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"How is she doing?" Genya hesitated briefly, and the Darkling looked up from his papers.
“Poorly," Genya finally answered.
"How so?" The Darkling asked.
"She doesn't seem to sleep very well, has little appetite, she even looks sickly."
He sat up straighter. "Is she?"
Genya shook her head, she might not wear the red, she was still a Corporalki, even if she wasn't a healer she knew enough to tell if someone was or wasn't sick.
“Underfed, tired, exhausted even, but not actually sick."
The Darkling nodded slowly, a slight frown marring his brow.
"And how is she with the others?"
"Distant," Genya reported "But she doesn't strike me as the type who easily makes friends."
"No,” The Darkling murmured, gaze straying to several preliminary reports that littered his desk. He'd sent scouts as soon as he'd been sure Alina Starkov was indeed a sun Summoner.
The first reports from her regimental commander had been hopelessly spare on detail, the reports from her training command were little better. The girl appeared to have gone out of her way to remain as plain and forgetful as possible. All anyone seemed able to recall about her was the mixed heritage. He was hoping the pair of scouts he'd sent to Keramzin would provide a little more useful information.
"She wrote a letter."
He looked up, finding Genya was holding it out to him. He took the missive, turning it over to find it was directed to a Malyen Oretsev, of the 36th regiment, in a neat, clear hand. He broke the seal and sat back to read it, barely two lines in an involuntary smile tugged at his lips. He would admit she had a sharp mind. Which she occasionally wasn't afraid to demonstrate. Not many assistant cartographers dragged into his presence would have had the courage to snap at him quite the same way she had, particularly not after having just survived a harrowing encounter with a swarm of Volcra.
He held the letter, contemplating it at length. The content was entirely harmless, the fears and worries of a girl, abruptly uprooted from her life. There was no value, or even actionable intelligence on the page. It would do no harm to have the letter sent, yet it rankled something deep within to see her reach for comfort and reassurance of another. Some small, petty part of him wanted to crumple the paper and toss it in the hearth to watch it burn. Hoard everyone of her thoughts for himself.
"What is infinite?" He muttered, recalling his grandfather's musings. Abruptly he held the letter out to Genya.
"See that it's sent, bring any response to me first," Genya seemed surprised at his decision but was quick to nod, taking the letter back and leaving the room.
He could be patient, he thought, he'd waited this long, no need to make haste now that his goal was finally within reach.
The tracker’s response was quick, particularly given the 36th regiment had been transferred to an outpost near Chernast. The boy’s penmanship was atrocious though possibly he hadn't had the time or necessary materials to do better. The Darkling read the single page through twice, frowning slightly.
The boy clearly had put his thoughts straight to paper with little effort to organize them. There were half formed questions, worries and confusion all but jumping off the page.
Genya continues to bring him Alina's letters to read, offering her insight into the Sun Summoner's state of mind and progress as well. The Darkling nods along to reports that the sickliness seems to have resolved, and that while still not exactly comfortable Alina does appear to have settled into her new life at least somewhat.
As much is apparent in her letters as well, while there is still an undercurrent of doubt and uncertainty there is evidence of a growing confidence as well. A young woman slowly coming into her own. In contrast, the tracker's concern only seems to be growing. He stares at the boy's latest missive, rereading the smudged words as he contemplates the upcoming Winter Fête. The king and his court will expect a demonstration from the sun summoner, something he's been considering carefully.
Alina will need to demonstrate enough progress to warrant her presence at the Little Palace, but not so much that anyone might suggest she leave to fore fill her purpose of destroying the Fold. Over the past months he's been carefully shaping expectations, both from the king and his advisors, arguing that there's a reason why children are tested so young and brought to the Little Palace to learn and train for years before being deployed as members of the second army.
Surely no one can expect a single girl to master a unique ability sufficiently within a few months, when it takes other Grisha years to do so? He's even gone as for as to obliquely reference his own schooling. A dangerous topic to draw attention to, but necessary as it wouldn't do to diminish Alina's standing in the king's mind by comparing her to an ordinary Inferni or Squaller.
Thankfully the king doesn’t pay very much mind to the details of the goings on within the Little Palace so he hasn't heard or seen, the Sun Summoner wearing blue. That will have to change for the Winter Fête, but he's confident she'll accept his gift by then. As he again looks down at the tracker’s letter he wonders if he should not arrange for another' gift'. He considers the possibilities, forcing down his own rebellious greed to do so logically. Turning it over in his head he can't see any downsides, and after another long moment he folded the letter and called for Ivan, pulling a clean sheet of paper forward to write out the order.
The demonstration is a rousing success and he allows himself a brief smile at the joy that quite literally shines from Alina. He offers her his arm, after she has made the rounds. Nodding to Genya, the Tailor drops back while he pulls the Dark around them, shielding them from view as he takes her from Grand hall.
"Where are we going?" She asks, he looks at her, cheeks glowing with a blush, voice filled with excitement.
"There's something I'd like to show you, or rather, someone."
She frowns, looking up at him. “Someone?" He nods but does not elaborate further.
"Mal!"
He ruthless squashes the flare of jealousy as she leaves his side to rush to the boy. And is almost immediately gratified when the boy steps back from her. Alina falters, elation giving way to uncertainty.
"Mal?"
The boy looks at her, frowning but with hints of confusion and anger in his expression. His gaze travelling the length of the gold embroidered black silk Kefta before flicking back to him, taking in the same deep black silk. The boy tries to control his expression, but the Darkling has hundreds of years of experience on him and he notes the resentment in the boy’s eye.
He doesn't smile, he was prepared to wait out the boy's lifetime. To even let the boy have her for the span of his mortal life, knowing that in the end the boy would grow old and wither while Alina remained unchanged. But the boy's look told him he wouldn't have to wait nearly that long, and the irony was that he wouldn't even need to do anything, the boy was going to do all the work for him. He inclined his head, stepping back.
"I'll leave you be,"
Alina looked back, clearly unaware of the boy's feelings, her gratitude was open and sincere as she latched onto his arm, keeping him from leaving.
"Thank you,"
He nodded to her, catching the boy's scowl over her shoulder before he turned and left. He left orders with the Oprichniki and made his way back to the Grand Palace.
It's the following morning that Genya confirms what he already knew would happen. They'd fought, a few sharp cruel words had brought Alina to tears while the boy stormed off. He nods, excuses Genya and has lvan bring the boy to him later that morning.
The boy is clearly resentful, though smart enough not to be obvious about it. He extends his offer to the lad, join the ranks of the Oprichniki, stay at the little Palace, even a spot on the Sun Summoner's detail if the boy wanted.
It was an incredible offer, particularly given that he would be the youngest among the elite force, and one of very few who did not have Grisha as direct family. It would also mean a posting far from any front line in the relative comfort of the capital city. Still the boy hesitated, clearly resentful of what was a favor from the Darkling, at Alina’s behest. The Darkling pushed a little.
"Alina speaks very highly of you I'm sure she'd feel better having you nearby,"
The boy twitched at his use of her first name, but the appeal to his protectives is also clearly successful. And he nods after a moment. The Darkling hides his own smile and tells the boy to report in for his new assignment.
The two orphans from Keramzin mend some fences over the next few days, but it's a thin veneer papering over the cracks in their relationship. A position as one of the Sun Summoner's personal guards is a constant and glaring reminder of just how different Alina Starkov has become. The fact that she elects to continue wearing black doesn't help, though he expects it's more stubborn pride on her part, combined with an unwillingness to concede any point the boy might have made in regard to the color, than any true acceptance of a place at his side.
He keeps a careful distance, well aware from centuries of experience that doing nothing is a perfectly valid strategy and often a very successful one. As it proves to be now. The nobles that attended the Fête return home and news of the Sun Summoner begins to travel, there were whispers before but with Alina hidden within the little Palace there was little to feed them.
Now that she's stepped into the light the response was overwhelming, helped in no small part by the Apparat. Alina herself was only tangentially aware of it, since she didn't leave the Little Palace, and the other Grisha, in so far that they were even aware, did not discuss it with her.
He was careful to keep the Apparat away from her as well, not that the man pressed the point, apparently happy to have his figurehead be silent and distant. The boy however was the type that made friends easily and it wasn't long before he was going into lower Os Alta with the other Oprickniki and regular palace guards. And he sees the pilgrims that have begun to come into the city, the altars that pop up on street corners and market places. Selling charms and likenesses of the living Saint.
The boy starts to look at her differently, trying to find the girl he once knew in the woman she is becoming. And when he can't seem to find what he's looking for he withdraws.