If she was honest, Thalia had always thought it would be rather fun to be an advisor for General Kirigan.

She has always known that the advisory board have better benefits than the general army. For example, they are granted access to his sector of the Little Palace and often commute there. They got to weigh in on his ideas, their opinions somewhat valued and taken into consideration. They even got to call Kirigan by his first name, but Thalia didn't have a clue what that was, nor if that was just a rumour.

She had thought that being in Kirigan's commune came with a certain status. That it led to bigger and better opportunities. That it let you get away with things that nobody else would dare to try.

But evidently, being a member of Kirigan's advisory faculty does not grant you immunity. Thalia knows that much is true when she finds Zoya trudging through the Little Palace only twenty minutes after her fight with Alina, scowling like a child.

   "Zoya!" She shouts, fast on her feet. Zoya doesn't let up her pace, and Thalia races to keep up. "Zoya, slow down, for Saints sake."

"Go away, Thalia," Zoya bids, still walking at a pace that indicated she wanted to be anywhere but the palace. When Thalia does not stop trailing after her, she scoffs. "Why are you following me?"

Thalia shrugs, "Something to do, I suppose."

It is then that Thalia zones in on the fact Zoya is carrying a particularly large bag, her eyes widening. She had thought that Zoya was simply on a rampage, but evidence showed otherwise.

"Are you leaving?" Thalia asks, "If so, why are you leaving? If not, why do you have a bag big enough to carry a horse with you?" Zoya continues her walk, now heading toward the foyer, and Thalia's question is answered wordlessly.

She's rather chatty today, Thalia has realised. Can't seem to keep her mouth shut for longer than a minute, snarky and/or unsavoury remarks slipping past her lips easily. This is what being carefree feels like, she supposes.

But carefree is not the word she would use to describe her current feelings as her heart begins to deepen the pit in her stomach. That is unmistakably dread, Thalia knows it like an old friend.

Zoya makes way for the stable, and the pit in Thalia's stomach continues to grow even deeper.

"You don't have to go," she reasons. "I know Kirigan will be annoyed, but he'll get over it. So will Alina. Really, Zoya, you don't have to leave."

Please don't leave, her mind supplies. I can't bear being left anymore.

An almost comical laugh rises from Zoya's throat, "I'm not sure when you became so clingy, Thalia, but I suggest you break the habit. You'll forget me just as easily as you forgot Kat, and just as easily as you'll soon forget Zaria. You only care about yourself, at the end of the day. I suppose that's the best way to be, because if you don't care about anybody, then you can't be hurt."

The words punch her directly in the gut and Thalia can't move for a long moment. Zoya doesn't stop, though, continuing her march toward the stable. She shakes her head, coming back to her senses and realising what Zoya just said was entirely out of order.

"You aren't allowed to say that to me," she declares. "Not when you walk around acting like the Saintsforsaken Ice Queen, acting like letting anyone inside that frozen heart of yours is personally signing your death warrant."

Zoya stops there, her face contorting to one of fury, "Excuse me?"

Finally, Thalia thinks. Finally you show some sort of sign that you are capable of feeling.

"You seem to think that allowing someone to love you is bad. That by doing so, you are personally telling death to come and get it. You are not immortal Zoya, and you must allow yourself to be loved by those around you in the time that you are here. You'll be miserable in the afterlife otherwise."

   It is silent for a minute before Zoya breathes outward, raising her head to meet Thalia's eyes, "That's pretty rich coming from you, Miss 'I don't deserve to be loved.'"

"I'm working on that," Thalia assures, smiling softly. "I still don't think I'm quite at the point of letting people love me without feeling guilty yet, but I'm getting there. I'd appreciate it if you were on the same path as me, for once."

A grand sigh slips past Zoya's lips and she shakes her head and resuming her walk to the stable, "I'm still leaving. Kirigan has ordered me to return to our Kribirsk camp and take the time to reassess my priorities."

   "Whatever for?" Thalia shrieks, mouth falling open as she trails after Zoya. "Saints forbid a fight get out of hand once in a while. Also, I'm sorry, but was it not his Ivan that sent Erik to the hospital wing last week, or did I imagine that?"

They enter the stable together, and Zoya is quiet. She begins to formulate a small plan in her mind as Zoya takes up the task of preparing an Arabian horse, Bela, for the journey. She can't possibly let Zoya leave, not without her. But how on earth was she supposed to piss Kirigan off enough that he sent her away, too?

In her life, Thalia has made a series of Very Bad Decisions. They varied from trying a soup that (put simply) tasted like manure, to leaving home, and to the one that she has made now. The decisions of her past have had little effect on her life with her fellow Grisha, but this. . . well, this could endanger it inviably.

None the matter. Thalia had formed a sort of alliance with Zoya after years of being scared shitless when she so much as walked into the room, and she wasn't going to let that all go down the drain already.

She casts a fleeting glance at Zoya, "Don't leave without me."

Zoya's shouts go unheard as Thalia practically sprints back to the Little Palace, racing through the hallways toward her chambers. She packs a bag of essentials, her toothbrush, a framed photo of her and Zaria, Mila, and spare clothes and a few bits and pieces. She leaves her bag at the doorway, ready to be picked up at a moments notice, and takes off once more.

It seems her luck is in bloom, for as soon as she reaches the hospital wing, Alina Starkov is clearly awake. And General Kirigan is by her bedside. The two are speaking in hushed voices, like their conversation is a secret.

   "This is cosy," she loudly remarks, strolling in with her hands locked behind her back. Alina looks shocked at her appearance, and Thalia grins. "Hi, Alina. Feeling okay?"

Kirigan nearly scowls, but seems to think better of it, "Miss Vassilieva, to what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"

Thalia shrugs nonsensically, "I thought I'd see if Alina would like to accompany me on a stroll of the grounds. A grand tour, if you will. I think it would do her good to get some fresh air."

   "I don't think that's a very good—"

But Alina looks simply delighted, "I'd love to!"

The look on her face almost makes Thalia feel bad for what she is going to do. Almost.

"That's that, then," Thalia beams. She walks forward to the bed, extending a hand to help Alina up. Once she pulls her boots back on, Thalia loops their arms together. "Shall we?"

Alina only nods, allowing Thalia to lead the way. Kirigan's glare burns into her skull, but she's not particularly bothered. She's about to do something that will make her wish he'd never let her step foot in this palace. Thalia makes small talk as they wander the grounds, and is in the middle of an interesting fact about the flowerbeds when Alina cuts her off abruptly.

   "Why did you bring me out here?"

Thalia brushes it off, "For a walk, obviously."

But that answer does not seem to please Alina. "Forgive me, Thalia, but I don't really believe that. You seem like the type of girl who only does things for a reason."

A laugh bubbles in her throat and she steers them around a corner, into a crowded area that perfectly services her needs. She brings their walking to a stop, leaning against a wall. "I suppose you'd be right about that."

   "I suspected so," Alina replies, her left eyebrow lifted. "So, care to fill me in? Is it about Mal?"

The chiming of a bell reminds Thalia that time is ticking, and she faces Alina fully. This really wasn't how she wanted their second interaction to go. But she must do what has to be done.

"I'm really sorry about this."

Alina stares, "About what—"

Thalia does not know what Alina had planned to say, for her fist comes into contact with the girls face before she can finish.