Whilst the riots had died down about a week after they began, the common people had only settled into grumbling discontent, with the potential for things to kick off at the slightest spark. Alina was more popular than ever, with her frequent visits into the city, and her memorable speech still fresh in their minds. The Lantsovs, however, had never been so hated. Not just in the eyes of normal people, either; a false leak of a proposed new tax on houses of a certain size, on earnings over a certain threshold, led the nobles to be resentful too. Not to mention that both ends of the wealth spectrum were furious about the bloodbath at Ulensk; the sons of both farmers and lords had been lost because of the King's mistake.

Alina had given up the pretence of polite contriteness; there was no going back after that speech by the Outer City gates. The royals had been furious at her for inciting the riots - the King looked ready to order her hanged when she was dragged before him, still grinning to herself, and at him - but the rest of the council had managed to persuade him otherwise. Killing the Sun Summoner would do nothing to sooth the unrest, though scheduling a wedding date might, as the Apparat helpfully pointed out; not that they could have killed her even if they tried. So, to Alina's irritation, a date was set for her to marry Vasily in five weeks' time.

Only the knowledge that the Darkling would be here before then kept her sane, and that the King could not harm her for fear of his entire country turning against him even more. Any thin veil of civility with the royals was long gone, at least in private, though she was sure to keep up a friendly appearance with everyone else in court, as well as attend every council meeting, no longer biting her tongue. The King tried to object, but the council seemed less inclined to listen to him these days, and more often than not, he was politely ignored.

So it was rather concerning when the Queen summoned her to her reception chambers as a matter of 'great personal importance'.

She scowled as a servant let her into the room. "What do you want?"

"Alina, dear," Tatiana Lantsov smiled, acting disturbingly pleased to see her. "Look, there is a surprise guest here! He says he has come all the way from the Shu border, just for you - how sweet!"

Her stomach dropped as she took in the rugged figure of her father being escorted into the room by a palace guard, scowling and looking incredibly out of place. Stood behind the queen's chair, Genya's face dropped at the same time as Alina's. This was most definitely not part of the plan.

"Da," Alina ran to him at once, hissing, "What in hells' name are you doing here?"

"Why in hells' name are you dressed like that?" He snapped back with a scornful look at her court dress, not bothering to lower his voice. "And what's this nonsense I've been hearing about you marrying the Prince?"

"Please be polite," She implored, glancing warily at the queen who was stood with that awful smile fixed on her face, though it looked like there was a bad smell under her nose. The look on her father's face was, ironically, much the same. It was one thing Alina acting rude and not caring what they thought of her, because what could they really do against her? Even if they tried to harm her, she could easily defend herself. But it was quite another thing now she had someone to lose.

"Care to introduce us, my dear?" The woman said haughtily, her urge to torment Alina fighting with her urge to be a massive snob.

"Of course," Alina schooled her expression and smiled sickeningly. "You are both to be family in five short weeks, after all,"

Genya coughed, disguising a laugh.

"Dmitri Starkov," She said. "And her Majesty, Tsaritsa Tatianna Lantsova,"

Her father looked startled that the Queen was stood right in front of him. The situation was so absurd that Alina fought the mad urge to laugh, or cry, because what was he doing here? Did he not realise how dangerous it was, for her to have anyone she cared about within reach?

"Forgive me, moya Tsaritsa," She took her father's arm, tightening the grip painfully when he made to pull away, hoping he got the hint; she was likely as strong as he was. "My father has had a long journey, and we have not seen each other in over a year. Excuse us,"

She didn't wait for an answer, beyond caring what the Queen thought of her lack of decorum, practically frog-marching the man from the room. He was not as visibly poor as she remembered him during her childhood, and would look practically rich in Temgora, but still stood out like a sore thumb in the pristine, luxurious hallways in his brown leather coat and boots, dirty from travel.

Aleksandra fell in step behind them; her father frowned at her over his shoulder briefly, and the girl blinked impassively back at him. "Who's that?"

"Aleksandra," Alina said through gritted teeth. "She's a maid. But for the love of all that is good and holy, what are you doing here?"

"What the fuck was I supposed to do when I hear you're marrying some bloody Prince?" He thankfully got the hint and kept his rough voice low. People still stared after them in the corridors - they didn't look much alike at a glance, and were so obviously dressed as being from different social standings - but Alina decided that was a problem for later. "Is it the one you like, or the rapey one?"

"I - " She broke off, momentarily speechless, closing her eyes for a moment then opening them, resigning herself. "The rapey one. Vasily, first in line for the throne," Alina heard the intake of breath behind her that meant Aleksandra was holding back laughter. "Don't look at me like that, I'm not actually going to marry him, I have a plan - it just doesn't account for you. They're not going to let you leave now. You know that don't you?"

"I'd like to see them stop me. I'm not staying in this awful place any longer than I have to,"

"They are the King's guard. They might not be the oprichniki, but I can tell you now that they are more than capable of keeping you here,"

"Fine then, I'd like to see them stop you,"

"That's the problem, Da. I have to stay here. For at least another month - I'll explain why later. Which means that you will have to stay here too. They desperately want leverage over me after that stunt I pulled with the riots, and now you've given it to them,"

He laughed at that. "You started those riots? We heard about them. People are turning against that fat old King,"

"Shh," She hissed, wary that there were still people around them. "You can't talk like that here!" It was exhausting, being the responsible one. Was this how the Darkling felt when he took her to court as a child? "The King isn't that fat, or that old for that matter, but I agree with the sentiment. I didn't start the riots but I definitely made them worse,"

"Good girl. Now where's that awful man in black? Surprised he's not lurking around here somewhere. I heard he was busy saving the arses of the First Army up in Ulensk,"

"Is that what people are saying?" She snorted. "He'll love that. He hasn't returned to court yet, and won't until after the wedding. At least, that's what the King says," And thank the saints for that. Alina did not even want to find out how her father would react to the way the Darkling acted around her now.

"The one good idea that ruddy King has ever had," Her father grumbled, blessedly under his breath. "This is the first time I've seen you in ten years without that man hovering over your shoulder,"

"He doesn't like you either," She shrugged. "Thinks you're where I get my attitude problem from,"

"He'd be right, though I wouldn't call it a problem that you tell him where to go,"

Alina snorted. "I'm glad you agree," There was a pause as they neared the corridor her chambers were on. "I have missed you, Da," He grunted in response, and she grinned. Typical. "You didn't try to climb the walls again, did you?"

"No. I went to the guards in black," He said as they reached the door to her chambers. "Some of them knew me, from before. I asked to see you and they showed me here. Then the palace guards took over, realised who I was, and next thing I know, I'm stood in front of the bloody Queen - saints, is this where you sleep?" He looked over her ostentatious chambers, entirely unimpressed. "Wonder if they'd try so hard if they knew you slept on the floor in a mouldy old loft for your first nine winters,"

Back then, she had preferred sleeping out in the open in the mountains to the hovel they called a house. There were often times she preferred sleeping under the stars to her chambers in the Little Palace, never mind this cavernous, luxury prison.

"The one good thing about you being here is that the Queen is forced to remember her darling boy is betrothed to a dirty commoner," She glanced at Aleksandra. "Would you mind arranging him some chambers nearby, please?" The girl nodded with a small smirk and left.

"You've got your own maid," Her father scoffed. "If I was in my grave, I'd be turning in it,"

"Keep this up and that might be sooner than you think," Alina glared.

"Watch your mouth," He glared right back. "The one thing I'd expect that General to do right is get you to mind your tongue, and he couldn't even manage that,"

There was a dirty joke in there somewhere - blame Viktor's influence for that (saints, she missed her friends) - but in present company, Alina banished the thought. "You hypocrite. We're going to sit down and go through how you're going to have to act here, without getting dragged off to the cells. Because, for now at least, you are father to the future Queen. And that means people are going to notice you. Horrible, stuck-up, rich people. And you're going to hate it as much as I do,"

The look on his face made the whole situation almost worth it.

*

It was both hilarious and excruciating watching her father in court. He made no effort to adapt at all, and still wore his own clothes, though agreed to let Aleksandra take them to the laundry to be washed at least. He was followed by two guards, constantly, which he clearly hated but Alina told him to suck it up; it was his own fault he was here, and she wasn't going to let him ruin things. He was given a modest guest chamber, far from Alina's own, no doubt to prevent any joint escape attempts. To her surprise, he got on remarkably well with both of her maids, even if he drove Aleksandra to distraction with his refusal to adapt to palace life in any way.

She caught him once on the shooting range with the guards. None of them seemed to know how to address the commoner father of the future Queen, and he took full advantage of that, inviting himself to their training sessions because he was 'bored out of his mind' and daring them to turn him away. Alina arrived just to see him laughing to himself, having fired perfect shots across the board, whilst the guards' performance had been patchy at best.

Most painful of all was when the Queen insisted on inviting him and Alina to dinner, a week after his arrival. Despite being sent court-appropriate clothes, despite Alina pleading with him to just put them on, her father turned up stubbornly wearing his own. He scowled throughout the introductions, glaring at Vasily in particular, and Alina had to remind him to bow, as well as not to try and talk to Aleksandra or Kira whilst they were serving dinner.

All of this put her in a bad mood. Perhaps it was for this reason that she decided to provoke trouble. It was meant to be harmless, simply baiting the royals as she had been since the riots, for her own personal amusement. She probably should have seen it would end up becoming, well... not harmless.

"I've been meaning to ask after your dear Nikolai," Alina asked, with blatantly false pleasantness. "How is he? He hasn't replied to my letters for years, though who can blame him - going off to war, then to university in Kerch, must be so thrilling,"

"In truth we hear little of the errant boy," The King said, with the same distaste he always referred to his younger son with. It was somewhat of an open secret within this family that Nikolai was not a Lantsov, and a popular rumour in court.

"Perhaps that is for the best," Vasily said, voice lofty. "I know his absence pains you, Mother, but he never did have the right temperament for court,"

"Really? I disagree," Alina flashed a sharp smile, watching her betrothed bristle. "I always found him excellent company - he could always make me laugh, and he was so clever. Why, I think he could even make a good King," She let that hang in the air, watching the twitches of irritation, before adding, "If he was born first of course. Do you think he will return for the wedding? Surely he has heard the news by now," She hoped not. She did not want the first time she saw her friend in years to be in the process of overthrowing his entire family. "It is in four weeks' time, after all,"

"Who can say with Nikolai," Vasily let out a breath, like he was a mere nuisance. "Though I'm sure the day will be marvellous even without my brother there," There was a note of irritation to his words.

Alina couldn't help herself. "Oh, but it would be even more marvellous if he was,"

That set the tone for the whole evening, really. The whole time, it felt like something unpleasant was building, brewing to a boiling point. But things did not come to a head until the Queen turned to Alina's father during the final course, wearing a look of false sympathy.

"It must have been very hard, leaving Alina to the mercy of the Grisha so young,"

Her father looked at the woman like she was some kind of grotesque insect. "It was leave her with the Grisha or have the Shu snatch her and cut her up on a laboratory table. Your Highness," His rough accent, sounding just like her first home, was so much more preferable to the slimy, polished tones of the aristocracy. Despite spending so much time in court, even the Darkling did not talk like that; he was well-spoken, yes, but instead of pretension and riches, his voice contained a hint of an odd, old accent. She supposed that made sense, seeing as he had grown up speaking Old Ravkan.

The Queen pushed on. "Ah yes. You come from near the border, do you not?"

"You tell me - it's not like any of you people ever bothered to defend it," Those were the bitter words that every single person from Dva Stolba had always fantasised about telling those in charge, after centuries of raids, murder and rape. Alina revelled in the fact he had done so, even though she knew at once it was a mistake.

Of course, the Queen's smile soured, her next words aiming for the jugular. "Are you aware of the kind of man you abandoned your young daughter to, Mr Starkov?"

Oh, you nasty old hag, don't you dare.

"Well aware. Your Highness," Her father replied curtly.

"Are you sure?" The woman's tone was laced with malice.

"Tatiana," Even the King thought that was a bit far, which said a lot. "Let us leave such matters from the dinner table - it does not make for polite - conversation - " He broke off, coughing. He had been coughing a lot recently.

Alina supposed it was too much to hope that he was dying. "No, no," She smiled sharply, looking at the Queen, once again playing with fire just because she could, not thinking any further ahead than a few seconds now her temper was stoked. "Your Highness, please continue. What kind of man was I abandoned to?" She had always liked to take control of a situation by taking the words used to hurt her into her own hands. Whether that was wise or not was still up for debate.

"Would you rather I tell the truth or the lie?" The Queen all but spat. "At this point, I know not which tale is which. Neither is something any father wishes to hear about his daughter, even an uncouth gutter wretch like yours,"

Her father's eyes were so narrowed at Alina that he barely glanced at the Queen for the insult. "What the fuck does she mean by that, Lina?"

She ignored him with some effort, cringing from the childish fear driving her to obey that tone without question, turning on the older woman. "You judge me, knowing that your youngest son has no Lantsov blood in him at all?" Saints, she should stop talking now. But she didn't want to.

"Enough!" The King barked.

He was ignored by both women.

"You shameless liar!" The Queen's voice turned shrill; that had clearly crossed a line. She leaned forward, a white-knuckled grip on her silver spoon. "You have been given the honour of marrying the Crown Prince of Ravka, the future King, and yet you show no gratitude or decorum! Sankta Alina, what a joke! Your actions have bordered on treason - anyone else would have been hanged for publically disrespecting the Tsar and inciting a riot, yet you are rewarded with your life and the most desirable marriage in the kingdom,"

Finally, the woman had shown something with more substance than petty spite hidden behind a polite mask. Alina took great satisfaction in cracking that mask, and the person behind it. Any small amount of caution she might've had was thrown to the wind.

"I hope you realise," Behind her shark's smile, her tone belied her anger. "That my connection to your family is the one thing stopping your own people tearing down your gates and lynching you from your own battlements. You gain more than I do from marrying me into the family. I would not call my actions treason, if they are for the good of Ravka. That is where we differ,"

"What do you know of the good of Ravka!" The Queen scoffed. "You swan around this palace like you own it, disrespecting your betters at every turn. You are no saint, just a nasty little whore who wormed your way into the Darkling's bed at saints know how old. My son deserves better than a woman of such low morals,"

Alina laughed derisively. "If my morals are low, Prince Vasily's are buried in hell. You believe whatever common gossip reaches your ears about me, yet conveniently ignore that your son is a rapist, and a waste of good air - as is your husband, for that matter," She spoke over the outraged noises from Vasily and the King, the gasps of the Queen, grinning as she popped a grape into her mouth. "Bluster all you like, I don't care. What are you going to do, kill me?"

"I should strike you down where you stand for that awful slander, you vile girl," The King snarled, red in the face.

"By all means," She leaned forward in her chair, eyes gleaming in challenge, gesturing to summon a sparking ball of light in one raised hand, the other resting on the steak knife next to her plate. "Fucking try,"

There was a heavy silence, although the sounds of the power dynamic in the room shifting were deafening. For the first time, she felt the force of all the years ahead of her, felt mirrored on her face that look the Darkling sometimes wore; the disdain that one who has lived for half a millennia has for mere mortals.

Alina continued, any trace of a smile gone, the ball of light in her hand growing and sparking, sucking all other light in the room towards it. "People call me Sankta to comfort themselves. They want to believe my power is not unfamiliar or dangerous. They convince themselves this is true, that I am good, and pious, and kind, a beacon of holy light, guided by strict morals. But I never claimed to be a saint. Isn't that much more frightening?"

Another beat of silence. Two.

"She cannot marry our son," The Queen burst out, afraid, almost hysterical. "She cannot! She is a witch and a heathen, masquerading as a saint - she and that treacherous Darkling will be this family's ruin! She is his creature, through and through," Careful, your Fjerdan is showing.

"His creature," Alina scoffed faintly. Another thing people tell themselves. They knew the Darkling, after all, or thought they did. Knew his sense of order and restraint. Knew he could toe the line and show proper respect when required. And centuries of his 'ancestors' had loyally served the crown. But they didn't know her.

All three royals exchanged uneasy glances.

She smiled, getting to her feet, chair scraping on the stone floor. Her father did the same, face unreadable. She had almost forgotten he was there, and felt a stab of... something, that he had witnessed that exchange. "I'll leave you to discuss amongst yourselves,"

*

"Fucking hells," Her father said the moment they entered her chambers, having not spoken a word the entire walk back. "What was that, then? We'd better be leaving tonight, or else you have a death wish. You have the nerve to tell me to be polite, then talk to the fucking King and Queen like that?"

She threw herself down into one of the overstuffed chairs by the fireplace, veins still buzzing with the rage and thrill of what had just happened. "I don't regret it. They can't hurt us outside of petty insults,"

Her father did not sit. "You should regret it, stupid girl. You threatened them - scared them,"

"Look at what they've done, how they are, and tell me they don't deserve every bit of that fear,"

"No, you look at me, Lina!" He growled, as loudly as he thought wouldn't be heard outside. "I don't know much about kings and queens, but I know they don't get scared by much, and can't like it very much when they do. You dared someone who is used to absolute power to kill you, then laughed because you don't think they could,"

Alina glared at his words, angry, but he had a point and glared right back. Saints. If this man was lecturing her about being reckless and stupid, it must be bad. Now her anger was waning, the truth of the matter was sinking in.

She broke first, looking away, begrudging. "Sleep on the chaise in here tonight. And don't go anywhere without me,"

"Who the fuck do you think you are? I can defend myself,"

"A powerful Grisha, who can win a fight against a dozen armed guards, unlike you," She snapped. "They won't kill you, either - they'll use you to get me to do what they want. And most likely I'd do it, too,"

"Don't," He said. "You said it yourself - they won't kill me. They won't want to lose the one thing they have over you. If I'm caught, go. Leave me here,"

"You won't be caught if you stay with me," The thought made her stomach churn, as the foolishness of her actions sunk in. "And I'm not leaving you here - if it comes to it, I'll Cut through the whole palace to get you out,"

He looked at her long and hard, like only a father could. "Careful, Lina. You're not a saint, like you said, so don't go playing god,"

She had no reply to that, knowing the Darkling would have no such protests. "We can't just leave. Whilst I might hate it here, I need to make sure I keep a good reputation amongst the people who matter. Running off in the night won't do that,"

Both the commoners and courtiers would be disheartened to hear that the Sun Summoner had fled. Something they could not afford; they needed to love her, respect her, because it would be hard enough to get them to accept the Darkling on the throne anyway, let alone without her as Ravka's beloved. Ironic, really, that after everything she had done, everything that she was, it still came down to faith.

"What do you care about your reputation?"

Alina realised then that she had never told her father exactly why she was here, nor who she was helping put on the throne. And perhaps it was cowardly, but she wasn't going to. "I meant what I said at dinner. When they think I'm good and respectable, I'm revered as a saint. But if they turn against me, I become a demon, a witch,"

It wasn't exactly a lie. Aside from the fact she would rather be a witch than a holy sankta in the eyes of the people.

*

As it turned out, the King had more backbone than Alina had given him credit for. And she had scared him far more than she had thought.

The first clue was the doubling of her guard, the morning after the incident at dinner. It was irritating, and pointless - they had doubled her guard after the riots, too - but was to be expected.

The day after that, Genya slipped into her rooms furtively. "I haven't got long. I don't know what you said to them, Alina, but you've got them scared. You need to be careful,"

"They wouldn't dare - " She started to say, but her friend cut her off.

"Dare someone to kill you enough times, Alina, and they just might," Her face was deadly serious.

"Say the worst happens," Alina couldn't help but ask. "Have you got a way out?"

Genya smiled wryly. "The motivation to be a good spy is always the knowledge that if you're useful enough, Mila Tarasova will rescue you if you get captured,"

"And are you a good spy?"

"The very best," Her friend's face twisted into something like vicious amusement, leaning forward to murmur in her ear. "Who do you think has been poisoning the King?"

After dropping that bombshell, Genya slipped out of the room straight away, leaving Alina in fits of laughter.

Two days after that, Aleksandra disappeared. Only Kira came to attend her that morning; the normally cheerful and chatty maid was oddly subdued, not meeting Alina's eyes, and replying to her concerned questions in a meek, subservient voice.

Alina's pestering got through eventually, however; the girl suddenly burst into tears, hastily muffling her sobs with her sleeve. "They took her," Kira said, in barely more than a whisper, eyes darting nervously to the door. "The King's guards. They came in the night and dragged her away. They questioned me too - it was so awful, Alina, I thought they'd kill me - but I didn't know what they were talking about. Then they turned our room upside down looking for saints know what,"

Her stomach dropped. How had they found her out? "Did they find anything?"

Kira shook her head with a sniff, tears falling from her cheeks. "No. Nothing. What were they even looking for, Alina? Sasha's done nothing wrong,"

The rage was building inside her again. She wanted nothing more than to storm into the throne room where the King was holding audiences, and demand Aleksandra's return with light and fire. But clearly there were consequences for her actions. So Alina reined herself in.

"Stay in these rooms," She said. "If anyone asks, I am bathing," She turned to her father, who had been forced to not leave her vicinity - to both of their irritation - since that night at dinner. Her suite of rooms were more than large enough to house them both with a relative degree of privacy, but neither was used to constant company, nor being confined so much, and tempers were frazzled. "Da, please stay here. They're not going to know I've gone,"

She gestured with her hands and vanished from sight.

"You said they're watching the doors to see if you sneak out," Her father's eyes narrowed. "That's why you couldn't get me out of this fucking place,"

"I've been practising," She said, distracted, focusing very hard. "Close the door behind me,"

"Practising what?" He scoffed, not seeing any apparent change. At least until she pressed a finger to her lips and opened the door, only to leave an identical copy of said door in its place, an illusion of the light. To the guards outside, it would still appear closed.

Thankfully, neither Kira or her father made any noise, although she noted the looks of surprise. Turning herself invisible, Alina silently padded through the conjured door, past the guards and down the hallway.

They had Aleksandra in the dungeons; the newer ones, on the first level, only slightly below the palace. A guard stood right outside the heavy wooden door, clearly wary of Alina's invisibility. There was no chance she was getting inside or even speaking to her friend without drawing attention. From what she could see through the tiny barred window in the door, the young woman looked at least healthy and relatively unharmed, despite being slouched against the opposite wall wearing a blank expression.

Cursing the uncharacteristic vigilance of the royal guards, Alina returned to her chambers.

Kira was there to greet her with a folded note. "I found it in your wardrobe," The maid said, handling it like it was a venomous snake. "I won't tell no one. I can barely read it, besides. Best of luck, but I'm scared. I want no part of whatever's in it," With that, face pale, she hurried out.

"What's it say?" Her father squinted at the letters. "Says your name on the front, doesn't it?" She always forgot her parents could barely read, that her letters to them were read aloud by her old schoolteacher or Mal.

Alina said nothing, unfolding the note and skimming over it. The handwriting was hurried, the ink smudged, and there was no doubt who it was from.

King hiring assassin. Be on guard. Getting closer to find out more - if you find this, they've got me. If so, don't try to get me out - Mila will, much less loud. A.

That was a lot of faith to put in the cold woman. But Aleksandra was valuable to the spymaster, she had to admit. As Alina's maid, she had a front row seat to most of the drama and animosity in the council chambers, as well as how both Alina and the Lantsovs were viewed amongst normal people and the aristocracy alike. She would have to swallow her fear for her friend, because any escape attempt she had to offer would be anything but subtle.

"The King is going to try to have me killed," She told her father, thinking out loud. "If it's an assassin, though... that means he's trying to make it quiet - he knows I'd be able to escape from a public execution. Or he wants to make it look accidental,"

Alina was finding it hard to be concerned about any assassin, but knew that she should follow Aleksandra's advice and be on her guard; it wasn't a matter of them being stronger than her, it was a matter of being caught by surprise. Saints, she couldn't even eat the food. It was lucky that her breakfast hadn't had anything slipped in it.

"We need to leave this place, Lina," Her father said. "Tonight. Don't be stupid and get yourself killed by staying,"

She opened her mouth, and may have agreed, had there not been a knock on the door. Both Alina and her father tensed, and she motioned for him to duck out of range of the door, just in case; after pulling a disgruntled face, he did so. Raising a hand behind her back, ready, she moved to open the door.

It was just a high-ranked servant. Or someone dressed like a high-ranked servant. "Good morning, Lady Starkova. A message from his royal highness, Prince Vasily,"

She still didn't let her guard down, even when she was offered an elegant note from a gloved hand, wary of skin-bourne poisons after overhearing some of Kasper and Katya's conversations. "You read it. Please,"

Obedience kicked in, and after a moment's confusion, the servant unfolded the note and read aloud. "My dearest Alina. It would please me greatly if you agreed to accompany me on a carriage ride through the city this afternoon at three o'clock. I would like to clear the air between us after dinner the other night. The people deserve to catch a glimpse of their future King and Queen together, besides - I know how you love to humour them, so if you would be so kind, humour me in this. Yours, Vasily,"

A beat of silence. She had never heard of a more blatant trap. As if Vasily would ever venture into the city, let alone with her. She likely wasn't even supposed to make it to the carriage. Were they planning on a tragic fall down the stairs?

Alina glanced at her father, then back at the servant. "Thank you. That's all,"

"Forgive me, my lady - what should I tell his Royal Highness? Will you accompany him?"

Her lip curled. "Yes. Nothing would please me more,"

*

This was supposed to be the end of the Little Palace segment but no, I ended up having to drag it out another chapter - I hope the plot isn't moving too slowly! This was an absolute bitch to write, hence the long wait between updates, so apologies for that. What did you think of this chapter, anyway? Thanks so much as ever to everyone who left comments!! I'm so pleased that so many people love this story, I've heard so many nice things from you all.