Chapter Text

Chapter 6

The next morning, she was first examined by Katya again, and when she had deemed Alina’s health as adequate to travel, accompanied her downstairs, and bundled her up in the carriage. The same carriage that many months ago had instilled some awe, and maybe even fear in her in Kribirsk, was now the one transporting her to the safety of the Little Palace. Thinking about it, and what all had changed in her life in the last months, Alina was grateful to get out of the room she had been cooped in for two days and sink into the comfortable cushions of the carriage. She might not have thought it possible back then in Kribirsk, when the carriage had taken her towards Os Alta for the first time, but now the Little Palace had become home to her. More than Keramzin ever was. 

Aleksander had chosen not to ride, but to go in the carriage with her, Katya was there as well, even though she changed to riding at some point. Ivan on the other hand stayed in the carriage with them, and he and Aleksander were doing administrative work. How they were able to write letters and go over some plans in the moving carriage was beyond Alina. Sure, she had been able to draw a bit when she had been on the road with the cartographers, but any kind of reading or writing had made her feel sick to her stomach. 

At the beginning, Alina mostly observed the landscape passing from the inside and everyone else let her be in peace. She had not seen much of the world, even of Ravka, and she had surely never been this far North before. So, Alina soaked up the view of the snow-covered landscape, of the wide, white plains where the mountain range of the Petrazoi only loomed in the far, far distance. Maybe she could paint it later, catch the image of herds of deer moving at a distance, of the clear-blue sky that made the snow glistened, and the ice on the trees look like something out of a fairy tale. 

The journey itself went fine, a lot faster and more comfortable than the journey away from the Little Palace. In a way, it was a strange repeat of her first journey to Os Alta. The Darkling’s carriage, Ivan and Fedyor by her side again, and guards accompanying them. Aleksander was the only thing that did not mimic this parallelism. His eyes were watching her when he did not bury himself in important documents; whenever he thought she was distracted, Alina felt his gaze on her, but whenever she caught him looking at her, when she turned her head to catch his gaze, he looked away and pretended not to have done it. She was no better, but at least she did not pretend to be. Next to the landscape, Aleksander was the thing she observed the most in the carriage. 

Whenever Fedyor was riding with them, and he caught Alina’s gaze toward his General, there was a smirk on his lips. After the first few times when he had caught her in the act, Alina had tried to stop it, but it could not be helped. Her eyes seemed to have a mind of their own. 

But mostly she slept, sometimes Alina chatted with her travel mates. Mostly Fedyor, who attempted to put her at ease, telling her some stories about his family. He had three sisters and an army of nieces and nephews, it seemed. He was Alina’s preferred partner for conversation in the carriage when he was not laughing at her for looking at Aleksander.  Ivan had never been a great talker, even though he seemed to try this time – unlike the last carriage ride she shared with them. Aleksander barely spoke to her, even though he watched her a lot. He also helped her when her body was too weak to keep up, always there to offer his arm to her when the carriage stopped, and they got off for a moment or for the night. Alina also suspected that it was his decision to stop every night in a town, so that she could rest in a bed and did not have to sleep in the carriage or on the ground. 

Alina appreciated his concern, but it also annoyed her when she realized what he was doing. She was not fragile, she had served in the First Army before, she was used to conditions such as these. But after the first day, the annoyance had made way for some milder indignation. As her body was still aching, she could not help but appreciate the care Aleksander showed to her.

It was on the third day of travelling that Alina noticed something odd. Ivan had briefed Aleksander about a lot of things going on at the Grand and Little Palace, the Second Army and some campaign, but they seemed to avoid speaking about anything concerning the night of her kidnapping. 

No mention of the bombs, the damage to the building, the terror she had seen with the children and the other older Grisha. Not even explicit mentions of the Royal Family, her presentation at court, or the tsar’s endless commands and opinions about everything and everyone. From what she had seen, Alina was sure that tsar Pyotr had many things to say about her kidnapping. 

When the conversation had lulled down a bit, Alina took her chance to interject. “There are many things already demanding your attention, are there not, General Kirigan?” 

“Indeed, Miss Starkova. A general’s work is never done.” The smile did not reach his eyes, his mind was still elsewhere. Alina was sure of that. 

“So, what about the Little Palace? Are there many repairs to be done with the explosions and the fire? Is everyone alright after what happened?” 

This surely had the attention of the whole carriage. Fedyor, who had dozed in the corner a bit, but also Ivan were suddenly looking at her with a certain alarm in their eyes. And Aleksander? Once more, Alina found it difficult to ascertain what he thought. 

“The Little Palace is already being rebuilt by our finest fabricators. The damages sustained in that attack were, thankfully, easy to rebuild. In fact, one of the letters I have received today is from David Kostyk, who reports the progress that was made during our absence.” Aleksander was short and to the point, but Alina noticed that he was only answering half of her question. 

This was something, but still, there was something else missing. Alina could not really explain it, it was more of a gut feeling than anything else, but the way he – but also Ivan, Fedyor and Katya – had been treating her, had only skimmed over news from the Little Palace, had skipped over anything more serious and deflected her questions? Alina was sure that there was something they were not telling her. She had not really noticed it at the beginning, when they were still at that inn, she was too exhausted and too focused on other things, but now in the close confinement of the carriage and the non-stop presence of people around her, it was noticeable. There was something they were not telling her. And no one would if Aleksander would not start. Alina was sure of that. 

“Is everyone alright? I know that two of your oprichniki had helped me accompany some of the children out into the courtyard. There was so much chaos in there that night, I saw quite a few injured…,” The memories of the evening were deeply intertwined with the joy of the Winter Fête and the spectacular kiss they had shared, but also her kidnapping and the pain that had started from there. Alina could not suppress a shudder. That night was surely not only for her a memorable one. And not in the best way. “… I just hope no one was badly injured that night.” She knew that they had noticed her discomfort, but it was what it was. Hopefully, her travel companions were polite enough to ignore it. 

But after her second question, Alina’s suspicions about something being kept from her only deepened. She would have needed to be blind to miss the covert glances that were exchanged between Ivan and Fedyor, and the way Ivan harrumphed and looked at Aleksander. Something had happened. 

Some uncomfortable shuffling later, and some more imploring looks from Ivan and Aleksander murmured a “Later,” in her direction. And the silence that had, so far, been companionable turned sour and oppressing now. The lighter mood from before had made way to something else. Fedyor’s conversation with her ceased and the other two were only speaking in hushed tones, still loud enough for Alina to understand almost every word, but it seemed like Aleksander and Ivan very much wanted not to be disturbed for now. 

Later , he had said. Later. But what was later? So, Alina endured the overbearing silence and went back to observing the landscape that flew by. 

But an unidentifiable sense of dread was already beginning to build in the pit of her stomach. 

Later, it seemed, was in the evening, when they had stopped in another small hamlet at an inn. Aleksander had handed her out of the carriage, and for a moment Alina was tempted to be petty and deny it, to get down the three steps herself. But she knew her body was still weak, and she had needed some support before when getting on and off. And she also knew that while she was angry with Aleksander, she did not want to reject him in any way. Not if there was still some sliver of hope for something more between them. 

Dinner, in a separate room that had been requested by probably Ivan, was awkward as well. At least, that was Alina’s impression. The coachmen and oprichniki did not seem to realize it, but a few of the Grisha had picked up on the strange mood between their General and the sun summoner. Katya, who had examined and treated her just before their meal, was throwing her curious glances. Fedyor was the first indication that something was wrong, he was unusually silent. His gaze wandering between Alina herself, and Aleksander. Some hidden pain in his eyes, but also some hope. Ivan barely gave any indication that something odd had occurred, even though he was more fidgety than usual. Alina had observed him long enough to notice that he was less still, that he was searching for eye contact with Aleksander, beseeching him for something without words, something Alina could not decipher. 

When they were all done, and the rest of their group was seeking some entertainment with cards or other small pleasures, Aleksander had – at last – given an indication that he had not forgotten that he had promised to tell her. 

“Will you do me the honour of accompanying me upstairs? We have some things we still have to speak about.” 

Alina could only nod, the anticipation coiling tight in her stomach. Anxiety crawling up her spine as he took her arm and led her upstairs to the rooms she occupied – the most spacious ones in the inn, with a separate seating area like she was a fine lady. 

Agitation was in every fibre of him. In the way he opened the door for her, the way he helped her get comfortable in the chair by the fireplace and in the way he paced through the room, probably collecting his thoughts.

 “Tell me.” Alina whispered. “Just tell me what happened.” 

The sigh he gave at that sounded so weary, like it belonged to someone far older and world-weary than the man standing in front of her. Not that Alina did not think, Aleksander had not had his troubles and tribulations, but this felt different. The way he carried himself, the way his shoulders had sagged when entering these rooms, like he had carried a burden for too long and could not share this burden with anyone. “First let me assure you that while the attack shocked many, and especially the children might still suffer a few nightmares, there were no fatal injuries during the bombing of the Little Palace. Some injuries, to be sure, but nothing our healers couldn’t treat. As we speak everyone should be healed or on their way back to health.” Alina let go a breath at this. She had worried that she had forgotten, had overlooked one of the children. 

“You have my thanks for what you did.” At this, her head shot up. 

“You wouldn’t have led me here, away from the others, if there wasn’t more. If there wasn’t something more serious. What more is there, Aleksander?” 

A pained smile appeared on his face and the fear coiled even tighter in her stomach, so that Alina feared he would vomit up the meal she just had. 

“No one has died during the attack, as I’ve said. But unfortunately, this was not the only strike that was launched. There were also some men who tried to grab you in the Grand Palace.” His eyes were on her, trying to take in every detail, every movement she made. “They knew what they were doing, unfortunately. And they had gained access to the rooms, in which Miss Safin helped you get ready.” 

“Has something happened to Genya?” 

“Miss Safin is fine, she maintained a light injury, nothing too serious, she should already be back on her feet. But…,” Aleksander cleared out his throat, as if he could not speak anymore. “… but Miss Zhabin.” Another moment to clear his throat, and Alina feared the worst. 

Aleksander rightened himself, stood a bit straighter than usual. Whatever he did, he regained the composure he had lost in the moments before. When he then looked her in the eye and continued, Alina was sure he had shut a part of himself off. 

“I regret to inform you that Miss Zhabin has died by the hands of an assassin, who attacked during the Winter Fete. Miss Safin tried saving her, but it was already too late.” Alina felt like the air was being sucked out of her lungs. Aleksander was looking at her, his posture as rigid as on the day they had first met, tall and forbidding, but his eyes were warm and full of compassion, and she just could not bear all of that.

 She burst into tears. 

It was all too much to take in. Marie, joyful, wonderful Marie, one of the first friends she had made in the Little Palace had died. Died while pretending to be her during that damned Winter Fête. Marie, who now would never have a chance to ask Sergei out to go for hot chocolates, or a walk in the gardens. Who could not live her life as she had dreamed. 

Alina sobbed and sobbed, half bowed over herself, her hands gripping the armrest so tight that it hurt. 

And at this moment, it also hit Alina what Aleksander had meant when he had said “You will get used to it” on that fateful day, that already seemed a lifetime away. He was so composed because he truly was used to it. People had tried to murder him before. And this was now her life as well. 

She barely noticed that Aleksander had kneeled before her chair, gently slipping his handkerchief into her one hand, while his hand took her other hostage and held it. Providing her with a much-needed anchor. 

So, she lost herself to all the dark thoughts for a bit. The terror she had seen in the little ones eyes, the grief over Marie’s death and the guilt that accompanied it, the fear of being locked in a chest for days, of barely remembering what had happened for ten days. She succumbed to the grief for her old life as well, something Alina had often pushed back into the far corners of her mind. But her life now was not that of a poor orphan from Keramzin, but she was Ravka’s sun summoner. Someone to be revered, but also someone feared. 

“Breathe, Alina. Just try to breathe evenly.” Aleksander’s words got through her in her grief induced haze. “Just concentrate on me.” 

And so, Alina held his hand, focused on her breathing and let the tears flow. The only thing that gave her comfort that evening was Aleksander, who did not let go of her hand, his warmth and the little circles he drew on her hands the only thing anchoring her in the here and now. 

He did not say one word, but also, he did not need to. For the moment, it was enough that Aleksander was here by her side. 

The revelation of Marie’s death subdued Alina for the next few days. Aleksander seemed to have warned their travelling companions, and they were all quite gentle with her. The man himself, even though he had so tenderly attended to her in her grief, seemed to withdraw even further from her. And Alina’s heart ached for the distance between them that now seemed to become more and more non-traversable with every moment they spent in this nothingness between them. 

So, she spent the days of travelling mostly with her own thoughts, contemplating the changes that had happened in her life. Alina did not manage to come to terms with it all, but the events of the last weeks, and even the months since she had been discovered as the sun summoner, had at least prepared her to say goodbye to the old life she had once envisioned. And Mal’s dream of a farm had never been her own dream anyway. She had for so long even feared that she would never even see that come to fruition; her weak health always looming over her fate. Only in the last months had it improved, as if the discovery of her power had also expelled the sickness that had plagued her most of her life from her body. The discovery of her power and the Little Palace had been the start of a new life for her, and while Alina had mourned her old life in the beginning, she had found a new home there. A new life. One that she wouldn’t want to miss now. 

The landscape flew by in front of her eyes, and most of the time Alina barely engaged in conversation with her travel companions, preferring to sink into her thoughts. Fedyor tried a few times, sometimes with success, and they chatted amicably. Katya was also content with the silence, mostly asking her questions regarding her healing process and treatment, while Ivan rarely spoke with her. Most of the time, he discussed important things with Aleksander, barely looking at her. He was not mean in any way, not abrasive as he had been before in the Little Palace, but there was a certain reluctance to talk to her. Alina did not blame him.

Aleksander though… it was hard to describe. Since he had told her about Marie, and comforted her so tenderly, they had barely exchanged a handful of sentences and Alina did not know what to make of it. Saints, he had barely even looked at her for some reason. The only real contact they did have, had been him handing her in and out of the carriage, and Alina craved these brief moments in a way that she barely wanted to admit to herself. The brief touch of his hand, the warmth of it and the few moments he looked at her had been the highlight of the last three days. 

“Miss Starkova.” Ivan harrumphed on the morning of the fourth day, looking slightly sheepish that he had to interrupt her musings. Alina was sure, he has said her name more than once, but she was too deep in thought to notice. 

“Yes, I’m sorry. What did you say?” 

Ivan sneaked a sideward glance to Aleksander, whose expression was decidedly neutral. “I was saying, Miss Starkova, that we have to speak about your protection before we get back to Os Alta.”

 “My protection?” Alina could not quite follow. What need did she have for protection in the Little Palace, when she was surrounded by other Grisha? 

Ivan just looked at her and sighed deeply. 

“Miss Starkova, in light of recent events you will have a guard with you, some selected oprichniki will accompany you everywhere when you set foot outside the Little Palace.” So, Aleksander did still speak to her, even if he barely looked at her right now. “Except on special occasions, of course. Additionally, a heartrender should accompany you, heading your guard. Similar to maybe Ivan’s position.” 

“I don’t think I need protection when I’m in the Little Palace, do I not?” Maybe it was because her thoughts were still elsewhere, but Alina did not see the need for these things. Before, she had barely left the Little Palace. Only to be presented to the Royal court and then for the Winter Fete. Why should it be different now? 

Alina stared at Aleksander, and lo and behold he raised his head to finally look at her. 

“You do need protection, and you shall have it. There is no way around it.” Aleksander sounded very definite and something inside Alina bristled at this rigidity, but was determined not to show it. 

“But I do not need it. It may be sensible to have an oprichnik or two accompany me, should I go out. But more than that? And a heartrender? I don’t think this is necessary.” She had no plans to go out and entertain in any way. Was Aleksander so shaken from the events that she would have to be followed even in the Little Palace now? “And besides, I do not think anyone would want to ‘guard’ me, it must be a very boring task for anyone to fulfil.” Alina had not meant to confess this, so she tried to cover it with a nervous little laugh. But truly, she did not think that she, a lowly orphan from Keramzin warranted such a fuss for everyone. “And most heartrenders probably have better things to do.” 

Aleksander’s mouth was set in a straight, firm line now, and Alina knew that he would not accept her opinion in this matter. His eyes bore into hers, and it felt like they were locked in some battle to which she did not understand the rules. They could have stood on a crowded market square right now, or in the middle of the tsar’s ballroom during a fete, and it still would have felt like they were the only two people in existence. Alina hated that he had ignored her, but she wanted this intoxicating feeling right now to never end. 

Before either of them could say anything, Fedyor interjected. “It would be a great honour, Miss Starkova, if you’d consider me for the position.” This broke the moment she had with Aleksander. But not only her head, but also Aleksander’s snapped around to look at Fedyor. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said, I’d be honoured to fill this position and head your household so to speak, if you would have me, Miss Starkova.” His smile was serene, and for a moment, Alina wondered if the slightly heated exchange with Aleksander had been all in her head. But a glance at Ivan’s rigid features confirmed that they had not. 

Head her household? Alina was not sure what this even meant. But Fedyor volunteering? She knew he had been in General Kirigan’s service for a while now, a trusted aide. Why would he want to change this. But there was no way she could politely refuse him. Not without ruffling some feathers, so Alina was left speechless. 

Aleksander seemed as surprised by this as she was. “Fedyor would be…,” he hesitated very uncharacteristically. “Fedyor would be a good choice, and you would be in safe hands.” At this Alina softened a bit. He sounded so earnest, but hopeful at the same time. The sharpness from before had evaporated. 

“If you think this is best.” Alina had to tear her eyes away from him and look at Fedyor with a considerable amount of willpower. “I’d be glad to have you.” She smiled hesitantly. “Even though I have no idea, what your tasks would be.” 

Fedyor only smiled and assured her that there would be plenty of things to do and that he would be glad to guide her through them. Learning together, he said, even though Alina still did not understand what he was alluding to and what they would be learning. 

They sank into a pleasant silence again. Alina was not sure, but she thought that Ivan threw Fedyor a thankful glance after Aleksander and her returned to ignoring each other again. But soon, the rhythmic rattling of the carriage and the soft murmuring of Ivan and Aleksander lulled Alina to sleep once again. 

It had been seven days since they had started their journey from the little town, which name Alina still did not know. And nine days since she had freed herself for her kidnappers. 

In the morning, the spires of Os Alta had appeared on the horizon and for Alina, it felt like some burden fell off her shoulders. Os Alta meant the Little Palace, meant safety. It meant, she would be able to hide in the library, go back to her routine of going to her classes and training with Botkin or Baghra. It meant a routine and normality that Alina craved as she never had before.

 Alina was ready to be out of the carriage for more than a few hours again. Ready to sleep in her own bed. 

So, when the carriage stopped in front of the great gate of the Little Palace at dusk, Alina felt relieved. 

“Welcome back, Miss Starkova.” Aleksander’s voice was so quiet that she at first thought she had imagined it. But no, as he had helped her out, Alina had not let go of his hand immediately, but held on to it for a few more breaths and Aleksander had taken the opportunity to speak to her.

"Thank you." It felt right. Like this should have been the way to originally arrive at the Little Palace all those months ago. 

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but Genya had flown down the stairs, into the courtyard, running very uncharacteristically towards her and had thrown herself into her arms. 

“I leave you in Miss Safin’s capable hands, then.” He let go of her hand, and Alina felt the loss immediately. His eyes were soft and Alina could not look away.

“Oh, Alina, I was so worried.” But then Genya started talking, and Aleksander took this as an opportunity to leave. With a last bow in her direction, he disappeared in the Little Palace. Alina could only follow his retreating figure, admiring his broad shoulders, observing the slight flex of his hand – the hand that had only moments ago held hers. 

She was led back to the Zvedzda suite, Genya was chattering about how there was food waiting for her, and that a bath would be prepared and how she had missed Alina, how worried she had been after everything, and how relief had overwhelmed her with first General Kirigan’s letter about finding Alina, and second as she had now laid eyes on her again. 

After a meal, and the long-awaited bath, Alina just sank into her bed. It did not take long for her to fall into deep, dreamless sleep. 

~~ END OF PART 1~~