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𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝 𝕂𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕒𝕟

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The Winter Fete had arrived.

I could already hear the bustle of excited crowds outside. I sighed.

The Winter Fete had always brought back bad memories for me. Memories of the first and last time I'd celebrated it with her. But nevertheless, we celebrated it every year, because the Grisha deserve a day to just celebrate. There was a soft knock on the door. "Come in," I called, shrugging on my special silk kefta that all Grisha wore at events such as these.

The door swung open gently and Reagan slowly drifted in, looking around the room curiously before his eyes rested on me.

I took a breath inward. He looked stunning in his brand new silver kefta, the hems lined with gold and black thread that swirled in an intricate pattern. The silver silk made his already colourless eyes look white and his ink-black hair darker. "You look amazing," I said and watched the uncertainty and worry wash from his features.

"You told Tony to bring me here?"

"Yes," I walked across the room until I was standing only a few steps in front of him. "I wanted you to enter with me. Together. As father and son." My heart skipped a beat or two at the last words. Words I never thought I'd say. And from the looks of it, words Reagan never thought he'd hear.

I held my hand out to him and he took it.

"Everyone will be waiting for us in the throne room."

"The Little Palace has a throne room." Reagan said in surprise. Guess he had yet to figure out where all the Little Palace's doors lead.

I led him out into the empty hall, glimpsing the crowds of Grisha and ambassadors gathering outside from the window. "It's not as big as the Grand Palace's."

"Then why don't we celebrate there?" Reagan looked out the same window to the gigantic palace in the distance. It was empty, the lights weren't on. It was looking at the ruins of a century old castle, except this one was still fully intact. "That was the old palace, of an old and unfit king. We do not go in there."

"Then why keep it?" He asked as we continued to walk. "Why not just demolish it."

"It serves me as a reminder."

"A reminder of what?" He asked.

I peered down at him. When we had first met, he had barely been able to meet my eyes. It was nice to see him more comfortable in my presence. "A reminder of my accomplishments. This is now the new palace of Os Alta." I gestured to the space around us. "So, we celebrate here. We grow up here. We train here. We rule here. Here we are safe."

"I have another question," he said, curiosity spiking his youthful voice. "If you dethroned the previous king, why don't you go by 'your majesty'?"

"I'm not a fan of kings. So, I go by general." I glanced at him sideways, holding his gaze. "And so might you, one day."

Reagan went silent. Taking in my words.

We reached the staircase the curved down to the floor where guests were already talking, drinking and spreading the latest gossip. They were so loud I could hear what almost every person was saying, and I wasn't surprised when I learned Reagan was the most popular topic of conversation.

Reagan's hand slid from mine as he took a step back. An uncertain expression crossed his face and I worried that my previous words might've startled him. "What's wrong?"

"I just... Do you always feel like this?" He asked after searching for the right words. "Like the weight of the world's on your shoulders."

I turned to look at him head-on. "Yes."

"What if I screw up like I did in the Fold? What are those people expecting for me?"

"Nothing that you won't be ready for." My hand opened for his again. This time he was more hesitant to take it, his eyes glanced down at the staircase. His chest rose and fell slowly before I led him forward and we began to take the steps down. As soon as we appeared, all eyes centred on us. Reagan, in his silver kefta. Me in my midnight black one.

We were one of a kind. Different from even other Grisha. We stopped at the end of the staircase, allowing eyes to take us in. Reagan bit his lower lip slightly, a habit I'd noticed he had. "Relax. They're all excited to see you." I whispered, my hand moving to his back to lead him through the parting crowd.

We reached the throne room, where two grand chairs- no, thrones were waiting patiently for us. One big and black with trails of silver and a slightly lighter black curling around the back, legs and arms. One smaller and silver on the black throne's right, with gold and black highlights. I couldn't help but glance at the empty spot on the left. I'd once picture another throne there. A pearly white throne with gold and silver.

We didn't sit in them just yet. I glanced down at Reagan, still staring at the thrones. It must've been a bit overwhelming. He had grown up with nothing. Now he had everything. Power. A title. And maybe someday in the future, he'd take my place.

"Moi Soverennyi," A voice slurred behind us. I turned to find the Kerch ambassador standing behind us, drink in hand and a nervous smile on his pallid face. A group of ambassadors were waiting in a small group behind him. His beady black eyes flicked down to Reagan standing beside me quietly, looking like the picture of anxious. "And hello Moi Soverennyi Dva Sol'lune." I wasn't pleased by his tone of voice, as if he was speaking to an average child and not the Star Summoner and heir of Ravka. My displeasure must've been plain on my face as I caught him swallowing a bit in fright. "It's truly an honour to be here." He quickly added with a curt bow.

"Ambassador Ramuinel," I greeted. "It's a pleasure to have you here." It was a lie but rolled easily off my tongue.

"I have always enjoyed my visits to the Little Palace. Though I must say, it's a bit crowded in here." He chortled, his enormous belly bouncing as he did. I did my best to resist smiling as Reagan's eyes followed its jiggling motion with a stunned face. "Yes, yes." Ramuinel continued. "I've heard many things about you, Mr Starkov."

"Kirigan." Reagan cut in, much to both our surprise. "My last name's Kirigan." He peeked up at me, smiling widely. I returned to grin, resting my hand proudly on his shoulder.

"My apologies," the ambassador gave a polite little bow to the boy. "I've heard many things bout you, Mr Kirigan. Must say, a few of my friends," he flicked his hand to the group of ambassadors behind him. "They are fascinated by this. A Grisha with more than one ability. It's quite a discovery. A few of them though doubt it to be true." His next words, I realised, were mostly directed to me. "Might you be able to prove them wrong?" He asked, his left eyebrow rising.

"Sure-" Reagan replied in a warm tone, but my hand tightened slightly on his shoulder. He winced a bit in confusion.

"No," I answered over the top of him. Disappointment clouded Ramuinel's eyes and his mouth opened a bit in protest. I held up my spare hand. "We will not perform for the likes of you and your 'friends'. Have a good night." His mouth remained open and he made a small choking sound before turning and hobbling away.

"Why couldn't I just show them quickly?" Reagan asked innocently. "Why could I just prove-"

"We don't need to prove anything to them. When the time comes, you will show them all that you are capable of. Now," I released my tightened grip. "Why don't you enjoy the celebrations. I'll come find you later. There's something I want to show you."

The boy's eyes grew wide. "What is it?"

"You'll see when it arrives. Now go on. Tony should be around here somewhere." I nudged him a bit forward, watching him slip into the crowd.

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Good morning. Good evening.
(And for those fellow night owls out there) Good night- GO TO BED!?!

So happy to deliver this new chapter to you!

- DawnTide