to be deliberately avoiding responsibility. Could my best creation also be my greatest disappointment?" the ancient Grisha asked reproachfully, and even though The Sun Summoner couldn't see his eyes from beneath his hood, she understood that she would surely read condemnation in them.

Alina felt tears welling up behind her eyelids. What right did this man have to say all these things? What did he even know about responsibility and sacrifice when he had been hiding for all these centuries, washing his hands of everything, while the Darkling had fought alone on all fronts?

"Leave us alone," she warned him, having no doubt that Ilya Morozova's intentions were anything but pure. "We owe you nothing."

The frighteningly thin man's fingers stopped moving. He looked like a specter from the worst nightmares, preparing to attack his unprepared victim.

"You live because of me, Anmei," he warned her, his voice now laced with an unspoken threat. "Then you owe me at least a basic gratitude, my child. But you don't understand that you need me just as much as my grandson needs me. When we next meet, our conversation will be quite different, stubborn girl. For now, focus on the secret of the ring. There is a certain Fjerdan Grisha clan that fled south from persecution, and they are directly connected to who The Black General is. If you discover who I'm talking about, then you will find me. And I will consider you ready to save my grandson. And believe me, girl, your time is running out, and the sands in the hourglass of your fate have already begun to run out." With that, Ilya Morozova snapped his bony fingers, and darkness enveloped everything around him.

The future queen of Ravka bolted from her bed, drenched in sweat. A dull pain exploded in her temples, forcing her to clutch her head and burst into tears. Her children also became hyperactive, as if they had some connection to what was happening to her. Alina, trying to catch her breath, realized that her theory had just been confirmed. All these nightmares and her suffering were connected to merzost and the fact that Aleksander's grandfather was using his great-grandchildren to contact her. Was this also due to the fact that, as she suspected, Ilya's involvement in her birth also played a role? It all seemed like a vast hoax, and what most worried Alina was something entirely different. Namely, the fear that if this happened again, would she even survive to give birth? Or perhaps she was never meant to? Perhaps it wasn't the Darkling who should have died in The Fold at all? And if she herself was supposed to survive, because Ilya Morozova had some malicious intentions for her, then why was he now pushing her already burdened body to the brink of exhaustion? How much longer could The Sun Summoner endure all this?

The future queen of Ravka gripped the headrest, placing her free hand on her now bulging lower belly. She began to whisper soothing words to her children, finally feeling the throbbing in her temples begin to subside. A wave of cold spread through her body, but this time it meant relief. Alina took a few deep breaths and realized that if she didn't solve the mystery of the Morozova family soon, she might not live to see the faces of her twins. That's why the solution Ilya had suggested came to her mind. Perhaps by finding the Grisha bloodline of Fjerdan, from which the owner of the ring – which she suspected belonged to Aleksander's father – descended, the girl would save all her loved ones. That was, of course, if what the man had been saying could even be considered true. Alina distrusted his intentions and understood that there had to be more to him. For centuries, he had ignored his grandson, only to suddenly take an interest in The Shadow Summoner? And why had he only done so when The Sun Summoner had become pregnant?

Well, perhaps the palace library and David would bring her some answers.

The future queen of Ravka glanced at the wall clock, discovering that it was very early in the morning. The Darkling had probably been working for a long time, but the residents of The Summer Palace were just waking up. The best place to meet The Durast at this hour seemed to be his own chamber. Alina then made sure she was able to walk unaided and, struggling to pull on a loose dress, headed for the hallway, knowing she wouldn't find peace until she had unraveled the secret of the Morozova family.

When she knocked on the door in the adjacent wing of the building, Genya opened it for her. She seemed surprised to see her, as The Sun Summoner had been sleeping a lot lately due to the fatigue of her pregnancy. Just a glance at Alina's face made The Tailor paled involuntarily. She waved her friend through the doorway, allowing her to approach a nearby table and sit down on one of the chairs.

"Alina," Genya finally said, quickly joining her. "Is something wrong?"

The future queen of Ravka felt as if this short walk had sapped all her strength again. She gripped the edge of the table for support, forcing a smile. The expression on The Corporalki's face, however, made her realize she hadn't fooled her, because her friend immediately approached her and, ignoring The Sun Summoner's protests, grabbed her wrist.

"I am perfectly well, Genya," Alina assured her, feeling The Tailor's warming power begin to flow through her veins. "I came here to talk to David. Is he there possibly?" she asked, but Genya still didn't let go of her hand.

"He should be here any minute, he had to let the new antidote samples settle before he filters them," The Corporalki replied, then finally freed her friend's wrist and, with a very concerned expression on her face, walked around the table to sit across from her. "Alina, did something happen? Please tell me, I haven't seen you that weak since we found out you have been expecting your twins."

The future queen of Ravka felt a twinge of worry but decided to ignore it.

"Nothing. I think I just had a rough night," she said, forcing a smile. But then Genya's words gave her a strange feeling, one she simply had to check. "But can you… see if my children are alright?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant enough to make The Tailor think it was a simple precaution, not something to worry about.

The redhead looked at her with more caution than she should have. Alina was glad Genya didn't possess the same abilities as The Heartrenders; otherwise, she would have quickly seen through her.

"Sure, Sunshine," The Corporalki said after a brief moment of silence, then rose from her chair to crouch next to The Sun Summoner. She placed her hand on her stomach and closed her eyes. A look of complete concentration and calm settled on her face. Finally, she opened her eyes again and seemed calm. "Both your children's hearts are beating strong like a bell, but..." She paused, smiling slightly. "I just learned something else about them."

Alina felt a twinge of anxiety again, but the calm now radiating from The Tailor made her hold back her worries.

"What is it?" she asked as the redhead rose from her crouch to sit back down in the chair across from her.

"Are you sure you want to know? Or would you rather wait until the day you give birth and find out for yourself?" Genya smiled gently, and it seemed she, too, was touched.

The Sun Summoner found her heart beating faster and faster. Had her friend learned whether she was giving birth to boys or girls? Or perhaps fate would bestow upon her a pair, something the future queen of Ravka secretly desired most?

"Yes, please tell me." Emotion choked Alina's throat. "Will it be two boys? Or maybe two girls?" she asked, folding her hands in front of her in a pleading gesture.

The redhead beamed, and all her concern about The Sun Summoner's condition momentarily vanished.

"It's a boy and a girl," she said. "Congratulations, Sunshine. Isn't that exactly what you wanted?"

A lone tear rolled down the cheek of the future queen of Ravka. Emotion was literally choking her, and she was about to respond to her friend when the chamber door opened and David appeared in the doorway. Seeing the expressions on both women's faces, The Durast frowned. He seemed concerned.

"Alina," he greeted The Sun Summoner, cautiously approaching the table. "Did something happen to make you show up so early?"

The girl smiled faintly, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. She didn't want to upset her friend, especially since she'd come here specifically to ask him for something.

"I have a question, David," she said after a moment, waiting for him to take a seat in one of the empty chairs. "Is there some kind of memorial book in the library listing all the ancient Grisha families? But ones that don't just come from Ravka, but also from neighboring countries?"

The Durast frowned at the unexpected question. He knew about the Sun Summoner's search, but he hadn't been prepared for something like this.

"Perhaps some chronicles would mention it, though honestly, I think there's a slim chance of that," he said cautiously, not wanting, as always, to give her false hope. "Before we came to live in The Little Palace, our people were widely persecuted. We weren't taken seriously, even if we were aristocratic. Families either hid such children or took them away. Some of us didn't even reach our teens. The chronicles only list high-born citizens of the kingdom and members of families that had migrated to Ravka from other parts of the world. If the family you seek is among them, you might be able to find them. But otherwise, there's no chance, Alina. The Grisha were a plague; they'd rather erase us from history than mention us there again," David warned her, nervously running a hand through his perpetually disheveled hair.

But The Sun Summoner wasn't discouraged. She smiled gently at The Durast, reassuring him that a potential disappointment wouldn't change anything.

"Will you show me where to find those chronicles?" she asked, ready to head straight for the palace library.

***

The room was in a soothing semi-darkness, and the last candles were just burning out, heralding the imminent arrival of dawn. The air smelled of ozone from the recent storm, filtering into the spacious bedroom through the slightly open windows. For early September, the weather was still like mid-summer, bringing warm days and muggy nights. The residents of West Ravka still slept under thin blankets, trying to ward off the persistent heat.

Aleksander was sitting reclining on his dark-canopied bed, completely lost in his thoughts. His hand was absently running through the long white curls of Alina, who was lying beside him on her side, breathing peacefully, completely lost in sleep. The man was staring blankly at some point in front of him, for the umpteenth time, analyzing recent events.

For the first time in a long time, his thoughts turned not to his homeland and the looming war, but to his own past and family – a memory the Darkling had tried to forget, believing he would soon begin something new, cutting himself off from everything that had nearly broken him. A mother who had never loved him, a father he often thought of but never had known, siblings whose faces haunted his dreams, making him feel guilty for never having been able to form a close bond with them. Against his will, he sometimes missed them. The Black General felt guilty for not having tried to save them. For having done nothing when the Baghra had abandoned his brothers and sisters like unnecessary burdens, allowing himself to be convinced that only they could have outlasted the other Grisha if they stuck together.

Aleksander remembered Ulla, whom he had seen only twice in his life, and whom he believed was still alive, hiding somewhere in a cave on one of the Fjerdan islands. He thought of his grandfather, Ilya, whom he had always considered a powerful, ancient force in his life – the being behind who he had become and who he was now. After all, if it weren't for the writings of The Bonesmith, the Darkling wouldn't have known so much about merzost, not reaching for its destructive power in a moment of desperation. If it weren't for his ancestor, The Shadow Summoner wouldn't have been sent to Lizaveta for training, discovering his unique powers and his destiny for great things. Ilya had transformed in his imagination into someone who, if he had known him, might not have condemned him after all. He would have believed that they both sought to create, not to destroy. That Grisha's freedom had always lay in building, not ruining. His grandfather had poured his dreams into amplifiers, while Aleksander had done the same, investing all his efforts into a vision of a safe haven for himself and all his people. For some reason, the Black General saw a connection between these two dreams, but everything had collapsed like a house of cards when it had been revealed that Ilya Morozova had been alive all this time, abandoning his grandson just like everyone else had.

This realization hurt the Darkling more than he could have imagined, though he knew he shouldn't have been surprised. Losing ideals was never easy, and this blow seared Aleksander's heart, splintering another fragment of his soul. He didn't even want to think about what it would be like to learn this without Alina by his side. How another betrayal would inflame this never-healed wound, adding new fuel to his rage. But fate, for once, had smiled on him. The Shadow Summoner had someone who cared about him, even if it seemed his ancestor had also intervened in their meeting. Aleksander rejected the thought of a hoax. Though he understood that this was the case, he thanked the Saints – in whom he didn't believe, anyway – that his precious girl had appeared in his life, even with someone else's intervention. The universe strived for balance, and Ilya Morozova knew this best, for it was he who had disturbed that harmony. Whatever he now expected from his grandson, the Darkling would not offer it to him, for he wanted nothing to do with his painful past. It was enough that she still woke up abruptly from sleep at night, drenching his body in cold sweat. It was enough that his blood carried the curse of his lineage, which he himself had passed on to his own children. Therefore, he felt no obligation to contact his ancestor. Not when he had allowed his own mother to torment him for all these centuries, knowing better than anyone what the Baghra had been capable of.

The only thing that worried Aleksander was the reason Ilya had suddenly appeared in his life. It had to be inextricably linked to him and Alina, and The Black General decided to be careful and not allow himself to be trapped in a way he might never escape. Now he was starting his own family, and that was all that mattered. No ghosts of the past could suddenly appear in his life and expect something from him. Not when The Shadow Summoner had finally almost freed himself from them. Not when he had someone to protect and build a safe world for them – a reality where being a Grisha would finally cease to be a death sentence.

Aleksander blinked, and his fingers, still lazily combing through Alina's white curls, froze as he decided to take another look at the ring, identical to the one he himself had worn for centuries. Although he wanted to abandon that past, it had returned to him. What if it wasn't just a family heirloom from someone the Darkling didn't even know? Beyond the name engraved on the original signet, was there anything connecting the two pieces of jewelry?

The Black General reached into the drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a bundle he'd only unwrapped once when he had received Ilya's letter. For some reason, his hand shook slightly as he repeated the action, understanding that he'd received this package for a reason. His ancestor must have known that the contents of the pouch meant something to him. This signet held a secret perhaps greater than his father's identity.

Aleksander shook the ring from its final layer of material, letting it fall onto his metal hand with a soft clink. Unlike the jewelry he'd inherited from his father, this one had no internal engraving. Other than that, however, it looked identical, which made The Shadow Summoner wonder if it wasn't perhaps a hallmark of the entire family, with all the men wearing exactly the same signets.

A lump rose in the Darkling's throat against his will as he slipped the ring onto the thumb of his good hand. A strange sense of dread crept under his skin, an icy layer of fear, as a moment later his surroundings began to change, transforming into a bright room with an austere interior, reminiscent of ancient fortified castles Aleksander remembered from his own youth. The man quickly realized he was seeing the world through the eyes of a child. And most likely an infant, since someone was holding him wrapped in several layers of cloth, likely to keep him warm. His small arms stretched out toward a handsome, tall man dressed in red with eyes as black as night. He had dark hair and a thick beard. He was well-built and straight as a rod. He moved with elegance and exuded a strength the boy could sense from several meters away. His complexion was pale, and his clothing suggested high birth. Why would such a person be interested in the little boy and his mother, who was now trying to move the bundle containing the infant aside, as if removing it from the stranger's reach?

“Give me my son, Baghra,” the man said, taking a cautious step forward. “You know he'll be safe with me.”

Aleksander felt someone jerk him hard, almost making him vomit. The person holding him tried to hide him behind their back, which made the boy cry out at the violence of the action.

“Don't you dare come near me, traitor!” the woman who turned out to be his mother hissed at the man. The boy felt a strong connection between them both, recognizing her heartbeat and the voice he had listened to since before his birth.

“You accuse me of things I haven't done,” the dark-haired stranger replied. “Let me take Aleksander to Kerch, because he will never be safe here.” The brunette took another step forward, and Baghra tugged at the infant again, earning even louder whimpers in return.

“He doesn't belong to you!” his mother screamed, backing away a little further toward the castle's exit.

The brunette shook his head slightly, holding out his hands in a placating gesture.

"I don't want to fight you, just give me my son," he warned her, pain evident in his dark eyes.

Baghra snorted under her breath, a hint of ironic laughter.

"You may be the most powerful Heartrender alive, Leif, but I am the first living Shadow Summoner," she mocked the man, clutching the bundle containing her child even tighter in her hands. "Step away from me, or you'll regret it," she warned him again, feeling behind her for the doorknob.

But the man called Leif wasn't afraid of her at all. He took another step forward, ignoring her warnings.

"You told me you didn't want him," the brunette stated, his face etched with determination to reclaim something that had been taken from him. "You've emphasized that many times," he remarked, looking fondly at the crying infant.

"But now I want him!" Baghra hissed, clearly disappointed that she couldn't use both hands, because she had to hold her son.

The man in the red robe looked at her, pain shining in his night-black eyes.

"Because he's the Shadow Summoner?" the man named Leif asked, pushing boy’s mother further and further toward the chamber's exit.

"None of your business!" she snapped at the baby's father again, rocking the bundle so aggressively that the child's whimpers grew louder and louder.

The brunette shook his head, carefully reaching for the little one for the umpteenth time.

"Give me Aleksander, I'll keep him safe," he promised the boy's mother. "You are driven solely by vengeance, Baghra. I will raise our son to be a true knight and a good man."

The toddler felt the emotions of the person closest to him shift instantly. Baghra's heart began to beat faster, and the rage emanating from her infected her son, who sensed the change in her mood. The darkness now followed her every step, menacing and merciless, just like she herself.

"A good man?" the infant's mother sneered, and shadows began to creep from every corner of the chamber, drowning the previously bright room in a darkness as sinister as the woman who dominated it. "And were you one too, when you saved my father? And when you decided to seduce me?"

The man in red shook his head quickly, shame and disappointment evident in his eyes.

"I loved you, Baghra Morozova," Leif told her, and it didn't seem like he was lying. "And I regret helping to save Ilya to this day. Listen to me. I know you hate me, but I was the one who wanted this child. You didn't even accept him until you discovered he had the same powers as you. Give me Aleksander. He didn't deserve to be the instrument of your vengeance. You hate your father, and yet you want to stain your own son's hands with it? How can you be so cruel? How..." The brunette didn't finish, as Baghra sent an impenetrable curtain of shadows his way, using it to escape the chamber with the infant still whimpering desperately in her arms.

The Darkling opened his eyes, realizing he was shaking, but someone was holding him tightly, preventing him from losing himself in the darkness. He didn't feel the unsettling cold in his bones, only a terror so overwhelming that he forgot he was capable of such emotions. Aleksander looked down at his hand, discovering that the ring on his thumb was gone, as someone had pulled it off. Alina clutched the signet ring in her hand instead, simultaneously embracing him around the waist and nestling her head against his chest.

"Alya," he said to her, then took a deep breath, feeling his fear begin to subside. He shifted a little higher on the bed than before, leaning back against the headboard and hugging his precious girl close, though careful not to squeeze her too tightly, as his emotions still held too much sway. "Why aren't you sleeping?" he asked her, gently stroking her hair and trying to reassure her that nothing was wrong with him.

His Sun Summoner lifted her head from his chest.

"I don't know," she replied, concern clearly coloring her voice. "Something woke me from my sleep, and then I saw you with that ring. And… you didn't look your best, Sasha. I'm sorry if I scared you," she added, her eyes brimming with tears.

Aleksander looked at her with uncharacteristic tenderness. He hesitated whether he should burden his solnishka with such a weight, but they had recently made a promise to each other. This matter concerned both of them, and though The Black General couldn't open up to her, he tried to force himself to, because he understood that she deserved it.

"I think I saw my father," he told Alina, brushing a loose strand of hair from her forehead.

The girl stiffened slightly, her eyes widening in obvious shock.

"How?" she simply asked, instinctively reaching for the Darkling's hand for a reassuring squeeze. "I believe I was only a few weeks old then. My… father," Aleksander paused for a moment, the word sounding foreign and unreal to him. "He wanted to take me away from Baghra," he stated carefully, recalling the events of his dream. "But she ran away, taking me with her. I don't know if I ever saw him again."

Alina was pale, and tears glistened in her eyes, clinging to her lower lashes.

"Sasha, I'm so sorry…" she began, but he placed his index finger on her lower lip.

"There's no reason to be sorry, milaya," he stated, reassuring her with his calm gaze, even though his heart was filled with emptiness and bitterness. "I still don't know what happened to him. The only thing I understood was that he cared about me, and…" The Black General hesitated a bit. "It's a strange feeling, I must admit."

The Darkling actually meant what he had said aloud. His mother had never felt a genuine maternal love for him, even though he had longed for it. He had always realized they shared something beyond familial bonds, though until Baghra's death, he hadn’t been able to explain how exactly he would describe their relationship. It had been a strange interdependence, one that would be very difficult to break free from. It had developed over the years, beyond even touching on true familial ties. But the fact that someone might want him, even consider raising him, shook Aleksander's hardened heart a little. It simply didn't happen to him, so he hadn't even considered it.

"Sasha," Alina whispered to him, snapping him out of his momentary reverie. "There are more people who care about you. Like me," she assured him, squeezing his hand again. He looked at her calmly and tenderly, not needing to speak aloud of things they both knew, for words held less power than actions. "Why did you dream of your father just now?" his precious girl asked him after a moment, expressing aloud the doubt that also tormented Aleksander.

"I think it's because of Ilya," he told her, convinced of the connection between the two. "Perhaps by unraveling the mystery of my origins, I will find my ancestor. But I searched for my father for many years, when I was still very young. Without success. I don't know how I could possibly determine who he was, since time has only further blurred his image in the collective memory. And I truly don't know where I would find him." The Black General felt a pang of disappointment he hadn't expected.

Considering the baggage of experience he carried, he once again chose to hide behind his mask of caution and cold calculation to protect himself from illusions that could cause him unnecessary pain, as had happened thousands of times before.

"I saw Ilya too, in my dream," Alina confessed quietly, and his gaze immediately focused on her, a deep frown forming on his forehead. "He wanted the same thing from me that he wants from you – to find your family. He claimed you needed him to stop the war," his precious girl whispered, and the Darkling felt a pang of disappointment that the man he idealized turned out to be exactly like his own daughter, and Aleksander's mother, Baghra.

"Did he do something to you?" he asked Alina, carefully studying her expression for any signs of physical harm.

But his Sun Summoner shook her head.

“No, don’t worry, my love,” she assured him, and The Black General flinched slightly when she called him like that again. “But tell me, what will you do?” she worried, evident in the way the inner light in her eyes faded.

Aleksander sighed, gently placing his precious girl’s hand on the mattress to get out of bed.

“I have to deal with these arson attacks for now. I don’t think I have time for such a search right now, milaya,” he told her, reaching for his kefta and pulling it onto his shoulders. “I have to get back to work. It’s after midnight, and I still have dozens of reports to approve. People are already demanding compensation for the destroyed ships. And since the word is out, promises must be kept,” he replied, seeing his Sun Summoner also rise from the bed, walking around it and approaching the Darkling.

"I'll find him for you, Sasha," she stated, approaching him and placing her hand on his cheek for a moment. "I'll find your father for both of us."

The Black General covered her hand with his own and then leaned down to kiss her gently. Alina closed her eyes, letting their lips move at a painfully delicious pace. The kiss was slow and passionate. Perhaps if they had more time, it would have developed into something more. Unfortunately, this time, duty called Aleksander to work almost immediately. That was why he reluctantly broke their caress, pressing their foreheads together for a moment.

"I have to go," the Darkling told his precious girl, drawing her close one last time and kissing the top of her head. "Try to rest a bit more, please. Both you and the little ones need it." With that, he released Alina from his embrace, heading toward the hallway exit. When he turned around, he saw that she was already getting back into bed. Reassured, he left the room and headed for his office.

When The Black General entered his study, he was met with an unusual sight. Especially at this hour. He said nothing, however, as he brushed past Genya, who was waiting for him in a chair, and walked around the desk to sit across from her.

A moment later, their eyes met, and The Tailor said, "Forgive me, moi Soverenyi, but I won't find peace unless I speak with you."

Aleksander frowned, as the red-haired Corporalki wasn't prone to exaggeration. His alertness immediately heightened, and he began to consider various possibilities as to the reason for her visit, none of which were optimistic.

"What happened, Genya?" he asked her, leaning back in his chair and tracing her figure with his watchful gaze.

The Tailor intertwined her fingers in front of her on her lap. She pondered for a moment before finally speaking.

"It’s Alina... sir. I'm concerned about her well-being. I don't know how to put it," she said cautiously, noticing the darkness beginning to cloud The Black General's eyes. "I think your children are exacerbating this condition. Alina feels worse when the merzost in your unborn twins' bodies activates. It exhausts her, but it doesn't happen all the time, sir. I'm sure it has something to do with the dreams she mentioned."

Aleksander felt the chill creeping into his veins again, but he focused all his willpower on controlling it. It wasn't easy, but there was still time to calm himself. And though his hands gripped the edge of the desk, he decided to channel his fear into rage, knowing that this would most likely quiet the suddenly activated merzost.

"She won't give up, Genya," he told his Corporalki, knowing his precious girl's stubbornness. Alina had a strong character and liked to be independent. She would rather hide what was happening to her than reveal it. Besides, if Ilya had a hand in this, it was unfortunately not entirely up to either of them. Aleksander knew he would have to face it soon, but pressing state matters held him back. If his solnishka somehow found a trace of his father's family, it might bring them closer to the truth about his ancestor's intentions. Unless he decided to forestall them, which was highly likely, considering his actions so far.

Genya paled noticeably, but nodded as if she completely agreed.

"I know, General," she replied, concern evident in her eyes. "But perhaps there's some way to convince her that she should step away from this? That it's harmful to her?" she pleaded, but she didn't have much hope of success.

Aleksander controlled himself even more than before. This wasn't easy for him, as he shared the same fears as his Corporalki and understood that her suspicions were not unfounded.

"Of course I will try to do it. Unfortunately, some things are beyond my control, and some things are beyond her will either, Genya," the Darkling replied to The Tailor, looking her straight in the eye.

"Then allow me to keep an even closer eye on her, sir, otherwise…" The redhead trailed off, realizing she might have just crossed a dangerous line she had no right to cross.

The Black General narrowed his eyes at her, knowing Genya well enough to give her a chance to explain herself. Perhaps it wasn't a lack of respect for him at all, but something Corporalki knew and he himself didn't.

"Otherwise what, Genya?" he asked her, leaning forward a bit and resting his elbows on the table.

The redhead struggled with herself. On the one hand, she desperately wanted to confess the truth, but on the other, she seemed to realize the burden of this information. However, she had come here with a specific purpose. That's why she should be honest, even if her confession could prove disastrous.

"Otherwise, Alina might not survive until the day she gives birth, moi Soverenyi," she finally said, a mixture of very strong and conflicting emotions etched on her face.

Aleksander froze. Shock and disbelief filled him from within, and a part of him rejected what he had just heard.

"What are you talking about, Genya?" he asked, but he was clearly struggling to control himself.

The Tailor swallowed hard, her hands shaking slightly.

"I meant that your children might be born prematurely and..." The redhead trailed off, seemingly unable to finish her sentence.

"I know what that means, Genya," The Black General replied, feeling his fingers grip the edge of the desk so tightly that the wood began to creak. "If you allow me to take care of Alina, I will try to prolong her pregnancy as long as possible, because in this case, every day counts," The Corporalki assured her commander, watching him carefully and remembering that he, too, was struggling with merzost and his condition could change for the worse in a split second.

Aleksander sat stiffly and looked her straight in the eyes. They remained like that for a time, muttering words to themselves that had never been spoken aloud. Finally, The Shadow Summoner nodded.

"It is now your task to prolong Alina's pregnancy as long as possible, Genya. I trust you are aware of the responsibility placed upon you and will do everything in your power not to disappoint me," he warned her.

The Tailor nodded stiffly and was about to respond when the door to the Darkling's office opened and Ivan strode into the room.

"Sir," he said, approaching the desk and ignoring Genya, whom he had seen before Aleksander arrived to his study and stumbled upon her. "Forgive me, but there's something you must see." With that, his Heartrender handed his commander an ornately decorated envelope secured with the royal seal.

The Shadow Summoner's unease was replaced by suspicion and fury. The man took the letter from his Colonel, breaking the wax. He fished out a single sheet of the finest paper from within, quickly scanning the contents.

And then The Black General's eyes turned into two thin lines.

Lantsov Puppy was inviting him and Alina to his wedding to Princess Ehri Kir-Taban in exactly two weeks. As Regent of West Ravka, Aleksander was expected at the ceremony, whether he liked it or not.

Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:

Notes:

Hello guys 🖤
A bit of Aleksander's past should be now clear to you - but what does it mean for him, Alina and their unborn children? What does Ilya possibly want from his grandson?
And you also met Aleksander's father. He was a good man. He will appear one more time later, and it will be a heartbreaking memory...
Next chapter we are going to Os Alta for a while. And then another intrigue will start 🖤
Thank you for everything as always 💗
Wish you a great new week,
Ewa

Chapter 10: The Man Who Closed His Feelings in His Heart

Summary:

Aleksander paused, studying his precious girl to see if he could calm her down. And then he was struck again by her unnatural pallor.
"Are you feeling okay? Should I call Genya?" he asked, studying her face for any signs of deterioration.
Alina smiled reassuringly at him, but then her face grew sad.
"I just want to go home," she replied. "I feel something's going to happen there, Sasha. I don't know what exactly, but I just know it."
The Darkling wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, resting his forehead against hers and closing his eyes.
"I have the same feeling, Alya," he confessed. "But it'll be even worse if we don't keep a closer look at it. I've thought about this a lot, and I prefer to have control over this chaos. At least it will always be a controlled chaos."

Notes:

This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

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Aleksander was watching the candle flame die down, deeply lost in thoughts. The wax dripped lazily into the metal holder as he had remained in the same position for the past few hours, his elbows on the table. His kefta was slung over the back of the chair, and he wore only a black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing his well-defined, steel-hard muscles. Although it was already dark outside, the air was still heavy and stifling from the unseasonably hot weather, which in the second half of September proved as peculiar a phenomenon as the reason the new Regent of West Ravka had set out for the capital, taking with him a small unit of Grisha and his Alina.

The Darkling didn't even need to consider this to know that this journey would change the rules. That it would perhaps completely rearrange the pieces on the chessboard of the political game he himself had played for centuries, while only his opponents had been replaced. Nikolai Lantsov was making a grave mistake, but even worse was the fact that it could no longer be prevented without initiating a new war. Aleksander therefore accelerated his rearmament in the West, recognizing that hoping for miracles in this case would be nothing more than ignorance. The arson attacks at Os Kervo had also severely depleted his treasury. The Black General, however, had a knack for managing the entire region's expenses differently – an art unknown to the Lantsovs, who squandered their funds on lavish living, compensating for it with higher tax collections. Exploiting their subjects was never a solution, and if they did, it ended in rebellion. Ravka was not ready for another civil war, which, with the simultaneous operations on the southern front, could result in the loss of its independence. The Darkling, therefore, prepared for a solitary military campaign. If he had counted on Nikolai to meet the demands of the moment, he would have been almost as foolish as blond King was. Aleksander therefore made changes to the specifics of his exports. He placed a greater emphasis on luxury goods, for which the entire region was renowned. This allowed the hole in his treasury to be relatively filled for now. But it was only a temporary solution. Lantsov Puppy would soon hear a few words about his reign. A little persuasion wouldn't hurt, especially since everything suggested that The Black General's path to total control of Ravka was now turning into the final stretch.

The Darkling ran his fingers through his dark hair, rubbing his eyelids with his thumb and forefinger. Alina slept nearby in the tent, seeming relaxed and peaceful. This might have calmed his tent-like nerves, if not for Genya's words, which couldn't leave his thoughts. Aleksander subconsciously tormented himself, feeling as if the past were returning to him. How could he forget something like that, especially in the face of new truths about his family, which proved not only cruel but also sinister? Whatever Ilya wanted, his grandson didn't have time to address it for now. And something told him he was making a mistake, one he would later have to atone for.

The man reached for the top buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning them at the neck as mechanically as if he'd done it a thousand times. His now exposed, pale skin seemed even paler in the candlelight. A loose strand of hair fell across his forehead again, almost getting into his eyes, which only intensified the impression of his absentmindedness.

The Black General sometimes couldn't believe he was going to be a father. Even though tangible proof of that very thing was now sleeping beside him, breathing calmly, he found himself still doubting it all. The only child he could ever have had had been taken from him. Baghra had predicted it would be so, and he had deceived himself into believing his mother had only been telling him so to shatter his confidence. But then had come the fateful day, when her bad omen turned into truth. From then on, something within him had broken even more, and Aleksander resolved to protect his heart and his conscience. It wasn't that the Darkling had planned anything with Luda, but when it had happened, he resolved to rise to the occasion, something that couldn't be said for Baghra. The Shadow Summoner's childhood had been filled with the faces of nameless siblings, of whom only Ulla had become close enough to him to try to find her. His mother had abandoned each of her offspring like unnecessary burdens. Aleksander had stopped attaching himself to them and asking questions just before had he reached his teens. Later, however, fate would have it that the same thing had happened to him. He had promised himself he would behave better than Baghra. He would prove to her what it meant to take responsibility for one's actions. Unfortunately, this time, his fate had also played a cruel trick on him. And then the Darkling had made a decision he would stick to for the rest of his life – that he would have no more children.

The truth was, if The Black General had wanted it, he would have had dozens, perhaps even hundreds of descendants. His feelings, or rather, the lack thereof, wouldn't have stopped him from having children if that was what he himself desired. Women were always drawn to him, even if he himself terrified them. It wasn't so much his powers, but the aura of inaccessibility that Aleksander exuded. He realized that he was like a forbidden fruit to them, and that only made him more attractive to them all.

But before Alina had come into his life, The Shadow Summoner had known the price of immortality and the pain it brought. He had not been able to guarantee that his children would inherit his powers or that they would not be born mortal. He had refused to accept the thought of condemning them to a fate similar to his own, especially since their mother might not live to see them reach adulthood. Besides, the Darkling had considered himself selfish in this one respect. He had wanted to spare himself the additional suffering of losing someone who, according to the laws of nature, should have lived as long as he did or outlived him. He also would not find a mate capable of bearing his children. Even if she survived to the day of childbirth, there still had been a risk she would die during it.

Baghra was the only exception to this rule, being immortal. She and her son were significantly different even among their own people. The fact that Luda had become pregnant tormented Aleksander even when everything had seemed to be going according to plan. The man, however, hadn’t lived to see if his beloved would die giving birth to his daughter. Unfortunately, that might have happened, and the Darkling would never know. So, after The Healer had died, he had chosen his subsequent solitude – consciously and by his own choice. Of course, he had dreamed that this would change one day, just as he waited for The Making to send him his soulmate, who could remain by his side for all eternity.

When Alina had appeared, he focused so intently on making her realize they were destined for each other that he had stopped protecting his heart and conscience as he had before. And perhaps that was why fate had once again played a trick on him. This time, his fatherhood would be completely different, and Aleksander knew that for the first time, he had been given the chance to have a new family of his own. His precious girl was also immortal, and his twins turned out to be living amplifiers. The Black General understood that he had passed on the curse of longevity to them, and time could not take them away from him. Their mother would always be there to help him raise them. Together they would teach them values important to all Grisha, and to the Darkling himself. Except that Alina shared her body with the merzost growing within her. And not just a single dose, but a double one. Aleksander was aware how taxing this was on her body. And so Genya's words had filled him with anxiety and fear. The thought of losing either of them became so persistent that it intensified the insomnia that already shadowed him. The Black General had absolutely no desire to take his Sun Summoner with him on the journey to Os Alta. He had resisted as much as he had been able but unfortunately, the more he had thought about it, the more he realized it had been inevitable. He made sure the entire trip was as comfortable for Alina as possible. Genya was in the tent next door, always ready to intervene. Logic told the Darkling that perhaps it was for the best that he now had his precious girl with him than if she were hundreds of miles away. But some part of him still blamed himself. No matter how he looked at it, he had contributed to her condition. He was as responsible for it as his solnishka, if not more so than she.

And then Aleksander's fingers froze on one of the buttons as he squeezed his eyes shut. Whether it was to silence his remorse or simply to chase away dark thoughts, he couldn't tell. Memories returned to him in scattered images, only to sharpen a moment later, transporting him to the familiar sanctuary where he himself was sitting, gazing at the fire crackling in the hearth over four centuries ago.

"There you are," someone said suddenly, approaching him very slowly, as if walking was clearly difficult for them. "I thought I'd find you here."

The Darkling shuddered slightly, shifting sideways across the stone bench. His mother rested her cane on it and only then sat down beside him, trying to maintain some distance despite everything.

It had always been that way between them, and it would remain that way. For someone who had walked through immortality together for over a hundred years, Baghra had never sought closeness with her son. His presence in her life had become a certainty for her, based on habit, never an emotional connection. Unfortunately, Aleksander still harbored the illusion that this would change. Now, however, he had a chance to break free from his mother's influence. And precisely because he would soon start his own family.

"What happened to make you leave your chamber?" he asked her, glancing over at her. Her steely eyes held a hint of pity, which the Darkling automatically took for a bad omen.

"I can't even speak to my own son?" Baghra asked him, but her gaze didn't soften. If anything, it grew even colder. "I didn't know I needed permission," she stated, and Aleksander felt the familiar tightness in his chest that had plagued him so many times in her presence.

He could have sworn he tried to fight it, but he was powerless. His mother still held him in check, though he did everything he could to show her he was free of her. And he must have been faking it quite well, since it had unnerved her so many times.

"I'm simply surprised you didn't summon me, like you like to do." The Darkling held Baghra's intense gaze with the skill of someone who had faced it many times. "Do you need anything? You know I'm leaving for Os Alta for a few weeks tomorrow," he reminded her, just in case she forgot, which she sometimes did, especially when matters didn't directly concern her.

His mother straightened slightly on the stone bench. Then she laced her fingers on her thighs, looking weak and fragile now, as if the slightest gust of wind could break her. But it was only a pretense, because the decision not to use her powers was hers alone. Aleksander had tried to talk to her about it dozens of times. But he had never received an explanation that seemed reasonable. Baghra had brushed it off, but her son knew her better than anyone. He understood that she was like a predator constantly waiting for its prey. It was never safe to assume she wouldn't change her mind. That she wouldn't suddenly decide to use her shadows again.

"That's why I came to you," the Darkling's mother informed him, piercing his soul with her steely gaze. "I know you'll be gone for over two weeks, and the sooner we discuss this, the better," she emphasized, filling Aleksander's heart with a foreboding that he, however, masked perfectly.

"I'm all ears," he told her, straightening himself on the stone bench and turning to Baghra with a reserved, cautious expression. "Do you need anything? If so, you know you can always ask Luda for help. Just because you don't want to let her near you doesn't mean she won't help you. Believe me, she will, if you give her a chance," he reminded her, unfortunately not getting his hopes up.

His mother looked like she was about to snort under her breath like an aggressive cat, but quickly suppressed it. Instead, she decided to get to the real reason for her visit, as discussing her son's chosen one had taken considerable effort and self-control due to her own dislike of The Healer.

"I don't give mortals a chance, Aleksander," Baghra told him, her eyes even colder than before. "You should know by now that it's not worth bothering with them, because sooner or later they'll leave, and all you'll be left with is disappointment and impatience."

The Darkling felt the rage begin to surge inside him again, a treacherous force he couldn't control. On the other hand, he felt like he was seven years old again, and his mother was trying to make him feel guilty. He no longer accepted such treatment. He'd stopped doing that long ago, and only respect and the bond they shared kept him from making a decision he himself might later regret.

"Is this why you came here?" he asked her, his fingers clenching on the seat of the stone bench. "To tell me the same thing you've told me hundreds of times before?"

Suddenly, Baghra reached out to Aleksander, grabbing his wrist without warning. She gripped it with all her might, just as she had when he was a child. Something told him not to pull his hand away. To withstand this display of power he'd long since outgrown.

"You can still do something about it, foolish boy," his mother informed him, looking him in the eye. "The Alkemi will make you a suitable potion; you just have to ask them."

The Darkling literally froze in place, unable to believe what he'd just heard. It was impossible that Baghra was offering him such a thing. He must have misunderstood her. This was supposed to be her own grandchild.

"Did you…" he began, but she didn't let him finish.

"Don't be a fool, Aleksander," his mother interrupted, narrowing her eyes at him. "Do you know how low the probability is that your daughter is just like you or me? Do you know how slim the chance is?" she reminded him, her voice devoid of sympathy, rich only in realism and self-righteousness. "Did you sense any merzost from Luda? No. So you have no need to delude yourself, naive boy. If you were lucky, you conceived a Grisha. But your Healer is clearly too weak to become the mother of someone like you, or me. That happens once in many, many attempts, Aleksander. You can ignore me, and you can disagree with me because of your naive ideals. But you know I have experience in these matters. Forget the complications of raising an otkazats'ya. Even if it is Grisha, if you were lucky, she will live to be one hundred twenty, maybe one hundred fifty. Are you really ready to watch your daughter age? To gradually wither away, while you remain as you are now?"

Each subsequent word from Baghra was like a knife piercing his heart. Aleksander knew her like no one else in this world, and he realized that his mother wore cruelty like a second skin. She thought this method would always work on him. That he would always cave to her accusations because, as a child, he always had. But she underestimated him – as always. And if she thought he would do this because it solved all her problems, she was going to be disappointed.

"Take back those words, madraya," he threatened her, a sense of betrayal and disappointment beginning to cloud his thoughts. "How can you offer me such a thing? How could it even have crossed your mind?"

But Baghra was still pinning his wrist to the stone bench. It didn't look like she was ever going to let go. Madness flashed in her steely eyes, as if her lust for control had completely deranged her at that moment. She was the one setting the conditions, and her son was responsible for fulfilling her demands. To her, he was still clearly two years old, and she could control him like an obedient doll, believing she had power over everything, even his bodily needs.

"You'll see your Healer die. Your daughter will die too. Mark my words, foolish boy. Because when that happens, don't look to me for comfort. Don't say I didn't warn you. Do what must be done, Aleksander, before it's too late for Alkemi to help you to deal with it," his mother urged him, but the Darkling finally released his hand from her grip.

Then he rose from the bench, dropping his arms to his sides and clenching his fists.

"You have no right to demand such things of me, mother," he ground out, having great difficulty remembering the respect Baghra expected of him. "And nothing had better happen to Luda before I return from Os Alta. Otherwise, I'll know who was involved!" Aleksander raised his voice at her, because even for her, the proposition seemed almost unrealistic.

Not even in his wildest dreams had the man expected his mother to order him to kill his own child. It didn't matter whether the child had been born or not, because it was about her attitude toward the very fact that her son could start his own family. Baghra's offer had hurt him more than the Darkling would admit. It went beyond anything she herself had ever gone to. Yes, his mother had blood on her hands, but it always belonged to a stranger – someone who threatened them. Now, she was proposing that Aleksander kill his own daughter, because she could be mortal, just like Luda. It was a whole new level of cruelty, one her son hadn't yet grown accustomed to. He remembered that he and Baghra had been through a lot, and perhaps that was the only reason he had decided to simply leave. Any other person would have bitterly regretted such words, but this was someone who had given him life. Someone who had been his only companion for so many years. Losing them would have made the Darkling feel like he'd lost a part of his identity. Could he free himself from that? Did he have the strength to do so?

Aleksander then looked at his mother one last time, saying, "I pity you, madraya. It must be exhausting to wish death even on your loved ones. I'm sorry I can't live up to your expectations. May you understand that someday. And when you're ready, then we'll talk." With that, he turned his back on Baghra, leaving the chamber and taking the remnants of his heart and his shattered soul with him.

The Black General opened his eyes when he felt someone gently kiss his forehead. The person then stroked his face, brushing a strand of hair to the side. Alina was looking at him with concern, still a little sleepy. This made him wonder if he had woken her, something he very much didn't want to.

"Alina," he said as she leaned in to kiss him gently on the lips and then pulled away. "Why aren't you sleeping, milaya? You promised me you'd get plenty of rest," he said, searching for a reason for her waking in the middle of the night. But the only thing that aroused his concern was her horrifying paleness.

His precious girl didn't wait for his permission and a moment later was sitting on his lap, placing her hands on his shoulders. Aleksander's heart sank slightly at the sight of her dark circles under her eyes, but since she seemed just as worried as he was, he gritted his teeth and refrained from commenting so as not to further upset her.

"I just couldn't sleep, and then I saw you sitting there, with your head on your chest and..." his Sun Summoner trailed off, looking at him with concern again. "You work too hard, Sasha. I know you won't agree with me and will deny it, but even you have the right to be tired," she told him, looking him straight in the eye and once again brushing a loose strand of hair from his forehead. "And you're also worried about something. And I think I know what it is." The Black General must have looked a bit taken aback, because Alina quickly added, "I told you that taking Opjer and The Apparat with you would only make you analyze your every move. You could have left them in Os Kervo, and now you've become more vigilant and suspicious than usual."

The Shadow Summoner had to admit that his precious girl's comment amused him a bit. Someone like the people she mentioned couldn't possibly have any impact on his well-being. Besides, both the high priest of Ravka and the biological father of Lantsov Puppy were here for a reason. The former was a kind of statement of authority, while the latter was an additional bargaining chip for the Darkling. Alina had distrusted The Apparat ever since she learned the truth about Ilya. But her prejudice against Opjer had no real basis, perhaps other than the fact that his solnishka had recently despised Nikolai in a way she didn't even bother to conceal. In her opinion, Zoya was working with him, and while Aleksander didn't share her opinion, he didn't entirely rule it out. The young Tsar had become too close to Shu Han to consider him merely an incompetent idiot or a pawn. The Black General would have lost everything he had earned long ago if he hadn't considered all the possibilities. According to him, someone else was behind this, and everything would become clear soon.

"Alya, I've already explained to you that I had reasons for bringing them with us," he explained, reaching for her hand resting on his cheek and covering it with his. "Especially in light of the letter Ilya sent us."

His Sun Summoner's lips quirked charmingly into a horseshoe shape, but she understood that the Darkling's decisions always had their reasons.

"I understand Opjer, since he is Nikolai's father, after all, but The Apparat? You really couldn't have left him with the other members of The Starless Saint Cult?" she asked, letting her own antipathy towards the monk color her judgment.

Aleksander looked into her eyes, a serious expression appearing in his own. Alina still had a lot to learn, and she would soon understand that personal feelings didn't count in the world of politics. And if they did, they interfered with rational decision-making.

"Whether I like it or not," The Black General explained to her. "It's people like The Apparat who have created the image of a Saint around you. Religion has immense power, Alya, and only a fool would underestimate it. I'd rather keep the monk by my side and watch his actions than see what he'd be capable of if he unleashed an army of fanatics. As long as my intentions align with his aspirations, we have nothing to worry about. And I'm more than certain that he and I are on the same side for now. The Apparat considers the Lantsovs a disgrace to all of Ravka. Placing you on the throne is of strategic importance both to him and to us, milaya. His presence is not only a manifestation of the alliance I have formed with him, but also a sign to Nikolai that he has lost on such a crucial front as the faith of his subjects." Aleksander paused, studying his precious girl to see if he could calm her down. And then he was struck again by her unnatural pallor. "Are you feeling okay? Should I call Genya?" he asked, studying her face for any signs of deterioration.

Alina smiled reassuringly at him, but then her face grew sad.

"I just want to go home," she replied. "I feel something's going to happen there, Sasha. I don't know what exactly, but I just know it."

The Darkling wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, resting his forehead against hers and closing his eyes.

"I have the same feeling, Alya," he confessed. "But it'll be even worse if we don't keep a closer look at it. I've thought about this a lot, and I prefer to have control over this chaos. At least it will always be a controlled chaos."

His Sun Summoner placed a hand on his cheek and seemed about to say something more when terrifying screams echoed outside. The Black General instinctively jumped up, having placed his precious girl on the desk. He quickly pulled on his kefta, acting automatically, as he had done hundreds of times in case of an ambush. The cries had only grown louder in the meantime, and the Darkling no longer had any illusions that an attack had taken place.

Then his self-preservation instincts took over. He wanted to make sure Alina was safe and instruct her not to leave the tent until he had seen what was happening there. Unfortunately, he hadn't expected the reaction he had just witnessed. His Sun Summoner had conjured her own kefta from nowhere and was already running towards him, grabbing his hand.

Aleksander looked at her, eyes wide with fear and disbelief. Surely she didn't think he would agree to her going outside with him? Especially since it was unclear what exactly had happened there?

"Alina, what are you doing?" The Black General took a defensive stance, letting his self-preservation instincts speak through him, becoming his own voice. "You'll stay here! It won't be long! I'll be back soon!" he assured her, and was about to run out of the tent, but she was faster.

His precious girl grabbed his hand again, ignoring the glare he sent her, which she easily withstood.

"You'll have to stop me, Aleksander Morozova!" she threatened him, seemingly unwilling to yield to his persuasion. "You want to leave me here, even though you assured me we were one and only together we could change anything. Have you forgotten that you have merzost within you? Do you possibly think I'll just wait patiently, making sure nothing happens to you? That I'll agree to you risking your life while I sit here, blaming myself for every passing minute, that perhaps I should be there to help you fight if necessary?" Tears glistened in Alina's eyes, and she looked like a primal element of nature, newly freed from its bonds, where nothing could stand in its way.

Aleksander adored her temperament, and it was one of the things that most attracted him to her. But now her stubbornness was a bit off-putting. He was impressed that she could stand up to him. That she had transformed herself into the true queen she had been born to be.

But it was still about her safety. About the fate of his future family, which also depended on the health and well-being of his precious girl.

"You are not alone, Alina!" The Black General told her, giving her one last look that told her this conversation was over. "You carry my children within you," he reminded her, but her eyes lit up even more intensely at the comment.

"These are my children too, Sasha," His Sun Summoner emphasized, pushing past him in the tent's entrance. "And they're no good in a world without a father." With that, Alina stopped to look at him. "Shall we go?"

Aleksander wanted to howl in despair. But he realized he couldn't stop her. She'd get out of here one way or another. Meanwhile, the screams outside were becoming increasingly terrifying. The lives of his soldiers were at risk. As their commander, the Darkling should take care of them. Just as he had for centuries, when he hadn't even counted on his soulmate appearing in his life.

The Shadow Summoner grabbed his precious girl's hand, and together they ran out into the night. The Black General immediately glanced around. The camp was in chaos, everyone running around, trying to escape the five winged monsters that were flying low to the ground, making a familiar humming sound like hummingbird wings. The creatures tried to grab any Grisha they could find by scent. Aleksander had encountered them several months ago, and he remembered that the Heartrenders' powers had no effect on these living dead with their metal skeletons. Their eyes glowed red as they pursued the nearest potential target. If anyone could stand against them, it would be someone from Etherealki. The Black General, however, didn't want to risk their lives, as his unit wasn't that large. And if the Corporalki were eliminated, the odds against the khergud soldiers seemed very even. The Darkling realized he had to act quickly and take matters into his own hands. If these monsters had ventured so deep into Central Ravka, they must have been sent here for a specific purpose. Perhaps they had been tracking the delegation from Os Kervo from the very beginning. Perhaps someone had sent them here to kill the new Regent and future Queen.

"Take cover!" Aleksander shouted to his men, rushing into the center of the camp, with Alina's hand still clutched in his own. "Watch your heads!"

Both his Grisha and the oprichniki rushed to carry out their commander's order. The Shadow Summoner had chosen his first target, allowing his shadows to flow toward him from the darkness of the surrounding night, drawn not only by his summons but also by righteous rage. Aleksander planned to annihilate the khergud one by one with the shadow cut, regardless of the visibility limited by the blackness surrounding him.

And then the man felt an incredible surge of new power. He realized that his strength increase several times over, and one glance was enough for him to understand who was responsible for it. Alina, for it was she, was amplifying him. Or rather, not her, but his own unborn children, whose presence The Black General could easily sense. In his Sun Summoner's free hand, a ball of light was glowing, illuminating the omnipresent darkness better than the bonfires destroyed by the people running around. Her other hand was still gripping his wrist, urging him to use this unexpected support to defeat his winged opponent.

Aleksander nodded, fueled by the power of the Morozova blood. He formed the first shadow cut, which sliced through the hovering beast, cutting through it like a knife through butter. The remaining creatures, drawn by Grisha's unnatural power, lost interest in their previous targets and all flew towards The Black General, who was quick to form more shadow projectiles. More monsters fell with a dull thud. The Darkling reveled in his own limitlessness, eliminating one khergud after another until none of them could pose a threat, reduced to a limp mass of metal and death.

Aleksander lowered his arms to his sides, instinctively looking around. His men were laying on the ground, their heads covered in their hands, as he had ordered. A deafening silence fell, no longer broken by the rustle of hummingbird wings. Beyond the devastated camp, it didn't seem that any of his Grisha had been killed or kidnapped. His men were terrified and surprised, but most importantly, they had clearly escaped the clutches of death.

Suddenly, something seemed different to the Darkling. Before he could grasp what it was, the answer came to him, along with the loss of the extra power he'd gained when he had been eliminating the metal beasts.

Alina looked at him one last time, releasing his wrist. Without warning, she sank to her knees beside him, then lost consciousness. The Black General immediately rushed towards her before her head collided with the hard ground. And then Aleksander Morozova howled like a wounded animal. Guttural, desperate, primal, as if the world had just ended and he was the one who had brought it inevitable doom.

"I need a Healer!" he screamed, holding the motionless Sun Summoner in his arms and sending his demand into the darkness of the night, so that it would reach the proper recipient of the order issued by the leader of The Second Army. "The Healer, now!"

***

She was standing in the middle of the bright kitchen, looking down at her bare feet. The wooden floor had been meticulously scrubbed and gleamed, so clean she could almost see herself reflected in it. A feeling of guilt made her shift from one foot to the other from time to time, knowing perfectly well what to expect. Her father wasn't pleased with her, and the fact that he'd ordered her mother to leave the room couldn't mean anything good. However, she preferred it without Anna's presence. She would only further fuel her husband's displeasure by urging him to punish their daughter more severely than he himself had likely intended. Alina didn't know what had happened recently to make her father so strict with her. She didn't remember her behaving any differently than before, but perhaps she was mistaken. Perhaps Dimitriy did have reason to speak with her privately. However, he understood that the girl was afraid of her mother, and he had decided to spare her the additional dose of criticism and frustration. If the situation had been reversed, Anna would have expected her husband to witness their daughter being scolded. Presumably to bolster her argument and prove to Alina that she couldn't count on the support of either of her parents. That was why the six-year-old was glad her mother wasn't there. She preferred to hear the most unpleasant things from her father than participate in the argument that might have erupted if his wife had been involved.

"Don't be afraid, Linka," Dimitriy told her, sitting at the large wooden table. He placed his hands flat on the tabletop in front of him, looking down at his daughter from the seat opposite her. "Come, sit with me," he encouraged her.

The girl hesitated. But she stopped staring at her feet and cautiously moved forward, feeling her heart practically pounding in her chest. After a moment, she climbed apprehensively onto the empty chair, practically sinking into it. She leaned back against the armrest, barely peeking her head above the table, struggling under the weight of her father's gaze.

"Did I do something wrong, Papa?" she asked him, gripping the tabletop with her hands, perhaps for courage, perhaps to reassure herself. "If so, I'm sorry, Papa. I didn't mean to," she whispered, seeing Dimitriy's gaze soften slightly.

However, he quickly composed himself, clearly forcing himself to do so. Alina had always considered her father a gentle man and knew he didn't like punishing her. But as time passed, he became increasingly strict with her. He pleaded with her mother less on her behalf, as he had done when she had been younger.

"Linka, we need to talk about your light," the man began, and his daughter immediately flinched. She knew this conversation wouldn't end well again, and she had let everyone down one more time. "Is it true what your mother told me, that she saw you playing with the sun's rays in your room and making little balls out of them, even though you promised us you'd never do that again? Until I let you?" Dimitryi asked her, not letting Alina look away from him.

The girl felt herself trembling. Her father never punished her physically like Anna did, but sometimes she herself seemed to prefer it. Perhaps it would help them both forget about the matter more quickly. Maybe everything would return to normal, but right now, the guilt the six-year-old was struggling with was far greater than anything children her age should experience.

"Forgive me, Papa," she replied to her father, withdrawing her hands from the table and folding them on her knees beneath it. "It won't happen again," she persuaded him, speaking more to herself than to him.

Dimitriy was silent for a moment, letting the weight of her promise hang between them. Alina was trembling, not because she expected punishment from him, but because his disappointment was making her feel even more guilty. Each passing second hurt more than the spankings Anna sometimes gave her. The girl had a strong sense of duty, so when she broke her word, she was completely at a loss.

"Linka, look at me," her father finally said to her, causing the six-year-old to hesitate at first. But the calmness emanating from his voice was like a promise that nothing bad had happened. That she could still atone for her sin. "We don't forbid you from using your powers, because we have such a whim. I know you feel much better when you play with your light." Eyes of father and daughter finally met. "But if anyone in the village saw you, they might even want to kill you themselves, or try to kidnap you, or sell you into slavery. Is that what you want, Linka? Don't you understand that we're not telling you this to punish you or make you unhappy, but because we care about your health and safety?" Dimitriy asked her, a single tear rolling down the girl's cheek. "I know you don't feel your best when you're not summoning your sun, but you need to be patient a little longer. In a few years, your fate will change, I promise you that. And for now, you're still too young to go to the Palace, where you belong."

Alina felt a twinge of anxiety, because her father had never mentioned any palaces before. What was he talking about, and why would she go there?

"Palace?" she asked, terrified. "What palace, Papa?"

But the man didn't answer her. Pain showed in his eyes, as if he himself regretted something he had done.

"We'll talk about this when you're a little older. This isn't just my decision, Linka. For now, follow my orders, and you won't bring doom to our entire family. You promised me that, remember?" her father assured her, his gaze turning into determination. "I want you to promise me that again."

The six-year-old began to squirm in her seat. She desperately wanted to do what her father had asked her for, but she feared that if she broke her word again, his disappointment would only deepen.

"Papa, I..." she began, but she couldn't bring herself to say the full declaration aloud.

The man watched her for a moment, then shook his head. Then he turned to her in the seat, his back to her now, staring out the window that overlooked the kitchen and the vast courtyard. Alina looked down at her small, slender fingers, which began to pluck at the ruffles of her childish skirt. She did this for a while, afraid to even speak. Suddenly, something around her changed, and the air now smelled intensely of wind and sea salt. Her hands also looked different now, lengthening and transforming into the palms of a grown woman.

The Sun Summoner shuddered, shifting her gaze to her figure. She saw her already rounded belly and the dark dress she now wore under the kefta that Materialki had custom-made for her. Even the chair she was currently sitting on turned out not to be the one that stood in the house Anna and Dimitriy had lived in. The furniture was ancient, carved, and almost as antique as the person now across from her, who, like her father before, had his back to her, gazing up at the high, arched window that overlooked the sea cliff.

This person wore a hood pulled over his head and was of frail build. Yet, a power so primal emanated from him that Alina didn't even delude herself that this man remembered things forbidden to modern humanity. That he toyed with forces that possessed the power to build, but also topple, entire empires. That he no longer belonged to the mortal world, yet something held him there. He longed to leave, but something still prevented him. And Alina understood perfectly well what that meant. Merzost held more than just Aleksander in its clutches. All members of his family were somehow connected to dark magic. Ilya was its primary source and driving force. He had cursed his entire family, and now he clearly decided he hadn't had enough of the devastation he was wreaking. That he should torment his grandson and his loved ones for a reason known only to himself, most likely cruel.

"Anmei," Morozova greeted her without even turning to her. "Do you know why you're here?" he asked her in that distinctive voice, marked by age and decay.

Alina was afraid of this man. She didn't want to speak to him, or even be in his presence.

"Unfortunately not, but I suspect you'll tell me soon," she replied, straightening in her chair and gripping its backrest with her hands. The fatigue she felt was weighing on her more and more. Ilya seemed to be sucking all the vital energy out of her – or rather, not from her, but from her unadulterated children, who had become much more active in his presence, as if sensing the one who had started it all. The one who had made them different from the rest. Unique.

"The more you use your power, Anmei, the weaker you will become. This isn't a threat, but a fact, child. The more you rebel against this, the more painfully you will feel it. You carry within you very special twins, and if you wish to live to see them, you will understand that you should listen to me. You should bring my grandson here, otherwise he will never forgive himself for being too late," Ilya remarked, but he wasn't speaking specifically to her, but rather to a void, as if for the first time he was offering her a choice.

"What do you want from Aleksander?" Alina finally asked him, understanding that she herself was merely a mediator here.

The old man didn't even move. He continued to stare ahead at the view beyond the arched window, where a storm was now raging, stirring the thin bushes growing above the sea cliff.

"It's interesting, Anmei, how you young people simplify everything," he replied after a moment. "My grandson started it all, but he won't finish it. When the time comes, you'll both understand. Aleksander will know what I mean, in his own time. Only one Morozova will understand another Morozova, my child. Make him realize that his time is running out. And if my descendant wants to save his new family, he'll know what a dangerous game he's playing. And you, Anmei, be careful, because carrying two living amplifiers inside you can be truly exhausting. One is an indescribable effort, but two? I wanted you to be one of a kind. Strong and unique. But even you won't be able to resist such power. You feel it already, don't you? You already know it." With that, Ilya began to turn back toward Alina.

She jumped back in her chair, feeling herself lose her balance. Before the back of her head hit the floor, the girl opened her eyes, gasping for air. She was greeted by the sight of the interior of a carriage moving forward at a steady pace. Its wheels were clattering over the city cobblestones, and the coach was rocking to the steady pace of the two horses pulling it. Everything around her instilled a sense of security in The Sun Summoner. Horse-drawn carriages had once reminded Alina of lost freedom. Now she thought of them as an integral part of the social position Aleksander Morozova held in Ravka. A status that belonged to both of them.

The Darkling's arms had been wrapped around her body, but when she finally awoke from her slumber, he immediately released his grip on her rounded waist, removing his hands from her sizable belly. The girl could see how stiff his upper limbs were, because as soon as she pulled away from him, The Black General immediately shifted his shoulders, even wincing slightly. His attention, however, focused almost immediately on Alina herself. He reached his hands towards her cheeks, carefully examining her face, his eyes radiating relief, but also still gnawing with doubt.

"Alya," he greeted her, while she rubbed the sleep from her eyelids with her fingertips. "Finally. Genya said you only needed sleep and that everything would be alright. How are you feeling, milaya?" Aleksander asked, searching her face for any worrying signs.

The Sun Summoner smiled faintly, sitting closer to him on the carriage seat, stretching her stiff limbs.

"I feel quite well," she said truthfully, for the first time in a long time, not having to pretend. "Did I sleep long?" she asked, uneasily realizing that the Darkling, on the other hand, looked as if he hadn't rested in weeks. "Aleksander, I..." She trailed off, seeing that he must have been genuinely worried about her.

"You've slept for over thirty hours," he finally answered, the uncertainty and worry giving way to pain in his eyes.

The future queen of Ravka was beginning to suspect what might have caused this. But she wanted to hear it aloud, to be sure that the guilt she was now feeling would be punishment enough for the stress she had brought upon The Black General.

"How is it possible that..." she began, feeling truly guilty now.

The sadness in Aleksander's black irises didn't make it any easier.

"You fainted from the extreme exhaustion of your powers," he informed her, trying to control himself.

"Sasha, I..." The Sun Summoner began again, but it didn't seem like anything she did now could erase or repair it.

"I asked you to stay in tent, Alya," he simply replied. "But you never listen to me. Especially when you set your mind to something. Then you're unstoppable."

Alina bit her lower lip, knowing this conversation had to happen anyway. And it was good for the Darkling to realize she would do it again if she had to.

"Sasha," she began, taking his hands. "You know I won't sit still while you face everything only on your own." She met his gaze, though guilt still gripped her chest, knowing she should have found some compromise rather than risk the consequences of the decisions she'd made without thinking of anyone else.

Aleksander looked terribly tired. Eternity shone in his black eyes even more than usual, telling his precious girl how much she was risking by ignoring his knowledge of human nature, his martial arts skills, and his general life experience.

"Maybe you were right, Alya," he replied after a moment, but didn't remove the hand his Sun Summoner still was holding. "Maybe you should have stayed in Os Alta."

Alina realized that what she had done had hurt her beloved more than she wanted to believe.

"Aleksander…" she began, but he only shook his head, deciding that now was the time for her to hear from him.

"I've lost a lot in my life," he confessed, looking deep into her eyes, the intensity of his gaze taking her breath away. "And I regret nothing. You know very well that if I had to, I would do it again," he remarked, lightly squeezing his precious girl's hand. "But I can't lose them. I can't lose… you. That's why I'll never let that happen. I'm not… ready for this," he added, though each word was clearly difficult for him to say aloud.

Alina felt a lump in her throat. This was the closest Aleksander could possibly come to a confession of his feelings for her. She hadn't expected anything more, anyway. She knew he loved her, and besides, she'd heard too many empty declarations in the past to be unable to appreciate something real, even if the words that usually came with them hadn't been spoken aloud yet. And perhaps never would be.

Therefore, The Sun Summoner was surprised when she said aloud instead of The Black General, "You're not ready for this because you love me, Sasha."

The girl quickly realized what she had done. It was very childish of her, and worse, it could bring her a truth that might differ from the vision she herself had nurtured in her heart and mind. What if she was wrong? Did she really want someone to dump a bucket of cold water over her head?

Well. The word had been spoken, and now she had to face the consequences. Whatever they might be.

And so Alina released her hand from his and placed it on the Darkling's cheek.

"Forgive me, my love," she told him, lightly stroking his pale skin, adorned with stubble. "That was inappropriate of me," she apologized, hoping she hadn't gone too far.

But to her surprise, Aleksander gently grabbed her chin, tilting her face up a bit so he could look her straight in the eyes.

"You are right," he stated, and this time there was no hesitation in his voice. "Because indeed, I do." Alina felt as if she were collapsing from emotions she hadn't even realized how much she needed. When she had finally understood how much she had lost, and what a grave mistake she had made by rejecting the Darkling, she had come to terms with how closed off he was to the world and how difficult it was for him to share his feelings. She didn't condemn it, nor did she ask for change in something that, in his case, had hundreds of years of painful history of protecting himself and his heart. Instead, The Sun Summoner understood it, and she read a truth between Aleksander's words. He didn't need to tell her he loved her, since she experienced it every day. But despite everything, what had just happened had shaken her deeply. Emotion brought tears to the future queen of Ravka's eyes, leaving two thin rivulets. "And that's why try not to do anything irresponsible, even if you try only a little," The Black General added, looking into her eyes. "Can you do that for me, milaya?" he asked, wiping one of her tears with the tip of his finger. “Especially now that we are approaching the viper breeding ground, you will have to be especially careful not to let them provoke you.”

Alina leaned forward a little, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. When she pulled away, Aleksander's eyes were still half-closed. But she ignored him.

And that was why she told him, in accordance with her conscience, "I'll try, Sasha, because I don't want to lie to you. Is that okay with you? That I'll try not to disappoint you, but I can't guarantee it?"

The Black General sighed, shaking his head at this. When he opened his eyes, he made eye contact with Alina, saying, "Unfortunately, I guess I'll have to go with that, milaya."

***

Alina was sitting on the wide four-poster bed, unslept on for many long months, absentmindedly smoothing the satin sheets with her hand. The Little Palace was deserted, and only few Grishas still walked within its walls, trying to avoid the former headquarters of The Black General. Most of the soldiers of the Second Army were now stationed in West Ravka, as its control had been once again transferred to Aleksander. Only a few still remained in Os Alta, serving the Crown or carrying out tasks for the King himself. For some reason, however, the Darkling's former home was a kind of sanctuary, even among the likes of him and Alina. Not a single item had been moved, and everything was exactly as the Shadow Summoner had left it.

If she listened carefully, she would still feel his presence. She could have sworn she still recognized Aleksander's scent, lingering between the disheveled sheets. Nothing in this world smelled quite like him, nor did it have the same effect on Alina's senses. The future queen of Ravka closed her eyes, imagining how many sleepless nights the Darkling had spent here. She saw the papers scattered across the bed, and Aleksander himself sitting there, half-naked, propped against the headboard, trying to organize them. She saw the concentration etched on his handsome face, mingled with the almost constant worry as he tried to anticipate their enemies' next moves. She saw his doubts, but also his dreams. She imagined him thinking of her, writing scenarios in his head in which they would finally restore peace and order to their homeland.

Alina absently ran her hand over the satin sheets. She remembered how close she and The Black General had come to finding themselves here that night during the Winter Fete, if Baghra Morozova hadn't decided to thwart their plans. She began to wonder how their fates would have turned out then, and whether she herself would have made entirely different decisions. Would she still want to escape? Would that one night between them keep her stuck in The Little Palace?

Today, The Sun Summoner could firmly say she wouldn't have believed Aleksander's mother. If only she had learned the truth from his lips – before she had been manipulated – she likely would never have left. Wouldn't the war have claimed so many lives then? Would Zlatan have been stopped without the destruction of Novokribirsk? Would the Fjerdans have thought twice before attacking the west coast?

So many questions still remained unanswered. The Black General had explained to her that remorse changed nothing. That guilt didn't undo mistakes already made. It was actions that determined whether one redeemed oneself or continued to fall back into poor decisions. And The Sun Summoner knew Aleksander was right. If only she had learned to listen to him sooner. If only she had understood how his words applied to someone torn between a sense of duty and an identity still being discovered. The Darkling knew the secrets of immortality, but one in which he served as a protector. The future queen of Ravka understood that sometimes the line between holiness and sin proved so thin that maneuvering between the two spheres was an art The Black General had perfected. He himself lived in a reality filled with grey, and it was precisely this shade that best suited the future ruler of a country still in bondage but yet to awaken to independence.

The girl sighed, wondering what Aleksander wanted from Nikolai. He'd gone to speak with him almost immediately after leaving her at his old quarters, where they'd been staying together during their stay in Os Alta. Whatever it was, it must have been urgent. Alina knew she'd learn everything as soon as the Darkling returned to her, but something must have been occupying his thoughts, because he seemed determined to speak with the young Tsar even before his wedding ceremony.

Alina was about to lie down on Aleksander's old bed and let his old presence envelop her like a cocoon when a knock sounded at the door. The Sun Summoner straightened instinctively, frowning. The Black General would simply have walked in, and The Little Palace was deserted, after all. Who could it be, and what did they want that evening? Could this be Genya, who was stationed a few rooms away, or perhaps someone from The Grand Palace, most likely palace servants?

The future queen of Ravka tugged at her kefta and then called, "Come in!"

A door in the distance opened at her words. Someone marched through the war room, heading towards the bedroom. Alina had managed to rise from her bed and stood in the center of the room, waiting for her guests. The faces of two guards from The Grand Palace appeared in the doorway.

One of them bowed before her, saying, "Sankta Alina, Princess of Shu Han, Ehri Kir-Taban, would like to speak with you. She is waiting for you next door in the war room."

The Sun Summoner frowned at this information, clearly surprised. Nikolai's fiancée was completely unfamiliar with her. Yet she had decided to meet with her? What had prompted her to take such a step?

“Thank you, I'll meet with her,” she replied to the guard, to which he nodded. “I'll be in the war room as soon as I freshen up.”

Alina walked over to the mirror, smoothing her hair. She tugged down her loose kefta, smoothing her dark dress so it fit her better, and, taking a deep breath, walked through the internal doors toward where the princess of Shu Han awaited her.

The Sun Summoner recognized her the moment their eyes met. She remembered Ehri from the reception where Nikolai had introduced her as his fiancée. She was a beautiful woman with high cheekbones, long dark hair, and almond-shaped eyes. She had a straight figure and possessed a graceful air befitting her aristocratic roots.

As soon as Alina stood across the round table from her, the future wife of the Ravkan ruler looked at her escort, saying, "Leave us alone."

The guards looked unconvinced, but it wasn't their place to ask questions. Ehri, however, noticed their hesitation and added, "Wait for me on the other side of the door. Don't worry, I'll explain this to the Tsar."

The guards bowed to her, leaving the war room. When the two women were finally alone, the Shu Han princess glanced at The Sun Summoner, her gaze sliding curiously along her figure.

"Sankta Alina, savior of Ravka," she said finally, cocking her head to the side. "It's an honor to finally meet you."

Alina sensed that this visit had a completely different purpose than socializing.

"I could say the same," she concluded, taking care to act as proudly as her interlocutor. "Because I don't think we've been formally introduced," she added.

Ehri looked at her for a moment without comment. Then, however, she lost this silent display of strength, finally revealing her intentions.

"It's nice to finally speak with my future husband's former fiancée," she remarked, placing her hands flat on the table opposite The Sun Summoner.

So Alina's suspicions were true after all. This wasn't about exchanging pleasantries. It was a test of position and a quiet demonstration of her own power.

"That was a long time ago and not true anymore," the future queen of Ravka commented. "I'm sure Nikolai will be much happier with you... Your Majesty," she replied.

The Shu Han princess was silent for a moment, regarding The Sun Summoner with a curious gaze.

"Why did you break up, Sankta Alina? You know, maybe you have some advice for me? Maybe there's something I should avoid?" Ehri commented, and her interlocutor wanted to laugh inside at how awkward the entire exchange between them was.

"Well, unfortunately, we weren't a good match. And we want completely different things for Ravka," Alina finally replied.

"The same things as The Black General wants, Sankta Alina?" Nikolai's future wife asked, tilting her head curiously to the side.

The Sun Summoner tilted her chin slightly, then said, "Exactly."

Ehri Kir-Taban was silent again. But then she began to circle the table, closing the distance between her and her interlocutor.

"You know, Sankta Alina," she began, once she was relatively close, seeing that Alina hadn't moved an inch. "I hope that after my marriage to Nikolai, we'll be able to bury the hatchet between East and West Ravka."

To this, The Sun Summoner finally had a concrete answer for her. And she knew Aleksander would tell her exactly the same.

"It's not just up to us, Your Highness," she stated, looking Nikolai's fiancée straight in the eye. "But I'm sure that where the good of Ravka is concerned, there's always room for compromise."

At this, Ehri Kir-Taban smiled faintly. She took a few steps forward again, finally standing right next to Alina. She was taller than her, but otherwise, she wouldn't stand a chance against her if The Sun Summoner wanted to use her powers. One of them was merely a high-born otkazats'ya, while the other possessed power second only to that of The Black General.

"No, Sankta Alina," the Shu Han Princess told her, looking deeply into her interlocutor's eyes. "This is about the good of Shu Han."

***

Aleksander was ushered into the young Tsar's private quarters, where he was to wait for him. He settled into a small room where every available wall space was filled with hunting trophies and various bladed weapons. A tray of crystal glasses and a carafe of kvass were placed before him. The amber liquid was sparkling faintly in the light of the oil lamps as The Black General sat down in one of the empty chairs, resting his elbows on the counter and gazing at the saber hanging above the fireplace – where a fire was burning brightly – which he recognized perfectly. This brought back a not-so-distant memory of when he himself had participated in Grisha training behind The Little Palace, something he rarely had done then, and when he had had the opportunity to encounter Nikolai, who had sneaked in to observe The Second Army's exercises.

Aleksander was standind with his back against the building's wall, trying to assess whether he should make any improvements to his soldiers' training. Fjerda constantly surprised them with new weapons, which meant that the response to their innovations had to be swift, as the lives of his Grisha were at stake. The Darkling always believed in comprehensive preparation for combat, especially since using the powers wasn't always possible if the battlefield situation spiraled out of control. Sometimes, confrontations with the enemy had to proceed in a manner typical of any other army in the world, so The Black General never forgot this. His men had to be skilled in hand-to-hand combat, repel attacks, and possess rapid reaction techniques. They were required to be proficient in the use of all melee weapons and firearms, be in excellent physical condition, and know how to recognize incoming threats. Sometimes his soldiers worked undercover, pretending to be someone they weren't. In these cases, proper training guaranteed their survival, and the Darkling never shied away from comprehensive preparation for any situation on the battlefield – and beyond – that members of The Second Army might encounter.

Aleksander folded his arms across his chest, watching as two of his Squallers engaged in a brief saber duel. The exchange of blows was swift and efficient, and both men demonstrated great footwork, dodging and charging at the right moments. Fencing required excellent reflexes, and that was what The Black General valued above all the other benefits it offered.

The clang of clashing steel was echoing in the air, but the Darkling's trained ear also picked up another sound nearby. Someone was clearly sneaking in, currently hiding behind a nearby pillar and observing the action on the training ground. Aleksander caught a faint movement out of the corner of his eye, seeing a blond figure trying to get as close as possible to him, likely thinking the sounds of the saber duel would drown out his footsteps. The Black General, however, saw him around many times, when the kid pretended not to be interested in him, but was actually fascinated by everything the leader of The Second Army did.

Nikolai Lantsov, the fifteen-year-old younger son of the royal family, was more interested in Aleksander than his parents would have liked. The Shadow Summoner effectively ignored him, wanting nothing to do with the self-important young man, but his excessive interest in him was slowly beginning to tire him out. The Darkling guessed that what terrified the others fascinated this kid. No matter how he looked at it, the legend of the Black General reached far beyond the borders of Ravka. Nikolai had always seemed curious about the world, and for that reason, he was about to be sent away to train as a fleet commander.

For now, however, the blond was becoming increasingly brazen. Aleksander finally decided to confront him, to see if the boy would be as brave when he finally showed him that he was fully aware of his presence.

"Prince Nikolai," Aleksander called over his shoulder, seeing that the kid had finally stopped sneaking up on him. "I see you're interested in the fencing game? Then join me, Your Highness. I assure you, from where I stand, you'll have a much better view."

The blond remained motionless, still hidden behind the pillar. The Darkling knew that unfortunately he was a member of the royal family, so openly insulting him was out of the question. Nikolai still irritated him less than Pyotr and Tatiana's older son, Vasily, but that didn't mean he relished him. Nothing that had grown up with the Lantsovs stood a chance of earning his respect. It was a well-known fact at the court in Os Alta that the current Tsar's younger son hadn't been conceived by him at all. The Tsarina had had an affair with a Fjerdan emissary, and perhaps only her husband was so utterly ignorant that he couldn't bear the thought of being the subject of marital infidelity.

"Your Majesty, I see you. I've noticed you're interested in fencing. I invite you to join me, truly. I have a much better view from here than you, dear Prince, have it from behind the pillar," Aleksander said after a moment, this time finally receiving some kind of decision from the boy, who clearly understood that the fun was over for good and it was time to reveal himself.

That was why the fair-haired fifteen-year-old emerged from behind the column, pretending he wasn't hiding at all. He tried to walk straight, as if he'd just arrived, holding his own saber in his hands. He wore his royal blue uniform, along with riding breeches and long boots that reached almost to his knees. His blond hair was carefully styled, which must have been his mother's doing.

Nikolai cocked his head slightly even as he finally reached The Black General, who turned to face him, giving him a long look.

"General," the royal son said in greeting, slinging his saber at his belt and clasping both hands behind his back. "What makes you think I'm interested in training of your men?" A mischievous smile played on the blond's thin lips, as if he wanted to fool his interlocutor or show his contempt.

Aleksander fought back the wave of disgust that washed over him at the sight of this disdain. Nikolai was already better behaved than his older brother, but he had no respect for others, just like the rest of his family.

"So what do you need a saber for, Your Highness?" the Darkling asked, bowing his head dramatically. "Seeing you here, armed with a weapon, suggests you wanted to learn something, doesn't it, my prince?" The Shadow Summoner straightened, making eye contact with the blond youth, who was trying hard to deny his insinuations.

"Actually, General," he finally said, standing in front of Aleksander so he could look him in the eye. "I've come to face the best swordsman in all of Ravka," he stated, tilting his head slightly so he could speak on equal terms with the taller Darkling. "I challenge you, General. Or perhaps you don't have the courage to fight me?" he dared him, making The Shadow Summoner want to burst out laughing.

He would gladly teach this kid respect for experience and the military rank of someone who had worked hard to earn his position. Unfortunately, even if he himself desired it, he could not harm the Tsar's son. And the Saints knew he wished for nothing less.

"Forgive me, Your Highness," Aleksander replied, bowing his head to the impudent Prince in a somewhat theatrical gesture. "But your royal mother would punish you for dueling with the Grisha. You know that."

Nikolai bit his lower lip, clearly displeased. He began to dig into the ground with the toe of his boot, considering the leader of The Second Army's words for a long moment, before finally – with a deep sense of resignation – admitting the truth.

"You'll see, General Kirigan, that we will face each other again," the blond kid stated, gripping the hilt of his saber, which was hanging from his belt. "And when it finally comes to that, I will be the one who emerges victorious," the fifteen-year-old promised Aleksander, then turned his back on him, marching back the way he had come.

The Black General was shaken from his moment of reverie when the door leading from the King of Ravka's private bedroom to the guest room – where the Darkling was waiting for him – opened, and in walked none other than the young Tsar, dressed in his most formal uniform. The Shadow Summoner didn't even rise from his seat, waiting for Lantsov Puppy to sit across from him. The blond man placed a bottle of wine he'd brought from the other room in front of him, along with a tall crystal glass. Ignoring his guest, he poured himself a generous portion and leaned back in his chair, surveying The Black General with his gaze.

"Forgive me, General," he told him, raising the wine to his lips. "But if memory serves me right, you're not drinking at this hour. At least, as far as I remember. Too bad, too bad, because there's a reason for celebration," Lantsov Puppy informed him, taking a long sip from his glass. "Soon we'll put an end to the constant conflicts with Shu. And as you can see, General, this can be resolved without bloodshed."

Aleksander cocked his head to the side, feeling the same pity and fury he always did. That irresponsible fool thought he knew how the kingdom was run. Yet everything he did suggested that all he wanted was for it to be wiped from the face of the earth forever.

"Tell me, Tsar," the Darkling said after a moment, seeing that Nikolai had downed all the alcohol in one gulp. "What exactly do you hope to achieve with this marriage? Because it certainly isn't the things you speak of." With that, he placed his hands flat on the tabletop, narrowing his eyes slightly. "What will you gain by this? I'm deeply intrigued, I admit. How far can human stupidity and irresponsibility go?" he asked, letting the contempt in his words hit his interlocutor, making him realize what he himself was thinking on the matter.

Lantsov Puppy set his empty glass on the table, giving the impression that he possessed some secret knowledge of his mysterious victory that belonged only to him.

"What do I gain from this marriage?" the blond repeated after The Black General, smiling like a cat that has just caught a mouse. "Isn't it obvious, General? It's true that you probably like the idea of making us dependent on each other, but I have a different opinion." Nikolai uncorked the wine again, pouring himself another glass of the dark red liquid. "I have no desire to fall victim to your slow-burning plan to seize control of all of Ravka. Ehri will bring me as a dowry not only jewels that will fill my treasury, but also thousands of soldiers. I'm surprised you don't understand how investments are made. You? Such a ruthless and ambitious man?" the young Tsar sneered, wetting his mouth in his glass.

Aleksander Morozova's lips turned into a lazy smile. He pushed himself off the table with his hands, rising from his chair in one fluid motion. Then he approached Nikolai, giving him a wide berth, and heading towards the map of Ravka stretched out to his left on a low table. The light coming from the fireplace illuminated the new balance of power on the board, presenting a vast, deserted area in its central part. Once, The Shadow Fold had been here. Now, the place lay empty.

"And what would you say, dear Tsar, if The Fold reappeared along our northern and southern borders?" the Darkling asked him, seemingly addressing the question to himself and tapping his finger dramatically against his lips. "Of course, I would add a few trade passages in selected locations, so we wouldn't have to worry about slowing our development. However, as you said, a ruthless and ambitious man like me must think of his subjects. And in this case, their safety is crucial," The Shadow Summoner added, leaning his hands back on the table with the map and watching as a look of genuine terror began to appear on the blond's face.

"You wouldn't dare!" Lantsov Puppy exclaimed, rising from his chair and completely forgetting his half-drunk wine.

Aleksander's lips curled into a lazy smile.

"Want to find out, Tsar?" he asked, not moving from his current position.

"But my marriage…" Nikolai began, but the sudden change in The Black General's expression silenced him.

"And so we have again reached the crux of our meeting," Aleksander told him, narrowing his eyes at him. "Why do you want this marriage? But really? Because you can feed those fairy tales you tried to tell me to your advisors, not me. What do you gain from letting an enemy into your bed, Tsar?" The Shadow Summoner asked him, seeing that the young ruler had paled even further.

"I'm not the one who can boast of a prosperous region, General," he explained, but his arrogance seemed to have vanished.

The kid had lost all interest in both wine and pretending to be someone he never had been. One had to be born to rule a country. Fine words, good pretense, and broad smiles couldn't pull the wool over the eyes of those who truly understood politics. Just like a dozen years earlier, Nikolai thought he was an equal opponent to someone who had maneuvered among his kind for hundreds of years.

"And that's why you'll sell your honor for a few thousand armed men? Really?" Aleksander asked him, feeling his hands involuntarily tighten on the edge of the table.

Lantsov Puppy was as afraid as he was struggling with his ambition. That had always been his fundamental problem – that he couldn't measure his strength against his intentions.

"Do you think I haven't figured you out, General?" he asked his guest after a moment, furiously pouring himself another glass of wine from the bottle. "You're sharpening your teeth against my throne. Therefore, I must protect myself." A madness flashed in his watery eyes, finally causing the mask he wore to fall.

The Shadow Summoner smiled again, but it was a predatory smile.

"Your throne, to which you have no right," he reminded his interlocutor, forcing them to look each other directly in the eye.

Nikolai blinked a barely perceptible eye. He could have perfectly pretended otherwise, but fear literally radiated from him, and Aleksander inhaled the faint stench, feeling it fill him with revulsion.

“What?” the young Tsar asked, nervously pouring wine down his throat.

“As you are perfectly aware, everyone knows you’re a bastard,” The Black General remarked, picking up one of the tin soldiers from the model and weighing its weight in his hand. “But what will Princess Ehri say if you don’t give her an heir? What will the entire court of Os Alta think of that?” he asked, as if he weren’t addressing the question to his interlocutor, but throwing it into the void.

Nikolai remained silent, but all the color had drained from his face, giving him the appearance of a blank parchment.

“I’ve brought someone with me who can confirm this, dear Tsar,” Aleksander added, placing the soldier on the map board. “That person is in a safe place. However, I’m surprised you didn’t invite your own father to the wedding. Where are your royal manners?” The Darkling glanced at Lantsov Puppy again, seeing that his eyes were wide with fear.

"How dare you," he growled through his teeth, but it sounded more like the whine of a hungry dog.

"I'll ask you one last time," The Black General warned him, narrowing his eyes at him. "What are you planning, Tsar?"

"Nothing!" Nikolai lost control of his emotions, and all his acting talent suddenly abandoned him.

Aleksander pushed himself away from the map model and approached the blond man, still seated in his chair, with a predatory gait. He stood over him, looking down at him with contempt and superiority.

"And Nazyalensky didn't follow your orders either, did she?" he asked, leaning down so close that their eyes were now aligned.

Lantsov Puppy swallowed hard.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, you madman!" he assured him, but the stench of his fear became so intense that The Shadow Summoner felt a new wave of nausea.

"You're very lucky, you fool," the Darkling began, deliberately biting each word through his teeth so the blond would remember it. "War is looming over us, so I can't simply stop you just yet. Therefore, you'll be given some time from me, and it's best that you don't make even more of a mess. Unfortunately, it's a limited time, moi Tsar. After that, I won't look back on you and I won't surrender Ravka to our enemies. Your pathetic wedding won't help you at all. The clock is ticking, dear King. Therefore, I advise you to enjoy it while you still can." With that, Aleksander straightened, but his eyes were cold and soulless. "See you at the wedding." And with that, he turned his back on Nikolai, heading towards the exit of Lantsov Puppy's private quarters.

The Black General crossed the distance between The Grand Palace and the place he had long considered a haven for all Grisha, entering The Little Palace and listening to the sound of his own footsteps echoing through the empty corridors. It was late, and night had taken over Ravka, but Aleksander Morozova felt that many sleepless hours lay ahead before he might even close his eyes. He retraced the route he knew by heart, entering his former headquarters, greeted by bowing guards. He closed the tall, double doors behind him and turned on the oil lamp.

Now he finally had the opportunity to look around the war room. Since arriving in Os Alta, his thoughts had been so consumed by his conversation with Lantsov Puppy that he decided to attend to it immediately, putting everything else aside for later. Aleksander approached the map, which still showed Ravka as it had before The Shadow Fold had vanished from its surface. Markers and small flags were scattered across the board, representing the balance of power The Black General had faced for centuries, before Alina had appeared and everything changed irrevocably, rewriting the rules of the political game.

The man began to trace the model with his fingers, completely absorbed in his thoughts. He knew that Os Kervo would never be his true home and that it was destined for greater things. Os Alta would soon be the place from which he and Alina would rule the entire country, making the capital of West Ravka the second most important strategic point in their homeland. However, they were destined to occupy the throne where the Lantsovs had sat for centuries. Soon, everything would change forever. And hopefully, this could be achieved without unnecessary bloodshed; otherwise, rebuilding the destruction brought by Nikolai would be lengthy and would require not only significant financial resources but also many human lives.

Aleksander was so lost in thoughts that he almost didn't notice someone approaching him. The person was moving almost silently, her long nightgown sliding along the ground as she approached him, lightly grabbing his hand. The Black General shook himself out of his reverie, gazing into the black eyes of his Alina, who covered his hand with her own on the Ravka model, smiling gently at him.

"Alina," he told her, feeling a strange sense of peace. He was finally home, but now he also had the only person who should be there by his side.

"You seemed terribly lost in thoughts, Sasha," his Sun Summoner greeted him, seemingly sensing his melancholy. "Is it because of Nikolai?" she asked, and he shook his head absently.

"Lantsov Puppy is just dust in the wind," he replied, then reached his free hand toward her cheek to stroke it. "It's just that there are so many memories tied to this place. I didn't realize I missed it so much."

His precious girl looked at him, emotion radiating from her black irises. She understood that Aleksander had spent many years here, and it was somehow part of his fight for their people – his fight for Ravka's independence.

"Have you always occupied this quarters?" she asked him after a moment, maintaining their eye contact and peering into his soul. "Every time you returned as a new incarnation?" She wanted to know, even though she surely suspected the truth.

But the Darkling felt only peace and the feeling that he wasn't fighting for all this alone. That finally someone understood his desires and ambitions. That his loneliness and suffering hadn't been entirely in vain.

"Always," he replied to Alina, who reached for one of the tokens bearing the solar eclipse – symbol of The Black General – with her free hand, examining it with affection and a melancholy similar to The Shadow Summoner's.

"I bet these are thousands of memories..." she said, half to him, half to herself.

Aleksander gazed at his precious girl for a long moment. He admired her beauty, naturalness, and innocence, revealed in times like these. Beneath her stubbornness and temperament lay the delicate flower of her soul – an interior full of kindness, empathy, and sensitivity. A place that perfectly balanced his pain, darkness, and emptiness, creating a sanctuary where they could both function. Together.

"Indeed," the Darkling began, immediately drawing his solnishka's attention. "There are only a few memories I wish to remember from here," he stated, seeing a silent question flicker in her dark eyes. "And each of them is connected to you," he added, to which Alina's eyes gleamed with a mixture of emotions, lust, tenderness, and love blended in perfect proportions.

The shadows on the wall behind them began to dance together again, just as they had before. Their unreal, spectral beings intertwined once more, representing the brotherhood of two souls that could not be torn apart. Those that had been linked together even before they had met. Before their owners' bodies had also become one, finding each other after hundreds of years, never to be lost again.

Aleksander ran his hands down his Sun Summoner's body, gently grabbing her below the buttocks and sitting her on the tabletop, right next to the map of former Ravka. Then he leaned over her, allowing her fingers to grip the collar of his black kefta and pull him toward her so that their faces were now only millimeters apart.

"But we left one memory unfinished…" Alina whispered against his lips, feeling their hot breaths begin to merge into one, just like their shadows, already intertwined on the wall.

"You took the words right out of my mouth…" the Darkling told her, and then, unable to delay it any longer, he kissed her passionately.

Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:

Notes:

Hello loves 🖤🌷
This chapter took a lot of effort, but I am very happy from it. I hope it will give you a lot to think of. Next chapter starts from intimacy scene (which was stolen from us all in the series) 🖤 It will also present a royal wedding and... complications coming with it.
I realized... I am addicted to writing this story. I also want to thank Ola again for being there for me - when I struggle with a lack of time - and for offering me the best fanarts 🌷
Happy new week everyone and sorry if Ola will help me with comments this one time (I will have a very busy day tomorrow).
I love you and thank you as always!🖤🌷
Ewa

Chapter 11: The Girl and The Man Who Predicted it All

Summary:

Morozov tilted his head to the side, and the abyss of his black irises began to swallow his grandson.
"I want you to repay your debt," he informed him, as if discussing something entirely mundane.
"Debt?" The Black General clenched his fists, feeling the tingle of power beneath his skin, a sign that his shadows were trying to remind him of their existence, prompting him to use them.
"Don't try any tricks, boy. I know you, Aleksander. You're a protector, that's what you were born for. The one thing your mother did right was choose your name," Ilya warned him, seeming so confident that the Darkling hesitated, realizing his grandfather hadn't lasted this long, being a fool. "You're quite a disappointment," Morozov continued, leaning forward a bit in his chair. "I had high hopes for you, but you displeased me. You lived, because I always saw something more in you, even though your mother's betrayal suggested I should destroy everything connected to her. But I waited patiently for something to change. And perhaps now my patience would finally pay off."

Notes:

❗❗THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT ADULT SCENE❗❗
This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤
Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

❗❗THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT ADULT SCENE IN THE VERY BEGINNING - FEEL FREE TO SKIP IT❗❗

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aleksander still remembered everything very vividly. The taste of her red lips, reminding him of the delicate flesh of seasonal fruit, perhaps sweet cherries. The way her breathing had quickened with each passing second, her caresses growing bolder. The way she had tangled her fingers in his hair, drawing his lips closer. The way she had nodded, flushed and slightly out of breath from the intensity of their broken kiss, when he had asked her if she had been sure they should have continued what they had just begun. The way her small body had invited him in, and he longed for nothing more than to mark her with himself. The way they had been rudely interrupted before things got too far. The way had he promised her he would return, and she had assured him she would wait for him. The way he had called her from the moment he stepped through the war room door. The way only silence had answered him, and the bed in his bedroom had been as empty as it had been all nights since he had met her.

But now it was going to be different. Something that had begun would finally end. And it had to be finished properly. So that Aleksander could worship in the temple of the body of someone destined for him by The Making. He himself felt obligated to do so. Nothing happened twice, and yet he had been given his chance. So was he going to seize it? Of course. He wanted to devour this moment until he felt drunk and dizzy from the power of their connection – of how not only their souls, but also their flesh belonged to each other.

The Darkling was roaming his Alina's body with his hands, just as he had during the first time. He felt the electrifying energy singing to him from beneath her skin, not only a complementary power to his own, but also proof of the presence of the life they had both conceived. This life was their shared creation, and now confirmed that they had the right to be one, because only then did they feel fully themselves, like two parts of a greater whole, which only when complete took on a whole new value.

His precious girl sighed against his lips as one of his hands lightly squeezed her full breast. Her fingers began to tug harder at his hair, trying to deepen their kiss even more, so that the boundaries between them would cease to exist, blurred by their tongues moving in unison. Aleksander leaned her in slightly, placing his hand behind her back. He wanted to provide her with as much comfort as possible. The warmth radiating from Alina and the way she trembled when his fingers touched her skin drove him insane, but he tried to control himself. Although the throbbing in his groin was becoming painful, today wasn't the day when his satisfaction would matter the most. Today, his Sun Summoner would experience pleasure on a whole new level, slowly and unhurriedly, until he himself felt satisfied with her fulfillment. That he had offered her everything she deserved, and perhaps even more.

Alina briefly unraveled her fingers from his hair to push his black kefta down his shoulders. But she didn't break their kiss even for a moment, as if afraid someone would get in their way again. That the opportunity they'd been given to fix something that should have become truth nearly two years ago would be squandered, and that simply shouldn't have happened. The balance of the universe would be disrupted once more, and that never ended well.

"Ohhh, Sasha," his precious girl moaned as he finally managed to toss his kefta onto the desk beside them. "Saints, you have no idea how badly I want you," she breathed into his mouth, sending his blood boiling.

"Do you?" he asked her, caressing her breast through the fabric of her nightgown even more intensely than before.

"Yes," she sighed, leaning slightly toward him to give him easier access. "Please, please. I need you."

The knowledge that Alina wanted him so much made the painful throbbing in the Darkling's groin intensify. He, too, dreamed of nothing more than feeling her writhe beneath him as he brought her to the brink of climax. Today, however, he had other plans. He intended to finish what he had started, and even if it meant leaving empty-handed, he could, and would, do it because his Sun Summoner was worth it.

Aleksander, however, needed to test whether her desires were as strong as his own. So he moved his hand down, finding the hem of her nightgown, which he gently tugged up and slipped his hand under, painfully slowly guiding it higher and higher. His precious girl shuddered, slightly spreading her legs to the side. Whether intentional or not, she lightly bit his lower lip, though their kiss never broke. The Black General moaned at the intensity of the sensation. Control was incredibly difficult around her. His body agreed, literally thrashing to release the tension that had built up within him. To end this sweet torture that could only be erased by friction, one of the languages of love.

Aleksander found the hem of her underwear, slipping two fingers underneath. Alina sighed, lifting her buttocks slightly to make it easier for him to remove it. But for now, he was just toying with her. He was moving his hand up and down, reveling in her sweet frustration and feeling the inviting heat radiating from her, the wetness he yearned to immerse himself in.

"Please," his precious girl moaned, writhing beneath him and trying to find his hand by the movement of her hips. "I can't take it anymore."

"What are you asking me for, Little Saint?" the Darkling asked her, knowing she loved it when he called her like that, though he'd been doing it much less often lately. His lips released hers for a moment, and he began kissing her jawline, moving ever so slowly, working his way up to her earlobe.

One of his hands held the nape of her neck to keep her from hitting desk too hard by her back. The other continued to play with the top of her underwear, knowing it only made her more intense.

"Please, help me release this tension. I'm begging you," Alina sighed as his lips returned to hers, tracing the same path along her jawline as before.

His Sun Summoner's skin began to exude an increasingly intense scent of lust, which, combined with her natural floral aroma, threatened to overwhelm the Darkling, who could be cruelly slow when he put his mind to it. And that was precisely the case this time. Because he hadn't been given a second chance to reclaim something that had been taken from him, only to let it go to waste.

"You meant... this, my Alina?" he asked her into her mouth as their lips met again.

His fingers finally slipped under the top of her underwear, lowering it to the middle of her thighs. They brushed against her womanhood as they did so, sensing the fire of her desire emanating from there, and the wetness that would hold back the flames of her lust until someone helped her extinguish it.

"Aleksander..." she sighed, and he repeated the gesture, this time moving from the bottom up.

His precious girl cried out softly, causing the painful throbbing in his groin to resurface.

"What do you want from me, milaya?" he asked her, breaking their kiss to allow her to tilt her head up and begin kissing her neck.

His fingers continued to move up and down, immersed in her sticky wetness. He deliberately didn't push them inside her. Not yet. Not until she asked him to.

"Take me to your bed, Sasha. Please," his Sun Summoner replied with difficulty, shifting her hips slightly to the side to show him where she needed him most, making him smile faintly against her heated skin. "Take me to where I should have been taken long time ago," Alina added, reaching her fingers to his head and writhing under the pressure of his small, painful kisses that were now marking her collarbone.

"Your wish is my command," The Black General replied, stopping his fingers from tracing her womanhood to completely remove her underwear.

With that, he moved his hand from the nape of her neck to the level of her shoulder blades, and with the other, he cupped her below her buttocks to easily lift her from the desk and begin carrying her toward his old bedroom. When he reached his destinaton, he gently laid his precious girl on the satin bed, admiring her rosy cheeks and slightly parted lips. When their eyes met again, Alina didn't need to ask him anything. He slipped both hands under her nightgown, pulling it up to help her slip it over her head. Aleksander knew he had to be especially careful. His Sun Summoner condition demanded special delicacy, but he himself didn't mind. This had always been his plan. He wanted to devour her. To make her realize she was his queen, so she deserved such a treatment.

The Darkling didn't break their eye contact, seeing her gaze wander along his figure. Therefore, wishing his precious girl would continue to look at him, he began to unbuckle the belt around his hips, yanking it painfully slowly out of the belt loops. Then he tugged at the top of his black trousers, lowering them to his knees. Alina's black eyes burned with desire, but if she thought it would end that easily, she would soon discover that The Black General had completely different plans for her.

Aleksander placed both hands on either side of her naked form, then leaned forward to kiss her. He was careful not to press too hard against her stomach as he passionately caressed his solnishka's lips for a few seconds, even allowing her to thread her fingers through her hair and set the pace. But then he broke it off, placing one last, brief caress on her lips. And then he began to move lower and lower down her body, pausing at both of her breasts to gently nibble and suck on her nipples. His precious girl arched her back, letting him know how much this affected her. But Aleksander had other plans for her, so after a painfully long time, his mouth was replaced by his left hand, while he moved lower and lower. The fleeting kiss didn't miss his Sun Summoner's belly, which protected everything he held most dear. The beginning of something The Black General had never truly possessed, something he would now die for.

And finally, his lips moved past her left hip to the inside of her thigh. Alina moaned, gently gripping his hair and pressing his face against her heated skin. The Darkling could already smell her intoxicating aroma, driving him insane. Her intimate scent was available only to him, and anyone who dared to even think about trespassing on his territory would quickly lose not only all four limbs but also their head.

"Let me devour you, Alya," he said just before his free hand pushed her legs apart, and he sank his lips into her womanhood.

Alina moaned, immediately pressing his mouth even more there, writhing under his caresses. Aleksander used his free hand to ensure maximum access to where he knew he brought her the most pleasure, then, taking his time, he caressed her inch by inch, finally finding her most sensitive area and watching his Sun Summoner's body wracked with spasms. He was well on his way, knowing all her desires and favorite positions, so he could bring her to the peak at a pace he himself deemed appropriate. He felt her sticky, hot wetness envelop him as, relying on his skillful lips, he guided his Alina toward imminent climax. He also inserted three fingers in her, adjusting their rhythm to the speed of his sucking and drawing small circles with the tip of his tongue over her most sensitive spot. Her palms tugged at his hair harder and harder, while his precious girl lost control of the sounds she made. Her sighs matched the pace of his caresses, which increased in intensity until his Sun Summoner cried out loudly as spasms of pleasure began to rack her body. Aleksander, however, didn't withdraw his lips, waiting for Alina to finally still. A new wave of wetness enveloped him on all sides as he closed his eyes, savoring her unique taste and trying to ignore the throbbing in his groin, which was becoming a sweet torture worse than the torments of hell.

For a few seconds, neither of them moved, but then his solnishka began to stroke his hair, at which he moved his face from her intimate area to rest his cheek on the inside of her right thigh, continuing to inhale her extraordinary scent, which assaulted his nostrils.

Few seconds later, Alina whispered, "Come here, Sasha. It's time for you, too, to regain what we lost."

Aleksander's blood boiled as he scooted upwards on the mattress. He still wore his shirt, but apart from it, he was completely naked. Naked and ready to lead his Sun Summoner to the edge once more.

"This time I want to hold you in my arms," his precious girl whispered, and he admired how her white hair clung to her damp forehead, making her the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"You are my Little Saint," the Darkling told her, brushing her thick locks away from her face and once again using a term he rarely addressed her with these days. "So you deserve to be worshipped in a way you want. Today is the day I build an altar in the temple of your body," he added, then pushed her thigh slightly apart with his knee so that he could finally slide inside her.

The fact that he had struggled so hard earlier to control himself made Aleksander know it wouldn't take long before he could finally release his tension and let his lust take over.

Alina closed her eyes, placing her hands on his black-shirted shoulders. Her forehead touched his, showing how much she enjoyed the pace he was setting for them now, and how each subsequent movement of their joined hips aroused her more and pushed her towards the fulfillment that was once again approaching. The Black General still held back, but when he felt her nails begin to dig into the thin material, he realized his Sun Summoner was very close. Her breathing quickened, and soft sighs began to escape her lips again. Eventually, they became very irregular, and that was when Aleksander increased his pace. He gritted his teeth, sensing that soon the swelling dam would break, and he would allow a wave of pleasure to wash over him, giving him a moment of oblivion he so desperately craved, yet experienced so rarely.

And then Alina screamed again, burying her face in the fabric of his shirt. The Darkling lost control and surrendered his body to the unimaginable pleasure. His fingers tightened on his precious girl's bare hips, pressing them both closer together. Only when the cloud of fulfillment finally began to dissipate did Aleksander feel his Sun Summoner release her face from his chest to look into his eyes.

"Can we stay like this until morning?" she asked him, placing her still slightly damp hand on his cheek. "I know you don't have much to do here, Sasha. So will you hold me until I fall asleep and never let me go?" his solnishka asked, running her thumb over his carefully trimmed beard.

The Black General remained silent, absorbing the shimmering blackness of her eyes. He felt an incredible peace now, one he had been waiting for all these centuries, and perhaps finally finding it.

"Is this what you desire, milaya?" he asked her, allowing his hand on her hip to pull her closer to him again.

"Yes," his precious girl admitted, finally closing her eyes and yawning softly. "And I wanted the same thing two years ago, before I made the stupidest decision possible."

Her confession made Aleksander close his eyes as well. Before sleep overtook them both, the man said, "So I will, Little Saint. So I will."

***

The boy was sitting on the ground, hidden behind a large oak table, his whole body shaking. His small hands were pressing tightly against his ears as he tried to block out the sounds of the argument. He didn't know this man, but he remembered being here before. A few months ago, when his mother had been looking for something in this same room, methodically searching through every shelf. They had managed to escape without attracting anyone's attention. Today, three-year-old Aleksander somehow knew that he and his mother wouldn't leave this place until she finally spoke to this man. The man, who was leaning forward in a chair with wheels attached to it, and who sat near the door leading into the large mansion, leaving Baghra the only possible escape route through the arched window overlooking the cliff.

But the boy, trembling with fear, hidden behind the table, understood from the words the two adults shouted that one of them would not survive this argument. Their mutual hatred literally hung in the air, which was sparkling with negative emotions. Aleksander curled up in on himself, like a curled-up cat. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he was rocking back and forth slightly, unsure what to do. He had to listen to Baghra, but it wasn't so easy when his world was crumbling and he wanted to crawl to her on all fours and cling to her skirt.

"How dare you lecture me?" his mother screamed at the man sitting by the door. "You brought this on yourself, and now you want something from me? You're not going to get it! You should have died years ago, as you deserved!"

The boy shuddered again, wishing only that Baghra would stop screaming so loudly. He could feel the rage and regret in her voice. He couldn't see her from where he sat, but he was certain she was crying too.

"You killed your own sister and expected leniency? You took away the only thing I cared about, and then you wanted me to look at you the same way as before? You always were and always will be an anomaly. My accident at work, for which I have bitterly atoned," the old man in the wheeled chair replied, but the boy refused to look in his direction. Something about him terrified him, and besides, he couldn't understand the conversation between him and his mother anyway.

"You blamed me for something you yourself did to me!" Baghra shouted back. "You never repented, forever showing me how much you hated me!"

The stranger at the door was silent for a long moment, causing Aleksander to count his breaths as he spoke. He needed some kind of stable value, something to cling to so he wouldn't collapse and cease to exist.

"I won't give you my son!" his mother threatened when the hooded man still didn't respond. "He's an anomaly too, just like me!"

"Unlike you, your son is from the next generation, so his existence is more natural. You can keep him; I don't want him at all. But I'll be watching you both. And if I see the qualities I'm looking for in him, then I'll claim him. And you know that's exactly what will happen, because I always get what I want," the stranger warned Baghra, using the wheels on his chair to move forward a bit with his hands.

"So there are worse and better anomalies?" Aleksander's mother mocked the old man, and the boy grew increasingly frightened. He had never seen her cry before, as she had always been rather cold and cruel. Now, however, her voice had become hoarse with tears, which disturbed the boy more than the familiar rage that had become one of the variables that had turned into a part of the three-year-old's daily life. "Whoever came up with the idea of saving you has lost their mind! But I will correct this mistake! Once and for all!" With that, Baghra took a few steps forward, holding out her hands.

Aleksander couldn't bear it any longer. Sobbing, he rose from the ground, fearing for his mother's fate. Without even knowing what had driven him, he walked to the center of the room, peering from behind the table to gaze through tearful eyes at the only person he had close to him. As fate would have it, this person was raising her hands to perform a shadow cut. However, when she saw him, she was completely distracted. The shadow blade shot out not straight ahead of her, striking the man in the wheeled chair, but the wooden beam supporting the ceiling. It cracked with a dull fissure, taking the entire roof structure with it, and before Aleksander could even move, small pine poles collapsed on his head, and everything was enveloped in darkness.

The boy uncovered the face he'd hidden behind his wet sleeve, discovering that the dust hanging in the air had begun to settle, and from behind the clouds a figure started to emerge, somewhat grotesque and twisted in all directions, yet looking as if neither death nor the kiss of time could harm them.

Aleksander quickly glanced back, completely oblivious to anyone behind him. The room appeared deserted, and apart from him and the hooded man, there was no one else there, least of all Baghra, who had suddenly vanished.

And then boy dared to glance at his hands. They certainly couldn't be described as those of a child. One was made of metal, while the other belonged to an adult man. A quick glance at his feet confirmed this. The Darkling no longer resembled a three-year-old child hiding from the sounds of an argument. He must have traveled back in time to reality, transforming into the over five-hundred-year-old Grisha he now was. Only the stranger in the wheeled chair hadn't changed at all. He looked exactly as he had five centuries ago. And as it turned out, he couldn't be described as a stranger at all. After all, Ilya Morozova had founded their entire family line. It was with him that it all had begun.

"I see you've found me," he said to his grandson, who for some reason couldn't even move. His feet were literally glued to the ground, as if someone had chained them to it with iron binds. "But it's only a vision. You still have to reach me in material form, Aleksander," the old man stated, his abyssal eyes peering out at him from under his hood. "I also advise you against harming me, otherwise all your loved ones will suffer," he warned, intertwining his bony fingers, which resembled the claws of a predator, before him.

"How are you even able to communicate with me?" The Black General asked his ancestor, trying to free his feet, but to no avail.

"Don't forget which of us knows most of the secrets of merzost," Morozova reminded him first. "Whenever you hold Anmei in your arms, I am capable of doing so."

The Darkling gritted his teeth at the sound of Alina's true name. His ancestor wanted to prove to him that he knew her better than he did. That his grandson was merely a pawn in his hands, just like his Sun Summoner. But Ilya didn't know everything about him. His descendant had been through hell in his life, and even if his grandfather had followed his fate, he had no idea what was going on in his head and his shattered soul.

"How?" The Black General asked his relative, wishing for nothing more than to approach him and shake his frail shoulders with all his might.

Ilya looked at him curiously, as if he weren't interacting with his grandson at all, but another subject of his experiments.

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked, not hiding his disappointment. "Your children are living amplifiers, just like you. Anmei acts as a conduit between me and them. Besides, The Sun Summoner is also one of my creations, my boy. And it's precisely for this reason that all the amplifiers you sought had a direct connection to her. Only, they were never meant to be so foolishly destroyed. What a waste of power and my hard work to ruin something that was also created by the effects of merzost. All you and Anmei have accomplished is destabilizing the balance within The Heart of the Universe. I know it's not your doing, Aleksander, but if you had focused on your calling instead of fighting, you wouldn't have wasted such power." Ilya shook his head, nervously unraveling and re-lacerating his pathologically thin fingers.

"What do you want from me, old man?" Aleksander asked his ancestor, feeling rage dangerously welling up inside him, clouding his common sense. "And why have you suddenly appeared in my life after all these years?"

Morozova tilted his head to the side, and the abyss of his black irises began to swallow his grandson.

"I want you to repay your debt," he informed him, as if discussing something entirely mundane.

"Debt?" The Black General clenched his fists, feeling the tingle of power beneath his skin, a sign that his shadows were trying to remind him of their existence, prompting him to use them.

"Don't try any tricks, boy. I know you, Aleksander. You're a protector, that's what you were born for. The one thing your mother did right was choose your name," Ilya warned him, seeming so confident that the Darkling hesitated, realizing his grandfather hadn't lasted this long, being a fool. "You're quite a disappointment," Morozova continued, leaning forward a bit in his chair. "I had high hopes for you, but you displeased me. You lived, because I always saw something more in you, even though your mother's betrayal suggested I should destroy everything connected to her. But I waited patiently for something to change. And perhaps now my patience would finally pay off."

The Black General trembled inside. Fortunately, his rage proved stronger than the pain and dissatisfaction that could have harmed him.

"Then why didn't you kill me?" Aleksander asked his ancestor, realizing he had voiced a doubt that had long been on his mind.

How magnanimous his relative had proven. The problem was that his motives were saturated with deceit and hypocrisy.

"Your will to live is admirable, Aleksander," his grandfather admitted, tilting his head slightly again. "Not like your mother's. She didn't want to exist, so the best punishment I could give her was to make her do it. And to guard you until you began to take care of her." Morozova clasped his hands together in front of him again, and a rune materialized in them from nowhere, which he began to turn over in his fingers.

The Darkling narrowed his eyes at his ancestor, sending him a look of disappointment and rage.

"You madman..." Aleksander began, but his grandfather began shaking his head, interrupting him.

"We both want something from each other, boy," he announced, and his grandson instinctively fell silent as he sensed the uspoken threat lurking in his words. "I'm sure you want Anmei to live to see the day she gives birth, right? Well, imagine that I also want the same thing you do. Therefore, I advise you to seek me out before the war rages in Ravka, Aleksander. And before you might not be able to do so," Ilya warned his descendant, stopping his fingertips and instead staring at him with his blank, expressionless eyes.

"I want nothing from you," The Black General stated, once again donning his mask of someone whose intentions were impossible to discern.

It was his protective mechanism, and The Shadow Summoner had used it for centuries, including with his own mother. Now, it turned out, he had to use it with other members of his family as well. Well, that was nothing new to him. The disappointment, of course, stung deeply, because all these centuries he had idealized his grandfather. But now it turned out that Baghra had inherited more from her father than she would admit. They clearly hated each other, but they shared a number of traits that made them two sides of the same coin. And this was equally repulsive and terrifying to the Darkling. Because, like no one else, he knew what to expect.

"You surely want to be free from merzost, boy," his ancestor commented, his gaze roaming the entire body of his still-immobilized grandson. "And you surely also want to lift the additional burden from Anmei. Wait a little longer, and the truth of my words will hit you even harder. When time begins to slip through your fingers, you will realize that our fates are linked, and without me, you will do little. This is not blackmail, but a promise. An offer of help that will benefit us both, trust me," Morozov added, letting his hood fall back over his black, bottomless eyes.

"And should I trust you?" Aleksander shook his head at his grandfather. "Longevity has only intensified your madness. You don't seem to believe what you're saying. This is the ravings of a mentally ill man, which you undoubtedly are," The Black General commented, once again suppressing his dissatisfaction that another member of his family had so painfully exploited and disappointed him.

"The choice is yours, what you believe and what you don't," Ilya warned him, then looked directly at him. Two forces clashed, one more ancient than the other. Aleksander might be several centuries younger, but the burden of experience he carried was certainly heavier than that of his ancestor, who, apart from cursing his entire family and delving into the mysteries of merzost, never had done anything for others. Unless, at most, he had harmed them. "I'll give you a clue to finding me, brilliant boy," Morozov said to his grandson. "Where the history of our family is written on the map, look for me there." With that, Ilya clapped his bony hands, causing his unsuspecting descendant to squeeze his eyes shut.

When he opened them, Aleksander realized he was still lying in bed next to his Alina, his hands on her waist. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead, but he allowed his dark thoughts to drift away as they were replaced by righteous anger. But would a new solution for merzost always work? Would this method one day prove imperfect, and would black magic reclaim its bloody toll?

The Black General couldn't say it for sure. One thing he understood was that if he solved this verbal charade, he would find his ancestor. The question was, however, whether he was truly ready to do so.

***

Alina was struggling with a sinking feeling of dread. Until then, she had effectively avoided people and wouldn't let anyone get close to her. The children at the orphanage hadn't welcomed her well, but that didn't bother her at all, because she knew how to take care of herself. Ana Kuya didn't like her either. The girl had become an outsider and spent most of her time finding solace in drawing. Until she saw this clumsy boy named Mal, who was secretly watching her. From then on, Alina sat across from him when they ate meals together. They would stare at each other in private, occupying the farthest seats in the dining hall, and simply remain silent. But then the girl noticed that the thin kid with the long, curly eyes liked to watch her draw. After a while, he became so indiscreet that the previously silent seven-year-old deliberately opened her paper to see his eyes sparkle whenever she sketched animals.

One spring, when Alina finally turned eight, Mal snuck up behind her, watching her try to paint yellow ducklings pacing clumsily across the yard behind their mother duck. And everything would probably have been the same as always, had the boy not tripped over a loose beam in the fence, literally colliding with the girl, who caught his wrist at the last moment, keeping his nose from meeting with the hard ground.

And then Alina felt something that struck a powerful fear within her. That strange tingling sensation beneath her skin, something she hadn't allowed to surface for months, because it had robbed her of more than anything else in her life. No matter what the nine-year-old, named Mal, had done to her, she couldn't allow herself to be affected. So, as soon as she helped him sit down on the short grass growing back after winter, she immediately released his hand, trying with all her willpower to forget what had happened. A moment after their physical contact was broken, Alina's body began to quiet. She tried to breathe slowly, calming herself after this surprising discovery. Her new friend was different from the others, there was no doubt about that. He was a freak like her, too, so maybe they should stick together?

And then Mal grabbed her hand again. This time, however, nothing happened. The eight-year-old looked at him with horror, but also obvious relief. Whatever had happened earlier might have been a one-off. Perhaps the shock of contact with the first person in months had affected her so much? Or perhaps she was so afraid of someone's touch that she exaggerated everything?

"Thanks," the boy said to her, struggling to his feet. "I'm Mal," he stated, deeply embarrassed, immediately triggering a kind of protective instinct within Alina. The eight-year-old also stood up from the grass, dusting off her ugly and well-worn brown skirt.

"I know," she told him with a slight smile. "We've been sitting together in the dining room for months, and we've never had a chance to talk before."

Mal began digging a hole in the grass with his shoe, looking down at his feet.

"I thought you didn't want to be friends with me," he replied, not even looking at her. "You seemed more like someone who preferred being alone," he confessed, still not raising his gaze to her. "But I really like your drawings. I feel happy when I look at them," he whispered.

Alina felt a strange sadness. This boy seemed just as lonely as she did. Or maybe they had met for a reason? Maybe the girl should finally trust someone?

"Want to see my other sketches?" she asked him shyly, seeing that Mal was having even more trouble making friends than she was. "Come, I'll show you," she said, hesitating for a moment, but then grabbing his sleeve.

Again, nothing happened. The eight-year-old felt nothing untoward. She pulled her new friend toward a crumbling stone wall, and when he sat down, she joined him with her sketchbook.

Mal was a little apprehensive about her at first. He kept his distance, which made her think he might not like her at all. Maybe she'd still be alone and misjudge him. But then his demeanor changed slightly. He reached for one of the filled pages in her drawing book, pointing to a small, fluffy rabbit Alina had drawn just before winter.

"How lovely," he said, touching the page with his finger and smearing his fingertip with graphite. "I wish I could draw that well. Unfortunately, I can't." The boy looked down at his feet, dangling from the wall in their worn leather boots.

The girl felt the need to help him again. It was as if fate had sent him not only to be friends, but so she could take care of him herself.

"I'm sure you have other talents," she assured him, smiling faintly at him.

Mal bit his lower lip and hid his eyes beneath the long, curly hair that fell across his forehead.

"Me?" he whispered softly. "I don't think so. Unless annoying Ana Kuya counts, in which case you can call me a master in that field," he stated, sounding very serious, which made Alina giggle.

"I don't like her," the eight-year-old commented, and her companion finally dared to look at her openly. "She's harsh and unfair. If you want, we can annoy her a little together," she offered, snapping her sketchbook shut and tucking a short pencil into the apron of her worn dress.

The corner of Mal's mouth quirked upward slightly.

"It's a shame I'm not Grisha," he sighed, looking back down. "Then they'd take me to the Palace," he replied dreamily, staring at the yellow ducklings strolling around.

Alina felt a twinge of anxiety. Her new friend's words reminded her of something. And now, when perhaps her loneliness could finally end, he spoke of a place someone else had once mentioned to her. Did that mean the people there hunted for Grisha? For all children who were different from others?

"To the Palace?" the eight-year-old asked her friend, feeling her stomach tighten. "What Palace are you talking about?"

Mal turned to face her, his eyes twinkling slightly.

"About where they take you when you pass the Grisha tests. To the capital. Where you sleep in silk sheets and eat from gold plates," the boy said, clearly dreamy. "But I don’t have any chance for that. I'm quite ordinary." His expression darkened, and he looked down at the ground again, wringing his fingers.

The girl could finally have someone she could befriend. And if Mal wasn't cut out for palace life, then neither was she. She didn't want to be alone again, and if being ordinary protected her from that, then hiding her light suddenly made even more sense to her. No one would know she could do things others couldn't. She wouldn't be Grisha, but she would have a new family. Alina had no desire to move to a new place. Even if the people there weren't starving at all and ate something other than overcooked vegetables in salted water pretending to be soup.

No. She and Mal would stick together. Another reason to hide her light had just instilled new hope in her. She didn't have to blame herself for that. Now she could do it for someone else, too. And for some reason, that made her even happier.

"Me too," she assured him, reaching for his hand. "And that's why we'll stick together, if you want."

The boy smiled broadly at her, returning her embrace. "Thank you," he whispered. "I'm finally not alone."

The Sun Summoner opened her eyes, feeling tears streaming down her cheeks. The images from her dream still haunted her, reminding her how much she'd sacrificed for someone who wasn't even worth it. She was angry at herself for wasting her time and her own potential, almost paying for it with her life. And why had she done it? To avoid being alone? To have a semblance of the family she'd lost?

This wasn't the last time she'd denied her identity. She'd done it again and again, and in the end – not wanting to hear the painful truth – she'd decided to get rid of it by killing someone who had always believed in her and seen more in her than anyone else. But now it was time to change that. Alina wouldn't sacrifice anything again, and if she did, it would be in the name of love, not puppyish sympathy and fear of rejection. The Sun Summoner had decided to be the queen Aleksander saw in her. The one he often spoke of, but never rushed her to become. One who understood what she desired and was capable of pursuing her goal, which was the common good of all Grisha and the independence of Ravka.

The girl glanced around, not seeing The Black General anywhere. They weren't currently in Os Kervo, so the Darkling didn't have the typical duties he'd been expected to perform when he ruled the entire western region. Perhaps he'd gone to look around his former office. It seemed day had long since dawned, so Alina had slept soundly through the night. As her thoughts drifted to the events of the previous few hours, a blush bloomed on her cheeks. Aleksander had a way of unleashing instincts within her that she hadn't even suspected existed. And she adored every one of them, even the smallest. With him, she felt like a woman. She understood that she was desired.

The girl swung her legs out of bed, reaching for her robe. She intended to get dressed immediately, but first she wanted to find The Black General. The problem was, such a simple act as rising from her bed completely drained her energy. The Sun Summoner placed her hand on her stomach, feeling power dancing beneath her skin. She knew she had to eat something, otherwise her twins would be too active. And then she wouldn't be able to function normally, and all she would have the strength to do was lie still.

Alina glanced at the nightstand, finding breakfast waiting for her. Sweet rolls, fruit, a glass of milk. Cottage cheese, egg spread, and fresh lettuce. A smile immediately spread on her lips as she realized that someone had taken care of all her needs. And that she knew perfectly well who it was.

The girl ate a large portion of the meal prepared for her, and only then did she manage to get out of bed under her own power. She walked over to the chair where her underwear and a loose black dress were waiting for her. Alina remembered the evening's argument with Aleksander, who had intended to pressure Nikolai into sending servants to help her with basic tasks. But The Sun Summoner didn't want to owe Lantsov anything. Besides, the longer she felt independent, the more determined she became to start each new day.

The future queen of Ravka dressed, struggling with a slight dizziness, and then headed toward the war room, looking around for the Darkling. All she found were new maps spread across the desk, and the Black General himself was nowhere to be seen. Alina frowned, slightly worried. Aleksander hadn't mentioned any plans to her, and since he was merely a guest, she couldn't think of anything that could possibly consume him. The girl felt a lump in her throat and was about to grab her kefta to start looking for him when a knock sounded at the door.

The Sun Summoner immediately turned in that direction, feeling her heart begin to pound. The door to the war room opened, and Genya's face appeared there. Alina smiled, but it wasn't her she wanted to see right now. Still, she felt grateful that she wasn't alone with her worries. Especially since her uncertainty must have been noticeable, because The Tailor approached her quickly and almost immediately grabbed her hand.

"Sunshine," her red-haired friend greeted her. "Is something wrong? You look awfully pale." Genya checked her pulse for a long moment, but seemed to find nothing, because, somewhat reassured, she released her palm.

"Do you know where Aleksander is?" The Sun Summoner asked, waiting for The Tailor to stop holding her hand to her forehead, which she was now doing. Her friend met her gaze and finally finished her examination, seemingly relatively satisfied with the results.

"He's the one who sent me here," she replied to Alina, who felt the knot around her neck begin to loosen. "The General asked me to tell you that he went with The Apparat to the library to search for some archives."

The future queen of Ravka frowned at this.

"Archives? What archives?" She wanted to know, feeling that her friend could explain it to her, and that the Darkling must have asked her to do this.

Genya looked into her eyes with a reassuring expression, intended to calm her down.

"The General said they had to make sure that after the wedding, Ehri wouldn't be given command of Ravka's armed forces," she explained, trying to sound completely normal, even though the matter at hand was a serious one.

The Sun Summoner's eyes widened. Could Nikolai be so foolish? Could he really act so as to knowingly entrust the national army to someone from a hostile power?

"What?" Alina felt her hands clench into fists.

The Tailor sensed her nervousness and immediately began to reassure her.

"Yes, it would be a tragedy, but calm down, Sunshine," Genya advised her, approaching her to take her hand. "The General won't let Shu Han simply erase us from the map."

But unfortunately, that didn't comfort The Sun Summoner.

"Saints..." she said to herself, suddenly fully understanding Aleksander's sudden disappearance.

The Tailor hurried to reassure her.

"The Apparat knows all the marriage statutes, Alina, don't worry," she stated, squeezing her hand. "The General believes we're safe, otherwise a similar situation would have occurred many times in the past and Ravka would cease to exist. But they just have to make sure of that," she added, stroking the back of her friend's hand.

She couldn't help but think about how calculating Nikolai could be when it seemed the ground was shifting beneath his feet.

Her gut told her to at least check it out. Genya knew all the court customs and could therefore be of invaluable help. Especially since The Sun Summoner also had to be useful at last. Lantsov looked for a revenge on them, but he turned it from a private matter into a matter of state importance. And appealing to their shared past and perhaps the last vestiges of his common sense, Alina wanted to speak with him privately. His stupidity and irresponsibility had gone from disturbing to dangerous. And the girl refused to accept the idea of her children growing up in such a reality. Aleksander wanted to change it, and she couldn't stand by and watch him do it alone.

"Don't you know where Ehri is before the wedding starts?" The Sun Summoner asked Genya, receiving a surprised look from her in return.

"I'm sure she was separated from Nikolai, according to our tradition, because it's considered a bad omen for the groom to meet the bride just before the ceremony," The Tailor explained to Alina, carefully studying her flustered face. "Why do you ask about that, Sunshine?"

The future queen of Ravka had just received the confirmation she'd been waiting for and began looking around, as if searching for something.

"Will Nikolai be in his private chambers now?" she asked Genya, absently braiding her hair and heading for the exit leading from the war room to the corridor of The Little Palace.

The redhead looked at her in horror, following The Sun Summoner toward the main gates, which led to the courtyard leading to The Grand Palace. Seeing Alina walking quickly down the corridor with The Corporalki on her heels, four oprichniki immediately followed her, becoming their silent escort.

"Alina, what are you doing?" Genya scolded her, but she wouldn't be able to stop her, as they had already entered the gardens connecting the two buildings. "Nikolai is probably busy preparing for the ceremony," she said to her friend from behind, but she knew this was her only opportunity to have this conversation.

"Please, take me through the side entrance to his private chamber," The Sun Summoner ordered. "No one knows this as well as you."

The Tailor, however, didn't like this idea at all. Not one bit.

"Sunshine, maybe we should..." The redhead trailed off as Alina entered The Grand Palace through a side wing and headed toward the royal residence, determined to find the right door, even if Genya didn't help her.

The future queen of Ravka had lived here for several months last year, yet she had never paid much attention to the layout of the quarters. It seemed inappropriate to maintain such close relationship with the young Tsar, so whenever she and Nikolai had had to meet, they had chosen a shared room.

Finally, the girl stopped before the heavily guarded entrance to the separate palace area, glancing back one last time at Genya, who was still there.

"Here?" she asked, nodding at the surprised guards who recognized her and stepped aside.

The Tailor nodded, but terror etched on her face as she gave a small nod. The future queen of Ravka looked her straight in the eye, ordering her to stay in the corridor.

"Wait here for me, Genya," she asked, then turned her back to the redhead before she could stop her.

She pushed open the double doors and, unhindered by the guards, entered the spacious chamber, where she saw the young Tsar standing before a tall mirror, examining himself and buttoning his white shirt.

"Nikolai," she addressed him in a firm voice, and he froze, just as his fingers gripping the button had.

Then the blond slowly turned toward The Sun Summoner, wearing his famous mocking smile.

"Sankta Alina," he told her, propping himself up with one hand. "I must admit... what an unpleasant surprise," he said, his gaze traveling along the girl's figure.

She wasted no time. Aleksander could have returned from the library at any moment and raised the alarm, worried about her disappearance. Especially since Genya had also come here, and he would have no one to turn to if he wanted to ensure that the future queen of Ravka was safe.

“Is what you’re doing revenge?” she asked the young ruler bluntly.

But he frowned dramatically, pretending he didn’t know what she was talking about.

“Revenge?” he asked, raising his free hand to his mouth to tap his lower lip. “What revenge are you talking about?”

Alina tilted her chin high, refusing to be deceived.

“On me and Aleksander,” she stated, giving her interlocutor a pointed look, a mixture of contempt and disbelief.

Lantsov Puppy put his hand to his chest, as if her words had somehow offended him.

“No, Sankta Alina,” he informed her, allowing his lips to curl into a lazy smile. “It’s an investment.”

The Sun Summoner took a few steps forward so she could look the young Tsar straight in the eye.

“An investment, you say?” she asked, frowning at him. "And who benefits from it?" she wanted to know, feeling her hands, hanging by her sides, begin to clench into fists.

Nikolai held her gaze.

"Ravka, of course," he replied, showing Alina that he didn't consider her a worthy conversation partner and that the chance they once had to communicate had long since been squandered.

The Sun Summoner narrowed her eyes at him, showing her that he should take her seriously.

"How does Ravka benefit from this, Tsar?" she asked, her expression becoming cold and distant, for this man didn't deserve her understanding and respect, which he had squandered when he had exposed his kingdom to the fate of a slave in the hands of a foreign power.

Nikolai sobered slightly, clearly displeased by her dismissal.

"You're more rational than that madman, Alina," he told her, but after a moment, he stopped smiling altogether. "You realize the state our treasury and our army are in," he reminded her, thinking this attempt at manipulation and confusion would work on the white-haired girl.

But she frowned again, the frown deepening even further.

"What do you mean, I'm more rational?" she asked, tired of his games and waiting for Lantsov Puppy to finally get to the point.

But instead, Nikolai focused his gaze on her stomach, remaining silent for a moment.

When he finally spoke, he said, "You're right, Sankta Alina. I take it back. You're not rational at all."

The Sun Summoner's hands itched to summon her powers and show the blond idiot he shouldn't try to insult her. But she could cause an even bigger scandal, and she didn't want that. Ravka was already dealing with a series of various problems and didn't need another one that might upset the common citizens to the point of chaos again.

"What about Zoya?" the girl asked instead, not hiding her disgust at her former fiancé.

But here, Lantsov Puppy surprised her a bit, as he seemed genuinely shocked by her question.

"Zoya?" he added, trying to sound nonchalant, but it was obvious that the mention of The Squaller had alarmed him somewhat.

"You used her in a rather perfidious way, I must admit," Alina told him, shaking her head pityingly. "And now she's in custody, and you don't even care about her fate. When did you learn to sacrifice your loved ones, Nikolai?" she asked him, unsure if she was so blind she couldn't see anything, or if he had changed so drastically.

The young ruler genuinely seemed surprised. Sure, he was skilled at feigning emotion and manipulating those he spoke to, but something in his facial expression suggested to The Sun Summoner that this time he wasn't lying.

"Zoya, being my spy?" he asked incredulously, momentarily forgetting that his involvement in the world of politics had transformed him into a calculating individual, ready to do anything to save what was important to him.

Alina felt a twinge of surprise, but immediately masked it. To play this game on equal terms, she had to lay her strongest cards on the table to see how her opponent would react.

"Aren't you afraid your machinations will see the light of day?" the future queen of Ravka asked the blond, bringing out the heaviest artillery in her arsenal of superiority. "That you can't produce an heir to the throne, which makes your position very precarious?"

Nikolai paled slightly, but quickly regained his composure. He knew Aleksander shared all the information with his Sun Summoner, so even this couldn't be the slightest secret from her. Still, hearing this from his former fiancée certainly wasn't easy for him. And so the mask he had worn momentarily slipped, revealing the little boy hiding beneath.

"And how will they see the light of day, Alina?" he asked her, taking a step forward and looking down into her eyes, perhaps wanting to prove his dominance over her. "Your lover himself couldn't accept the fact that he couldn't reveal it for political reasons. And then?" Here, Lantsov Puppy narrowed his eyes at her, clearly mocking her. "Then it won't matter anyway. Not everyone needs children to keep their position," he remarked, his pale eyes turning as cold as ice.

Alina once again felt the urge to raise her hands and place a few huge burn marks across his gleeful face.

"What are you insinuating?" she hissed, and a warning ball of light appeared in her palm, which Nikolai ignored.

Instead, he focused his gaze on her rounded belly again, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Nothing," he said, implying he had no idea what The Sun Summoner was talking about. "Absolutely nothing."

Alina created another ball of light, this time in her other hand.

"You claim you're doing this for Ravka, but does Ehri share your sentiment?" she asked, gritting her teeth.

The young Tsar didn't change his posture or expression.

"Of course," he remarked, ignoring The Sun Summoner's raging emotions. The girl's breathing slowed and grew louder, knowing she needed to calm down, which wasn't easy at all. But she couldn't let her emotions overwhelm all of Aleksander's efforts. What would he say if he learned that his solnishka had come to Lantsov and ruined their already strained relationship on his wedding day? The Darkling wanted it too, but not today, and not under these circumstances. He'd always told her that patience was a trait of kings, and she had finally learned to listen to him.

"Well, she told me something different," The Sun Summoner said, to which Nikolai flinched slightly, but quickly regained his composure.

"It's clear that everyone thinks of their own homeland first, Sankta Alina," he replied, though doubt flickered in his eyes. "I feel exactly the same way about Shu Han. But that will change, I know it," the blond man told her with a slight shrug.

"You're a fool," Alina stated, then gritted her teeth to prevent herself from doing anything foolish.

Lantsov Puppy shook his head dramatically at this.

"I'm not the one sleeping with Ravka's biggest enemy," he emphasized, wanting to humiliate his interlocutor and show her that she was no better than he was.

But The Sun Summoner tilted her chin up, aware of her worth and the fact that she was someone's most important asset and didn't need to buy anyone's devotion or love.

"Ravka's biggest enemy is you, Nikolai," she told him, letting the balls of light in her hands fade as quickly as they had appeared. "You can't accept the fact that you're a weak ruler. That you've failed everyone. And that's why you'll lose your throne," she promised him, smiling icily, the smile not reaching her black, emotionless eyes. "And the worst part is that no one will help you with this." Having said this, Alina turned her back on the young Tsar and marched towards the exit of his private chamber, not even waiting to see if he would stop her.

***

Aleksander approached his Sun Summoner to brush her white hair back, exposing her pale skin. He leaned over her bare shoulder for a moment and placed a light kiss there, then reached his fingers toward the strings of her corset, tugging them lightly. It was a special kind of stiffening brace for a ball gown, which didn't constrict the wearer's waist, but simply allowed the gown to drape nicely at the top, flaring out to the sides below the ribs. Alina had asked the Materialki to make her something like this for this very occasion, as she intended to look presentable and – as she had assured the Darkling – she didn't want to embarrass him in front of all these foreign guests and aristocrats.

Aleksander shook his head slightly, removing his lips from her velvety skin. His Sun Summoner had no idea that her radiance would outshine everyone gathered in the throne room, even if she herself had stepped out among them dressed quite simply and without any makeup. In her presence, everything else ceased to exist. It transformed into a blur of grey that only her light could illuminate.

The Darkling's fingers pulled at the strings at the level of her shoulder blades, forming a skillful knot there after a moment. Then he spread her white hair down her back again, gazing at how her long locks delicately sparkled in the light of the candles burning in the room. For a long moment, The Black General simply stood there, admiring her beauty. Hundreds of thoughts raced through his mind, so his precious girl finally noticed his distraction and turned to him. She saw him watching her, so she approached him, reaching a hand to touch his face.

"Sasha?" she said to him quietly as her hand settled on his cheek, and he covered it with his own. "Did you find anything disturbing in the archives?" she asked, studying him carefully, searching his face for any signs of anxiety that might herald the coming episode with merzost.

Aleksander shook his head, his thumb lightly brushing the delicate skin of her wrist. He let her hand adjust the collar of his black and silver kefta, then looked into her eyes.

"As I suspected, there's nothing to worry about," he replied, seeing the noticeable relief wash over her face. This reassured him, at least partially, for he knew they would soon find themselves among fools who would do their best to unsettle them. "Fortunately, the right to command Ravka's armed forces still belongs to the member of the ruling dynasty, not his consort," he explained.

Alina bit her lower lip, considering it for a second.

“And you, Sasha?” she asked him after a long moment of silence, glancing at him again. “As Regent, don’t you have the same right?”

Aleksander released her hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yes, I have it, milaya. But only in West Ravka," he replied, seeing that she was once again pondering something intensely.

"And what about war?" his precious girl wanted to know. "If Shu Han decided to attack us?"

The Darkling frowned at her doubts. Alina was clearly as concerned about this situation as he was. Although she was just entering the world of politics, she already understood that a single mistake could completely change the rules of the game and create a whole new balance of power on the map. The problem was especially acute when someone blatantly underestimated the threat, as Lantsov Puppy was doing. Moreover, this ignorance could set in motion a chain of events that would have to be interrupted very violently to stop them. And that very often meant war – more or less bloody, but always entailing unnecessary, avoidable casualties.

"Then we have the right to defend ourselves regardless of the Crown," Aleksander explained to his precious girl. Alina seemed to calm down a bit. Her hand, which had been absently adjusting the collar of his kefta, moved once more to his cheek to stroke it.

"That's good," she said, her eyes twinkling slightly as emotions filled them, a mixture of not only doubt but also relief.

The Darkling simply stared at her for a moment. He wanted to make sure his Sun Summoner didn't add anything more, but when she didn't, he said, "Milaya, you mustn't torment yourself with such things now," he reminded her, feeling her skin shimmer beneath his fingertips in response to his touch. "You know I won't let anyone harm our family. If anyone tries to do so, they'll regret it bitterly," he promised her.

Alina exhaled sharply, then lowered her arm to her side to snuggle up to Aleksander, wrapping her arms around his waist. The man closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of her hair. That unique aroma of irises that always reminded him of her.

"I know that," she replied, hugging him for a moment, then pulling away, nodding slightly toward her golden dress draped over the back of a nearby chair. The Darkling reached for it to help her slip it on, zipping it up and smoothing back the hair that was now spilling down her back. "But something's going to happen today, Sasha. I just know it," she replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty, while she was adjusting the fit of her wide ballgown along her figure and assessing whether it was properly concealing her pregnancy.

The Black General knew that denial wouldn't calm her down anyway. Especially since he shared her concerns, and perhaps it would be better if they were both aware of all the possible scenarios, so they could react quickly enough to the unexpected.

"I feel it too, milaya," he told her, their eyes meeting in the tall mirror Alina now was standing before. "But we should wait to see how this all unfolds." The Darkling's gaze trailed along his Sun Summoner's figure, wondering if she needed any additional assistance in preparing for the ceremony. "Or perhaps I should request that servants be sent here from The Grand Palace?" he asked again, but her black eyes visible in the glass surface had turned icy cold.

"I want nothing from the Lantsovs while we're here, my love," she replied, spinning around so she could look at The Black General face to face. "All I need is us," she stated, snuggling closer to him again, ignoring the wrinkling of her ball gown.

Aleksander felt a wave of peace wash over him. He was proud of how Alina's attitude had changed. Where had the monarchy's greatest advocate from just a year ago gone?

"You will be the best queen, my Alina," he assured her, pressing her head to his chest. "Soon."

***

The new Regent of West Ravka was standing in the center of the throne room, keeping an eye on the events around him. The Apparat continued his excruciatingly long speech, rich in titles and the conditions for a marriage between the ruler of Os Alta and the princess of Shu Han. Aleksander knew all this by heart, yet he tried to concentrate on the ceremony, to detect any theoretical irregularities.

But something else disturbed him from doing it properly. He clenched his fists, and his arms slumped at his sides, when he tried not to show how furious he was now. It seemed as irrational as it was fatal. Whatever Makhi Kir-Taban, deposed from the throne in Ahmrat Yen, was doing here, her presence spelled trouble. The Darkling knew she wouldn't be here unless someone had invited her. Nikolai's recklessness had just reached a new level, filling The Shadow Summoner with disbelief that someone who, among all the Lantsovs, had seemed to be the least idiotic could be the greatest fool of them all.

Makhi Kir-Taban, whose grandmother Leyti had seized power from her for her imperialistic ambitions, had been invited to the wedding of the King of Ravka to her own sister, who inherited the throne in her stead. The very concept of the former ruler being one of the honored guests at a wedding ceremony in a country which Shu Han had always sought to assimilate within its borders struck Aleksander as so utterly absurd that only Lantsov Puppy could have considered it a good idea.

Makhi turned out to be a tall, proud woman with aristocratic features. She wore the traditional national clothes from across the southern border, but they were richly decorated and bespoke of her high birth. She was surrounded by a group of twelve female warriors, known as Tavgharad. They constituted an elite force protecting all the rulers from Ahmrat Yen, undergoing rigorous military training. They were all dressed identically – they wore black uniforms with a falcon beak carved from garnet on the left epaulet, black boots, and square black caps over their pulled-back hair. Each also wielded long katanas. Although their faces seemingly betrayed no emotion, The Black General knew they were keeping an eye on everything happening around their queen. Like Aleksander's oprichniki, they had been trained for this purpose. They were also very dangerous, and each of them could single-handedly defeat several armed men.

The Darkling listened intently as the words of the marriage vows were being spoken. He watched as The Apparat performed the entire ceremony, step by step, looking as if this was not the wedding he wanted to preside over. His face was completely blank, and the cleric had transformed into nothing more than a skilled craftsman at work, knowledgeable in his duties and expected, as the high priest, to bless the marriage of the ruler of Ravka.

Aleksander stared blankly ahead, his thoughts drifting increasingly to other events. To a completely different wedding ceremony, one he himself had attended over thirty years ago, when he had just begun his service to the Crown as General Kirigan. The same unease and disgust like then gripped his stomach as Nikolai and Ehri's figures transformed before his eyes into the elegantly dressed Pyotr and Tatiana Lantsov, whom the Darkling had lined up to congratulate and wish them well on their new paths.

Aleksander suppressed a wave of disgust that washed over him as he strode toward the newlywed royal couple. He was holding in his hands an intricately crafted, ornate box, designed by his Materialki and encrusted with precious stones, to be presented as a gift to the Tsar and his wife. Pyotr was a man of ordinary appearance, but the same air of self-confidence typical of all Lantsovs clung to him like a second skin, giving him the look of someone who ignored others and pursued his goal over dead bodies. Tatiana had fair hair and could even be considered beautiful. Yet the very fact of her origins made her utterly unattractive to The Black General. Nothing Fjerdan could be good. Their corruption ran far deeper than a handsome appearance. And Aleksander had lived in this world long enough to know this.

The Darkling finally found himself facing the royal couple to bow before them. He handed the box to the attentive queen, then addressed her in a polite tone that perfectly masked his indifference to what convention and his position compelled him to do.

"Your Majesty looks impeccable," he replied, taking her hand in his own gloved one and placing a small kiss on it, internally struggling with revulsion and impatience. "I hope that we, the Ravkans, will prove a worthy nation to rule over us. And that you, my Lady, will shine at our Tsar's side like the most beautiful crown jewel," Aleksander said, straightening up and seeing Tatiana's eyes sparkle at his insincere compliments.

She smiled faintly, her gaze traveling along his figure, then replied, "The General is so gallant. Who would have thought Grisha could be so cultured," she commented, setting the box on a nearby table of gifts. "I might change my mind about Ravka and its people after all. I can't wait to see for myself."

The Shadow Summoner felt the rage welling up inside him, but his smile masked it perfectly. Tatiana Lantsov was already empty and corrupted, so The Black General didn't foresee any improvement for her. If anything, he expected her to worsen.

"We would be honored, my Lady," he replied, then turned to face the young ruler, who was also waiting for his congratulations. He was looking at him appraisingly, a smile curling around the corner of his lips.

"Moi Tsar," Aleksander said to him, bowing to him again. "I hope you will have many heirs to the throne, which I doubt not, since you have made such a beautiful woman your queen," he stated, once again forced into the false politeness of the conventions that bound him.

"Thank you, General," he told him, an unreadable look in his eyes that most likely meant nothing but contempt. Disregard and a desire to prove his superiority over the Grisha leader, even now, when he was just beginning his service to the Crown. "It's a pity you'll never marry, but you know the law." A malice flashed across his face that the young king didn't even try to mask. "But you have to admit, General, that it might be even better that someone like you doesn't have children. Our subjects would start emigrating to neighboring kingdoms, knowing we have more Shadow Summoners here," he joked, but it was neither tactful nor funny.

Aleksander understood that these words were meant to humiliate him and show him that he was a lesser subject. That he was merely a servant with slightly more privileges than other vassals of the monarchy, but in reality, the Tsar still controlled every aspect of his life. He wanted to create a balance of power between them so that the Darkling wouldn't delude himself into thinking he had any say in the matter.

The Black General didn't show any sign of being bothered by this. His eyelids didn't even flicker as he bowed to Pyotr, pretending to take his words as a crude joke, something very typical of court etiquette.

"As you say, moi Tsar," he replied, internally vowing that Ravka would soon see different, better times. Days when the Grisha wouldn't be considered second-class citizens. When they would have the same rights as other subjects.

"Otkazats'ya might not be able to stand it, General," Lantsov added, patting The Shadow Summoner on the shoulder. "That's why it's better for all of us that we don't have to worry about it, isn't it?" he asked, the corner of his mouth curling upward.

Aleksander snapped out of his reverie just as The Apparat was declaring Nikolai and Ehri husband and wife. Applause erupted all around as the Darkling blinked, trying to suppress the wave of revulsion and rage the sight unleashed within him. Another generation, tainted by the disease passed down from father to son, was about to plunge Ravka into slow decline and destruction. The Black General realized that this must have been the last member of the Lantsov family to be allowed to rule, because he was ravaging the land like an incurable disease that could not be eradicated. All this chaos should have ended with Nikolai. But not with his death, but long before the blond ruler could completely destroy everything.

Aleksander watched the newlywed couple standing before the altar, receiving applause from the guests and members of the aristocracy gathered in the throne room. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Makhi Kir-Taban, who wore a stony expression, as if everything unfolding before her eyes were a hoax. She showed no emotion, but for some reason, this struck the Darkling as far more sinister than if she were radiating rage or amusement. Indifference sometimes concealed truths worse than anything else. The Black General knew this well, having employed the aforementioned tactic many times himself.

For now, however, Aleksander promised himself something else. That he would one day stand in the center of the throne room in Os Alta, presenting Alina to the world as his wife. That he would change the law enough to make traditional Grisha weddings a part of Ravkan tradition. That social divisions would be abolished, and his people would receive the same privileges as other inhabitants of the kingdom. That all of Ravka's enemies would tremble as they knelt before Mr. and Mrs. Morozova. And that from now on, they would never again dare to underestimate the power of those they had once experimented on and hunted like animals.

***

Aleksander was sitting at a long table covered with a white tablecloth, clutching Alina's small hand as it rested on the tabletop. A variety of elaborate dishes and drinks were piled before him, while servants were circulating among the guests scattered throughout the dining hall at The Grand Palace, asking if they needed anything.

Alcohol literally flowed from every direction, like a flooded river that had just burst its dams, and some of those gathered were already feeling the effects of its overdose. The Darkling had barely touched the glass of wine poured for him, while his precious girl had chosen a dried fruit compote, but she didn't seem to feel like eating or drinking anything either, as everything seemed artificial and made of paper. Completely tasteless and featureless, all the gold, glitter, and cheapness couldn't mask the corruption hidden within its beautiful packaging.

Aleksander made eye contact with Makhi Kir-Taban, seated opposite him. The deposed ruler of Shu Han was now casually eating roast quail, shunning alcohol despite the constant offerings from royal servants. Members of her guard, the Tavgharad, were standing behind her, keeping a watchful eye on all the guests. Perhaps the Darkling wasn't the only one who distrusted everything happening around him. The former Empress from across the southern border was considered very cunning and cautious, and The Black General knew that, unfortunately, he would have to speak with her soon.

But then someone leaned over him, breathing fumes of still-undigested alcohol.

"Regent Morozova," Nikolai himself spoke to him, clearly tipsy. "I think it would be in good taste if you offered a wedding toast," he said, his lips hovering dangerously close to the Darkling's ear. "It's our tradition for one ruler to wish another all the best. I suppose I don't need to remind you of that. You've been to more than one wedding, after all."

The Darkling recoiled in disgust but kept a straight face.

"Why don't you ask Empress Makhi to offer a toast?" The Shadow Summoner asked Lantsov, waiting for him to release his arm and finally straighten up. "You made her a guest of honor at your wedding ceremony, after all. I think it would be good manners for your wife's sister to wish you all happiness and prosperity, thus emphasizing the importance of the alliance you have forged with Shu Han." Aleksander spoke each word with obvious nonchalance, hoping the blond Tsar wasn't yet so drunk that he couldn't understand what he was trying to convey.

"We certainly don't want to have an enemy in Empress Makhi, right?" Nikolai said to him, straightening slightly. His gaze met with The Black General's, conveying emotions that words couldn't express. "Unlike you, General Morozova, I know how to conduct foreign policy in a way that leads to peace, not war." A sneer appeared on the groom's face as he tried to prove to his interlocutor that he had achieved his goal and that his plans couldn't be thwarted now.

The Darkling narrowed his eyes at him, then gritted his lips, not wanting to attract the attention of any curious guests who might be watching them now.

"You are a fool, Tsar," he stated, his lips still as the next words tumbled out. "And you will pay dearly for this thoughtlessness," he warned him, and Alina squeezed his hand, seemingly having heard their entire conversation.

Lantsov Puppy straightened abruptly, placing his hand to his chest in a theatrical gesture.

"So you don't want to propose my wedding toast, Regent?" he asked, receiving only an icy glare from The Shadow Summoner. "Fine! Because I can handle myself perfectly well." With that, he walked away toward his seat next to Ehri, swaying slightly.

Then he raised his hand, summoning one of the cupbearers hovering nearby. He said something to him, and the man bowed to him, approaching the alcohol table, where a very old bottle of ruby wine was displayed prominently. Aleksander immediately recognized what it was. It was a wine from a special royal collection, opened only for very important occasions. Produced over two centuries ago, only a dozen or so bottles remained. It was kept under lock and key and was worth more than many crown jewels.

The cupbearer went to retrieve the aforementioned drink, approaching the young ruler and allowing him to uncork it himself. Nikolai did so clumsily, but the cork was somehow removed, and Tsar of Ravka was finally able to raise the bottle, loudly asking everyone present in a room for silence. The loud music fell silent, as did all the guests in the banquet hall at The Grand Palace.

Lantsov Puppy motioned to the servant, now standing behind him, to place two empty crystal glasses before him. As he did so, Nikolai exclaimed in a loud voice, "I would like to express my gratitude to all the distinguished guests gathered here for coming in such large numbers! I also thank my beautiful wife for agreeing to unite our countries in unbreakable bonds of friendship and common interests! From this day forward, Ravka and Shu Han will put an end to all differences and look to the future together! And now, let us raise a toast to a new beginning! Cheers, my dear people! May prosperity flow freely like the finest wine from the royal winery!" With that, the blond ruler leaned forward to pour the ruby-colored liquid for himself and Ehri from the precious bottle.

His wife didn't wait for Nikolai to drink his liquor before her, but raised the glass to her lips to taste the beverage that was spoken of worldwide as one of the most closely guarded local secrets. Lantsov Puppy had just managed to sit down next to her when the crystal vessel fell from the new Ravkan Queen's hand, her face turned chalk-white, and she collapsed from the golden chair to the ground, accompanied by terrified cries from all the guests gathered in the banquet hall.

Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:

Notes:

Hello guys 🖤🌺
What can I say? I hope you enjoyed the adult scene, because there will be PROBABLY only one more soon and then the next one will be much, much later (when twins are born) - when I get to late December with my storyline. It is a triggering topic and I don't want to describe it in advanced pregnancy for personal reasons. There has to be a line of good taste I don't want to cross. Hope you understand 🖤
Well, I am curious of your guessing what may happen next? What will happen to Ehri and who is responsible for it? Will Aleksander be made a villain again or maybe the rightful person will be punished? And what about Ilya? How and when Aleksander will find him?
Sorry for Mal cameo xD I know, I know. Still one more to come much later (with adult Mal).
Thank you all for everything 🌺🖤
I wish you all great week,
Ewa

Chapter 12: The Man Who Had to Repair What Was Destroyed

Summary:

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied, refusing to be provoked.

Morozova laced his bony fingers together in front of him, the tips of them touching.

“The war with Shu Han is a formality,” he answered her, without a trace of sadness or regret. His voice, as always, sounded as if it were coming from inside a well. “I tried to slow it down somehow, but the rest will be up to you.”

The Sun Summoner had to admit that this wasn’t what she expected. She felt a pang in her chest, as it always did when she struggled with anxiety.

“Slow down?” she asked, doing her best to control her emotions. “Slow down, but what?”

Ilya stopped moving his fingers. He leaned forward a little in his wheeled chair, then stated, “I was the one who healed the Grisha who were kidnapped by the khergud on the border with Ravka,” he informed Alina, who felt a chill run down her spine. “But now you too know what these winged monsters are, Anmei.”

Notes:

This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤

Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

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Izyslav Ivanov had become renowned among the Ravkan knights as the Black Nemesis. He was perhaps the first shadow summoner after The Black Heretic to return to the royal house in Os Alta and was allowed to assume the position held by his infamous predecessor, who would go down in Ravka's history as its greatest curse, one that could never be erased. It was also clear that if it weren't for the ever-changing wars that ravaged the kingdom, torn in two by a black ribbon of darkness, no one would have sought the aid of a man gifted with powers that inspired equal parts fear and respect.

Fate, however, would have it that the Lantsov dynasty struggled to guard its borders. New warriors continually penetrated the interior not only through impenetrable forests, high mountains, and permafrost, but also by sea, besieging Ravkan from virtually every side. A hundred years after The Shadow Fold had appeared on maps and in the collective consciousness, a distant descendant of The Black Heretic had not only returned to Ravka but was also employed in a similar position to his predecessor. And no one knew the full truth, for time had erased his face from the memories of those who might still remember him. Izyslav Ivanov thus had become someone entirely new, though descended from old blood. Fearsome, yet also a guarantor of peace. The only catch was that the Black Nemesis was not a descendant of the most infamous Shadow Summoner. Instead, he turned out to be none other than him, Aleksander Morozova.

This morning, Grisha Commander of the special faction of Ravka's knighthood had had a bad feeling, and when he had learned he would have to oversee the peaceful conduct of the royal ball, he realized he should expect trouble. His men were treated like dangerous toys and a new whim of Ivan Lantsov. All their neighbors viewed the ruler of Os Alta's ideas with great skepticism, until they realized that having someone with unique abilities to defend their own borders wasn't as extravagant as it might seem. The Grisha became a new weapon and a form of spreading terror. Those who had previously been collectively known as those who healed bodies or repaired objects had suddenly transformed into skilled warriors, a quality none of Ravka's opponents possessed. This realization particularly irritated Fjerda, who had been eyeing Aleksander's homeland since the dawn of time. Now, however, a declaration of war was made after careful consideration. There had to be a clear pretext for such a move, and the Grisha served as a deterrent against their country's enemies. Ivan Lantsov was proud of his idea and even ordered it recorded as a law in the royal chronicles. But this also carried one seemingly insignificant risk. Now that the ruler of Os Alta had his guard dogs, he became even more ignorant and furious. He constantly pushed the limits of his freedom, living beyond his means and feeling unpunished. His balls were nothing more than a display of his own power. And so Izyslav Ivanov was aware of the danger awaiting him at every turn. He was the Black Nemesis, cleaning up the mess Ivan Lantsov so delighted in making. He was the one who prowled the hall during lavish feasts, commanding respect simply by the way he moved and spoke. But it was his powers that commanded the most respect. Everyone feared his shadows and would not want to live to see them force themselves down their throats, consuming not only their bodies and causing them to disintegrate, but also, fragment by fragment, destroying the soul of anyone who dared to do anything that harmed Ravka.

By now, however, the mead and kvass were flowing freely, and all the guests gathered in the great royal dining room had long since lost their composure. Some were dozing with their heads on the table or lying down beneath it, while those who still managed to sit upright were either becoming aggressive or in such a superior mood that they forgot the boundaries of good taste, transforming into animals with human faces.

Aleksander was standing a few steps behind the Tsar, watching Ivan Lantsov clinking wine goblets with the brother of the ruler of Fjerda. The Grimjer dynasty had ruled Djerholm as long as the Ravkan monarchy and had a centuries-old tradition of armed conflicts with Ravka, which occurred so frequently that the chroniclers were busy recording new peace treaties, which sometimes took something from the Lantsovs, sometimes gave it to them.

Ever since the Darkling returned to defend his homeland as Izyslav Ivanov, he had been constantly preparing for a new war. The situation had become so tense that it kept Aleksander awake at night. Every time he himself strengthened the defenses of the northern border, warning the Fjerdans to think twice before attacking them, their Tsar would launch another provocation, jeopardizing all his efforts. Even this feast, ostensibly held to finally celebrate the agreement between the Ravkan and Fjerdan merchant guilds, devolved into chaos and the nightmare of The Shadow Summoner. Especially since Ivan Lantsov possessed a fiery nature, which, combined with Siegfried Grimjer's similar temperament, created an explosive mixture that could only have one purpose: explosion.

"Take it back!" the Ravkan ruler suddenly shouted, leaping from the high chair at the head of the long oak table he was sitting at and shaking his fists at Siegfried, who was seated next to him.

Fjerdan magnate also rose from his seat and, barely able to stay on his feet, looked as if he intended to lunge for Ivan's throat. He even grabbed a sword from the table and, with a shaking hand, swung it at Tsar Ravka's chest.

"Over my dead body, you lying bastard! Go to hell, you madman!" a member of the royal Grimjer family screamed, finally attracting the attention of those among the feast guests who weren't yet drunk enough to understand the scene they were witnessing. "You dare insult my sister? Die, you devil's spawn!" With that, Siegfried swung his blade at Ivan, who somehow managed to dodge and, grabbing a sword from the table, thrust it forward, piercing the chainmail covering the Fjerdan emissary's chest.

Aleksander Morozova literally froze in place, paralyzed by the consequences of his action. It didn't matter that his opponent had attacked the King of Ravka first, because the Grimjers wouldn't question it. They had long sought a new pretext for an invasion by sea, and now they had one. And when those of the guests who weren't yet staggering began to leap from their chairs, shouting about treason, the Darkling realized he had little time to act.

"Bring the king out of here!" he shouted to the men-at-arms staggering against the walls. His Grisha, positioned in several places around the hall, immediately rushed toward their commander, seemingly the only fully sober people among the feasters. "Heartrenders and Etherealki, come to me!"

The royal guards suddenly surrounded the Tsar, who was suddenly aware of their actions, isolating him from the Fjerdan guests, who began to grab their weapons, threatening the Ravkans, who returned the favor and also tugged at the weapons slung at their belts, ready to respond just as bloodily as Ivan had.

"This means war!" shouted one of Siegfried's entourage, hurling a goblet of half-drunk wine to the ground and causing a crash.

"Hands off the king!" One of Ivan's advisors shouted back, turning back on unsteady legs and making eye contact with Aleksander. "Or we'll set our wolf on you, and you'll regret it!" he hissed, once again facing the Fjerdan, who had somehow managed to force his companions to rise from their seats and begin pushing toward the Ravkan section of the revelers.

The Darkling felt rage well up inside him at being called an animal. That was what those like him were to all otkazats'ya. No matter how much they served their country or how much they did to protect it, they always remained an anomaly – something necessary when other methods available to mortals failed. Something that inspired disgust, fear, but could become useful if tamed. Izyslav Ivanov became the Black Nemesis because he preferred to see his people as powerful and feared, rather than hunted like rats and persecuted like inferior beings. Someday, soon, Aleksander would build their safe haven for the Grisha. But now he had to build their reputation brick by brick, and even if he was called a wolf, he would accept it as he endured everything else. For his persecuted protégés. For Ravka.

The Shadow Summoner could simply have allowed the Fjerdans to tear Ivan Lantsov to pieces, as he deserved. But what benefit would he gain from this, other than the outbreak of a new war he had no way of winning? With these weak knights and empty treasuries? With only himself and his men on the front lines?

That's why Aleksander Morozova did what he had to. He had saved the day again, as he had done so many times when he guarded his homeland like a wolf to its pack.

He moved forward, dragging his shadows with him. The light in the dining hall dimmed, and everyone gathered there – though intoxicated by mead, wine, and kvass – turned toward him with terror etched on their faces.

"The Black Nemesis!" cried one of Siegfried Grimjer's entourage, taking a staggering step back and hitting a chair before tumbling to the ground.

Others began to panic and throw their weapons to the ground. Some even raised their hands to shield their faces, as if hoping that this would somehow protect them from what was about to come.

Izyslav Ivanov smiled, knowing what he had to do. Then he clapped his hands, and darkness enveloped everything.

The Black General snapped out of his reverie, realizing he'd instinctively shielded Alina, who was standing behind him, with her hand covering her mouth. People began running in all directions, the music stopped, and the guards and soldiers of The First Army tried to control it, pushing the wedding guests back to the center of the hall to limit their ability to scatter. Others were screaming, but Aleksander, seasoned in commanding soldiers on the battlefield, was able to tune out such sounds to assess the situation effectively.

He glanced around, spotting members of his squad. The Heartrenders and several Etherealki seemed alerted, taking up a fighting stance, ready to intervene quickly. The Darkling gestured for them to hold back for now and await his further instructions. The man turned his head toward the guests from Shu Han, noticing Makhi Kir-Taban leaping from her chair, murder in her eyes. The Tavgharad warriors drew their katanas from the sword sheaths hanging from their belts, enclosing their queen in a protective circle and preventing anyone from approaching her. It looked as if the dethroned ruler was about to lunge toward her sister, but her bodyguards remained steadfast, clearly not considering it a good idea.

The Black General then turned his attention to the young Tsar. Nikolai was chalky pale and clearly in the midst of a nervous breakdown, pacing in circles behind the chair Ehri had slumped into, completely losing control. He looked like he was about to cry, and perhaps only terror still held him in check, as he barely managed to stay on his feet, his fingers clawing at his hair. Then he began screaming at the top of his lungs, calling for medics.

Aleksander gritted his teeth at this poor performance. A head of state should always maintain a cool head. This was contagious and became a source of chaos. Unfortunately, Lantsov Puppy couldn't rise to the occasion. All he had to do was approach the right person. The Darkling would have then ordered his Healers sent for, but now he had to deal with bringing this mess under control before it spiraled out of control.

The Black General realized he had to step into his role. Moreover, in the event that the ruler granting him regency was unable to fulfill his duties, he was legally obligated to act in Ravka's best interests. And that was precisely why he had to show everyone gathered that someone in Os Alta still held authority, and that this was no joke, as long as he was in control.

Aleksander turned to the nearest Heartrender, whom he knew by name due to his service in the war with Fjerda. He nodded to him, waiting for the man to approach him, and when he did, pushing through the crowd, he ordered, "Mikhail, gather some of your men and keep an eye on Miss Starkov. Don't let a single hair fall from her head, do you understand?" Alina, standing next to him, started to protest, but the Darkling grabbed her hand and squeezed it lightly in a comforting gesture. "Don't leave the hall. Your Sankta stay where she is, but I don't want to hear about anyone approaching her uninvited!" he ordered, to which his Corporalki nodded, motioning for two other Heartrenders to join him.

Nikolai continued to wander aimlessly around the medics bent over his wife, tearing his hair out and muttering under his breath. Aleksander realized he couldn't delay any longer. This was not only a political scandal, but the beginning of a new war. And the only thing he could do now was slow it down somehow.

The Black General looked his precious girl intensely in the eyes, then said, "Stay here, milaya. I'll deal with the chaos here and then I'll personally escort you to The Little Palace," he assured her, reaching for her cheek to rest his hand on it for a moment.

But Alina looked as if she wanted to protest. Terror mingled with quiet defiance in her eyes, but the Darkling couldn't yield to her on this matter. He was now responsible not only for her – which was reason enough to try to protect her – but for his entire family.

"But Sasha…" she began, and he shook his head.

"Alya, it's unclear what exactly happened, or whether the assassin is among the guests. It could have been planned in advance, or it could have happened during the wedding reception. Therefore, forgive me, but you'll be safer here. Besides, we don't want to attract attention, as I'm sure some of the diplomats will try to pin the blame on me," Aleksander stated, his Sun Summoner's eyes widening in shock. "But I'll deal with them very quickly, milaya. Therefore, please stay here and wait for me to escort you to The Little Palace," he asked.

She bit her lower lip and nodded, finally sinking into a chair and allowing the Corporalki to stand nearby, discreetly blocking the entrance.

The Darkling glanced around, then strode purposefully toward the main wedding table, knowing that from there he had a view of the entire banquet hall, and if he was to control this mess, he needed to be in the best possible position. The Shadow Summoner clapped his hands, just as he had done nearly two years earlier during the Winter Fete. This time, however, he took care not to plunge the vast room into complete darkness, but rather a dimness that would attract the attention of everyone gathered here. The lights dimmed noticeably, but not completely. The people running in panic froze in place, turning their heads toward the Darkling. They recognized him immediately, for the new Regent of West Ravka was whispered about in courts across the world. Those who still looked as if they were about to flee again were meanwhile barred from all doors leading outside the banquet hall by the royal guards.

Aleksander stepped forward, ignoring Nikolai, who had sobered somewhat, looking at the Black General with fear and surprise.

"Esteemed guests!" he shouted, drawing the attention of terrified aristocrats and diplomats from around the world. "Please return to your seats! No one will leave until we have restored at least a minimum of order and ensured there are no assassins among us! Please follow the instructions of my Grisha; they will check that each of you is safe!" the Darkling called out in a confident, decisive voice, glancing around. "If any of you attempt to leave despite my warning, you will be apprehended and placed under arrest, so I advise you to follow my instructions! Now, as I said, please each of you find your seat. My Healers will check each of you in turn to make sure nothing is ailing you!" he ordered the wedding guests, waiting a moment longer as they began to return to their seats, and only then did he spot the commander of the guards, who was standing next to Nikolai.

He approached him, seeing that Lantsov Puppy might soon make things even worse, and ordered him, “Please escort the Tsar to his private quarters and examine him thoroughly. When I'm finished here, I'll send my Healers to him. It's possible the King was also poisoned, but it was a small dose or a different type of poison, which was slow-release. Our ruler is now unable to fulfill his duties, therefore, for the good of everyone, especially himself and his reputation, care must be taken to remove him from here, is that understood?" The Darkling narrowed his eyes, and the guard flinched slightly, but he nodded obediently and left to gather an escort to escort Nikolai to his chambers.

And then the Black General moved toward the medics still hunched over Ehri's livid face, speaking to them firmly, "Now, you will make way for my Healer, so he can assess whether the new Tsaritsa still has a chance of being saved. You will work together and respect his opinion; otherwise, you should try to find a new profession," he warned them.

One of the young men checking the pulse of the now-flat-on-the-ground ruler of Shu Han raised his hands in a gesture of humility, to which Aleksander gave him a further dubious look. He held his palms in front of him, lightly rubbing them together.

The lights flared up again, revealing that the guests gathered in the banquet hall had largely complied with the Darkling's instructions. This calmed him somewhat, but still didn't reveal the perpetrator of this entire incident, though he had his suspicions. And one of his main theories decided to confront him herself, surrounded by her twelve female warriors as escort.

The Black General looked into the eyes of a tall woman with raven-black hair, high cheekbones, and a gaze so cold it could pierce one's soul and turn it to icicles. Makhi Kir-Taban was now only a few steps away from Aleksander, yet one could get the impression she was in charge. The rage and dominance radiating from her could compel those taken to silence and respect her will. But the dethroned Empress had forgotten who she was up against. And that if she had chosen someone like the Regent of West Ravka as her opponent, she had to accept that sooner or later she would lose.

"General Morozova," Makhi said, stepping forward slightly but never left behind by her warriors.

"I demand justice and access to the body of my unconscious sister," she replied, her head held high with pride and clear prejudice, as if any contact with the Ravkan, or – moreover – the Grisha, had cost her an incredible mental strain.

The Darkling stepped forward, needing no guards to not only protect him but to lend him authority. He was his own hallmark. His fame preceded him far beyond his physical presence. He also knew that the former ruler of Shu might desire power and want to regain what she had lost as quickly as possible, but not in such an ostentatious manner and not in front of all those foreign diplomats. She proved too calculating and cunning for that. She also possessed a high intelligence, and The Shadow Summoner didn't need much contact with her to immediately know that.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Aleksander replied, keeping his face impassive. "But you are a guest here and must abide by the rules that apply to all guests from now on, which means you will be confined to your guest chamber until the matter is resolved," he replied, showing her that his decision was final.

Makhi Kir-Taban narrowed her eyes at him.

"Do you know this is treason, General Morozova?" she remarked, her voice icy and devoid of emotion, especially for someone whose sister had most likely been killed.

"No, it's concern for your safety, Your Highness," the Darkling remarked, playing a game with the ruler of Shu Han – the game in which each of them knew the rules and knew that everything was built on illusion and lies.

"I demand that my arguments be heard and considered," The Black General warned his interlocutor.

But he knew better than to act rashly. And that Nikolai was in no condition to speak to anyone right now. He needed the Healers' help and soothing herbs to regain his composure.

"Your Majesty will be granted an audience tomorrow," the Darkling stated, his voice as icy as Makhi's. "Now, please allow my Healers to examine you for potential poisoning or other ailments."

The former Empress of Shu widened her eyes in obvious disgust.

"None of these perverted monsters will touch me," she gritted, tilting her head slightly upward.

Aleksander didn't even flinch. He nodded at the Healer examining Ehri and motioned for him to stand and approach him.

"Please examine Queen Makhi, then escort her to her chamber," he ordered, seeing shock and rage spread across her pale face, twisting her aristocratic features hideously. "Your Majesty," The Black General said directly to her. "Here is Ravka, and there our law applies. Please do not resist, for I will assume you have some ulterior motive for staying here," he commented, not allowing his eyelids to flinch.

And then something on the beautiful ruler's face changed irrevocably. That calculating demeanor lost all its veneer of concern, transforming into pure hatred and determination.

And that was the moment. The time when Aleksander Morozova became absolutely certain that war was inevitable, and the sands in the hourglass began to run dry.

***

Alina couldn't possibly describe what she felt as Aleksander was leading her toward The Little Palace, allowing her to hide beneath his long, ceremonial cloak. She hadn't felt so small and fragile in a long time, and she had to admit that despite everything she'd been through since realizing she was Grisha, today had become a gateway to a nightmare that never truly ended. Neither the gradually regained memories of her childhood, nor everything that had befallen her since her light had shone within the Shadow Fold like a ray of new hope for Ravka, could shake her as much as the realization that her happiness was once again threatened. That her children would not be born in a free land, but in a reality shaped by war.

In that brief moment, Alina hated Nikolai more than she cared to admit. Her disappointment in discovering the truth about Mal's intentions, or Zoya's subsequent misdeeds, hadn't moved her as much as the thought that her past choices might have re-ignited a cascade of events that had their origins in what she herself had almost destroyed. Looking back, she couldn't even recognize herself. Who was this naive, manipulative, and stubborn person who had thought they had mastered all reason and could be equal to someone who had led the fight for independence for centuries? Where was this person who had thought that because they had been gifted with extraordinary powers, they shouldn't listen to advice, because their exceptional nature could explain everything, including their inexperience and stupidity? Where was this person who had made poor choices only to seek revenge? To satisfy their own ego, which had turned out to be bigger than the fight for independence? Yes. Alina was still ashamed of that person. Of that person who had perhaps contributed to Nikolai's rise to power. If she hadn't joined forces with him, would he have become king? Hadn't his engagement to The Sun Summoner bought him a throne that never truly belonged to him?

Hiding beneath Aleksander's cloak, the future queen of Ravka was literally shivering. Not only from the late September chill that had finally arrived in her homeland, but from the realization that everything that happened in her life was, in some way, a consequence of her choices. Ilya Morozova could have planned her existence – from beginning to end. But she had completely strayed from the path of her destiny and almost squandered more than just her own future. And now her children, whose births were inherently fraught with risk, were about to be born into the reality Nikolai Lantsov had brought to Ravka. And Alina hated him with all her heart for it. But she also couldn't accept that she had so strongly encouraged him on his path to power. Perhaps this whole new chaos is her fault too? Perhaps if she hadn't been blinded by her self-inflicted hatred and blind devotion to Mal, The Black General would have long ago become the new Tsar?

Aleksander was holding her hand, which was clasped around his elbow, as his precious girl snuggled against his forearm. All the images they passed along the way blurred together, and she would normally have allowed herself to pay attention to the details surrounding her, but now she just wanted to hide in his embrace and wake up two and a half years earlier, when the Darkling had asked her who she was. Unfortunately, puberty wasn't just about physical changes. It was above all about the mental and moral readiness to look at one's mistakes and finally admit them.

When Aleksander finally turned the handle of the door leading to his former quarters, Alina barely noticed. She also didn't realize how many oprichniki had accompanied them on the way to The Little Palace, or that The Shadow Summoner had also brought a Heartrender with him, to provide additional protection in case anyone tried to break in. The Black General turned to his men, ignoring the fact that his precious girl was still clinging to him.

He glanced around his guards and then said, "No one except myself and those I authorize is allowed inside my former quarters, is that understood?" Aleksander's tone left no room for argument. "An assassin has struck the new royal wife, and until it is determined who is responsible, you are not to leave your post unless I relieve you of this position or send you a replacement. Get to work!" he ordered, wrapping his arm around Alina and pulling her closer.

His men obediently bowed to him and positioned themselves at several strategic points in the corridor. The Black General assessed the security situation with a quick glance and entered the war room, leading his Sun Summoner immediately towards the bedroom. Only when they reached it did he sit her on the edge of the bed, stripping off his ceremonial cloak and draping it over the back of a nearby chair.

Alina watched him, hands folded in her lap. The Darkling walked wordlessly to the window, then placed both hands on the sill, staring into the darkness. Seconds passed, and he resembled a statue, completely absorbed in his own thoughts. The girl realized that her anxiety had spread through her whole body. All her energy began to drain, and she felt as if she were about to faint. However, she hid it as best she could, not wanting to alarm The Black General.

So she decided that maybe a conversation would distract her. Perhaps it would dispel some of her doubts, thus restoring her peace of mind.

"Sasha?" she asked Aleksander, who still had his back to her, but when he heard her voice, he stiffened slightly, then turned to her, carefully studying her face. "Do you have any theory about what happened back there?" Even though a wave of nausea washed over her and her weakness nearly brought her to the point of fainting, The Sun Summoner realized she shouldn't add to the Darkling's stress.

Her children became hyperactive, throwing one kick after another at her, but at least it kept her from losing consciousness. The girl gripped the edge of the bed, seeing the Black General's anxiety. After a moment, however, Aleksander approached her and sat down beside her.

"Yes, of course I do," he told her, meeting her eyes from a short distance. "There are really only two possibilities. Either someone from Os Alta is trying to dethrone Nikolai, or someone from Shu did it. The third, least likely version is that Fjerda or another power bent on weakening us did it. I'm leaning towards the second theory," he stated, not hiding or embellishing anything, as the matter was too serious for that.

Alina shuddered slightly, her head spinning. But she said nothing, even though the Darkling was staring intently at her. Besides, he was also distracted, which undoubtedly gave his precious girl a bit more freedom to mask her state than usual.

"Why?" she asked him, knowing that if Aleksander said so, he certainly had reason to.

"Because in the first case, they would also have to eliminate me, which, as you know, milaya, isn't that easy." The Black General smiled, which calmed Alina slightly, because she was as always worried about him. "Because now, by law, in the event of Lantsov Puppy's death or dethronement, the crown belongs to me. The last option, on the other hand, is unlikely due to the risk of armed conflict not only with Ravka but also with Shu Han. Our southern neighbors are the ones benefiting the most from this whole mess. It's a gigantic political scandal, and that idiot Nikolai fell into the trap laid for him like a naive child." The Darkling's expression grew serious again, and Alina allowed him a moment to pause to consider what he'd just told her.

But then she asked, "But killing your own heir to the throne? Who would sacrifice the head of their state in such a way?"

Aleksander frowned, for only one possibility came to mind.

"In my opinion, whoever benefits from this death," he said casually, adding nothing.

His precious girl sidestepped the matter, finally asking the question that had been nagging at her since she and The Black General had left the banquet hall at The Grand Palace.

"Sasha, so the war can no longer be stopped, right?" she whispered quietly, twisting her fingers, which were intertwined in her lap.

The Darkling looked at her with concern, and then without warning, reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I'd like to believe that's possible, milaya," he told her, and though his voice held a certain calmness, there was also a hint of concern hidden beneath. "But unfortunately, Lantsov Puppy has made such a mess that we probably won't be able to clean it up without having to face our enemies." And then Aleksander seemed to remember something. He began to carefully study his precious girl's face, searching for any disturbing signs. "How are you feeling, Alina?" he asked, and she felt as if his gaze had bored into her soul, dissecting it into tiny pieces. "Although Ehri Kir-Taban felt the effects of the poisoning very quickly, that doesn't have to always be the case. It could be a slow-release poison. Therefore, if anything is bothering you or you feel different than usual, you must tell me."

His precious girl could see how concerned the Darkling was. So she summoned all her strength and freed one of her hands from his to reach for his face.

"I'm fine, Sasha," she assured him, forcing a smile. "Don't worry about me. You have a lot on your mind already."

But he shook his head.

"No, Alya. I'll have Genya brought here to examine you," he told her, and though it sounded like a simple gesture of concern, she understood that she couldn't count on being able to oppose him. "And you are not to leave our quarters until I'm sure it's safe." A fire burned in his eyes, suggesting the matter was beyond dispute.

"Aleksander..." She wanted to protest, but the Darkling shook his head slightly.

"The situation is very tense, milaya," he told her, looking her in the eyes again, intensely. "You could bring unnecessary attention to yourself. You're one of the two most powerful Grisha alive, and don't ever doubt it. But now you're expecting my children, and you're not just endangering yourself, but three of you." A flicker of tenderness flashed in his eyes for a moment, but it was quickly replaced by irritation and rage at the fools who had once again ruined everything he had tried to build. "All that remains for us is to investigate this matter and bring those responsible to justice. Unfortunately, war is practically inevitable, as a member of the Shu royal family was killed on our territory, and in a very ambiguous manner. The only thing we can do is delay it as long as possible. Our southern neighbors won't be able to attack us before winter, and wars aren't declared during this time of year. Therefore, we have until around the end of February to accelerate our armament and search for the perpetrators," the Darkling explained to her, also releasing her hand, which he still was holding in her lap, and touching her cheek.

The Sun Summoner's mind began to work at double speed, even as she felt as if she were falling apart from within. Her children would be born before everything truly fell apart. Aleksander would likely have to go to the front, leaving her alone with the infants. Useless and fearing for his life. Distraught and lonely, and praying to the Saints for his swift return. Alina Starkov had never been one to wallow in self-pity. Even in the past, as she had committed one foolish act after another, she moved briskly forward, accepting what she had brought upon herself. But now she was entering a new phase of life that thrilled and terrified her in equal measure. Could she ever be a good mother? Was that even possible in a world shaped by war?

"Aleksander," his precious girl whispered to the Darkling. "You deserve someone who would stand beside you. You cannot do this on your own." Tears of helplessness and guilt glistened in her eyes.

But The Black General merely touched his forehead to hers and said, "It's enough that I feel I'm not alone," he assured her, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "I don't need your physical presence to know you're there. Lantsov Puppy made a terrible mess, and I have no choice but to deal with it. Don't leave our quarters, milaya. I won't find peace knowing you did something like this. I need to be fully focused. Do this for me. Just this one time," he pleaded, and his voice held no demand this time, but rather concern and fear. "And if you can't do it for me, then do it for them."

Alina swallowed back her tears and simply nodded. She wasn't one to sit idly by. Being useless was becoming her greatest punishment. But there was no denying that Aleksander was right. He didn't mean to suppress her, when he was the only one who had always seen her potential. But rather that senseless risks always had consequences. And The Sun Summoner had proven time and again that she not only took foolish risks but also lacked the experience to correct the mistakes she made.

"I'll send Genya to you, milaya," Aleksander said after a moment, then removed his hand from her cheek to reluctantly get out of bed. "The guards will let her in, so don't worry. I'll return as soon as I can." With that, The Black General leaned down to kiss her briefly, then glanced at her one last time and hurriedly left the war room.

The future queen of Ravka lowered her arms to her sides again, placing them on the bed. Her head was literally spinning, and she could barely keep her balance. Anxiety had unleashed a familiar power within her, one that had become part of her, born from something far from ordinary. Her children had taken control of her body, drowning out her and all her emotions. In moments like this, Alina understood that these would be no ordinary twins. That neither she nor the Darkling would be able to comprehend what had been born of their closeness. That she and the Black General would truly change the world, as Aleksander had once promised her. But they would do it with their help. Because their children would be something neither Ravka nor anyone else had ever seen. And the more they grew within her, becoming stronger, the more The Sun Summoner faded, overshadowed by their power. But it was enough that she would have to keep her strength only for a very short time. And if she endured this, she would receive the greatest reward possible. She would embrace her twins and thank The Making for giving her another chance to make things right.

But now, in this very moment, Alina didn't believe she could endure it all. She buried her face in her hands, trying to listen to her inner voice and thus find what strength she had left. She closed her eyes and began to breathe deeply. She did this for a while, thinking she was starting to feel better. Until finally, she realized that something had changed. That there had been a slight, barely perceptible difference, manifested in the way the air around her began to stir.

And then the future queen of Ravka opened her eyes. She immediately regretted her decision when she saw who was sitting across from her in his wheelchair. This time, however, they weren't in a room overlooking a sea cliff. They were both still in Aleksander's former quarters, and the place looked exactly the same as always, except that its peace was disturbed by the presence of Ilya Morozova.

"You feel like time is slipping away, Anmei," he told her, tilting his hooded head at her. She was immediately struck by the sight of his sunken cheeks and dark circles under his eyes.

This time, however, Alina proved wiser than in any of their previous encounters. She didn't try to escape, knowing it was impossible. She decided to confront Aleksander's grandfather, showing him that he wouldn't break her so easily.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied, refusing to be provoked.

Morozova laced his bony fingers together in front of him, the tips of them touching.

“The war with Shu Han is a formality,” he answered her, without a trace of sadness or regret. His voice, as always, sounded as if it were coming from inside a well. “I tried to slow it down somehow, but the rest will be up to you.”

The Sun Summoner had to admit that this wasn’t what she expected. She felt a pang in her chest, as it always did when she struggled with anxiety.

“Slow down?” she asked, doing her best to control her emotions. “Slow down, but what?”

Ilya stopped moving his fingers. He leaned forward a little in his wheeled chair, then stated, “I was the one who healed the Grisha who were kidnapped by the khergud on the border with Ravka,” he informed Alina, who felt a chill run down her spine. “But now you too know what these winged monsters are, Anmei.”

The future queen of Ravka stiffened slightly, as she once again found herself a mere puppet in the hands of a madman. Aleksander suspected someone was responsible for the disappearances and subsequent memory erasure, but neither of them suspected it was his ancestor's doing. When The Black General learned of this, he would surely have to face his own demons again. And there was no avoiding it, as the matter had just morphed from a family conflict into a national issue.

"Who's creating them?" Alina asked, not even considering why she'd asked such a question. Something simply pushed her to do it. And it was her inner voice.

Ilya looked at her from beneath his hood, intertwining his fingers in front of him again.

“Khergud are created by Fabrikators exposed to a drug called jurda parem. That's why the creators of the entire program were so displeased that you discovered an antidote to this drug in Ravka. It shouldn't surprise you, then, that they'll be determined to stop you. And kill those who know the formula that reverses the effects of jurda," Morozova stated, completely dispassionate, as if he were speaking of common knowledge.

Alina felt a lump in her throat. Did this mean that Kuwei and David's lives were in danger?

"How could you know about this…" The Sun Summoner whispered to herself, but for someone who remembered times from ancient prehistory, the Darkling's ancestor had excellent hearing.

"Have you by any chance lost any samples of the antidote?" Ilya asked, leaning forward slightly in his chair.

"How could you possibly know about this?" The future queen of Ravka couldn't believe what was happening around her. "Did you have a hand in this?" she accused Morozova, which only made his thin lips stretch into a ghostly smile.

"Don't forget, I have a connection to you and your children, Anmei," he informed her, cocking his head to the side. "I know all your thoughts and everything that arises in your mind. Just like now. I feel how afraid you are, my dear child. For your future family and for my grandson. And that's why I don't advise you to ignore me, Anmei. If you wish to carry this pregnancy to term, you will find me." The words of the ancestor of The Black General proved not only cruel, but utterly devoid of emotion. "Besides, you also have no guarantee that Aleksander won't have another attack. And that this time, it won't be the final one."

Alina couldn't imagine anyone being so cruel. No wonder Baghra had been so deeply saturated with this corruption. It didn't excuse her in the slightest, but at least it explained the source of her wickedness. It was a miracle that Aleksander had somehow managed to break this pattern. He was a rebel with a vision and an unwavering will. And perhaps that was the only thing that saved him, preventing his selfishness from destroying him like it had the rest of his family.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked Ilya, tears welling in her eyes. She felt frustrated and helpless. It was as if nothing in her life had turned out as she had expected.

"You have about two more months, Anmei, to decide what to do," Morozov replied evasively. "If you want to survive your own birth and not have it premature, you will find me," he warned her, reaching for his hood to pull it over his eyes.

The Sun Summoner gripped the edge of the bed, finally fighting back tears.

"How do I do this?" she asked, though she wasn't even sure she would get an answer.

"My grandson knows how to do it," Ilya told her, fishing a rune from the pocket of his robe and clutching it in his bony fingers. "He just needs to look for it in his memories," the ancestor of Aleksander announced, then broke the object in her hands with a dull crack.

Alina's eyes widened, drenched in sweat. Her breathing quickened, and she felt fear creep into her blood like an icy stream. But one thing immediately surprised her. She noticed that her children had calmed down, as if the disappearance of the ancestor of The Black General had contributed to this. The girl realized she wasn't safe. That something was truly threatening her, and perhaps this had been Ilya's plan all along. This man was prying into her thoughts and knew them all. As long as The Sun Summoner carried Morozova's twins in her womb, she couldn't hope to escape him. This man's threats seemed inevitable, long preordained. So, would her children truly be born prematurely? Could she herself have died during childbirth? And could Aleksander have fallen victim to an attack of merzost that the future queen of Ravka could no longer reverse?

Alina found salty drops still dripping down her cheeks. She was so lost in her fear and despair that she didn't even realize it until someone placed their hands on her shoulders and began to gently shake them.

"Alina! Alina, are you alright?" the person said, the emotion evident in their voice.

The Sun Summoner looked up, meeting the worried eyes of her red-haired friend.

"Oh, Genya," she sighed, and hugged The Tailor tightly.

***

Aleksander once again was sitting in the hunting room that had belonged to generations of Ravkan Tsars who had ascended to the throne, rhythmically tapping his fingers on the tabletop in anticipation of the meeting he himself had planned. The sooner this situation was resolved, the greater the chance of limiting the negative consequences of what had happened the day before, which had resulted in the new Queen's death. Even the most skilled Healers had been unable to remedy the poison that had dissolved Ehri Kir-Taban's organs. Her death had been swift, but it had been excruciatingly painful. The damage to her body had proved too extensive, affecting too many organs simultaneously, to bring the new royal wife back to life and health.

The Black General knew that war was now beyond prevention, but he needed to firmly state his position. The likelihood that the Ravkan side was responsible for this unfortunate incident proved very slim, considering who would inherit the throne in the event of Nikolai's dethronement. Besides, Shu had much more to gain from unleashing chaos on its neighbors, as Ravka was still struggling to rebuild after the war with Fjerda, which had ended a few months earlier. The likelihood that the Djerholm authorities had come up with this idea was slim to none, given the high reparations still being paid. A new conflict would mean further investments, and the Fjerdans were unlikely to be able to afford them at the moment. Shu Han, on the other hand, could be looking for an excuse to seize something they had long coveted. While Leyti Kir-Taban certainly wouldn't sacrifice her own granddaughter, whom she had anointed as the future Empress, there was someone who stood to gain from Ehri's death. And that was her own sister, Makhi, who was still struggling with the humiliation of having to relinquish the throne to her grandmother. The former queen was renowned for her ruthlessness and cruelty. She was also determined to implement her vision of a world in which the Grisha and their abilities would become a source of new power if only their essence could be uncovered. The people of Shu had always coveted them, and therefore hated them. Therefore, they experimented on anyone who possessed this gift, trying to uncover the secret behind their abilities. Makhi Kir-Taban had strong imperialistic ambitions, and no blood ties would stop her. Aleksander would bet that it was her doing. Unfortunately, no clear evidence of her involvement had yet been found. Therefore, for now, it was necessary to establish the rules of this political game so that the Ravkan side would dictate its terms.

The Black General was staring at the fire crackling in the fireplace across from him. He didn't even try to deny that once again, the entire responsibility rested squarely on him. Alina shouldn't have gotten involved now, as her pregnancy progressed, and as each day closer to delivery seemed like a little miracle. But the knowledge that fate had once again challenged him drew The Shadow Summoner's thoughts back to one of the tests his mother had subjected him to centuries earlier.

According to Baghra, it had been a kind of baptism of fire, during which her fifteen-year-old son would learn to cope with threats on his own. These events never faded from his memory, because despite their cruelty, they had indeed served their purpose. Like all the other traumatic images from his childhood, this one proved to be the one that dispelled all the illusions of the teenage Darkling. The belief that more than just the Grisha might have wanted to kill him, though this time not for his bones. The belief that the sinister tales of the otkazats’ya, who hated them, that his mother had told him at bedtime when he had been very young were indeed true. And it was one that sowed in the victim of persecution a desire for revenge and resentment towards those who had wronged him.

Aleksander was sitting in a small roadside inn, rolling a copper coin across the oak table he was currently gazing at, from one hand to the other. Baghra had left him there only minutes earlier, intending to find someone who would take them to Os Alta for a small fee. Wagons carrying hunting and craft goods would soon depart from this small mountain village on the border of Ravka and Shu Han, bound for the capital for the annual fair held in the east of the country, where not only hunters tried to sell beaver fat, hides, and bone goods, but even residents of the coast of The True Sea flocked to showcase the amber jewelry so coveted by the royal court.

Aleksander was left alone in the inn, hunched in his seat by the window. Baghra had given him a single copper coin in case the innkeeper finally grew impatient with him and asked him to order something. The boy wore ordinary dark traveling clothes, concealing a long dagger beneath his long tunic. His mother had forbidden him from attracting attention and ordered him to use his powers only as a last resort. She had told him, however, that she would return soon, as she had only gone to the other side of the village to negotiate with the merchants about the price of transporting them in her wagons to Os Alta.

But Aleksander couldn't shake the foreboding feeling. He felt the curious eyes of the innkeeper and several guests at the inn. Despite his stubbornly blending in, his presence finally began to arouse suspicion.

Suddenly, someone approached him, their footsteps so quiet that the inn's floorboards creaked only when they stopped right in front of him. Aleksander cautiously raised his gaze, spotting a fifteen-year-old girl dressed in a simple dark dress with a white apron, with which she was draining a brass tankard. She was very pretty and tall for her age. Her auburn hair was gathered in two thick braids, tied at the bottom with black straps. She had large blue eyes and a pale complexion. Her face was dotted with small freckles, concentrating around her small, slightly upturned nose.

The boy realized that the stranger had approached his table specifically for his sake.

She sat down beside him, placing the brass vessel on the table, and then said, "My father would like to know if he should bring you something to eat, since you've been sitting here for a long time and haven't ordered anything yet." With that, she smiled innocently at him, adding, "My name is Yelena, and my father is the innkeeper here."

Aleksander hesitated, noticing her openness, which immediately brought back unwanted images to his mind. Red hair transformed into Annika's blond curls, who had also pretended to like him only to try to kill him. She had exploited his desire for a relationship only to break him. And now the innkeeper's daughter was also showing her affection, with the slight difference that she wasn't Grisha, but an otkazats'ya.

The boy knew that even if Yelena touched him, nothing would happen. She wouldn't sense his power and wouldn't want to take it away from him. He was in no danger from her, or so logic told him. As long as he didn't reveal his abilities, he would be safe.

"My name is Oleg," he told her cautiously, noticing that the girl was watching him intently. "You can tell your father I'll have a bowl of venison stew."

But Yelena still didn't rise from the table to give the innkeeper his order. She studied his face very carefully, before her gaze fell on something peeking out from beneath the traveling cloak Aleksander wore. The boy felt uneasy, for it was his mother's most prized possession and something Baghra had ordered him to guard at the cost of his life.

"What are you hiding there?" the pretty brunette finally asked him, refusing to be deterred and staring at Ilya Morozova's journal. His mother hadn't told him how she had come into possession of it, and her son had never met his grandfather, but he knew how he died and what he was famous for. It was him and the curse he had brought upon them that were one of the reasons he and Baghra were constantly on the run. "We rarely see books here, let alone ones with gilded bindings." Her hand reflexively shot across the table, trying to wrest his property from Aleksander.

But he dodged, instinctively tucking the volume under his cloak.

"Forgive me, this belongs to my mother," he replied, smiling slightly.

But something akin to resentment appeared in Yelena's eyes. A flush rose to her pale cheeks, and she looked as if she had every right to covet things that weren't hers at all. She looked at him for a moment, blushing ever deeper, before finally leaping violently from her seat.

"I'm sorry..." Aleksander tried to apologize, but she didn't even let him finish his sentence.

She began screaming at the entire inn as if she were being flayed.

"Help!" the dark-haired girl lamented, though she was perfectly fine. "He tried to hurt me!"

The boy felt fear and helplessness filling him from within. He, too, rose from the table, taking a step back and nearly colliding with the window. He raised his hands in front of him to prove his innocence, but the other guests in the inn had already noticed the incident and rushed towards him, eager to help Yelena.

Aleksander desperately looked around, searching for a way to escape. His mother hadn't allowed him to use his powers unless his life was in danger, but how was he supposed to deal with so many opponents? The innkeeper was already approaching him with a pitchfork, as were the other two men in the inn, whom the boy had no chance of winning if he chose to face them like otkazats'ya would. Aleksander's heart was pounding in his chest. He would die here, and Baghra would never find his body. They would pierce him like meat on a spit and take from him the treasure entrusted to his care.

"You little brat, I'll kill you!" the innkeeper shouted at him, moving toward him with increasingly rapid steps. "You'll find out what it means to swindle my daughter's innocence!"

The young man realized he only had one chance. He glanced up quickly, discovering that the inn's ceiling was supported by several wooden beams. He calculated the distance and clasped his hands in front of him, sending the shadow cut in that direction. Then he quickly dashed toward the door, hearing everything begin to collapse behind him.

And then Aleksander ran and ran. Each step took him further from the ruined inn, and his tears, carried on the wind, followed him like tiny raindrops dancing in the air on a clear day.

The boy didn't even know how he'd reached the very edge of the village. He stopped behind the last hut, placing his hands on his knees and breathing heavily. His stomach was in his throat, and his heart was beating so fast it almost burst his chest. But nothing could compare to what happened a moment later.

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder, spinning him around. Aleksander's eyes widened in shock, suspecting it was an attacker, but instead he looked into the steely eyes of his mother.

"What have you done?" Baghra hissed at him, digging her fingers into his hand so hard that he felt them almost pierce his skin despite the layers of clothing protecting it. "Can't you be left alone for even a moment?" Her features were contorted with such intense rage that the young man realized he would be punished for it.

"Madraya," Aleksander apologized, trying to free himself from her grip, but to no avail. "They surrounded me. They wanted to take your journal. I had no choice."

Baghra narrowed her eyes so tightly they became two thin slits.

"And what did you do to them?" she demanded, not letting go of his hand.

"They may be dead," the young man replied, not even trying to stop the tears that continued to stream down his face.

His mother calmed down a bit. She released his arm in disgust, but replied, "Good. Because otherwise they might recognize us," she said.

"But the madraya…" Aleksander began, rubbing his aching hand. "All these people…" he trailed off as her murderous gaze pierced him again.

"There is no one but you and me, boy," she reminded him. "Have you forgotten the lesson I'm telling you again?"

"Madraya..." the young man repeated again, but she faced him, practically pushing him against the wall of the hut they were hiding behind.

"You are and always will be alone, foolish boy," Baghra told him again, their faces now mere centimeters apart. "Therefore, the responsibility for what you do rests solely with you. Remember this once and for all."

The Black General was shaken from his reverie when the door behind him creaked softly and someone came into the room. The person walked around the table to sit across from him, and Aleksander had to admit he'd expected something pathetic, but not to this extent.

Careful of his appearance and convinced of his uniqueness, Lantsov Puppy now looked more like a beggar. So what if he'd donned his royal uniform when it seemed he hadn't even slept a wink since the incident. His always carefully styled hair was disheveled, and there were shadows under his pale eyes that immediately drew attention. Even his white waistcoat was buttoned incorrectly, and he'd forgotten the white-and-gold sash he always wore around his chest. The Darkling suppressed a wave of disgust, not wanting to be the first to speak to him. This pathetic loser had endangered national security, and if he expected sympathy, he wouldn't get it from his Regent. It was hard to imagine he'd get it from anyone, anyway.

"As you probably know, General Morozova, my wife is dead," Lantsov Puppy managed to stutter, resting his elbows on the tabletop and running his hands through his hair.

Aleksander stared at him for a moment before finally saying, "I should kill you, you useless brat," he announced in a nonchalant tone, making Nikolai look at him immediately, even though he still seemed half-conscious. "Do you realize that?" he asked, and the blond turned white as a sheet. "But I will let you live and pay for what you did instead. Death would be too merciful after what you did. I will sit and wait until it all collapses. And when it does, I will claim what's mine." The Darkling's tone was icy and emotionless, and he reveled in the fear now visible in the young Tsar Ravka's watery eyes.

"Or maybe you planned all this?" Nikolai asked suddenly, as if he fancied himself a sage. "Perhaps this is all your doing, to push me from my throne?"

The Shadow Summoner could have sworn he misheard him. His hands gripped the tabletop so tightly that several scratches appeared where his metal hand had marked the wooden surface.

"Perhaps I should kill you after all…" he muttered through his teeth, narrowing his eyes at the blond. "I advised you not to marry the Shu princess, didn't I? Meanwhile, you, a child without imagination who decided to play war, walked into the wolf's mouth like an obedient sheep. If it weren't for Ravka's good, I would have left you completely alone. But fortunately for you, you fool, I still care about my homeland," Aleksander stated, leaning forward a little, causing Nikolai to reflexively step back.

"And that's why you initiated this investigation?" Lantsov Puppy asked, all his usual arrogance gone from his voice. "But that will only attract more attention."

The Black General gripped the tabletop even tighter than before.

"You've attracted everyone’s attention, you crowned brat," he hissed, and the young ruler couldn't bear it any longer.

He jumped from his chair and began pacing along the fireplace. He was probably thinking about how to respond to the Darkling's accusation, but he had a moment's luck, because the door to the hunting room opened and the court chamberlain appeared, bowing to both men.

"Empress Kir-Taban to meet the Tsar and his Regent," the court servant announced, at which Lantsov Puppy stopped, trying to straighten up.

"Please bring her in," he ordered the royal council envoy, taking a few steps forward to rest his hand on the fireplace.

Aleksander reluctantly rose from his chair. However, he was aware of the rules of etiquette and knew how to respect them. The otkazats’ya didn't pay much attention to them, often causing scandals. He, however, treated conventions as an additional weapon. Many times in the past, he had led his interlocutors into a trap, allowing them to think they dominated him. In reality, he had been the one pulling all the strings, turning them into obedient puppets.

Makhi Kir-Taban entered the room, escorted by her female warriors.

Nikolai bowed to her in greeting, but said, "Your Majesty must leave your escort in the corridor. Unfortunately, Ravkan law dictates that royal meetings be held without witnesses," he stammered, and the Darkling noticed that if he hadn't been holding himself with the fireplace, he would have likely fallen.

The Shu ruler looked at him, an icy coldness radiating from her eyes.

"Meanwhile, international law guarantees members of the aristocracy a sense of security," she explained, her voice commanding, as if she were the law.

Lantsov Puppy ran his fingers through his blond hair and then began to stammer, "I assure you, Your Majesty, that you will be completely safe here."

Makhi Kir-Taban finally allowed her mask of cold calculation to slip for a moment.

“As it was with my sister?” she asked, nodding to her warriors to leave her alone. “What did you gain from this, Tsar Nikolai? Did you think you could seize the throne in Ahmrat Yen?” she stated dismissively as the door closed behind her Tavgharad.

Lantsov Puppy held out his hands defensively, shaking his head.

“Your Majesty, I…” he began, but the former Empress of Shu immediately interrupted.

“Ignorance of the law does not exempt you from obeying it, Tsar,” she informed him, not waiting for an invitation but moving to the nearest chair and sitting there gracefully. Authority literally radiated from her, and Aleksander knew he shouldn’t ignore her. She was unpredictable and wild. But also very intelligent. “Didn’t you know that only women can be rulers of Shu Han?” she sarcastically made eye contact with The Black General.

The Darkling showed her that she wasn't calling the shots here. His gaze was colder than ice and just as intense as his opponents.

"Your Highness..." Nikolai spoke again, but Aleksander ignored him completely.

This was adult business, not playing with tin soldiers.

"Ravka doesn't care about the Shu Han crown," he stated, not a single muscle in his face moving.

Makhi narrowed her eyes slightly, ignoring Lantsov Puppy.

"General Morozova," she said, placing her hands flat on the table and running her gaze up and down the Darkling's silhouette. "I don't think you're a reliable source of information."

Aleksander cocked his head to the side, frowning dramatically.

"Neither do you, Your Highness," he retorted. "Your ambitions and political aspirations have long been known. I would even venture to suggest that peace with Ravka does not suit you, Empress."

The former ruler of Ahmrat Jen straightened in her seat, her dark eyes narrowing into two thin slits.

"What are you insinuating, General?" she asked, the slowness of her words revealing the effort she was putting into fighting her own rage.

The Shadow Summoner smiled, but it was more of a grimace than a gesture of sympathy or openness.

"Nothing, Your Highness," he replied, adding nothing more.

Makhi glared at him for a moment, but finally relented.

"Shu Han won't let it go, General Morozova," she commented, revealing a row of white teeth that gave her the appearance of a predator poised to strike. "We demand access to the investigation."

Aleksander didn't even flinch. His demeanor showed her that he was to be taken seriously, and that he dictated the terms of his own territory.

"International law gives us the freedom to conduct this investigation, Empress," he informed her. "Therefore, we will handle this ourselves, and then we will inform the Shu side of our findings."

Makhi Kir-Taban finally dropped her mask. Beneath the beautiful facade lay corruption, anger, and rot. As well as a conviction of the right to revenge, resentment, and prejudice.

"My sister was killed, General Morozova!" she hissed, her voice rising. "And someone from Ravka did it!" The fire of hatred burned in her dark eyes.

But the Darkling ignored her. He had witnessed countless similar conversations, and if he showed any willingness to compromise, he would quickly lose his leadership position in this discussion. Meanwhile, he possessed not only a dominant nature, but also authority. When he spoke, he was listened to. When he remained silent, he was waited for.

"Our investigation will reveal the truth, Your Highness," The Shadow Summoner simply stated, leaning back slightly on the back of his chair.

"I assure you, General, that my grandmother will hear of everything. You have my word on that," Makhi threatened him, but not a muscle in his body moved.

"Of course, Empress, because I will inform her personally," the Darkling assured her, folding his arms across his stomach.

The former ruler of Ahmrat Jen clenched her hands so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Then she rose gracefully from her chair, throwing another insult at Lantsov Puppy and his Regent.

"Shu Han never forgets such an insult," she warned them, then turned to face the exit of the hunting room. "I advise you to remember that, Your Highnesses." With that, she marched toward the door, disappearing into the corridor a moment later.

As soon as she was no longer visible, Nikolai dug his fingers into his blond hair again, rushing to the chair Makhi had vacated to sit in and begin to complain.

"What will happen now?" he said to himself, giving vent to his own fear and frustration. "What will happen?"

Aleksander stared at him with a stony face, equally reveling in his anger and choking on his insides with disgust.

"Are you worried about that now, Tsar?" he asked, not drawing his watery gaze, though, as Nikolai was clearly in shock.

"What if the investigation reveals it was us? What will we do then, General Morozova?" the blond asked, his gaze glued to the tabletop as if some magical answers had been written in the wood grain.

"Then the ground beneath your feet will begin to split, you fool," The Shadow Summoner explained with a calmness that might have been more terrifying than true rage.

Lantsov Puppy finally jerked upright, madness blazing in his pale eyes.

"Let's cover this up!" he declared, perhaps thinking he was a genius.

Aleksander looked at him from his seat, his gaze sliding indulgently along his figure.

"Do you think it can be done?" he asked, shaking his head contemptuously. "They're just waiting for an excuse to attack us. Unfortunately, you'll have to drink the beer you brewed yourself, dear Tsar. And when you're too tipsy, you'll come to your knees and beg for help." With that, the Darkling finally rose from his chair, carefully and deliberately pushing it toward the table.

Without saying anything else, he headed for the door, not even looking back at Nikolai, who was now trying to stop him.

"General Morozova!" Lantsov Puppy shouted after him, his voice tinged with despair. "Please! Help me!"

And then Aleksander Morozova's lips stretched into a lazy half-smile.

Maybe you want to join my Darklina/Darkling discord community? Here is a link:

Notes:

Hello guys 🖤

First of all, I would like to thank you for your patience. I know this update arrived 2 days later than usually, but I am badly injured in left hand, which makes my writing process not only slow, but also very painful. Pain is so strong that I need to take special pills and make long breaks. I do my best, but I still process slowly like a turtle 💔🖤

I personally really wanted to give you this chapter, because it's a very important one. Here you will not only see what will Aleksander deal with soon, but also I intended to "compare" Aleksander to Nikolai here as rulers. I wanted to ask you a question then: who of them would you like to be your Tsar, if you could choose? 😈

I'm also sorry that again my Friend, Ola, will reply to my comments instead of me. It also makes my pain worse and I need all my strength for writing. But I read you all and I am forever grateful for your support. Thank you so much 🖤🌺

Next chapter will probably be released on Tuesday. I want to come back to my Sunday routine, but it is not possible this week (look how much I struggled this time). But maybe the week after this one, I can return to my normal posting schedule. Thank you for patience and inconvenience 🖤

Love you and I wish you all the best 🌺

Ewa

Chapter 13: The Girl Who Was Born from the Sun and Bathed in Blood

Summary:

"I saw my mother, Sasha," Alina told him, and his eyes widened, his hand steadying her back. "She…" The Sun Summoner hesitated as something tightened in her chest. "She died here."

The Darkling looked at her intensely, as if letting her finish.

"My mother was an Inferni, Sasha," she told him, remembering her pale face with its aristocratic features and the thin trickle of blood seeping from between her lips. "She was from Shu Han, and although my father tried to save her, she was gravely injured. Her dying wish was for me to be returned to your grandfather. My mother specifically requested it," the future queen of Ravka said, removing her hand from The Black General's cheek and signaling to him that she wanted him to help her up, which he gladly did.

"And what does Ilya have to do with this?" Aleksander asked her, even though he knew it perfectly well. Perhaps he needed to make sure he and Alina had always been mere puppets in his ancestor's hands. And The Sun Summoner understood this well, because she had the exact same impression.

"My mother was a living amplifier, Sasha," the girl added, letting a lone tear slide down her cheek.

Notes:

❗❗THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A LOT OF VIOLENCE❗❗

This story has been written for the Abyss of Light and Shadows Discord Server 🖤

Beta-read and art by Ola. Thank you so much for your help ❣

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

❗❗THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A LOT OF VIOLENCE❗❗

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aleksander was standing in the middle of the war room in The Little Palace, resting his hands on the table. A deep frown crossed his forehead, and he leaned forward slightly, his arms spread wide. Alina was sleeping in the adjacent room, as fatigue not only had been creeping up on her more and more frequently lately, but also made itself felt at the most unexpected moments. He didn't want to rob her of her sleep, as the long journey back to West Ravka would soon await them. Despite all the comforts the Darkling would like to provide, he would never be able to offer her the rest she needed. Reaching Os Kervo would take several days, and even with the most optimal route, it would still be a grueling challenge for a woman expecting not one, but two children. And not ordinary little ones, but living amplifiers.

Aleksander, therefore, divided his anxiety into many unequal parts: the inevitable war, the birth of his twins, and an ancestor tormenting his family with increasing insolence. Everything overlapped and seemed to interlock. The man felt that all his problems had a common origin, and all he had to do was determine what connected them. Time slipped through his fingers like water cupped in his hands. No matter how hard he tried to stem its flow, he lost it drop by drop.

When a knock sounded on the tall, massive door, The Black General immediately shook himself from his reverie, straightening. He was waiting here for someone he had learned to truly trust. Few people deserved that privilege, because constant betrayals, often experienced by those closest to him, forced him to defend himself against every possible blow. But this person had stuck by him even when others had turned against him. It was thanks to him that Ilya Morozova's notebook had fallen into the hands of The Starless Saint Cult, and then it was none other than he who had drawn Alina to the temple. He could have betrayed him, he could have left. He could have simply stolen a source of secret knowledge, the object of desire for many – and not just Grisha. Later, this man had proved his worth during the war with Fjerda. It was the gunpowder he had invented that significantly weakened the enemy's forces. This person had accepted his promotion in the ranks of The Second Army with humility and without the unnecessary mawkishness his General so disliked. Aleksander owed much to his Alkemi and was pleased that he had decided to take him with him to Os Alta. It was a somewhat spontaneous choice, considering how small a unit had accompanied the Regent of West Ravka to the capital. But the Darkling needed someone with a clear head to represent all the Materialki. And as it had turned out, this decision could have beneficial consequences. For Vladim Gulav took his duties seriously and could set an example for other lower-ranking soldiers.

"Come in!" Aleksander exclaimed, clasping his hands behind his back, as was his habit when addressing his subordinates.

The map he'd been examining moments earlier still lay spread out on his desk before him, bearing the corrections The Shadow Summoner had made to assess how to deploy his troops along the Shu Han border now that the heir to the throne of Ahmrat Jen had been murdered. It wasn't in his nature to sit idly by while the earth burned beneath his feet. He knew he'd have his hands full of work when he returned to Os Kervo. But that didn't mean he intended to stand by and watch this destruction, when in truth, he alone possessed the expertise to bring peace and conduct this investigation.

Vladim entered the war room equipped with a glass test tube and several sheets of paper. He wore his purple kefta, now also adorned with the insignia of a colonel. Aleksander greeted him with a nod, waiting for his dark-haired Materialki to get closer to him. Vladim walked around the large table with maps and approached his General, causing him to pull his hands from behind his back and place them in front of him, ready to accept the documents his Alkemi had brought him.

"Moi Soverenyi," the young man greeted him, bowing slightly to Aleksander. "I think I'm finally ready to share my observations with you. Forgive me for taking so long."

The Darkling had no reservations about his work. Knowing that the court in Os Alta had hindered him in examining individual samples, citing state secrets as a defense, he was pleasantly surprised that his dark-haired colonel had gotten through it so quickly. The entire had process proved so complicated that The Shadow Summoner had to intervene several times, reminding both the fools that he was now in charge, as their incompetent Tsar had secluded himself in his private chambers, avoiding any responsibility.

Aleksander took the pages held out to him and began to quickly scan their contents. As he did, a deep frown appeared on his forehead.

"So," he finally said, narrowing his eyes. "Only this one bottle from which the king poured wine for his deceased wife contained traces of the poison? And there were no traces of toxins in any other samples taken from other guests' glasses?" The Black General assured himself, placing the documents on the desk and glancing at his Alkemi.

The dark-haired man nodded.

"Exactly, sir," he replied, his tone calm and matter-of-fact as always. "The poison was detected only in all bottles from royal treasury. It took me a long time to determine the toxin that caused this, as the plant that produces it is not typically grown in Ravka. It requires a warmer climate, and that's why wild specimens have only been sighted in the south of the country." The Darkling frowned at this, as he didn't remember the name of the poison being mentioned in the report he had just read. "I didn't put its name there for safety," his Alkemi told him, surprising him again with his foresight. "The royal advisors were constantly hovering over me, and the less they know, sir, the better."

"Very good," Aleksander praised him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "But do you know what it is?" he asked.

Vladim nodded, confident.

"Yes, moi Soverenyi," he replied, pulling several reddish-looking seeds from his pocket. "The toxin that caused Princess Ehri's death is ricin. Not in a low dose, sir, but in a high concentration, as if the royal wife had been administered the essence itself," the dark-haired Materialki explained.

The Darkling removed his hand, narrowing his eyes. Provided the Fjerdans weren't impersonating potential perpetrators, they could be safely ruled out. Castor bean, the plant that produced castor oil – which contained ricin – couldn't grow in such a cold climate, let alone bear fruit. Aleksander was well-acquainted with this plant, as it had been responsible for numerous poisonings and deaths, especially those of political origin. Of course, their neighbors to the north might have wanted to divert attention by choosing an unlikely murder weapon. The problem was, this didn't change the fact that they were significantly weakened after the war with Ravka. Fjerda, despite its lust for domination over other powers, built its power on pragmatism. They didn't rush headlong into the sun, as the saying went. They carefully planned their expansion, preferring to send drüskelle into the interior of the neighboring kingdom rather than attack Ravkans without first considering the likelihood of victory.

"And how was the wine poisoned?" The Black General demanded to know, looking his Alkemi straight in the eye. "I personally saw the Tsar uncork the bottle."

Vladim nodded.

"Yes, moi Soverenyi, you're right," he said. "I believe it was done through cork."

Aleksander had to admit he was quite surprised.

"Through cork?" he asked, the frown deepening.

"Would you mind looking at the last page, sir," his dark-haired colonel asked, and the Darkling gladly obliged. "Do you see this sketch? It's a thin glass pipette, barely thicker than a human hair. It's made of a metal alien to Ravka, which doesn't corrode and doesn't alter the taste of food by tarnishing it with a metallic aftertaste. It resembles a needle with a pump, the kind the Fjerdans used to inject us with jurda parem, sir. Except it's extremely thin and dangerous in the hands of someone trained in its use," the dark-haired man paused, giving his commander time to settle in.

The Shadow Summoner frowned at the cunningness of this plan. Someone seemed to know a great deal about the contents of the royal treasury, and saw that it had a special cold storage room for wine. An uninitiated person might have assumed the cellar was used, as usual, but someone who had carefully examined the situation knew the actual location of the aged beverage.

“And how is there no hole in the cork?” Aleksander asked his Alkemi, increasingly inclined to believe Shu Han was involved in this crime.

“The hole is almost imperceptible, sir,” Vladim explained. “Besides, the cork simply softens under the influence of the moisture in the wine vapors, and the hole closes up.”

The Darkling needed to be sure of something else.

“So we can rule out Grisha’s involvement?” he asked, because considering the samples of the jurda parem antidote that disappeared from the laboratory in Os Kervo, one might think that a Tidemaker might have had a hand in restoring the cork to its original state.

“That’s not possible, moi Soverenyi,” his dark-haired Alkemi informed him. “It was done in a very traditional manner, and…” Vladim visibly hesitated. “I can show you how, sir.”

The Shadow Summoner narrowed his eyes. Materialki placed the sample on the table and then pulled back the flap of his kefta. Beneath it was a bottle of Tsar's wine, which he himself had been forced to retrieve from the treasury. Aleksander knew he should condemn his actions. Perhaps even punish him severely. Meanwhile, Vladim had once again proven his devotion to him and that he wasn't afraid to risk his life for the good of the state. There was no way to do this legally, so – in order to allow the Darkling to maintain control of the situation without the risk of the factions favoring Lantsov Puppy putting obstacles in his way – his Colonel had simply removed the evidence of the crime from the scene.

"Sir, forgive me for the potential problems this may cause," he replied, holding the bottle in his hands and lowering his gaze.

But The Shadow Summoner merely nodded.

"I'll take care of it," he stated, holding out his hand for the ancient liquor. "It wasn't something I suspected you of, Vladim, but leave it to me. Now tell me why you took such a risk and what you wanted to prove to me," he ordered, neither approving nor condemning his subordinate's actions.

The dark-haired Alkemi wasn't one to show his emotions easily. But he seemed somewhat relieved, for he was devoted to the cause of all Grisha, but he was also one of those people who could best be described as a dedicated servant. He wouldn't forgive himself if his excesses jeopardized the pursuit of Ravka's independence, as represented by Aleksander Morozova.

"Sir, would you kindly look at this in a better light?" Materialki prompted, to which his commander moved the wine to one of the oil lamps. "See, moi Soverenyi, what's floating at the bottom. I've examined all the bottles, and this one contains the murder weapon. Look closely, sir. And you'll see how the metal sparkles despite the liquid surrounding it," his Colonel advised him, and The Shadow Summoner followed his instructions, turning the bottle in his hands in the glow of the oil lamp.

And then he actually saw it. A very thin, metallic object, resembling a needle, had somehow managed to get inside the bottle, even though it was still corked and the lid intact.

"I can't say for sure that it's what we think, moi Soverenyi," Vladim warned him. "But since I know what such objects look like, and since poison has only been found in wine opened by the Tsar, seeing something like this, I can only come to one conclusion," the dark-haired man added, as always not pushing his theory, but leaving it for Aleksander to consider.

“Destroy the bottle, Vladim,” the Darkling suddenly ordered him, handing him the wine back. “I guess we have no choice but to see if you're right.”

Alkemi's eyes widened in shock.

"Of course, moi Soverenyi, as you command," he said, tightening his grip on the bottle's neck. "But I've heard that this wine is more valuable than some of the Tsar's heirlooms, and I wouldn't want you to get into trouble because of me, sir." Materialki wanted to reassure himself once again that this was exactly what was expected of him.

He knew the gravity of this act and could assess its consequences. His General might be the ruler of Ravka, but for now, only of its Western part. Although he was officially handling this investigation now, the kingdom's treasures still belonged to the Lantsovs. And The Shadow Summoner valued his Alkemi's foresight. It was one of the things that had earned him his respect.

The Black General glanced around the war room, remembering that nothing had been touched since his departure from The Little Palace. Finally, his gaze fell on something still sitting on the dresser in front of the bathroom entrance. Aleksander remembered washing himself in a hurry, as they were to leave for Revost a few minutes later. He ordered Vladim to bring a large ceramic bowl to the main part of the room and pour the contents of a bottle taken from the royal treasury into it. He dutifully did so, and as the ruby liquid spread across the white surface, the object at the bottom became even more visible, revealing itself to be a needle.

"Take this out, Vladim," Aleksander instructed, at which his Materialki took a small pair of tweezers from his kefta pocket, using them to fish out a thin thing from the bottom of the bowl.

He then placed the object at eye level of The Black General, allowing him to get the best view of the find.

"It's a Shu Han invention, sir," his Alkemi confirmed, showing his commander a broken tool, which was also a weapon. "Whoever did this could have been Grisha, of course, but they certainly did it the traditional way. There's no sign of small science in it, moi Soverenyi. The perpetrator could be the otkazats'ya, but it could also be one of our own."

The Darkling narrowed his eyes, not entirely satisfied with the turn of events. There was a chance that Lantsov Puppy had allowed someone unauthorized to enter the vault, and that someone was responsible for poisoning the wine.

"I must speak with Nikolai," The Shadow Summoner finally decided, already knowing that his first priority should be confronting the pathetic heir to the Ravkan throne. "And you, Vladim," he ordered, taking one last look at the spilled wine. "Please check if this bottle also contains ricin. Then we will have certainty and a point of reference that only the batch of drink intended for special occasions was actually poisoned, which will mean that this attack was aimed at the royal family."

His Alkemi nodded respectfully.

"Of course, moi Soverenyi," replied the dark-haired Colonel, bowing slightly to his General.

Aleksander approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder, and then said something he himself truly believed was well-deserved, "Thank you, Vladim. You once again proved how well you serve me and Ravka."

***

The Black General of Ravka was summoned to one of the council rooms in The Grand Palace to await an audience with Tsar Pyotr. The leader of The Second Army always arrived early, as punctuality was in his nature. When you lived as long as he did, time ceased to matter. Establishing fixed points to organize your daily schedule became essential to give your immortality a certain temporal framework. Aleksander Morozova had never been late. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for the current ruler of Ravka, who often had to sober up before following the schedule set for him by his royal advisors.

Today was no different from many others, very similar days. The Darkling was strolling slowly along one of the walls overlooking the palace courtyard, glancing into every window he passed. He kept his hands clasped behind his back, feeling the stiff, embroidered material of his kefta scratch lightly against his palms. Although he expected why he had been summoned here, he still mentally prepared for a confrontation with the Tsar. Pyotr Lantsov expected quick results, for the ground was burning beneath his feet. West Ravka had turned into a cauldron of hot water, the boiling of which was forcibly suppressed by pressing the lid tightly shut. Unfortunately, the steam was already bursting from within. The king practically needed a miracle to maintain control over this part of the country, and he had finally been given a name to it – and its name was Alina Starkov.

Aleksander had no intention of trading the life of someone he had waited for all these centuries. Ever since he had unleashed her light back in the Kribirsk camp, he had known he couldn't waste such a chance. His fight could finally make some progress, and the odds might even out. Believing that the Lantsovs would do anything good for this country would be foolishness, unbecoming of the Darkling. Generations of the ruling dynasty had passed, and nothing had changed, or if anything, it was for the worse. The Black General tried to fight on his own, pushing his own agenda and, with the sweat of his brow, extracting one small concession after another. Sometimes he would take two steps forward, only to take a larger one back. His insides burned with the ubiquitous waste and stupidity, but he had to grit his teeth and bow before the Tsar's absolute. But soon, all would finally change. The hope Aleksander had sought for centuries turned out to be a young girl, discovered quite by accident during an unsuccessful crossing of The Shadow Fold. The girl who concealed her powers from the outside world by wearing her own mask. The Black General understood this well, as he, too, had developed a survival mechanism in the form of hiding behind a version of himself that existed only for the outside world. Except, in his case, it was never about fear of being a Grisha. Quite the opposite, for he represented an oppressed minority, becoming a champion of their freedom and equality. Alina Starkov, on the other hand, deliberately suppressed her own nature, fearing loneliness and difference. It seemed that the two of them were diametrically opposed. Meanwhile, both Aleksander and the young cartographer hid their identities, living with the burden of that decision.

The door behind the Darkling finally creaked slightly, and a man of medium height and stocky build entered. He wasn't wearing the ceremonial royal attire he wore during official meetings or appearances. Tsar Pyotr Lantsov had donned typical everyday clothes, consisting of dark trousers and a light shirt. His face bore signs of lack of sleep and excessive drinking. The ruler had dark circles under his eyes and didn't seem in the best of moods, but since he had requested this meeting, he had to attend it.

Aleksander turned from the window to face him, bowing slightly. The king waved him off dismissively, sinking into one of the chairs pulled out from the long table, his feet spread wide on the ground, and his hands flat on the tabletop. A moment later, he was reaching for a squat carafe of kvass and pouring himself some of the amber liquid into the glass he had previously prepared.

"General Kirigan," Lantsov said to The Shadow Summoner, inviting him to join him. "The timing of our meeting may be a bit inconvenient, but I'll be very busy later and won't have time for you. In the meantime, we need to talk, and since I know you're also leaving for the northern front for a few days, we'll do so today, as every day's delay seems like a loss for our kingdom," the ruler commented, waiting for the Darkling to sit across from him.

"Of course, moi Tsar," Aleksander stated, keeping his usual expression impassive. "I'm all ears."

Pyotr took a long sip of the low-proof drink, sloshing it around in his mouth for a moment. Then he said, "I expect The Sun Summoner to be ready to destroy The Fold before summer."

The Black General felt a twinge of anger and surprise, but as always, he masked it perfectly. Alina had only just been accepted into the ranks of The Second Army, and that fool already believed she was prepared for a step no one had ever dared before. Not to mention other aspects, like the fact that Aleksander had entirely different plans for her. He hoped she would side with him. That if she understood the suffering and persecution her kin had endured, she would willingly choose not only Ravka, but the good of all Grisha.

Meanwhile, the Tsar planned to turn her into yet another cannon fodder. Alina couldn't even summon her own power, and this ignorant thought her abilities appeared at will and had nothing to do with her psyche or her willingness to use the small science. This naive fool treated the soldiers of The Second Army like game on the hunt. He didn't mind if someone killed Grisha, as long as there was some degree of order on the borders. Maintaining power was his only priority. Whoever died along the way was part of the profit and loss equation. The problem was, in Pyotr Lantsov's case, profit was the only factor that mattered.

"With your pardon, Your Highness," Aleksander said, calm and matter-of-fact as always when confronted by fools. "Miss Starkov had only just begun her training and didn't yet possess the necessary skills to not only destroy The Shadow Fold, but even get inside without dying at the volcra's claws."

The king looked at him with disbelief, reaching for the carafe of kvass and pouring himself a generous portion.

"General Kirigan," he began again, corking the crystal bottle and setting it carelessly on the oak counter. "You know I don't ask much of you, but I don't maintain your military formation for free. Therefore, I expect tangible results. Meanwhile, when I ask for them, you start hiding behind the comfort of one foolish girl? When the good of all Ravka is at stake?" Lantsov said angrily, pouring a generous portion of kvass down his throat.

Aleksander felt rage welling up inside him. However, it would be useless to express it. This wasn't how one spoke to Tsar Pyotr. The Darkling had already transformed dozens of rulers from this dynasty, and although each had been fundamentally different, they shared the same depravity. However, each of them had had to be dealt with somewhat differently. The current king liked it when people seemed to agree with him, so when he thought he had the final say, a chance to make concessions arose. And The Shadow Summoner had mastered the art of manipulating him under the guise of carrying out his orders. It wasn't particularly difficult, though humiliating.

"The good of Ravka will always be my highest priority, and that of the entire Second Army, moi Tsar," Aleksander replied calmly. "But you care about the effectiveness of this entire operation, Your Highness. You know that throwing one girl, no matter how powerful, to be devoured by a hundred hungry monsters won't bring the desired result. That's why we're seeking out the youngest Grisha, to give them time to learn how to control their powers. Alina Starkov is a young, yet adult woman. She's lost several years of training, which she now needs to make up for. Merely possessing the ability to summon the sun isn't enough, moi Tsar. She must be able to do it fully consciously, otherwise she'll not only kill herself, but also anyone else who joins her on this expedition. You, Your Highness, will be exposed to ridicule before all the nobles of West Ravka. And we don't want that, do we, Sir?" the Darkling asked, citing one of the things Pyotr Lantsov feared most – the loss of his image.

The king cursed something under his breath, but The Black General couldn't make out the individual words. Then the ruler jerked his head up, and his eyes blazed with the madness typical of someone obsessively afraid of losing their power.

"Then train her faster, General Kirigan," he muttered through his teeth, completely absorbed in the thought that the financial flows to the treasury from West Ravka might be reduced if Zlatan took power. "Work your magic and force her a little. You see what's happening in the West. There are already whispers that they don't need us at all. They'll secede from us, General. And they'll slaughter all the Grisha, you know that!" Pyotr growled, slamming his hand on the table.

There was one thing the Darkling agreed on with the current king. In his opinion, the general from Novokribirsk was truly dangerous and could bring about the downfall of his homeland. Rumors had long been circulating about his dealings with the Fjerdans, and allowing them into Ravka meant intensifying the persecution of Grisha. Aleksander also wanted to overthrow Zlatan, though for altruistic reasons, not the selfish ones represented by Lantsov.

"I will do everything in my power, moi Tsar," The Shadow Summoner stated, bowing his head slightly. "But I cannot promise you it will be before winter. You hold a great advantage, Your Majesty," he reasoned with the king, who seemed to finally be beginning to listen. "If you don't want to lose your Sun Summoner, you must give her time to learn to control her abilities. At least at a basic level. I can help her destroy The Fold, but I won't do it for her. Otherwise, as you know, moi Tsar, I would have done it long ago," Aleksander lied, not batting an eyelid.

And then Pyotr Lantsov said something that chilled The Black General to the bone, filling him with even greater rage. Alina was too important to him to accept such words. Less than three days after the demonstration, the king had already shown he wasn't interested in the sacrifices made, provided he was the one to achieve another success.

"Frankly, General Kirigan," he said, frowning at the Darkling. "This martyrdom of this girl might even pay off." Aleksander was glad he wasn't keeping his hands on the table, because he could now clench them angry fists. "You know how superstitious and religious the Ravkans are. The New Saint, who died for them all, trying to save them, could serve us as the perfect tool to regain the ground we're losing. The mob will turn against Zlatan, and all independence sentiment will be nipped in the bud. So if you really don't make it before winter, General, I expect you to send her there. Fully trained or not. Understood?"

The Shadow Summoner's eyes flashed with the fire of hatred. Anyone else would have mistaken this for a willingness to obey an order. He, however, knew what he had to do. And if he was going to bend the knee, then this time the one who had asked him to do it, would do so with him.

The Darkling was jolted out of his reverie by the sound of footsteps. This time, however, it wasn't Pyotr Lantsov, but his heir to the throne, who turned out not to be his son at all, as he didn't even have blue blood flowing in his veins. Nikolai walked around the table set up in the hunting room, taking a seat opposite The Black General. Although his appearance left less to be desired than a few days earlier, the light in his eyes had faded, making the young ruler resemble a living corpse. The rot of fear and doubt was eating him from the inside. His own choices seemed to be gnawing at his insides, because the blond truly looked as if he were about to fall to pieces.

"Regent Morozova," Lantsov Puppy greeted his guest, and he had to admit he felt a twinge of satisfaction. The young Tsar had never addressed him that way, yet now fear forced him to confront him as an equal.

Aleksander leaned forward a little, placing his hands flat on the table. He looked into his interlocutor's watery eyes, then simply stated, "I come with the results of my investigation, Tsar."

Nikolai ran a hand through his blond hair, his expression a nervous one.

"And what are they, General?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but unable to hide the stress consuming him from within, as did his anxiety.

He reached for a large bottle of herbal tincture, holding it up as if to ask his interlocutor if he would like a drink. Not a muscle in the Darkling's face twitched. So Lantsov poured himself a portion, downing half the glass practically in one gulp.

Aleksander waited until the boy had swallowed the alcohol, then clasped his fingers together on the counter in front of him.

"First, I'll ask you a few questions, moi Tsar," he told him, as if they were bartering and about to start haggling.

What the blond didn't know was that The Shadow Summoner was setting the stakes.

"What is it?" Nikolai wanted to know, but his voice was very uncertain.

Where was that arrogant boy who thought he'd figured it all out?

"Who has access to the royal treasury?" The Black General asked, giving the blond ruler an intense look.

He seemed to misunderstand the question. It was as if he expected a trick, which made him proceed with caution.

"Only I, the Royal Treasurer, and..." It was Lantsov Puppy who trailed off, as if realizing he'd made a mistake.

But the Darkling caught on quickly. And that was precisely why he frowned at him.

"And?" he asked, tapping his fingertips together.

Nikolai seemed to sink into himself a bit. It was clear he was nervous and couldn't mask it properly.

"That's not the case, General," he assured him, smiling somewhat like a madman. "Because that person wasn't present at either the wedding ceremony or the wedding reception."

But that wasn't how you conducted a discussion with Aleksander Morozova. He always got what he wanted, whether anyone liked it or not.

"And who is that person?" he asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.

Lantsov Puppy tightened his fingers around the glass of herbal liqueur in front of him, as if he intended to crush it.

"From what I understand, this person is your prisoner, Regent," the blond ruler said cautiously, and the Darkling could have sworn that if the table weren't so wide apart, he would have stood up and grabbed him by the collar of the white ceremonial shirt the fool had donned.

So Zoya Nazyalensky had access not only to the royal treasury, but also to the wine. This was beyond The Black General's comprehension, but knowing the new Tsar, should he still harbor any illusions?

"You authorized Nazyalensky to enter your treasury?" Aleksander assured himself, each word deliberately drawn out, tinged with danger. "Even I have never had such authority."

Nikolai glanced away and began nervously drumming his fingers on the oak tabletop.

"Our finances were in a dire state, Regent," he informed him, as if he weren't talking about anything sinister, but about something perfectly normal. "That's one of the reasons we incorporated The Second Army into The First Army before you took over again and started financing it yourself," the blond man explained.

Unfortunately, that didn't explain The Squaller's newfound competences. The Shadow Summoner hated being made a fool of and had no intention of allowing it.

"What does Nazyalensky have to do with this?" Aleksander asked again, but his patience was growing thin.

Nikolai, meanwhile, had transformed into a little boy being scolded, so he had no choice but to feel guilty.

"Zoya helped me manage my finances, because..." He paused for a moment, seemingly searching for the right words. "I'm very bad at this."

One idiot teaching another. Someone with zero training, distributing the entire country's funds. What would have happened if The Black General hadn't taken over West Ravka? Wouldn't his homeland have already been ruined, leaving nothing left to save?

The Shadow Summoner narrowed his eyes at his interlocutor until they became two thin slits. Oh, how much he would give to end that scoundrel's pathetic existence. To put an end, along with him, to the hereditary disease that had plagued this kingdom for centuries, like a plague returning with the coronation of another Lantsov. But Aleksander didn't want to destabilize the system already trembling within its facades. Ravka meant more to him, after all, than a personal vendetta. However, that didn't mean the blond fool shouldn't learn the damage he'd caused.

"Nazyalensky and finances?" he asked, uncrossing his fingers and leaning back in his chair. "Is that when your passionate affair began, Tsar? Did you while away your time frolicking among precious stones and national heirlooms?" the Darkling sneered.

"I don't have to, and I won't, answer those accusations, General Morozova," Lantsov Puppy stated, but his interlocutor already knew the answer.

"Was Alina aware of what you were doing behind her back?" The Shadow Summoner pressed the blond man, feeling the rage singing through his veins, telling him to use his powers.

Nikolai shifted in his seat like a student at a school desk.

"Alina, she, well..." he trailed off, aware of who he was talking to. But most of all, of who this discussion was about.

"Aaaah..." Aleksander began to tap his lower lip, but this theatrical gesture was meant to mask the murderous urge that now took over his mind. "Alina expressed no interest in your feeble advances, and since you were hoping to play tricks on the powerful Grisha, you reached for another item on your list? Isn't that right, Tsar?" His tone was nonchalant, but it masked a deadly predator ready to lunge for its prey's throat at any moment.

"I'm warning you, General Morozova..." Lantsov Puppy mustered his courage, but it looked more like a duel between a puppy and a full-grown wolf.

The Darkling gripped the edge of the table so tightly that the wood began to creak.

"You? You're warning me?" Aleksander could have cut off his empty head with the shadow cut and no doubt he'd be thanked for it. "You've been obsessed with Grisha since childhood!" he gritted, seeing the blond Tsar shrink back in his chair. "You showed up at every training session you managed to sneak out from under your mother's skirt. And then you followed me around like a shadow, thinking I didn't notice."

The young Tsar shook his head in a feeble attempt at self-defense.

"That's not true, General," he denied, his eyes darting everywhere to escape Aleksander's black eyes.

"I should tear you to pieces, Tsar," The Black General hissed at him, barely containing his righteous anger. "You treated Alina so vilely, when she supported your pathetic reign. To you, she was merely a tool to maintain your grip on power. But I will not do so, for your end is near, and I long to wallow in the blood our enemies will drain from you." Aleksander Morozova's eyes became nothing more than two thin slits once more. However, they guarded the entrance to hell, and only a fool would dare to cross that line.

Nikolai swallowed hard, but summoned a remnant of that pathetic pride that might not have flowed in his blood, but was certainly present in the doctrine he'd absorbed from the Lantsovs the day he was born.

"And you, Regent Morozova?" he asked, finally summoning the courage to look the Darkling straight in the eye. "Didn't you use Alina in exactly the same way?"

A crack appeared in the oak tabletop where Aleksander had gripped it so tightly that the wooden surface split at the knot. Then he rose from the chair, walking around the table and stopping above the still-seated Nikolai. And that was when he grabbed the blond by the collar of his shirt, yanking him up from his seat.

"For me," he said through his teeth, ignoring the fact that the young Tsar had turned white as a sheet. "It was always her. It will always be her, and it will never change. There will never be any replacements. It was always about her." The Darkling pronounced each subsequent word with painful length, dripping it like venom into Lantsov Puppy's ear. "And it was never about power, but Ravka. It's this one thing a scum like you will never understand." With that, Aleksander released the blond, allowing him to fall back into the chair with a dull thud.

Nikolai opened his mouth, then immediately closed it. His chest was rising and falling violently as he tried to calm himself. Anyone else would have been responsible for insulting the head of state. But not The Black General. Not the one without whom Lantsov Puppy had no hope of somehow extricating himself from the mess he had brought upon his country.

Aleksander had had enough of this game and this pointless discussion. Therefore, he decided to ask another question and take steps to delay the war as quickly as possible.

"Did anyone else besides Nazyalensky enter the vault?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at Nikolai but not returning to his seat. He stood near the table, bracing himself with his metal hand.

The blond ruler began to straighten his shirt, muttering something under his breath.

"No," he finally stated, avoiding his interlocutor's gaze.

The Black General frowned slightly, but he already knew what he had to do.

"I have all my answers," he replied, intending to leave the hunting room.

But Lantsov Puppy didn't want to end the meeting before he knew what to expect.

"How so?" he asked, stopping the Darkling mid-stride, a hint of pleading in his voice. "And what are those answers?"

Aleksander decided to torment Nikolai even further. That he wouldn't deny himself the satisfaction of showing him what his own stupidity had led him to. Could this be considered cruel on his part? Perhaps. But surely this fool deserved it more than anyone else.

"When you cheat on one woman with another, and then do the same to another, but with a third, the latter knows exactly how it feels, having participated in it herself," the Darkling remarked nonchalantly, tilting his head slightly to bask in his interlocutor's helplessness.

Lantsov Puppy paled noticeably, though he continued to try to put on a good face.

"Do you think Zoya…" he began, but a sharp look from Aleksander stopped him.

"Time will tell," he replied, preparing to leave the room again. "From now on, I'll handle this myself. Problems like this aren't for little boys like you."

Nikolai jumped up from his seat, his face growing paler.

"General Morozova, don't leave me alone with this! We should work together!" the blond ruler insisted, but The Black General had already ignored him. All that mattered now was that this fool didn't make even more of a mess before Aleksander put all the pieces of the puzzle together.

"Remember not to give any information to Empress Makhi, Tsar," his Regent instructed him. "Tomorrow I will start a journey to Os Kervo and deal with Zoya myself." With that, the Darkling headed for the door, paying no attention to anything else.

But Lantsov Puppy was already running towards him, clearly not wanting to let him leave the room.

"General Morozova!" Nikolai pleaded, but The Shadow Summoner's hand was already on the doorknob. "Please! By All Saints, let's cover this up!"

Aleksander's head snapped around one last time to the blond, who seemed to be having a nervous breakdown.

"But how do you plan to cover this up, Tsar?" he asked. "Zoya did this either on her own or in concert with someone else. Whatever the truth, the blame lies with us. We have no evidence to support a possible lie, so we must rely on Queen Leyti's willingness to communicate with us," he stated, his voice cold as ice and devoid of emotion.

Nikolai gripped his hair.

"But I..." he began, but stopped when The Black General narrowed his eyes at him again.

"War is only a matter of time, Tsar," he informed him, because he had no doubts about it. "Since you're so fond of praying to the Saints, I advise you to start doing so, because if Makhi seizes throne again, this conflict will become much bloodier," Aleksander warned.

The blond man was practically tearing his blond locks from the top of his head, now resembling the madman he undoubtedly was.

"General Morozova! Don't leave me here!" he pleaded again, and one could almost say he was ready to grab the Darkling's hand, but fortunately, he held back at the last moment. "Shu Han will surely withdraw their troops that have supported the capital's defense. We will be defenseless here! If you care about Ravka, you will not leave Os Alta undefended!" the young ruler argued, but The Shadow Summoner's face remained impassive.

"Well, moi Tsar," Aleksander finally replied after a long silence. "Now, if you need support, you will come to Os Kervo. I am not your dog to obey your commands. Especially since you do nothing but one foolish thing after another. If I were you, I would start arming myself. Instead of living lavishly and supporting these courtly slackers, start behaving like a ruler. I have nothing more to add," he stated icily, finally tugging on the handle.

“But…” Lantsov Puppy tried to stop him, but The Black General had already disappeared behind the door.

***

As Alina slowly descended the carriage steps, an incredible sight unfolded before her eyes. The forest abruptly ended, transforming into a sandy desert. There was no transitional stage, just simply a swath of trees transformed into a sea of white sand, blown by the wind as it gusted. This was the third stop on the way to Os Kervo, but she could have sworn they hadn't traveled this way before. Aleksander feared an attack of khergud soldiers, so he had chosen a slightly longer route through a town that, as a former cartographer, The Sun Summoner knew for its historical significance. A miracle, mentioned in the "Lives of the Saints," had supposedly once occurred here. But then The Shadow Fold had swallowed the small settlement, leaving nothing behind but a large monument standing on a hill bordering the former Unsea.

Alina had visited many places destroyed by the merzost and reduced to nothingness by the power of pain, righteous anger, and dark magic. But almost nowhere was this contrast so striking. It was as if death had clashed with life, and the line separating them served as a link between the world of the living and the afterlife. Now, with the sun almost setting, the sight held a mystical quality and a certain nostalgia. The girl found herself simply absorbing it, feeling a strange tightness in her heart, unable to explain the emotion. Therefore, she almost didn't realize when someone approached her from behind, wrapping their arms around her now rounded waist. A moment later, someone rested their chin on her shoulder, and the familiar scent of primeval forest and musk filled her nostrils, bringing with it an instant sense of peace.

"Aleksander," the future queen of Ravka said quietly, closing her eyes slightly. The people around them were milling about like busy ants, but in that moment, only they mattered. "So this is Tsemna."

The Darkling reached for her hand from behind, squeezing it lightly.

"Yes, and this is where we'll stay for the night," he stated, then kissed her head from behind.

Alina didn't pay attention to where they were as long as they were together and drawing closer to home. South Ravka wasn't the safest region in the country now, and although the area around Tsemna had become quite deserted, the faithful still made pilgrimages here, remembering the Saint who had saved so many lives centuries ago. The girl didn't know the story well, but she remembered that a certain statue had been built here. And it wasn't just any monument, but a miracle in itself. Despite the strange unease that had crept into Alina's heart, something compelled her to visit this place. Her skin seemed to shimmer slightly at the thought of finally having arrived here. Now, with Aleksander's men busy setting up camp, all they could do was wait until they were finished, or kill some time enjoying themselves. The Sun Summoner preferred a stroll around the grounds to sitting idly in the carriage. The Darkling no longer allowed her to ride horseback, but he certainly wouldn't deny her a short stroll to the place of legend. Or at least, that was what the future queen of Ravka hoped for when she decided to ask the question.

“Sasha?” she called his name, feeling his warm breath against her ear.

“Hmmm,” he replied, not letting go of her.

“How long will it take your men to set up camp?” Alina wanted to know, reaching behind her to tenderly stroke The Black General’s neck.

“At least two hours, milaya. Why do you ask?” There was palpable concern and hesitation in the man’s voice. “Are you feeling unwell? Should I summon Genya?” Aleksander tried to pull away, but she stopped him with her free hand.

Then she quickly explained, “No, I just… I don’t want to wait here. Would you like to come with me to the statue of Sankta Anastasia?” she asked.

The Shadow Summoner stiffened slightly. There could be many reasons for this. The girl began to wonder if Tsemna held any memories for the Darkling. Good, painful, and perhaps even drenched in blood. Someday, when their children were born, Alina hoped Aleksander would tell them stories from his own past. For he held pain, memories, and the wisdom of the ages. No one had ever fascinated her as much as he did. And though The Black General didn't particularly like to talk about himself, they had all of eternity for him to open up a little to her, to share the secrets of his soul with those closest to him.

"Let's go then," the Darkling finally agreed, reluctantly releasing her from his embrace and pulling his nose from her hair. Then he joined her at her side, offering her his arm. "Are you sure you can walk, milaya? It's a bit of a climb." Skepticism flickered in his dark eyes. "I can carry you, if you like."

The girl's eyes widened at the suggestion. Aleksander couldn’t to be serious. She hadn't weighed as much as a feather in weeks, and from what she'd heard, the statue had been placed on a hill. Sometimes, The Black General really did come up with the craziest ideas.

"Sasha, I still have two healthy legs," she joked, pressing her cheek to his shoulder. "Let's go. I can't explain it, but I feel a strange unease when I'm here, and I won't find peace until I find out why."

The Darkling shook his head slightly, then led her toward the border between the dense forest and the desert. For a while, they followed it, moving very slowly. Then, however, the forest suddenly thinned, giving way to a moderately steep slope, at the top of which loomed a large statue. And then The Black General simply stopped. He looked up, assessing the distance, frowning. Alina saw his hesitation, though, as always in such moments, he himself was very reserved. She worried they might turn around and simply head back to camp. But then, without warning, Aleksander bent down slightly and lifted her from the ground like a feather. The girl could only gasp in surprise, and seconds later she was being carried up the hill in the arms of the man, who feared that such physical exertion in her condition might harm her and their children.

"Sasha," The Sun Summoner blushed, burying her face in the crook of his neck. "I told you that you don’t have to do this."

"No protests," he replied, his tone gentle. "You wanted to see the statue of Sankta Anastasia, but we'll do it on my terms."

The old Alina probably resented that The Black General always had to have the last word. But the current Alina had learned to trust his opinions. She didn't protest on principle, just to be right. She still knew how to defend her beliefs when necessary, and she didn't hesitate to do so. But at the same time, she had finally developed the ability to make concessions if it was truly in the best interest of everyone she cared about.

The ten-minute walk finally ended. Carrying her to the top of the hill, Aleksander never once showed any signs of fatigue or slowed his pace. When The Sun Summoner's feet finally touched the ground, she gasped loudly. The entire ground beneath her feet was stained red. The statue of Sankta Anastasia wept tears of blood, and these seeped into the soil, staining everything around her with the hue of the self-sacrifice made by the beautiful red-haired girl living in Tsemna.

"How is this possible…" Alina said to herself, approaching the monument. Her fingers literally sparkled with electrifying energy, drawing her forward. "This is a miracle," she whispered, remembering reading about it in the "Lives of the Saints," but she had never truly lingered on the legend.

"It was Lizaveta who made the statue weep with Anastasia's blood," Aleksander spoke, somewhat rousing the future queen of Ravka from her brief reverie. "It happened a long time ago, but she also had a hand in it."

The Sun Summoner sighed, taking a few steps forward. She held out her hand, her fingertips millimeters from touching the stone's surface.

The Darkling approached her, studying her closely.

"Do you know the history of Sankta Anastasia, milaya?" he asked, reaching for her hand and intertwining their fingers. The girl shook her head.

"No, but I'd really like to listen to it,” she confessed, not understanding why everything inside her was practically screaming for her to touch the miraculous statue.

"Anastasia lived here with her elderly father. Her remarkable beauty was the subject of gossip for many of the villagers," The Black General continued his story, lightly squeezing Alina's hand. “But this young woman spent her whole time on lighting candles in memory of her mother and tending to her father. When the wasting plague struck South Ravka and her only living parent fell ill, Anastasia prayed to the Saints. She cut her arm and filled a dish with her own blood, then fed it to her closest relative. One of their servants saw the man instantly recover from his disease, and soon the whole town heard of Anastasia's healing abilities. Against her father's will, his daughter gave her blood to anyone who asked, and everyone who drank from the dishes was healed. The girl was placed in a cart and carried around from village to village, healing those who were so ill they could not come to her. Once she had no more blood left to give, in Arkesk, her body became a husk carried away on the wind," Aleksander stopped his story, and a strange melancholy appeared in his voice.

Alina felt an inexplicable tightness in her chest, unable to even explain why this story moved her so much.

“So Anastasia was one of the Healers?” she asked, thrusting her free hand even further forward and placing it ever closer to the bloody monument.

“No, she was Alkemi,” the Darkling explained, and just as he did, The Sun Summoner’s fingertips brushed the rock.

And then the girl held her breath, feeling dizzy.

“Alya?” The Black General spoke to her, concerned about the sudden stiffening of her muscles. “Is everything alright?” he asked.

“I… I was here, Sasha,” the girl whispered, a slight shiver running through her body.

Aleksander quickly wrapped his arm around her waist, afraid she would stumble.

“When?” he asked her, perhaps fearing this was another of Ilya’s tricks. “During the civil war?” His velvety voice held a hint of tension.

But The Summoner shook her head, realizing that everything around her had begun to transform. The world had lost all its sharpness, losing all its contours. The place looked exactly the same as it did now, but instead of the still-green grass, the ground was covered with a thick layer of snow. It was so cold that her breath hung like steam in the air. Alina peeked her small nose out from behind her father's thick sheepskin coat, as he held her close to his chest, never slowing down for a moment.

"They'll get us!" cried a beautiful woman with southern features, glancing around. It was undeniable that she wasn't from Ravka. She looked like a typical Shu Han woman, but she was blessed with exceptional beauty and a slender, straight figure. She had high cheekbones and thick black hair, between which golden beads were woven. Her black eyes were almond-shaped, and the lovely shape of her eyebrows suggested her high birth. "You must take Alina away from here, Dimitriy, I beg you on my life," the stranger pleaded to him, approaching the statue to lean against it.

It turned out that the entire lower half of her dark dress was smeared with blood. The red substance seeped from the wound on her lower abdomen, running down her thighs and knees.

"Savangerel!" the girl's father cried, finally running to her. The woman had already sunk to the ground, resting her head against the base of the statue. "Don't do this to me, I beg you on everything!"

But she only smiled weakly. She struggled to reach out to the small face peeking out from behind her husband's sheepskin coat, at least to touch it with her fingertips.

"Take care of her, Dimitriy," she pleaded, tears glistening in her eyes. "Sometimes I regret being born an Inferni. As a Healer, I could have done more good," she whispered, the flame of her life fading ever further.

"As a Heartrender, I can try to stem your bleeding a little, my dear, until we reach some settlement and ask around for a healer." Alina's father no longer hid his emotions, which manifested themselves in thin, salty drops that trickled down his cheeks.

But Savangerel shook her head weakly, gritting her teeth.

"No, Dimitriy, I'll just slow you down. They're already hot on our heels, and if they find us, they'll take Alina," the bleeding woman said, wincing in pain.

But the girl's father had no intention of giving up.

"I cannot let you die here, my beloved! What will I do without you? And what will our master say to all this?" The man could not come to terms with the loss that had surpassed all his understanding.

"Take Alina back to the master," his beloved pleaded, pressing her cheek ever closer to the stone surface. "But first, burn my body. I beg you."

Dimitriy's eyes widened in shock as rebellion ignited them from within with an inner glow. The man began to shake his head from side to side, as if refusing to accept what had just been asked of him.

With the last of her strength, Savarengel created a small flame of fire in her hand. It illuminated everything around her with a pale glow as she stretched her other palm out in front of her, reaching for the girl.

"Let me touch my daughter for a last time," she pleaded, trying to sit a little more steadily so as not to collapse completely to the ground. "Please."

Alina's father continued to sob. He crouched down, however, approaching the dying woman, revealing the fold of his sheepskin coat and allowing her to touch the baby. As soon as Savarengel's fingers brushed her forehead, the infant's skin glowed with a luminous light. Her mother smiled faintly, and a trickle of blood seeped from the corner of her mouth. And then Inferni's face became filled with terror again. A realization dawned on her, so she withdrew her hand, glancing around in the darkness.

"You must take her away, Dimitriy," she told him. "And you must burn my body. Promise me you will."

Alina felt herself being tucked under the fold of her jacket again. Only her small nose, mouth, and eye peeked out to allow her to breathe freely.

"But how could I do that?" the man protested again, grabbing Savarengel's hand and trying to heal her. Unfortunately, despite Heartrender's strength, only a Healer could deal with such a large wound. Dimitriy's beloved was fading, and the distance to the next village was too great to transport her there in time.

"But Anmei…" the man denied, still trying to heal the injured woman.

"Her name is Alina, don't forget that," Savarengel reminded him weakly. "And she's already cursed. Don't let my death weigh on her, my love. Take her to the master, but burn my body. You can't be sure what that man would do to me if he found out where my remains were," she pleaded. "Promise me this, Dima. Promise."

The infant's father released his beloved's hand and nodded. The dying Inferni smiled, then closed her eyes, never to open them again.

The surroundings around Alina began to change. The world was taking on outlines and clarity, even though dusk was already falling, and the last rays of the setting sun behind the dense forest were fading, giving way to the darkness of night. Someone was holding her in his arms, brushing the locks of hair from her forehead. The girl opened her eyes, discovering it was Aleksander, who was pale and staring at her in horror. She lifted her head from his lap, pushing herself up to a sitting position. She immediately placed her hand on his cheek, trying to calm him. His facial features had softened somewhat, but he still looked as if he had just experienced something terrifying.

"I saw my mother, Sasha," Alina told him, and his eyes widened, his hand steadying her back.

"What?" he asked, carefully studying her face for the answers she had yet to give him.

"She…" The Sun Summoner hesitated as something tightened in her chest. "She died here."

The Darkling looked at her intensely, as if letting her finish.

"My mother was an Inferni, Sasha," she told him, remembering her pale face with its aristocratic features and the thin trickle of blood seeping from between her lips. "She was from Shu Han, and although my father tried to save her, she was gravely injured. Her dying wish was for me to be returned to your grandfather. My mother specifically requested it," the future queen of Ravka said, removing her hand from The Black General's cheek and signaling to him that she wanted him to help her up, which he gladly did.

"And what does Ilya have to do with this?" Aleksander asked her, even though he knew it perfectly well. Perhaps he needed to make sure he and Alina had always been mere puppets in his ancestor's hands. And The Sun Summoner understood this well, because she had the exact same impression.

"My mother was a living amplifier, Sasha," the girl added, letting a lone tear slide down her cheek.

The Darkling clenched his fists, narrowing his eyes angrily.

"He planned it all..." he said, more to himself, grappling with the weight of this new information.

"Sasha?" Alina asked him weakly, approaching him and hugging his chest tightly.

The Black General shook off his dark thoughts, perhaps guessing the negative impact they could have on his Sun Summoner. He put his arm around her, placing his hand on her head and stroking her hair.

"Yes, milaya?" he asked, allowing her to find solace in his embrace.

"Just take me home," she begged him, never letting go.

He kissed the top of her head, and his embrace tightened even more.

"I will, Alya," he promised her, kissing her again. "I will."

***

Alina sighed heavily, running her hand over the velvet sheets she was sitting on. She hadn't thought she'd missed Os Kervo so much, but it felt good to be able to call a place her safe haven. Perhaps it wasn't the specific location at all, but the people who made it her home. Here, she and Aleksander lived their own lives. Here, their principles reigned supreme, and the rottenness of the Ravkan monarchy failed to reach them.

But there was one thing the girl couldn't forget. What had happened on the way back to West Ravka stuck in her mind, constantly lingering in the back of her mind. Her mother, not the one she remembered from her hazy memories when she had been a few years old, constantly moving from one place to another with her father and his wife. But the one who must have truly given her life, and who had been then killed when Alina was still a baby. The Sun Summoner couldn't shake the image of her mother's eyes, gazing into hers with tenderness and a desire to keep her safe. And most importantly, both her parents were Grisha, and her mother, on top of that, turned out to be a living amplifier. Was that why her daughter possessed such unusual powers? Did it explain the uniqueness of her abilities and their compatibility with Aleksander?

The Darkling had gotten to work almost immediately after they returned to Os Kervo. He had instructed Genya to let Alina rest for a while, then immediately come check on her. His overprotectiveness had entered new, uncharacteristic territory. He himself was no longer even discreet about it. The closer The Sun Summoner got to giving birth, the more obvious the concern everyone close to her became about her health. She would never have guessed Aleksander possessed such a trait. For someone so introverted, in aspects like this, he proved remarkably determined and effusive. His worry was unlike anything other people would consider typical caring. It brought to mind a somewhat possessive devotion, bearing the hallmarks of the Darkling's nature in other aspects of his life as well. Because he bottled up all his emotions, when he finally released them, they became incredibly intense and suffocating. But Alina no longer feared this, because it made her feel special. The awareness of being the object of attention from someone who could intoxicate you with the intensity of their feelings made her feel wanted and that she would always remain so. Compared to Mal, the difference seemed colossal. The girl thanked The Making for regaining her sanity; otherwise, she would have continued her immortal life in humiliation and degradation.

The future queen of Ravka couldn't stop thinking about something else either. She wondered how her real mother had ended up at the statue of Sankta Anastasia, and whether there was perhaps some connection between her and the holy martyr. Had Savangerel been making a pilgrimage to Tsemna for a specific purpose? Had she arrived there by chance, fleeing those who hated Grisha? Or perhaps Ilya Morozova had sent her there? And why had her mother ordered her to be returned to Aleksander's ancestor? Had she done it out of concern for her daughter, or out of blind devotion to her master?

Alina wiped a lone tear from her cheek and had an idea. She moved across the bed toward the nightstand, opening a drawer and pulling out a copy of "Lives of the Saints." She decided to read a little more about Sankta Anastasia, perhaps finding some parallels in her life story to what she herself was struggling with.

The Sun Summoner opened the thick volume borrowed from The Apparat and began leafing through it page by page. Finally, she found the passage she was looking for. A red-haired girl appeared in an engraving with her wrists slit open. She was incredibly beautiful and was depicted surrounded by the sick, who placed bowls beneath her hands to draw her saving blood. Anastasia had become a true martyr. She had continued to help until her body shriveled to a crisp. She had never wavered. She had always helped those in need and died a glorious death as a life-giver for those afflicted by the wasting plague.

Alina touched her engraving with her index finger and closed her eyes. When she finally opened them, the temperature in the room had dropped several degrees. A shiver ran through the future queen of Ravka, and it didn't take long to discover what had caused it.

Ilya Morozova was sitting across from her, his unnaturally long fingers resting on his robes at knee height. He watched her as he always did from beneath his hood, and though a cold shiver ran down her spine, she didn't move, wanting to show him that his ghostly presence no longer affected her.

"I see you're slowly beginning to uncover your past, Anmei," he told her in his chilling voice.

The Sun Summoner tilted her head up, refusing to be trapped in his games again.

"What do you want from me again?" she asked, doing her best to keep her voice devoid of any emotion.

Morozova shook her head slightly, and the fingers on his lap twitched, reminiscent of a predator's claws.

"You're ungrateful, child," Aleksander's ancestor remarked, clearly displeased with what his ward had become. "If I hadn't saved your mother when she was still a little girl, you wouldn't even have come into this world," the ancient Grisha commented, as if proclaiming a well-known fact to all and sundry.

But Alina bit her lower lip, ready to face him with the weapons of memories she'd regained a few days ago during their stopover in Tsemna.

"My mother died, but she tried to prove to the end that you didn't have her body. She ordered it burned, because she didn't want you to commit another atrocity and implicate me," she replied arrogantly, feeling her hands begin to tremble slightly from the emotions she was now feeling.

But the corner of Ilya Morozova's mouth quirked upward, as if he hadn't heard such nonsense in a long time.

"Oh, you're wrong, Anmei. Savangerel was simply afraid of her bones being stolen. You can call it a body worship, or plain waste. I leave that to your judgment," said Aleksander's ancestor, withdrawing his hands slightly and intertwining his fingers at thigh level.

"So she feared exactly the same thing as your grandson," the future queen of Ravka reminded her interlocutor, trying to straighten slightly so she could meet his intense gaze with as much pride as possible.

"Savangerel did it rather for your sake," Morozova stated, convinced of the truth of his own words. "She was always very devoted to me, but she got it into her head that if she died, I would use her bones to amplify your power. Apparently, her motherly devotion to you proved greater than her loyalty to me," he replied, tilting his head slightly to the side to observe The Sun Summoner from a slightly different angle.

"That's because she knew you'd take advantage of me," Alina observed, feeling a single tear escape from beneath her eyelid and trickle down her cheek.

"Of course she did, Anmei," the ancient Grisha confirmed her suspicions. "But Savangerel also knew that I would find you anyway. And that it would be better for you if I took care of you than for you to fall into the hands of the Fjerdans or those monsters from Shu Han," he added, his voice so icy that the temperature in the bedroom dropped a few more degrees.

"Why didn't you send me to The Little Palace right away?" the future queen of Ravka asked, voicing a question that had been troubling her for a long time. "If you wanted me to meet with Aleksander, why did you wait so long?"

Ilya seemed a little surprised. It was hard to tell with someone like him, but he undoubtedly hadn't expected to be asked such a question, as he stiffened slightly.

"Because my grandson wasn't ready for it," he simply said, adding nothing more.

"Wasn't ready for it?" Alina echoed, thinking he was referring to her. Now, however, she was learning that it wasn't her who mattered, but the Darkling.

"You naive child," Morozova said through his teeth, deliberately drawing out each word. "I wanted my grandson to fall in love with you, not raise another obedient soldier."

The girl stiffened slightly, shifting back in her bed.

"What?" she stammered, another tear escaping from beneath her eyelid, dripping down her cheek.

"Anmei," the ancestor of The Black General replied. "You're not just The Sun Summoner, tasked with destroying the Shadow Fold. Because destroying it was utterly foolish. Your mission from the start was quite different. Your only task was to balance my grandson," Ilya stated, not even trying to show he cared.

Alina was shaking all over. She suspected she had simply become a tool in the hands of a madman, but the realization still pained her deeply. It wasn't about the Darkling, nor about herself. The girl rejoiced every day that she had managed to mend their relationship, for she loved no one else and would never again bestow her love upon anyone else. But the fact that the Shadow Summoner's ancestor had controlled all of this seemed utterly unbelievable and unreal. From the beginning, nothing had depended on her, and she existed solely to fulfill someone else's destiny, not her own.

"Why is this so important?" she asked, tightening her fingers on the satin fabric of the bed she was sitting on.

And then Ilya Morozova's gaze fell on the rounded belly of the future queen of Ravka. He himself wouldn't have needed to add anything more. His eyes lit with a flame of madness that spoke volumes about his intentions.

"Just think, Anmei," he replied, smiling again at the corner of his thin lips. "Just think." And with that, the Darkling's ancestor suddenly extended his hand, touching the one of The Sun Summoner's.

Alina opened her eyes as an indescribable pain tore through her lower abdomen. It was so intense that she began to sob loudly, feeling the cramps driving her insane. It felt as if her insides were being pulled downward, unable to release their contents from its grip. The girl began to cry, because something told her that something she feared most in the world was about to happen. Were these labor pains? Were these unbearable agonies a sign that her twins were being born, two and a half months premature? The thought brought her back to consciousness despite the agony she felt. If Ilya Morozova had initiated her labor, it had happened far too soon. There was no way her children could survive, coming into this world so early. Or perhaps that was what this monster had intended. Perhaps he wanted to destroy his grandson, just as he had his entire family?

"Alina!" Aleksander leaned over her, gently patting her cheek. Their gazes met, even though she herself was gazing at him as if through a fog. Her beloved was deathly pale, his eyes wild. "Genya!" he called loudly after a moment, glancing around. "Help me!"

The future queen of Ravka heard her distraught friend, though she still couldn't see her face through the haze of suffering.

"Sir, I don't know if I'm strong enough to..." The Tailor lamented, but the Darkling wouldn't even hear of it.

"It's much too early, Genya!" he growled at her, simultaneously trying to place a pillow under The Sun Summoner's neck.

"I know, sir," Alina's red-haired friend confirmed, and there was no doubt she must have been crying, as her voice was breaking terribly.

"I will amplify you!" Aleksander ordered her, turning his face back slightly for a moment, filled with fear and madness.

"But sir, you never..." The Tailor began, but The Black General wasn't even listening.

“Let’s try it now, Genya!” he repeated, and the girl felt someone crouch down beside her, as a blurry storm of red curls emerged from behind the haze of pain.

And then relief washed over Alina almost instantly. A wave of relief filled her from the inside, soothing her. The contractions began to subside, becoming a mere pulsation. The vision before The Sun Summoner gradually came into focus. Her breathing slowed, and the cold sweat on her forehead, instead of beading as it had moments before, settled into a normal temperature.

“Sasha,” she said, even trying to push herself up onto her elbows.

But he gently touched her shoulders, motioning for her to lie still.

“Thanks to The Making,” The Black General said with obvious relief, placing both hands on Alina’s cheeks. “How are you feeling, milaya?” She herself could have sworn Aleksander's eyes were slightly glazed.

"I'm good," she confessed truthfully, even smiling slightly.

And then the Darkling remembered something. He turned his head toward the still pale Genya, who was sitting beside them on the edge of the bed. He looked at her somewhat calmly, finally appreciating what she had done for them both.

"Thank you, Genya," he said, looking at her much more gently than before. "Now, please, leave us alone," he ordered, and The Tailor immediately rose from the bed.

"Yes, General," she replied, giving Alina a gentle look and then bowing to the Darkling.

A few seconds later, her footsteps echoed down the hallway as she walked away toward her and David's quarters.

Aleksander helped his precious girl sit down on the bed. Without even waiting for him to say anything, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest. She could hear his heart still beating too fast as adrenaline filled his veins. A moment later, however, he was hugging her back, and The Sun Summoner realized how relieved he was that it had been only a false alarm for now.

"Sasha…" the future queen of Ravka began, but she had no desire to pull away. "I saw him."

The Black General stiffened noticeably. He didn't respond, though, which made Alina realize he'd guessed who she was talking about.

"We need to find him," the girl added, understanding that one day it might be too late for Genya, or anyone else who was a far more skilled Healer than she, to intervene. "If you weren't here now…" she began, and he relaxed his shoulders, pushing her away slightly.

"From now on, someone will always be keeping an eye on you. Even while I'm working," he promised her, and a look of determination spread across his face that clearly indicated he'd already made up his mind. "I'll have Genya and David moved to the adjacent quarters."

Alina lowered her gaze to her lap, feeling the need to ask something else. It was a very sensitive subject, and she herself liked it when she mentioned things that caused the Darkling suffering.

"Did you... really amplify Genya's power, Sasha? Even though you never do this?" she assured herself, gathering the courage to look him in the eye and discovering that he was looking back at her.

His expression was enigmatic, and for a moment, The Sun Summoner regretted asking about it. Ever since she had learned certain details about The Black General's past, she realized how many different traumas he had accumulated. Even as a child, they had tried to kill him for his bones. Meanwhile, Aleksander had now used his amplifying abilities on another Grisha, whereas until now, Alina had been the only person he had amplified.

"It was the only solution I could think of," the Darkling explained, though his expression remained unreadable. "And I can only be grateful that it worked."

"But…" The Sun Summoner began, but he interrupted her, reaching for her hand.

"Alya, don't think about it. If necessary, I'll do it again," he assured her, lightly squeezing her hand.

The girl smiled faintly, swallowing her own emotion.

"Unfortunately, I don't think your ancestor will leave us alone until you find him, Aleksander," she said, then lowered her gaze. "He thinks the answer is hidden in your memories. I'm scared, Sasha. I…" she whispered, feeling tears welling up behind her eyelids again. "I can't lose them."

The Darkling gently tilted her chin up, looking into her eyes.

"Me too," he confessed, his dark irises burning with determination. "And that's why I will find Ilya. And when I finally do, he will regret it bitterly," he assured her, then leaned forward to gently press their lips together.

***

The Black General didn't even react when someone knocked on the door of the hut where his squad had stopped after tracking down Alina, who had escaped from The Little Palace, along with her pathetic companion. Aleksander was sitting in his chair, staring blankly ahead. He longed to let the boy bleed to death from the arrow wounds he'd received after trying to show off his youthful bravado, but above all else, he valued his own honor and his determination to always keep his word. A sense of disappointment seemed to dull his senses, filling his mind with a fog of disappointment. The betrayal stung so deeply that it somewhat surprised him. The Darkling could tell himself all sorts of things, but fooling himself into thinking Alina was indifferent to him would do no good. Now he couldn't decide whether he was more jealous or disappointed that his Little Saint had fled without even confronting him. Baghra had already paid for it, though in this case, it could almost be considered a favor. Now that Tsar Pyotr had been poisoned, the monarchy's supporters would begin to turn away from Grisha, as they always had when that tenuous alliance was cracking at the seams. His mother would be safe where no one could find her. The Black General could and should punish her, but instead, he had once again taken care of her safety. Perhaps he was a fool, since everyone he cared about stabbed him in the back. Perhaps he should have been cruel, as expected of him. The problem was, he probably couldn't. He cared too much for Alina, and therefore secretly hoped he could reason with her. The Shadow Summoner didn't want to force her. But if he had no other choice, he would have to. She would forgive him someday, but Ravka might fall. Time would offer him understanding from his precious girl, but it wouldn't bring back the lives of all the Ravkans who might have fallen in this war. Alina had captured a part of his heart the Black General hadn't even known he possessed. The thought of possibly breaking it was deeply debilitating. But if his Sun Summoner truly cared about the well-being of all Grisha, she would surely understand that one day. Otherwise, the Darkling would consider her betrayal of him to have been in vain. And he refused to accept that. Not when he had opened up to her and realized that he saw his eternity solely with her.

The knock on the door sounded again. Aleksander frowned angrily, gripping the desk he was sitting at. He was in no mood to talk to anyone, not even Ivan. Above all, however, he had a duty to his homeland. And his shattered soul or bleeding heart couldn't obscure what had always been the driving force of his existence.

"Come in!" the Darkling called, not even rising from his chair.

Only his most trusted soldiers had gone with him on this expedition, so whoever it was, it was one of the carefully selected subordinates, of whose loyalty The Shadow Summoner seemed still convinced.

The door opened with a soft creak, and a gust of cold air entered the hut along with his guest. Aleksander ignored it completely, waiting for this person to finally approach him.

"Moi Soverenyi," Zoya greeted him, stopping near his chair. She wore a padded kefta and a fur hat, and her cheeks were slightly flushed from the cold outside. "I have come to tell you that The Tracker is healed, as you requested."

The Darkling nodded absently, pushing aside the sheets of paper in front of him, which were letters relating to the new tensions in West Ravka. Time was ticking away, and he had no choice but to hasten the confrontation with Zlatan. The Grisha were once again fearing for their lives in that part of the country, and if The Black General didn't do something about it now, the situation would spiral out of control.

"Good," he told Zoya without even looking at her. Ever since the Squaller had come to him before leaving The Little Palace to express her doubts about Alina's escape, Aleksander had tried to keep their contact to an absolute minimum. He was now preoccupied with far more pressing matters than the supposed jealousy of the dark-haired Etherealki, with whom he had never truly had any connection. It was becoming too tiring, and The Shadow Summoner had no intention of investing his energy in it. The other girl was completely absorbing his attention, firmly entrenched in his consciousness and heart. "Order him to be kept under lock and key, and under no circumstances released until I have confronted Miss Starkov."

Zoya was silent for a moment, leading the Darkling to suspect she might be awaiting further orders. Meanwhile, when he glanced at her briefly, he realized she was still standing in the same position, frowning and appearing to want to add something more.

"Anything else, Zoya?" The Black General asked, his voice growing impatient. He was already mentally preparing himself for what would happen in a few hours and didn't want to be distracted by mundane matters.

The Squaller nodded, then said, "Frankly, yes, moi Soverenyi."

The Shadow Summoner leaned back in his chair, giving her a suggestive look.

"Are you planning to give Alina Starkov such a powerful amplifier, sir?" she asked, her mask slipping slightly. Her intentions were becoming increasingly clear, even though her commander wasn't about to offer her any explanation.

"Yes. That's one of the conditions for getting inside The Fold," he replied, giving her an impatient look. "Don't be silly, Zoya, you know how the amplifier works," he replied, placing his clasped hands on his lower abdomen.

But regret and open jealousy now flickered in the dark-haired Etherealki's eyes.

"You want to give a powerful amplifier to a traitor, sir?" she asked him, as if dictating terms. "While others who serve you faithfully…" she trailed off as Aleksander narrowed his eyes at her.

"My decisions are not up for debate, Zoya. I expect you to follow my orders, not ask questions," he ground out, in no mood to be lectured, especially by someone who was supposed to obey him completely, as she had been given the honor of participating in this mission. "If you have no other pressing matters, you may leave now. And please tell David to hurry with the antlers," the Darkling ordered her, then completely lost interest in her, devoting all his attention to the correspondence he had been reading moments earlier.

"Sir," Zoya said, not moving at all. Aleksander was growing increasingly impatient. "Alina Starkov should die. In my opinion, you trust the wrong person. A traitor to all of Ravka. You should kill her, not yet plan how to give her an amplifier."

The Black General slowly rose from his seat. His hands clenched into fists to keep his righteous anger contained within his body rather than escaping. The man took a few steps forward, approaching Zoya and standing face to face, looking down into her eyes.

"If anyone dies here, it certainly won't be Alina," he warned her, feeling an inexplicable dislike and contempt for her. "And she better not harm a hair on her head, or I'll know where to look for the culprits," he added, and the dark-haired Squaller opened her mouth, then quickly closed it.

The Shadow Summoner glanced at her once more, shaking his head slightly, then turned away from her and returned to his chair, completely losing any interest in her.

The new Regent of West Ravka snapped out of his unwanted memories, quickening his pace. His feet were taking long strides as he marched down the narrow corridor, splashing small puddles as his shoes fell. Water dripping from the dungeon ceiling occasionally dripped onto his face, rousing him from his brief reverie.

So many problems had fallen on his shoulders at once, and he wondered how to reconcile it all without neglecting one thing over another. Ilya was keeping him awake at night, especially after what had happened yesterday with Alina. From that moment on, Aleksander, already suffering from insomnia, literally hadn’t slept a wink. He ordered Genya and David to move to the wing of The Summer Palace occupied by him and his precious girl. The Black General wouldn't have focused on his work if he wasn't sure someone would always be by his Sun Summoner's side, ready to call him in time if any complications arose. The Darkling knew he would have to devote himself to searching for his ancestor, and any day now. The Tailor was one of the few people Aleksander could trust enough to amplify her healing powers again in the event of an incident. This was the only exception The Shadow Summoner even considered as an option. The gesture had already cost him dearly. It hadn't come easily, but he wouldn't hesitate if he had to save his family again. His mental state was a secondary concern. What truly mattered were his precious girl and their future children.

Now, however, another urgent matter awaited him. Aleksander needed to speak with the person who, out of a thirst for revenge, had most likely brought doom upon the entire kingdom. The Darkling had no illusions that Zoya was to blame for all this, but he was interested in what she had gained. A broken heart might be a valid argument, but it still wasn't enough to risk one's life, simply because one had been rejected by a man. For what the dark-haired Etherealki had done, royal law sentenced her to death by hanging. Therefore, her motivations had to justify it at least a little. And the new Regent of West Ravka was eager to determine what had driven Nazyalensky to such a risk.

The Black General finally reached the heavily guarded cell, where Ivan was already waiting for him. His Colonel bowed before him, to which he himself nodded in greeting.

"Let's get to work," he announced, then waited until the oprichniki parted the iron bars at the entrance and let them in so they could begin interrogating the prisoner placed there.

The Darkling was aware that Zoya had undergone a procedure that allowed her to conceal information she didn't want to share. However, Ivan was still capable of stopping her heart or using other forms of coercion. That's why Aleksander conducted all serious interrogations with him. The mere knowledge that The Heartrender was in the same room as the prisoner acted as a perfect incentive for confiding.

The Black General slowly approached The Squaller, who was sitting on a stone bench, looking down at her. The brunette glared at him with hatred, yet didn't turn her face away. One could get the impression she had been expecting this visit and was prepared for it.

"How's your cut finger doing, Nazyalensky?" The Shadow Summoner asked her, standing with his legs slightly apart and his hands clasped behind his back.

An inner fire ignited in the dark-haired Etherealki's eyes.

"You twisted monster, you are back," she said through gritted teeth, not breaking their eye contact.

Aleksander smiled from the corner of his mouth, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"I must admit, your lover had a very successful wedding," he replied, carefully watching for a specific reaction from Nazyalensky.

Something in her face seemed to twitch, because this was probably not what she had expected. The Shadow Summoner's words suggested that the ceremony had gone smoothly, and that was probably not what The Squaller was aiming for.

"How lovely," she commented, saying nothing more for the time being.

The Darkling shook his head slightly, feigning regret and disappointment over what had happened during Nikolai's wedding to Ehri Kir-Taban.

"Yes, Nazyalensky," he said, pulling his hands from behind his back and intertwining his fingers in front of him. "Everything would actually be quite charming if someone hadn't poisoned the ceremonial wine the newlyweds were to drink. Do you happen to know anything about that?" he asked her, tapping the fingertips of one hand against the other.

The Squaller remained silent, and not a muscle in her face moved.

"I heard you've been authorized to enter the royal treasury. You must admit, this brings suspicion upon you," Aleksander told her, feigning concern.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Zoya replied curtly, giving him a dismissive look.

"Well, you had a motive, Nazyalensky," the Darkling stated in a nonchalant tone, as if discussing a completely mundane matter.

"That's your theory," The Squaller commented, leaning comfortably back against the cell wall.

Aleksander Morozova stopped smiling. Anyone who knew him even a little, or had dealt with him before, knew this was a very bad sign.

"What did you really need samples of our jurda parem antidote for?" he asked, taking a step forward to close the distance between him and the dark-haired Etherealki.

"Unfortunately, you're imagining things again, General. Your obsession has truly gone completely over your head," Zoya commented, this time not hiding the hatred in her gaze.

The Darkling took another step forward, his heavy boot almost trampling The Squaller's foot.

"There's someone who doesn't like that Ravka has an antidote to this filth, because they need our Fabrikators to craft their winged monsters," he remarked, his eyes narrowing back into two thin slits.

Nazyalensky blinked slightly, the first sign that she hadn't expected anyone to connect her to this case so quickly.

"And what does this have to do with me, General?" she asked, tilting her head up to continue pretending she didn't know what he was talking about.

But Aleksander Morozova had come here for a specific purpose, and he wouldn't leave this cell until he learned the truth. And since he valued his time and didn't like wasting it, he decided to make things clear.

"I believe it was you who poisoned the royal wine, Zoya Nazyalensky," he stated, crushing her with the force of his gaze. "And it was also you who stole our antidote samples and gave them to Empress Makhi, wasn't it?"

To Be Continued

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