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Alina stared at the woman in front of her, the words she told her daggers in her heart.
"No," she croaked. "You're lying."
Baghra waved with her hand, plunging the room in darkness.
"You're his mother," Alina breathed after the dim light had returned.
"I don't care about the king or this saints-forsaken country," Baghra responded, and something in her expression softened. "But I refuse to sit back and watch as my son loses any hope for redemption."
"So you're telling me to run."
"I'm giving you time. Both of you."
Alina contemplated, the pain of the betrayal of the man who had kissed her just a moment ago still deep. She nodded and almost thought to see tension leaving Baghra's body.
"Walk down this passage. You will reach a fork. Take the tunnel on the right. There are Grisha loyal to me who will help you. Go into hiding. Train. You're strong enough to cross the fold on your own."
Alina's eyebrows furrowed. "You want me to leave Ravka? You want me to let these people down who put their faith in me?"
"For the time being. Until you're strong enough to face him."
The crease in her forehead deepened. "You want me to fight him?" She whispered.
"I hope it never has to come to this," Baghra replied.
At the thought of potentially having to fight Aleksander, a knot formed in Alina’s throat.
"You have to go now," Baghra said, her hard expression back again.
The knot in her throat stopping her from uttering a single word, Alina gave her a silent nod instead. She had already taken a few steps down the tunnel when Baghra called her name.
At the sound of her name from Baghra's mouth, Alina stopped and turned around to look at her teacher.
"There's still good in him."
Alina nodded before turning around again and walking down the tunnel.
Just like Baghra had told her, she arrived at a fork where the tunnel split into two but hesitated. She had seen the way Aleksander interacts with his Grisha, she had witnessed their loyalty to him. Doubt took root in her mind, and taking one last glance at the passage on the right, she headed down the one on the left.
The feeling of only being able to rely on yourself was no stranger to her. Nevertheless, it was a friend she had hoped to never see again. Involuntarily, her thoughts returned to him, he who had taken away the feeling of being alone. She thought of the kiss they had this morning and his wide smile, like a boy in love. At once, Baghra's harsh voice echoed through her head, turning the memory of that kiss into ashes. He isn't a boy at all. He is eternal.
Alina walked deeper down the tunnel, the little orb of light in her hand the only light she had, and after turning around the second corner, she had lost any sense of direction.
Light relief flooded through her when she glimpsed a wooden trapdoor above her head. Metal rungs were built into the tunnel wall. Alina extinguished the light in her hands and climbed up the latter.
It took some time to adjust to the darkness again, but then she recognised the Little Palace’s stables. Her gaze fell on the white mare she rode that day with Aleksander at the fountain. Once again, the memories of him came back and crushed over her like a wave pushing her underwater.
That day, he had told her about the burden of being the black heretic's descendant. A lie. He told her he wanted to make amends for his ancestor’s sins. Another lie. What else had been a lie? Which awe filled gaze, which touch of his hand and which kiss had been real and which one had been deception?
Struggling to breathe and trying to take a deep breath anyway, Alina hastily exchanged her kefta for plain riding clothes and a woollen coat and walked up to the white mare. She stroked its snout before opening the door and saddling her - despite her trembling hands - as fast as she could.
"Alina."
She froze and slowly turned around.
Aleksander stood in the doorway of the stables. As she studied him, she almost thought to feel his emotions - his hurt and anger - as if being tied to him through an invisible tether. "Planning to go for a ride?" He didn't even bother to hide his emotions, and they were just another dagger in her heart.
Forcing herself to stay where she was, Alina asked, "is it true?"
His body tensed. "Is what true?"
"What Baghra, your mother , told me." She nearly spat the words as tears pricked in her eyes.
The shadows in the stables grew. "Let me guess," Aleksander said. "She told you some twisted version of the truth-"
Alina cut him off. "Are you the black heretic?"
She didn't miss the brief second he flinched. "I created the shadow fold if that's what you want to know," he replied tightly.
Alina’s heart sank and despite the pain, she needed to hear the whole truth from him. "Do you intend to use it as a weapon?"
“We are surrounded by enemies, and the king is a child who-”
Again, she cut him off. “Do you intend to use it as a weapon?” she repeated, her voice sharp.
Aleksander took a deep breath. “Yes,” he admitted. “But give me a chance to explain, Alina,” he said and took a step towards her.
Alina took a step back, one hand reaching out for the horse’s reins. “How do I know you’re not just feeding me more lies?” she found herself asking.
“I would have told you all of it sooner or later,” Aleksander said, and again, Alina could almost feel the anger that was pulsing through him. “But instead you listen to that bitter old woman and decide to run,” he sneered.
Alina took another step away from him and breathed in deeply, afraid of the answer to her next question. "Baghra mentioned Morozova's stag," she said, her voice trembling. "She said you want to use it to take control of my powers. Is this true?"
A pause that was already enough of an answer. "I considered doing it," he said slowly. "But you have to believe me, I don't want to take your powers from you."
"And I'm supposed to believe that?" Alina scoffed; embracing her own anger was less painful than giving into the sadness of it all. "You lied to me about who you are. You told me you want me to destroy the fold and yet you plot behind my back to expand it and use it as a weapon," she continued and raised her voice as she spoke. She thought of his kisses and his tender touch, memories that now left a bitter taste in her mouth. "You even considered collaring me with an amplifier. How am I supposed to believe anything between us was real?”
His anger vanished, replaced by something even more painful - sadness that his dark reflected. She saw that it took every ounce of his willpower to not close the distance between them. And for a fleeting moment, she wanted him to do it, to cross this wide gap between them and take her face into his hands as he’d done earlier. To kiss her and let her forget the betrayal. But that fairytale from earlier was over. There was no happily ever after for them.
“It was real, Alina,” Aleksander said, his voice unbearably soft. They both knew what he was referring to. “Please.”
Alina tore her gaze away, unable to look into those pleading eyes that only added insult to injury. "I cannot stay here, Aleksander."
A moment of insufferable silence passed between them. Briefly, Alina thought to hear his heart break until she realised that it was her own.
"Alright," he said. There was defeat in his voice.
She turned her gaze back to him. "Alright?"
"You can go." Alina opened her mouth but before she could respond he continued. "It's not a trick. I promise, I won't follow you."
Alina blinked, for a moment at a complete loss for words. "You're letting me go?" She whispered.
Aleksander nodded.
Without taking her eyes off of him, Alina mounted the horse and rode off. Aleksander remained where he was and watched as she vanished in the darkness of the night.
He returned to the Little Palace and to his war room. The irises he had given Alina were still lying on the table where she had left them, a sad reminder of what could have been.
Someone knocked at the door, and shortly afterwards Ivan entered the room.
"You don't have to look for Miss Starkov anymore, Ivan," Aleksander said numbly and leaned against the table as if his knees would give in at any moment.
"You found her, sir?" His second in command asked.
"I did."
"Where is she now?"
"I let her go," Aleksander replied, his gaze wandering back to the abandoned flowers.
The heartrender’s brows furrowed, and he hesitated before asking, "why?"
Aleksander closed his eyes, and the image of Alina’s face and her bright smile - a smile he had extinguished with his lies and mistakes - flashed across his mind. Despite the memory cutting deep into his heart, he held on to it, knowing she would never give him that smile again. "Because I love her."
Ivan remained silent and only stared at his general, whose heart had been stolen. One glance at him told Ivan that he was dismissed. He gave his general a quick bow before leaving the room.
Without Alina, the room seemed too big, too empty, too dark - despite the lights burning. For centuries, he had been alone, never needing anyone until he met her. Ever since losing Luda, he hadn’t let anyone close until she came into his life and began to tear down the walls he had built around his heart.
A part of him wanted to follow her and break the promise he gave her before the wounds on his heart would turn into scars. But he didn't. Aleksander gave her a promise, and he intended to keep it.
He walked over to the window, gazing down to the courtyard where both drunk aristocrats and actors laughed and chatted. His gaze wandered to the city and the land beyond. The sun had long set, leaving the world in darkness. Somewhere out there was Alina now, bringing with each step more distance between them - distance he had created. A tear in the making at the heart of the world of a different kind. He caught himself hoping that she would change her mind and ride past the palace gates any moment. That she would walk into the room and stay. He caught himself wondering what could've been if he had given her the trust and truth she deserved and he couldn’t help but imagine her back in his arms with a bright smile on her face.
Hope was dangerous, more treacherous than love. But there was one undeniable glimmer of hope. Time. Aleksander had time, and he could wait for her. And if he would have to wait an eternity, so be it.
***
What happened next all passed in a blur. Alina rode through the busy streets of Os Alta, the hood of her cloak deep over face. Between carriages and wagons, she passed the city gates with her heart pounding in her chest, the only sign it was still there. As soon as she left the capital behind, she left the main road and without taking a break, Alina raced through the woods.
Every now and then, Alina threw a glance over the shoulder, certain to see oprichniki or Grisha - perhaps even Aleksander himself - following her. But there was no one chasing her except the ghosts of the life she was leaving behind and the life she could’ve had.
After a while the mare became tired, so Alina dismounted and continued on foot until they reached a stream. Both of them drank from the cold water, and Alina splashed some water in her face - a desperate attempt to stay awake.
A branch cracked behind her, and she whirled around, her arms lifted in case she'd have to fight.
She choked back a sob. "Mal," she breathed and flung her arms around her best friend's neck.
There was a fight - a quick one - about missing letters and written words that now remained unspoken. Alina told him what Baghra had told her about Aleksander, though she left out the detail that Aleksander let her go - it was a piece in this vast puzzle she still struggled to understand.
Now, they were sitting huddled together, planning their next move.
"You're freezing," Mal remarked. As if on cue, Alina’s belly grumbled. "And hungry," he added with a small smile. "Didn't they give you any food in that palace?"
Alina tried to return the smile. "Oh, they did. Plenty of food." The smile vanished as quickly as it had come. "Perhaps I skipped dinner the evening of the winter fete," she said quietly and stared at her feet. "I've done stupid things, Mal-"
"Hey," he cut her off and put an arm around her shoulder. "You don't owe me any explanations, alright?"
Alina nodded and wiped her cheeks. She hadn’t realised she had begun to cry - for the man she had kissed and lost the night of the winter fete.
Mal squeezed her lightly. "Come on," he said gently. "Let's get you warm and fed, alright?"
Again, Alina nodded. "Mal," she croaked. "Thanks for finding me."
He smiled and squeezed her again. "Always."
Mal set off to hunt, perhaps a rabbit or squirrel, while Alina went off to gather branches for a campfire.
Alina had already collected a few branches when she heard the sound of voices. Careful to not make any noise, she followed the sound until she glimpsed a group of first army soldiers, sitting around a campfire, between the trees.
They were laughing and drinking and judging by the way they spoke, they'd already had a few drinks.
"What did the letter say?" One of them asked.
"General Zlatan invites General Kirigan to diplomatic negotiations," a tall young man who seemed to attempt to grow a beard replied. He laughed, and the sound sent a shiver down Alina’s spine.
A letter from General Zlatan to Aleksander. Zlatan. The name rang a bell, but she couldn’t recall where she had heard it before.
"When will Feliks arrive at the palace?" Another soldier asked. This one had reddish hair and a face full of freckles that made him look younger than he probably actually was.
"Hopefully tonight," the first one replied. "So tomorrow, we'll be rid of the Darkling and his sun summoner."
The tall one grunted. "If the general's amateur assassin succeeded in killing the sun summoner," he said. "Otherwise, that's also up to Feliks."
"Poor man," the first one chuckled.
Alina’s heart stuttered, and she bored her fingernails into the bark of the tree she was hiding behind as she struggled to process the soldier’s words.
“To the black general,” the one with the freckles exclaimed cheerfully, and the others laughed.
“To the black general,” they joined in and clanged their flasks.
“May we finally be free of this monster.”
“And of this miserable country.”
All colour drained from Alina’s face, and she dropped the firewood to the ground.
The soldiers' heads spun around, and she bolted.
"Hey," she heard one of them shout, quickly followed by the sound of rapid steps.
They planned to murder Aleksander. Someone had tried to murder her. Her thoughts shifted to the night of the winter fete. Marie, she thought and silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she ran.
The sound of footsteps faded, and a fleeting wave of relief hit her until she remembered the soldiers' words, and panic seized her once again.
Panting, Alina returned to the clearing where Mal and she were staying for the moment.
Mal had already returned from his hunt, and his eyes widened the moment he caught sight of her. "What happened?"
“We have to go back,” she said while catching breath.
Mal blinked. "What?"
"We have to go back to the palace. Now," she said, panic ringing in her voice.
His brows furrowed. "You just fled from that place and now you want to go back?"
"I heard soldiers talk about planning to assassinate Aleksander," she explained.
"Aleksander?" Mal repeated before it dawned upon him who she was referring to.
"Some general called Zlatan sent someone to the palace with a letter for him," she went on. "But his real mission is to kill him."
"Zlatan? That's the general from West Ravka."
The memory of that time she went to Aleksander in one of many sleepless nights came rushing back. She recalled his despair and desperation, his loneliness and pain. He had told her about a West Ravkan general fighting for independence from the east.
"I think he also tried to murder me," Alina said, her thoughts returning to Marie. She sniffed. "They mentioned another assassin trying to kill the sun summoner."
Mal ran a hand over his head. "Saints," he muttered.
"We have to go back, Mal," Alina said. "He doesn't know about the danger he's in."
"Didn't you say he wants to weaponise the fold and expand it? If he's dead, we have one less problem to worry about," Mal argued.
"Mal!"
"What? You tell me he's the black heretic, and now you want to go back to him to save his life?"
"He did some bad things, but he doesn't deserve to die," Alina countered. "And he saved my life once," she added, thinking of how Aleksander saved her from the drüskelle. The memory vanished and was replaced by the last time they'd seen each other. Those pleading eyes, his soft voice. No matter how hard she tried, she still couldn't comprehend why he let her go. It didn't fit into the picture Baghra painted of him.
"Mal," she pleaded.
Her best friend took a deep breath. "You go. Take the horse. You'll be faster without me."
Alina nodded. “Thank you.” With trembling hands, she mounted the white mare. "What about you?"
Mal gave her a weak smile. "Don't worry about me," he responded. "I will find you. Somehow, I always do."
Alina tried to return the smile and kicked the horse.
Her heart beating to the rhythm of the mare's rapid steps, she rode as quickly as she could, as if death was after her and not him. Though she had never been religious, she prayed to the saints that she wouldn’t be too late. And as if the saints were mocking her, the setting sun illuminated the sky with blood red light.
***
Aleksander returned to the war room, the assassin who tried to kill Alina taken care of. The tsar had thrown a tantrum like a little child when Aleksander had informed him about the attack, and he had informed the king that the sun summoner was taken to a safe place. The lie had satisfied the king for the time being, but sooner or later, Aleksander would have to come up with another solution for this situation.
He took off his kefta and threw it over a chair before coming to stand in front of the map on the war room table, not unlike that night Alina had come to him. The memory of that night - of the words she had spoken to him - resurfaced, and he pushed it away before the pain would become unbearable.
A knock sounded, and he lifted his head. "Come in," he called.
The door opened, and Ivan walked in. The heartrender gave him a quick bow. "Moi soverenyi," he said. "What about the stag?"
"What about it?" Aleksander questioned.
"Shall we continue the hunt for it? We could send another group of trackers after it."
"Oh," Aleksander said, and he lowered his gaze to Alina’s sketch of the stag lying on the table. "No."
The heartrender nodded. He remained where he was, and Aleksander lifted his head again. "Anything else?"
Ivan swallowed. "There's a soldier asking to see you. He says he has a letter from General Zlatan."
Aleksander’s expression darkened, the wrath from earlier returning. "What does the letter say?" He asked.
"He wouldn't tell us," Ivan told him. "He just said that its content is highly confidential."
Aleksander nodded. "Let him in."
Ivan walked to the door and opened it. A lean yet short young man wearing a first army uniform entered the room. He gave Aleksander a quick bow and said, "sir."
"Ivan," Aleksander said. "Leave us."
"Yes, moi soverenyi.”
Aleksander eyed the young soldier, who fidgeted with the envelope in his hand. “What’s your name?” he asked after Ivan had left.
“Feliks,” the boy responded. “Sir.”
“Ivan told me you have a letter from General Zlatan for me,” Aleksander went on as he circled the table. The shadows in the room expanded with each step he took towards Feliks, and he let them.
The boy was either brave or able to hide his fear - or he was just plain stupid. “That’s right, sir,” he said, ignoring the growing shadows.
Aleksander titled his head to one side. “And why does Zlatan send one of his men as a messenger?”
Feliks’ eyes darted briefly to the long and dark shadows surrounding him. “The letter’s content is highly confidential, and the general wanted to make sure it reaches you safely,” he explained.
“I see,” Aleksander said, his lips turning into a smile that did not meet his eyes, and held out his hand. “May I?”
“Of course,” Feliks said and handed him the envelope.
Aleksander broke the wax seal and quickly skimmed the letter. Diplomatic negotiations. The words were a spiteful joke, and General Zlatan knew that. But whatever game Zlatan wanted to play, Aleksander would play along and make him pay.
“Did you know that there has been an attempt on the sun summoner’s life, Feliks?” Aleksander asked without taking his eyes off of the letter.
“No, sir,” the boy said at once.
“General Zlatan sent an assassin to murder Alina Starkov,” Aleksander continued and crumbled the letter as he spoke. “But you can tell your general that he failed. And that he will regret trying to harm the sun summoner that he will wish he was never born.”
A brief moment of silence. “The sun summoner’s alive?” Feliks asked, his voice wavering.
Alive and gone, Aleksander thought, and his heart ached at the reminder of her absence. “She is,” he said and turned around.
Aleksander let out a groan and stared at the knife the boy had plunged into his chest. “General Zlatan sends his regards,” Feliks hissed and twisted the blade. He stabbed him a second and third time before finally pulling out the blade.
An agonising pain shot through Aleksander’s body as he sank to his knees and to the ground. He pressed his hands on the wounds, but the warm blood ran right through the gaps between his fingers and pooled beneath him.
From the corner of his eyes, he watched Feliks open the window and vanish in the night. The bitter winter wind swept through the room and yet the cold that seized him was one of a different kind, the one only death could bring.
The door was thrown open, and death had to have a firm grip already on Aleksander, because he watched as Alina ran into the room and knelt down in front of him. More people followed her, but his eyes were solely on her.
“Aleksander,” she sobbed and took her hands into his blood smeared ones.
He opened his mouth to respond, yet the only sound that escaped his mouth was a wheeze. His vision blurred before his eyes fell shut, his strength leaving him and with it his century old loneliness and pain.
“No,” Alina cried. The sound of her voice seemed so real, and for a moment he let himself believe that she was truly here. It was his last thought - and it was a beautiful one - before the world turned dark, and his heart beat one last time - for her. Because even until the very end, his heart had been hers. It had always been meant for her.
***
The sun had long set when Alina arrived in Os Alta. She rushed through the streets and to the palaces, ignoring protesting pedestrians and dodging coaches. A quick display of her powers sufficed to convince the palace guards to open the gate.
Alina almost fell off the horse and stumbled over her feet before hurrying to the little palace. She had no idea where Aleksander was, but as if a fine thread - a tether - was pulling her towards him, she somehow knew exactly where she would find him.
As she made her way to the war room, she ran into Fedyor and Ivan who looked at her wide eyed.
“You-” Ivan began.
“Someone wants to kill the general,” she panted.
The heartrenders exchanged a quick glance before following her down the hall.
The two oprichniki guarding the door looked at her with the same surprise as Ivan and Fedyor. Ignoring them, Alina threw the door to the war room open and was immediately hit by a gust of biting wind.
One of the windows was left open, but she barely noticed it. Her gaze fell on Aleksander’s body on the ground and the blood leaking out of a gaping wound right in the middle of his chest. The sight ripped her heart apart.
“No,” she sobbed. “Aleksander.”
She knelt down in front of him and took his hand into his.
Aleksander opened his mouth as if he wanted to speak but only let out a wheeze before his eyes fell shut. His chest barely rose anymore, and another sob escaped her lips.
One of the oprichniki closed his arms around her. “No,” she cried out as he pulled her away.
Fedyor and Ivan knelt down beside Aleksander, and though they weren’t healers, they stopped the bleeding and tried to reanimate his heart.
“The first army soldier,” Ivan said and quickly glanced at the other oprichniki. “He couldn’t have gotten far.”
The man nodded and left.
Fedyor stopped using his powers, instead trying a cardiac massage, while Ivan kept trying to start Aleksander’s heart with his heartrending abilities. The two men let their hands fall to the side. Fedyor squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and Ivan turned his head away.
“Why did you stop?” Alina said. "Save him.”
Fedyor rose to his feet and gave the oprichniki holding her a nod.
The oprichniki let her go, and her knees would have given in if it weren’t for Fedyor taking hold of her just in time.
"We can heal. We cannot defeat death." Fedyor said and swallowed. “He’s gone, Alina.”
Alina felt as if someone had taken the ground beneath her feet and pulled it away, sending her into an endless abyss. She shook her head, refusing to believe Fedyor, and knelt down beside Aleksander.
Tears streamed down her cheeks and sobs - filled with pure and bitter agony - escaped her lips. An insufferable feeling of loneliness crept into the spot where her heart once had been. “No,” she whimpered.
Holding his hands, she leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on his lips before leaning her forehead against his. Her body began to glow until they were both engulfed by golden light, though Alina didn’t notice it.
The two heartrenders and the oprichniki stepped away and shielded their eyes from the blinding light.
The light grew brighter, yet Alina still didn’t take note of it. “Don’t let me be alone,” she whispered, her forehead still resting against his. Still not aware of the light she was summoning, she felt her heart beating again, first quiet like a whisper than louder. It took her a second to realise that the heartbeat she was sensing wasn’t hers.
Alina gasped and pulled away. She couldn’t believe her own eyes as she watched Aleksander’s chest rise and fall weakly.
“But that’s impossible,” she heard Fedyor breathe.
“Go, fetch healers,” Ivan said to the oprichniki, who left at once, before crouching beside Alina.
“What have you done?” the heartrender asked.
Alina frowned. “Nothing.”
Ivan shifted his gaze to his general. “His heartbeat is weak, but it’s there,” he said, visibly confused by what was happening. “Help me get him to his bed, Fedyor.”
The two heartrenders lifted Aleksander from the ground and carried him to the adjacent bedroom where they laid him on the bed. Without taking her eyes off of Aleksander - as if he might stop breathing again the moment she looked away - Alina followed them.
The oprichniki returned with two healers, who both looked like they had just put on their keftas in a haste. Instantly, they began to inspect Aleksander’s wounds and check on his heartbeat and breathing.
“He’s weakened from the wound, but the inner bleeding has stopped, and there seems to be no damage to his lungs,” one of them said, a woman with a long braid running down her back. “We’ll check on him tomorrow again to see if his condition has improved.”
The other oprichniki returned. “We have the man in custody now,” he told Ivan who nodded.
“What happened?” the other healer asked.
“Someone stabbed him,” Ivan told him, his expression dark. “A first army soldier.”
The healers’ eyes widened.
“He shouldn’t be alive right now,” Ivan went on and eyed Alina. “But thank the saints, he is.”
Fedyor rested a hand on his husband’s shoulders. “Thank the saints.”
The others hummed in agreement and left the room until only Fedyor, Ivan, and Alina were left.
Fedyor gave her a warm smile. “You should get some rest,” he said, but she shook her head.
“I’ll stay with him,” Alina said, her gaze still fixed on him. I won’t leave, she thought.
Fedyor nodded, and he and Ivan went away as well, leaving her with Aleksander alone.
Alina sat down on the edge of the bed. How vulnerable he looked, she couldn’t help but think. How wounded. How human. She left him, and she returned - too late to save him. She lost him, and he somehow came back to her. With shaking hands she reached out and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead.
She lowered her gaze to his chest that was rising and falling again. He was breathing, he was alive. And though the pain from his betrayal was still fresh and deep, this was all that mattered for now.
Alina could barely keep her eyes open, and the exhaustion from the ride hit her like a gust of wind. Nevertheless, she rose to her feet and sat down in a chair from where she continued to keep an eye on Aleksander.
Aleksander’s eyes fluttered open, and locked with hers. His lips curved up into a weak smile. “It’s you,” he said, and Alina felt his emotions, his disbelief and relief, as if they were her own. “You came back.”
“I thought I’d lost you,” she said. “You were dead. Your heart stopped beating.”
“And yet it’s beating again,” Aleksander replied. “How did you know about the attack?”
“I came across a group of first army soldiers in the woods,” Alina explained. “They talked about a letter and someone planning to murder you.” She frowned. “They said something about an assassin trying to murder me.”
Aleksander nodded, confirming what she had feared. “General Zlatan sent a man to kill you.”
“Why?”
His expression hardened. “Because you are a threat to West Ravka’s independence. With the fold gone, his campaign for an independent West Ravka is weakened.”
Alina walked up to him and sat down on the edge of the bed. There was another answer she needed. “Why did you let me go?” she asked.
Aleksander stared at her - the anger in his eyes replaced by something she didn’t dare to name - and he took her hand into his. “You know why.”
Alina stared back at him before lowering her gaze to their intertwined hands. “I’m still mad at you,” she replied and felt his hand tense. But she did not let go, neither of them wanted to. “You lied to me,” Alina went on, ignoring the fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. “And you’ve broken my trust.”
“Will you forgive me?” he asked.
Alina swallowed. “I cannot answer that yet,” she confessed, her voice cracking mid sentence. These were not the words she wanted to tell him, but they were the truth. There had been enough lies.
Aleksander briefly squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. “You are free to leave,” he said with his gaze straight ahead. “I told you I won’t keep you here against your will, and I meant it.”
“You hurt me,” Alina said. “But I will stay. And I will give you a chance to regain my trust.” And perhaps even my heart, she left unspoken.
He turned his gaze back to her, and his smile from earlier returned, slightly wider than before. “That is more than enough.”