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Reading had never been vital to Alina’s survival. It was not required in the Duke’s orphanage for girls to learn as help was limited for the education of foundlings and boys had the priority for such affairs. Instead, she had learned talents like drawing that would endear her to others and numbers for the better care and management of a household. There was one of three choices available to wayward children in Ravka: join the First Army, find work in the service of a household, or marry and run a home.
Alina hadn’t considered marriage an option at the time of her 17th birthday. The only man she could think to marry had enrolled in the service of the Tsar and staying alone in Keramzin seemed a fate worse than death. The easiest thing was to follow Mal into service in hopes they could come out on the other side together.
Her skill with illustrations landed her as a cartographer, a fitting place for a girl who was unable to fight—though it did not last long. Her true purpose had been discovered in a flash over the starless ruins of the Fold when right from the center of her soul pure light came forth.
Then she belonged to the Darkling.
Swept away to live in the Little Palace her lack of skill with the written word did not seem to matter much. Though all Grisha raised under the Second Army banner had learned as children, she was never made to seem out of place. She simply listened to the lessons being taught and that was enough for her to catch on.
For Alina, power was far more important than understanding what was on a piece of parchment. She was the only person in this realm known to possess light that could pierce through the rift of the Unsea. Her only existing counterpart was the shadow summoner.
Most of her time was spent in the company of the the Darkling as he explained the ins and outs of the two-fold war on Ravka, the threat to Grisha, and their most vital mission to tear down the Fold. In the midst of these newfound pressures weighing on her, Alina found herself clinging to the only person who made sense of it all for her—the Darkling or rather, as he’d come to share with her and only her, Aleksander.
Much like the ducklings in the pond on palace grounds Alina could be found following in the shadows of the Second Army general. The walks they took together helped clear her mind as she struggled through practicing her summoning and he was always close by to help bring her power to the surface.
It was also the safest place to be too given the many attempts on her life after so short a time of her existence being revealed. Alina had ventured from the walls in Os Alta only once to the market with Genya and Feydor and two oprichniki guards and it had again ended in the bloodshed of enemies and her in a sour mood.
This evening Aleksander had suggested they take dinner in the privacy of his war room. Alina had eagerly agreed at the chance for more alone time and had hoped that perhaps something more than just conversation and the brush of hands would occur. Her burgeoning feelings had given her something steady to focus on in the uncertainty of her future.
Their meal had been uneventful, though a welcome change from the herring she could do without more often. He had smiled indulgently at her arguments against the offending creatures assuring her he would take it into consideration.
After dinner is finished, Alina’s plate cleared following some encouragement from the general, Aleksander sets a small plate of treats snuck over from the Grand Palace between them for dessert.
She’s got a mouthful of pastry when he broaches the topic.
“Your protection is of the utmost importance to me, Alina. I would like to take another step to ensure it.” Aleksander watches her in that intense way that always leaves her stomach fluttering and her cheeks hot.
It takes her a moment to recover, swallowing down the bite of chocolate tart with a sip of tea to cover her reaction to him. “What step is that? There’s already so much in place.”
The idea of more guards is off-putting. The constant rotation of oprichniki and Grisha had been both annoying and overwhelming since her discovery on the front. She had come to understand the necessity in spite of her need for independence but that didn’t mean she wanted more. Part of the reason she stuck so close to Aleksander was the added benefit that a guard wasn’t required in his presence.
“It’s more of a legal precaution,” he grabs his teacup and saucer, the porcelain gently clattering together.
Alina’s brows furrow, “How does that work?”
“I have an order here from the Tsar.” Aleksander lays an ornately written piece of parchment in front of her. She can’t make out anything it says but it looks quite formal and important.
She feels herself shift uncomfortably in her seat as she searches the paper again for understanding. Not knowing makes her skin itch in a way she hasn’t felt since before she let her sunshine out.
Alina’s dark gaze meets his as she silently pleads for him to continue explaining.
“Ah yes,” he nods once as if he had forgotten her predicament. He places the teacup back down on the table, out of reach of the document, and moves closer to her as he explains, “This order would make it a crime to bring harm against you, Alina. It will confirm that you are under my protection and that protection is guaranteed by the crown.”
She hadn’t expected that.
Her foot taps on the floor, a physical manifestation of her processing what this means. “So… that would mean the crown is saying I’m their property?”
The room darkens as Aleksander’s shadows grow and slither closer around him.
“No, you are not property of the crown Alina—the Tsar may think what he likes but you and all Grisha are under my care, and in that they are free.”
“Then what does–”
“You didn’t let me finish.” He cautions her, “This paper will show that you, more than anyone else, have my protection. The ramifications of that are well known. It will be a deterrent in the minds stopping enemies before their ideas can take root.” He’s takes her chin in his hand, “Do you understand?”
Their gazes lock as she nods. She understands now. Knowing the penalty for leaving the First Army often deterred deserters, knowing that she had the Lanstov’s protection and the Darkling’s would deter opposition. She’s agreeing to a law, simple as that.
“That is a good thing then,” Alina smiles relieved.
“Yes, Alina, it’s a good thing. All you have to do my sun summoner, is sign your name on the line right here,” he points to the right-hand corner of the page where a blank space lays.
“What’s that space for?” Alina points to the opposite corner matching hers.
“That’s where I sign. Once that’s done everything will be in place. Now, will you sign in?” He waits for her answer. She can feel some stirring in the air as if this decision is pivotal.
Alina cracks under the weighted pressure with a nod, “Alright, alright I will.”
An ink pot and quill appear from the shadows on the table. Aleksander takes the quill dripping it in the waiting pot, then with a flourish of his hand a swirling signature covers the left corner.
“Your turn.”
He places the quill in her waiting palm.
Alina had learned how to write the letters of the alphabet along with her numbers as a child. She had been able to write the names of places on maps only when someone would tell her which letter to put next. The one word she always knew how to put together was her initials.
She puts the pen to paper and scribbles down a far more straightforward A and S for Alina Starkova.
Once it’s signed Alina puts the order out of her mind. It was only a piece of parchment after all.
The next morning Genya arrives with a new black kefta embroidered with beautiful gold thread that shimmers in the soft rays of light and a yellow banded ring for her hand.
“A most gracious gift from the General,” Genya tells her with a conspiratorial wink.
Alina dresses in it getting used to the idea of black more and more though she refuses to wear the ring thinking it impractical for the day ahead. Genya puts the band away in a jewelry box and slips it in her pocket with a shake of her head.
Everything should be normal and in a way it is. Her schedule doesn’t change, her guard trails her around, but people are looking at her more. It’s as if she’d just arrived again, a curiosity, a legend come to life, too bright to look away from.
After supper spent with the other Grisha, Ivan informs her Aleksander has been preparing for them to journey to the camps on the outskirts of the fold at the behest of the Tsar. They’re leaving shortly in the dark of night to avoid problems on the road.
A trunk has already been packed for her and she has very little say over being swept away and into the waiting carriage at the gates.
Aleksander is waiting inside for her.
He is studiously reading over correspondences or reports (she can never really tell), only briefly greeting her when she arrives. He makes her practice her summoning to light his view before allowing her to sleep for most of the journey.
Everything passes by in a haze and perhaps that is all for the better. If she remembers her first journey down this path and the bloody trail they had to forge through it her nerves would fray and she can’t appear weak upon their arrival at the camp. What would people think when they saw her by the Darkling’s side, knowing she was under his protection?
Alina can sense the darkness approaching as they near the Fold when Aleksander pulls a small box from his kefta.
“You need to put this on,” he says. Nestled inside the box is the golden band Genya had shown her not long ago.
“I don’t-”
“ Alina ,” his voice is stern, brokering no argument.
She sighs but moves easily when he takes her left hand. His own is far bigger in comparison and surprisingly warm as he slides the ring onto the fourth finger. She has to admire it for a moment, distracted by the pleasant feeling of something so fine being hers.
It’s only when he is helping her out of the stagecoach at the camp that she notices a matching gold band on his hand. Is it a show of solidarity? It is yet another bond they share? There are many questions she should ask, but all she can do is step down to the dirt below as her head spins.
“General,” A female squaller, one Alina vaguely remembers seeing from her days in the First Army, greets them upon their arrival with a bow.
Aleksander acknowledges the squaller with a nod to continue.
“Your tent is ready for you and your wife.”
Wife? No, that’s impossible.
Alina’s face scrunches in displeasure, “Oh, the general doesn’t–”
“Excuse her,” Aleksander has cut her off again and she wants nothing more than to stomp on his foot. The only thing holding her back is making a fool of herself. He continues, “My wife must have forgotten during the long journey.”
Alina absolutely would not have forgotten if she had know. Marrying the Darkling isn’t something she could ever simply forget.
“Of course,” the squaller brushes it off with a laugh and then she smiles kindly towards Alina. A smile full of hope and excitement Alina had grown accustomed to regarding her power, but this is different. This is about her and the Darkling, hope because of them together.
There is nothing she can say as he guides them over to the large tent in the middle of camp surrounded by Second and First Army soldiers on all sides.
The second they have some privacy Alina turns on him, “Just when in the world did we get married?”
She’s trying not to be embarrassed that everyone but her seem to know about their nuptials. She has her arms crossed tightly, heart beating wildly in her chest, her ears are burning red.
“The moment you signed the order granted by the Tsar, malyshka.” He tells her simply, as if getting married was something that slipped everyone’s mind now and again. “It’s the only way for Grisha to marry.”
Alina doesn’t have time to consider how horrible it is to have your love approved or denied by an indifferent monarch with flighty tendencies. She hadn’t been given a choice at all.
She’s indignant at this point pacing around the tent and making a ruckus though no one dares step inside. “You knew I couldn’t read it!” Alina’s eyes burn with tears. All her fears and insecurity about her inability to read resurfacing now that she’s been played a fool. “You didn’t tell me that was what it said.”
“Didn’t I?” He raises a brow. He’s watching her carefully now his demeanor cool and calm in comparison to her furious heat.
She gapes as she replays his words searching for some hidden meaning when she realizes he’d made it clear, she just hadn’t been paying proper attention. She was distracted by daydreams of him while signing herself under him.
“Why? Why Aleksander? What does this give you? What does it mean?” Alina throws out her questions anticipating some answers will come from her pleading.
“Come wife,” Aleksander offers his hand, tangled up in shadows to her, “I will show and tell you in vivid detail exactly what it all means.”
There is nowhere else to go. There is no one else to turn to. He’s made this trap for her and now he is the only one who can help her. If he had only just asked… she might have said yes. Might was never good enough for the Darkling.
Her only option is to take his hand and follow him deeper into the tent and into the unknown.