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“Are you going to destroy the Fold?”
She stands, stock-straight, in front of a man she should fear. Alina doesn’t flinch when he does, and is even less affected when he recovers in an instant.
“We, Alina, can do anything.”
His voice is thick with the chill from the elements he’s just exited. Even as he towers, wrapped in onyx furs, the Darkling isn’t immovable in the face of an inconsequential girl from the army. This version of the man, staring down at her neck, is the man who can be bargained with.
“I’ll go with you. Willingly.”
He stands in silence, waiting for the inevitable catch.
“If we destroy the Fold.”
His mouth twitches in a wisp of a smile, but he makes no move to respond.
She continues on, sensing his hesitance. “Why not, general? To control Ravka through isolation? A broken country, ripped to shreds before your eyes, with no intention of repairing it. Why not break through the Fold, rule through benevolence?” She laughs outright at that suggestion, never breaking eye contact. That’s not what the Darkling values. “People will love you.”
“And if they don’t, Miss Starkov?” He speaks now, his voice deadly soft. “If the otkazat’sya shun the Grisha who is a constant reminder of what they have lost? Besides,” he adds, finally turning his face away from Alina’s and starting to depart, “you would be the one to destroy it, not I.”
“They already worship me. I’m the Sun Saint, apparently.”
The Darkling stops his pacing, kefta falling around him as he slows.
“Sol Koroleva,” he murmurs. “There’s the bridge.”
“Bridge?”
“The sun queen, Alina.” He turns to face her again, swift now with a strange, frenzied, and somehow confident gleam in his eyes. “The people of Ravka have already named you as their rightful ruler.”
She scoffs at his tactic. “I don’t think they meant it literally—“
“But they will accept it if you are made their queen.” He’s close to shouting now, all power and focus as he stalks back towards Alina. “You have earned the mythological, foretold title through your power.”
He holds his hand out right in front of her eyes, amplifier on full display. “This is the bridge,” he repeats. “We tear down the fold.”
“We?”
“We,” he emphasizes, “return to Os Alta.” He waits now, urging Alina on with his silence.
She realizes after only a moment. “The king is ill.”
“We,” he repeats for a final time, “ascend to Ravkan royalty. There is peace. The King of Shadows and the Sun Queen, presiding over a new era of Ravkan might, with neither the Fold nor a civil war looming on the horizon.”
She’s never seen him speak so fast, so passionately. It gives her pause. “What makes you think I’d go with you?”
Now he truly smiles, a mismatched grin; his lips are tight, but his eyes are somehow warm, as if disobeying his intentions of heartlessness.
“As much as you hate to admit it, Alina, I know you quite well. I know your habits, your fears, your … attachments. And only yesterday I learned just how willing you are to sacrifice yourself for those around you.”
“There were arrows in Mal’s back! He would have died if—“
“He would not have been shot in the first place if you had stayed, safe, at the Little Palace.”
His voice is too calm now for Alina to comprehend. “Safe with you? Safe from the dangers of the outside world, protected by the most dangerous man in all of Ravka, who certainly has my best interests at heart?”
His eyes have lost whatever they might have been betraying. “Of Ravka, Alina.”
“Ravka,” she spits, “you care nothing for Ravka, Aleksander. You protect your army because they help you keep power, not because you love your people.”
He doesn’t let her see how his name twists his fingertips, choosing to sweep them together and cast shadows between them. The tent is silent, until Alina gasps as light flows from her, unbidden. The Darkling smirks.
“But Sol Koroleva does. The Sun Summoner covets her people, basks in their love and support and gives back to her country. She tears down the Fold because she cares about the fate of Ravka, because she has a duty to protect those she loves.”
“What are you talking about?”
“If she cares enough to give up her freedom for one lowly Ravkan, of course she would do so for her country!”
Alina stands firmer. “So you do know.”
He pauses. “What, pray tell, do I know?”
“That I am not free.”
The Darkling lets his eyes fall to where his shadows have been overcome at his bidding, at his manipulation of Alina’s light. He dismisses everything with a wave, and the tent flickers back to its beige interior as if the two most powerful Grisha in Ravka had never occupied it.
“That is your decision to make, Alina.” He steps back just enough to give her space, but not far back enough to escape her tirade.
“Oh, so is it still my decision to wear this collar? The bones of a creature I watched you murder in cold blood? Can I change my mind, then, general?”
“It is your decision to make whether or not you have freedom,” he fires back, unperturbed. “Do we have the same goal?”
“Are you going to tear down the Fold?” Alina ends her argument right back at the beginning, where she knows everything will end a second time around.
“Yes.”
Alina almost stops breathing, almost chokes on her surprise. “Yes?”
Something in the Darkling’s face has changed. “My short-term goals, I admit, did not align with your… chivalry, Alina. My long-term goals, however, have shifted. I propose a joining of our two ends. We tear down the Fold, and you return to Os Alta. With me.”
Her cheeks grow rosy with fury as she speaks with all the contempt she can muster. “So the Darkling gives his pet Sun Queen a treat, then shackles her back up in the Little Palace? Forgive me for not chomping at the bit, general.”
“I confess, I plan for fewer shackles.” He seems to grow both in stature and in absolute power as he takes one step forward. “You will go with me, as I know you will, because you value your life less than the millions of other lives you can improve by doing so. Selfless. Admirable. A glowing trait for a queen.”
She scoffs, but quieter this time. “You’re serious?”
He extends his hand to Alina, breaching the invisible barrier between them. “This is me… remaking you.”
She breaks their eye contact with a whisper. “Do you expect me to believe that?” Her voice trembles as she looks back at him, daring to challenge him once again. “After the stag, after Mal—“
“My equal, Alina. There was no one before me, and will be no one after you, who compares in any way to what we can accomplish. We, together.”
“You understand that your word means nothing.”
This time, he flinches with his whole body, hissing in a breath through his teeth. Alina stares, incredulous.
“I never intended,” he starts slowly, “to foster such a relationship of mistrust. I keep my word, Alina. And you have it. No harm will come to you.”
“But will I be free? Will you listen to me? Sun Queens tend to have opinions on how their kingdom should be ruled.”
Alina watches as the shine returns to his dark eyes. She can make out the outline of her reflection in their depths; a drop of pure light in their endless black.
“As an equal, moya Tsaritsa.”
She takes his outstretched hand.