The next morning dawned grey and misty. For the first time in her life, Alina went into the city - heavily guarded, of course, she wasn't taking any chances with fanatics - to talk with the people. Not as Sankta Alina. Not even as the Sun Summoner; Aleksandra had taken her black kefta, likely to remove the temptation and get them both in trouble. No, she just went as herself, dressed in a simple pale yellow dress and black shawl. After that awful interaction with Sister Polina, she refused to act a saint, or a princess. She would just be herself, and people could make of that what they will.

It took a lot to leave her chambers that morning; even getting out of bed required a considerable force of will. She had been dreading this visit, knowing exactly how crowds reacted to her. The grabbing hands were bad, but the high expectations were worse. Alina had always known she would never live up to them, nor would she want to. Previously, they had been irritating preconceptions forced upon her. Now, however, there was a level of guilt that had not been there before. They thought her a saviour, when she was working to destabilise the kingdom and hand it over to a man even she didn't trust with that much power.

Once outside, she found she was actually glad for the chance to leave the claustrophobic walls of the Grand Palace. The sun was a white circle behind the fog, and she could barely see twenty feet ahead of her. Tendrils of mist drifted past her face as she rode through the inner city and into the outer, surrounded by a vigilant company of guards; there both to protect her and to stop her escaping.

As if they could.

No one had been told of this visit outside of the palace, so there were no crowds waiting for her. People stopped and stared at the armed escort, but most didn't recognise her out of her kefta and glanced away. Alina relished in it; the anonymity, going as under the radar as anyone surrounded by a dozen guards could. Aleksandra rode at her side, dressed not in the white of a Grand Palace servant, but in what appeared to be her nicest dress, in a shade of dark blue.

Alina's first stop - after sending Aleksandra off with two guards to go and get her cat from her father's house - was an orphanage in the back end of the city. She wasn't the motherly type, but did know how to interact with children from all of the young Grisha at the Little Palace. The building was shabby and dirty, as were the children in the yard outside. The boys were kicking a pig's bladder football around, a group of young girls were skipping with a threadbare rope, and there were several older girls - some only a few years younger than she was - sitting on the wall, chatting away.

Alina dismounted her horse and walked up to the gates. "Hey, you lot," She called out to the group of four girls on the wall. "Can you get whoever is in charge here? I'd like to speak to them,"

They eyed each other in the conspiratorial way only teenage girls could, before one of the bolder ones spoke, with a wary look at the royal guards. "Who's asking?"

"I'm here on behalf of Alina Starkova," Perhaps it made her a coward, but she did not want to see the way their demeanour changed when they realised who she was. She wasn't dressed as a highborn lady or a Grisha; it was believable that she was some sort of servant.

Four pairs of eyes widened, and they looked at the palace guards in a new light.

"Fucking hell," One girl exclaimed. "Alina Starkova, as in, the Sun Saint? Who's going to marry the Prince? Oh, don't tell her I swore. I don't want to go to hell!"

"Why's she bothering with the likes of us?" Another asked, baffled.

"You look Shu, like how she's meant to look. Are you her maid?" Eager questions were fired at her.

"What's she like? Is she very beautiful? I've only seen her riding through a crowd, barely saw her face,"

"Did she really fight in a battle?"

"Did you see her make the hole in the Fold?"

Alina couldn't help but grin, easily boosting herself up onto the wall to sit beside them, ignoring the protests of her guards. "She's tired of seeing the nobles at court throw away money on pointless luxuries and wanted to give some gifts to people who actually need it. She grew up as poor as you, before she came to Os Alta,"

"She grew up poor and now she's going to be a royal princess," One of the girls sighed. "It's like a fairytale,"

"I don't know," Another muttered, glancing at Alina, clearly not having missed her weak attempt at hiding her distaste at that. "People talk, about the Prince. More so lately,"

"Is it true he's got the clap?" The bolder girl giggled, making the others gasp.

"Anya!"

Alina snorted. "I wouldn't know," She examined her fingernails, neither confirming nor denying, but making her implication very obvious. "The company I've seen him in makes you wonder, though,"

That earned a bout of laughter. Further into the yard, some of the boys had broken away from kicking around a football and were now flinging small stones at each other in a makeshift catapult.

"I heard he's a nasty lech," Another said. "I know a girl who worked at the palace and had to run off in the night to get him to leave her alone. Is that true?"

She nodded once, then put a finger to her lips. "That's all you'll hear from me," She glanced at the guards. Luckily, these were orphan girls, used to hiding things from their caretakers. They caught on quickly, though plenty of knowing looks were exchanged amongst them and she knew that everyone would be talking about it later. The fact they had heard it at all showed how effectively Mila's rumours had spread.

"What's she like, then?" A girl asked. "The Sun Summoner?"

Alina opened her mouth to reply, only to catch sight of a catapult-flung stone being pelted at high speed towards her face, a shout of warning heard too late from the boys; it was clearly an accident. Without thinking, her hands came up and a bright burst of light incinerated the stone before it could take her eye out. Some of the girls on the wall who had been close enough to feel the heat shrieked in shock, several loud curses ringing out before the whole yard went silent, everyone gawping at her.

"You're not a maid!" One of the girls exclaimed, eyes wide. "You're her - Alina Starkova!"

She couldn't have planned a more dramatic reveal if she tried, she thought with a sinking stomach.

"So sorry, m'lady - Sankta - " They had no idea how to address her. "I meant no disrespect, we didn't know - "

"No, no, none of that," Alina added hastily. "Just talk to me like you were before, I'm barely three years older than you all look,"

"But you're going to be - "

"My official title is still 'Miss Alina Starkova'. Not Lady, not Princess and definitely not Sankta,"

"I swore in front of you - does that mean I'm going to hell?"

That made her laugh, at least. "The day I'm offended by someone saying 'fuck' is the day I put myself out my misery. And I couldn't send anyone to hell even if I wanted to. I meant what I said about donating gifts to the orphanage, too. Where do I go to talk to a matron or whoever's in charge?"

"I'll get her," One of the girls jumped at the chance to help, slipping down off the wall and hurrying inside.

By now, other children had gathered around them, curiosity overcoming their fear.

"No disrespect intended, milady, or whatever we're meant to call you, but what are you doing in this shithole?" An older boy asked.

"You can't talk to a saint like that!" His friend elbowed him.

"She just said she's not a saint!"

"Talk to me how you like, I don't care," Alina shrugged. "And can't I get to know the city a little better? I've lived here nearly ten years, after all,"

"Did the Darkling keep you locked away?" A younger girl asked, wide eyed. "Like a princess in a story being locked up by a wicked old man?"

"Not like a princess in a story," She snorted. No fairytale princess had ever acted quite like her. "And he's not that wicked," Well. That one was debatable. "He is old, though,"

"But you will be a princess - you're going to marry the Prince!"

"Lucky me," She couldn't help but pull a face, earning several laughs from the older students.

"I saw the Darkling riding out of the city with you, months ago, and thought he was the King until this lot told me I was being stupid," A boy said.

She laughed. "Oh, he'd like that. When I met the King for the first time, I thought it seemed wrong that the Darkling had to bow," That might be the one upside to marrying Vasily, actually; he'd have to bow to her. Oh, that was too tempting an image. Alina frowned, wondering if it was worth going along with the wedding just for that.

"Your Highness," A harried looking older woman came hurrying out of the orphanage, looking stunned to see that Alina was really there, dropping into a clumsy curtsey. "I apologise that I wasn't here to greet you properly - I did not expect - I - children, line up now, show some respect! You're talking to the future Queen!"

Saints, if only her father could see her now. He'd smack her round the head, to prevent her getting any airs and graces. "It's fine," Alina hopped down off the wall. "I'm not here to see everyone bow and scrape. Forgive me for coming unannounced, and call me Alina, please. What's your name?" She smiled her warmest smile and held out her hand to shake.

The woman took it unsurely, after a second of staring. "I - Maria, your - Alina. I - " She broke off. "Pardon me, but what on earth are you doing here?"

"I heard you are the only orphanage in Os Alta? And that you are in dire need of funds - funds that the crown has not provided, despite the Queen being a sponsor since it opened?"

The woman became a little cagey. "I don't mean to speak ill of the Queen. But... I would agree we are in dire need, yes,"

Alina gestured to the guards waiting outside, surrounding the covered wagon that had followed them. "I've got some gifts with me - new sheets and blankets, children's clothes and shoes, ink, books and teaching supplies. Please, make a list of anything else you need and have it sent to me and I will be more than willing to provide,"

The woman blinked, too shocked to speak, as excited muttering broke out amongst the children. "That - that is extremely generous," She managed to stammer out. "More than we ever could have asked for. But... forgive me, but if you are not yet married into the royal family, how on earth did you afford..? Do you get an allowance? Or is all this from the Queen herself?"

Alina couldn't help but scoff. "As if the Queen cares about anything beyond getting Grisha Tailors to fix her own sagging skin," The children all snickered behind their hands, but she quickly continued as Maria looked aghast at the mild treason. "I don't get an allowance. I sent some of the guards out to the markets yesterday with several pieces of jewellery that I don't like. I had the diamonds cut off a particularly ugly dress too,"

"You sold your own jewels to buy blankets for orphans," The woman looked overwhelmed, close to tears, which made Alina feel uncomfortable.

"It's nothing, really. I have more jewellery than anyone needs," She usually only wore the sun-and-stars necklace the Darkling had given her for her sixteenth birthday, which was almost always around her neck. She had forgone it today, however.

"You have done us a great kindness," Maria said, sounding like there was a lump in her throat. "I can't thank you enough. You have done more for these children than... than any of the royals ever have," She struggled to say that last bit, but seemed to mean it very much, reaching out to clasp Alina's hands in her own wrinkled ones. "What people say about you is true. Sankta - "

"I'm not a saint," She said quickly. "Truly I'm not. I'm just Grisha - just someone who gives a shit," Because despite the fact that this visit had been intended to win herself - and by extension, other Grisha - popularity, she really did feel for these people. "I was the poorest of the poor before I was taken to the Little Palace. My family struggled through harsh winters and Shu raids, and no one ever came to help us. I could've ended up in one of these orphanages, if my Da had been a bit less paranoid. It doesn't seem right that the King is eating off golden plates while little children all over Ravka go to bed hungry,"

Maria smiled warmly. "The day you become Queen will be a fine day indeed, Alina,"

Her stomach twisted a little at that. She would never become Queen, not if she could help it. But she was the Sun Summoner; surely she could do good without a crown on her head and a position at the Darkling's side? Surely keeping that separation between them without marriage would only benefit the nation as a whole?

As the guards helped unload the contents of the wagon into the building, many children scrabbling to see what was in the dozens of crates, Alina entertained herself by sitting on the ground and playing with the remaining orphans. Most had gotten over their initial shyness and were soon swarming around her, begging for her to show off her powers. She found she didn't mind performing for them, making golden butterflies, galloping horses and magnificent stags fly around the yard. Young otkazat'sya children were easier to talk to than otkazat'sya adults, she realised; they didn't really know who she was, and if they did, they got over it quickly when she joked with them like she was no one special.

After over an hour, she had to bid goodbye to the clamouring children, as well as an extremely grateful Maria and other orphanage staff. By the time she left the orphanage, the mist was still in the air and her small party passed mostly unbothered; again, she did not look like the Sun Summoner. They rejoined Aleksandra, who was smiling and holding a huge fluffy cat in her arms, and continued on.

"You found Olga, then?" Alina grinned.

"Of course," The girl said. "Father wasn't home, thank the saints. My little brother was. He helped me find her,"

Her next stop was even more unprecedented of both a saint and a princess than the orphanage; a home for unmarried mothers. Such a place was deemed a charity, as the women who came there were desperate, often kicked out of their homes for having a child out of wedlock. Alina hated it the moment she walked inside and saw the sour-faced nuns that reminded her of the hateful Sister Polina. Judgemental, harsh and cruel.

"Sankta," They all lowered their heads in awe and respect as she entered, many dropping to their knees.

Alina acknowledged them coldly but politely; to the clear irritation of many of the religious women, she went straight to talking to the unmarried mothers. This was harder than talking to the children, as these women were well aware of who she was - and of their own status as 'soiled' - but she did her best to put them at ease, trying to converse like they were her friends. She hated the initial awestruck, worshipping gaze that people fixed her with, so became adept at quickly making them see her as a normal person. Once they got over themselves, she found she quite liked talking with everyone. She didn't play up the whole Sankta angle, but didn't deny it either; though she refused to bless people, she refused with a joke and a smile.

"I have supplies with me that I've been told mothers need for their children," She said, not trying to hide her own ignorance when it came to motherhood. "As a gift," The essentials were in there, true, but also things for the women that they would never buy for themselves; nice new clothes, hair ribbons, pretty trinkets to keep.

"Why?" One hollow-cheeked woman asked. "Why give anything to us? Most respectable folk consider us no better than whores. Some of us are, or were,"

"People say all kinds of things about me," Alina said. "Of course, I can't even begin to understand what you have been through, but I can sympathise. The Queen herself hates that I'm to marry her darling son," That earned a few laughs, bitter or otherwise. "Being called a whore by the Queen of Ravka is among my proudest achievements," More laughter.

Things warmed up after that, when the women realised she wasn't going to judge them, or insist on formalities. It all came out then; the harsh treatment from the nuns, the struggles and prejudice they faced every day, whilst the men that got them pregnant suffered no consequences. Once again, Alina asked for a list of other things they might need, which all of them contributed to. She did her best not to patronise them, well aware that her own position was beyond privileged and complaining about her life would make no friends, but did listen to them; that was most valuable of all, to people who were rarely listened to by anyone.

"Now tell me if this ain't true," One woman she spoke to asked. "But I'd heard that t'only reason you're marrying the Prince is that he had his way with you when you didn't want to, and it's to cover up any scandal,"

Alina's words stuck in her throat. Was this a Mila rumour? If it was, that was a low blow. But judging from how everyone around who heard looked keenly her way, scrutinising their new favourite person, it would be effective if she played along. What was the harm in agreeing? It wouldn't be traced back to her, not with the things everyone was saying about the Lantsovs at the moment - and she had heard a lot of Mila's rumours already repeated back at her today. This one was mainly true, after all; Vasily had tried to force her, and had assaulted countless serving girls before.

Her silence seemed to be confirmation enough, however. The young woman, only slightly older than she was herself, clasped Alina's hands and patted them with a knowing look. "Ah, saints bless you. I knew that family was rotten to the core. Know that we all stand with you," There was a murmur of angry agreement that ran through the room at that.

One of the nuns even stepped forward, a harsh-looking woman who many of the mothers shrank back from, exactly the sort Alina usually disliked. "Prince Vasily may be of royal blood, but even kings and queens are not above divine judgement. If he laid his hands on a holy Sankta, then he will suffer in the next life,"

"If he laid his hands on anyone who didn't want him to," Alina corrected, slightly sharply. "Even if a man touches a whore without her permission, he deserves to suffer,"

The rather stunned nun would no doubt have said something in response to that, when one of Alina's guards came and cleared his throat behind her, signifying he wanted a private word. She let herself be drawn aside. "We need to return to the palace now, milady. There's bad news from Ulensk, and they're worried these crowds will riot when they find out,"

"What news?" Alina asked. "What crowds?"

"Word spreads," The man said, taking her arm and attempting to escort her out. "Your visit to the orphanage has gathered people out in the streets to catch a glimpse of the Sun Summoner. We need to leave now,"

"Fine," Alina yanked her arm out of his grip as he tried to march her down the stairs. "But I can walk myself. Tell me more about Ulensk,"

"The First Army suffered a bloodbath against Fjerda," The man's face was grim as they both left the building and mounted their horses, the other guards falling in around them. "Thousands dead. As anyone with any sense could have predicted. They would have lost the battle entirely if the Second Army reinforcements hadn't got there in time. It's beyond me why the King ordered them to march, not wait. It was a hard fight even for the Second Army, when they arrived. Even the Darkling suffered an injury, and any battle that can harm that scary bastard..."

The guard seemed to realise who he was talking to then, clearing his throat and falling silent, but Alina didn't even have it in herself to laugh. She wasn't worried for the Darkling - she'd seen him survive a severed carotid artery with all the Healers he kept around in battle, he'd survive one measly injury - but she feared for the other Grisha she knew.

That was a damning blow against the King's reputation. She felt guilty for thinking it couldn't have come at a better time. Saints, Mila had said something big was on the way... No, surely not. One glance at Aleksandra showed she was thinking the same thing. But how could they even have arranged this?

Though it was odd that the Second Army reinforcements had taken so long to move from Chernast and Kribirsk to Ulensk. And it was a very convenient time; the King was furious at the Darkling for his relationship with Alina, and would want to be seen as capable without him, so his stubborn response could have been predicted. And Ivan, the Darkling's second-in-command, had very vehemently spoken in favour of waiting, almost like he was trying to stoke the King's anger and opposition; Alina herself had done the same, albeit unknowingly. And the Second Army had swooped in just in time to save the day from being a complete failure, winning the battle and making the King look dangerously foolish.

Rage gripped Alina at the thought of all those lives lost, and she cursed herself for ever thinking letting this man take the throne was a good idea. But then she realised that regardless of whether this was some awful plot, all they had done was set the stage. The King did not have to go against all the good advice given, stubbornly insisting on the best way to do things. He'd hung himself with the rope they had given him. Still, though. This was a valuable lesson to keep in mind; the Darkling did not care for otkazat'sya lives. She would have to be extremely careful when the time came to move the Fold.

The palace was in chaos when she returned. Shouting could be heard from within the council chambers as she walked past, just in time to see the lord whose son had been at Ulensk being forcibly escorted out by two guards.

"You killed him, Lantsov!" The distraught man was shouting over his shoulder back through the open door, tears running down his face. "My boy's blood is on your pampered hands!"

Alina saw an opportunity and took it. "Wait," She hurried up to the guards, stopping them with a raise of her hand; she had learned that getting people to follow orders was as easy as acting like she assumed they would. "Why are you being dragged away?"

"My son is dead because of the moronic actions of a stubborn, useless King," The lord raged, practically frothing at the mouth, mad in his grief. "If he had just waited for the thrice-damned Second Army to arrive, thousands of good soldiers wouldn't have lost their lives. My only son wouldn't have lost his life,"

"I'm so sorry," Alina said, honestly; her own guilt at her part in these events made it easy to sound sincere. "I - "

She was cut off by one of the guards. "Forgive me, my lady, but this man is being escorted to the cells for the night for disrespecting his Majesty - "

Alina silenced him with a look. "No. I don't believe he did anything wrong,"

"You forget yourself, Miss Starkova," The Tsar himself had risen from his chair in the council chambers, looking harried, trying to control the one thing he could in front of him; accusing eyes followed him from all around his own table. "You are not a princess yet, and even if you were, you have no right to overrule your King,"

Her day in the city had hardened her heart even further to the royals. She looked the Tsar dead in the eye, tone cold. "After Ulensk, I'm not sure you have a right to call yourself a King," Alina caught Aleksandra's eye; the girl was shaking her head for her to stop, but Alina just smiled with a slight shrug, hoping her intention came across. Tell everyone what happens next.

"How dare you?" The King blustered. "You forget your - "

But Alina had been holding herself back for too long, playing nice for too long. "How dare you?" She snarled back, light coming to both her palms. Everyone stepped back sharply, including the guards. "A lackwit could have told you that sending the First Army into that fight without Grisha reinforcement was a stupid idea. Most of your council advised exactly that. Fjerda was so strong that the Second Army barely won the battle for you. Now thousands of Ravkans are dead, your council is divided, and when the people hear of this they will be marching the streets crying out for your blood. I'm supposed to marry your son and be queen of this country - I'd rather it not be in ruins by the time that comes around,"

"You can't - how dare you - the disrespect - threatening me - " The Tsar was terrified, she could see it in his eyes. Everyone knew her power was great enough to tunnel through the Fold itself, strong enough to tip the balance of a battle, but no one here had ever seen her fight, let alone faced her.

"If you can't handle me shouting at you, then you'll need the saints to save you when the Darkling next returns to court," She laughed with derision. "I know you're scared of him, and that at least half of this council dislikes him, but he cares far more about Ravka than you ever have. Even if he didn't, at least he can be trusted to not send a large portion of our army to their deaths for the sake of his own pride - "

She saw the King's signal and sensed the guard's blow coming towards her head before it struck. It took everything in her not to move out the way. Blinding pain bloomed across her skull as Alina was struck to the floor, still conscious enough to register the outraged shouts from many of the council members. Aleksandra was the first at her side, dropping to her knees, quickly followed by Ivan, who snapped a warning at the guards to back off, ignoring the King's protests.

"You saw that coming," The Heartrender grumbled under his breath, moving his hands over her head. "You are lucky I have some skill at Healing. Selfish girl - what will happen if I return you to the Darkling with brain damage? Even more brain damage, I should say,"

She wanted to laugh but couldn't focus enough to, instead smiling dreamily as he worked on her. Ivan was underplaying his skill at Healing; she was already feeling better. "My knight in shining armour," Alina managed to mumble. He ignored her. "Oh, give me one more smile,"

"I never smiled at you - you are concussed and imaging things,"

She managed a laugh at that. "He did say you were quite funny, underneath it all. It just took a head injury for me to see it,"

The man scowled, still working. "Chatter away, little girl. At least now I know you are as mentally sound as you usually are,"

"Little? I'm only ten years younger than Fedyor,"

"And the General is at least eighty years older than me. What is your point?"

There was more shouting around them. Alina closed her eyes, trying to make it out, head throbbing as Ivan continued to work.

"With all due respect, Sire, you could've killed her! Or dealt a serious injury,"

"Quite honestly, she was making a good point,"

"She's a saint! A living saint! Do you not fear retribution?"

"You want her married to Prince Vasily - how is she to do that when she's bed-bound and drooling from a wrong blow to the head?"

"I'd rather not find out what the Black General does when you kill his Sun Summoner,"

Alina smiled, looking up at Ivan and Aleksandra, voice quiet. "I always said I wouldn't make myself a martyr - now look at me,"

Ivan shook his head in disgust. "I'm sending for a real Healer to check you over. Until then you are staying in bed,"

"She is spending a few days in the cells," The King overruled, face red with fury, fending off angry responses from most of his council. "The girl needs to learn some respect,"

And so, despite the Heartrender's gritted protests, Alina was carried off to the cells in manacles holding her hands apart. She didn't tell them that she could break out of these if she wanted, having practised extensively since her kidnapping and the time she nearly died in Fjerda. Let the whole palace see their beloved Sun Summoner being dragged to the dungeons in chains. The whole city would be talking about it by the time the day was out.

She wasn't thrown into the dungeons under the castle, of course. Not as a future princess. She was locked in a cell in the upper floors instead, reserved for noble prisoners. It had a wooden bed frame, thin straw mattress and a small window. Against Ivan's advice - and the Healer, when she arrived to ensure there was no lasting damage to her head - Alina spent the evening sat on the window ledge watching the city. It was a beautiful view from here; the perfect place to watch the riots unfold as the news of Ulensk spread.

The Apparat came to visit her at some point, bringing with him that tomb–and-incense-smell. It was almost overwhelming in such a small space.

"I should've known you'd pop up like a nasty disease the moment I can't escape a conversation with you," Alina narrowed her eyes, not moving from the windowsill. "Please leave. My head is throbbing enough without hearing whatever bullshit you've got to say,"

The man ignored her hostility, used to it by now. "The King should not have had you harmed," He said, in an amiable tone. "Whilst being dragged in chains through the castle for the sake of a just cause was a very saintly thing to orchestrate - "

"Fuck you,"

He continued like she hadn't spoken. " - I would rather you did not become a martyr in every sense of the word at eighteen years old,"

"Before you can use me, that is,"

He smiled somewhat regretfully. "Well, quite,"

There was a pause.

"Have you seen the riots?" Alina said with a faint grin. Even in the growing darkness, it was easy to see the hordes of angry people in the street. "I suppose you must be pleased as well, for your own twisted reasons. People are on my side, the armies' side, the Church's side - any side but the King's, really,"

"Pleased is not the word I'd use," The man said. "The Church would never condone violence in the streets, looting, fire-starting or treason,"

"But?" She saw his hesitation. "I tolerate you a lot more when you're honest. I know you're nowhere near as holy as you claim, and quite frankly that makes me respect you slightly more. Which is not saying much, mind. I still have as much respect for you as I do for the rancid entrails I trod in in the street earlier,"

The Apparat gave a tight smile. "You have a gift with words, Miss Starkova. I wish you would choose to use them for eloquent speeches, rather than your current obscene manner. But I will grant you my honest opinion, despite the crassness with which you asked. The people out there marching the streets are calling for their Sankta. Their future Queen. The moment you ascend the throne, things will start to change in Ravka, I believe,"

"I'm not so arrogant to think they are doing all this for me," She scoffed, not deigning to enlighten him that she would never be crowned Queen. "They're protesting everyone who died at Ulensk - protesting how unfair it is that the royals dine off golden plates whilst their children starve,"

"And you are the figurehead. The catalyst. With you, they tie divine power to their cause, validating it further. You see the power of accepting your sainthood?"

"I don't have to accept it. They believe it no matter what I say or do. You'd best believe I've tried convincing people otherwise,"

Another pause.

"I do wonder, on occasion," The Apparat said. "How you would be if you were raised in the Church, not the Little Palace,"

"Oh, I'd be long gone by now. Across the sea, most likely. Or else you'd have found me so unbearable and uncontrollable, you'd have had to have sent me to the Darkling. Not that he'd have let you keep his precious Sun Summoner from him in the first place. So if I were you, I'd stop wondering. I am never going to play the holy Sankta, and I am never going to trust you, nor anyone who puts too much faith in the saints,"

He heaved a sigh. "That does not surprise me, though it saddens my heart to hear. I wish you would be more open to alternative opinions, Miss Starkova. If you had accepted my offer of friendship, I may have been able to get you out of this cell,"

She didn't even look at him, eyes on the rioting city, tone perfectly unconcerned. "I'll be out of here in a few days at most without your help. That mob isn't calming down any time soon, not unless they're thrown a bone,"

The Apparat lingered, no doubt staring at her for a few more seconds, before leaving without another word. Good riddance.

*

Sure enough, they were forced to let her out after only two nights and a day. The people were demanding to see their Sun Summoner, having heard of her imprisonment for standing against the King. No other attempted measures were working, so Alina was escorted atop gates of the lower city to talk to the rioting crowds in an attempt to appease them.

"You will tell them that you are alive, well, and comfortable," The Apparat told her beforehand. Of course that hateful man had to be involved again. He spoke loudly to be heard over the cacophony from below. "That the rumours of your mistreatment were exaggerated, as well as the whispers of discontent between you and the King. That everyone should stop rioting and go home, or risk displeasing the saints,"

Were they really going to just let her talk to these crowds herself? That was an absolutely terrible idea on their part. There was even a Squaller over there to amplify her voice, who winked at her from a short distance away; the first Grisha that Alina had seen in months, other than Genya. Dodging a flying piece of what she hoped was rotten fruit, she stepped up to the battlements, sending up a beacon of light into the sky to attract the mob's attention. An almighty cheer went up, and she couldn't help but grin, exhilarated. At a distance, attention like this was... fine.

"My name is Alina Starkova, the Sun Summoner. I've been sent by the King to tell you all to stop the riots and go home," She said, the Squaller carrying her voice over the crowd. "And show you that I'm not really being tortured under the castle. His Majesty only locked me up for two days, because I was very disrespectful," Her tone was blatantly sarcastic. "I have since apologised for shouting at him that it's his fault thousands of good men died at Ulensk - "

Another roar from the crowd, which she fought to speak over.

" - and apologised for saying that if he hadn't tried to stroke his own ego by trying to win a battle without the Second Army, it wouldn't have happened - "

At this, the guards moved forward to cut her off, but she held them back with a raised, light-wielding palm. They couldn't have her appear in shackles, but trusting her without them was stupid. The crowd noise was increasing as they took in this spectacle, people roaring their approval at her words and display of power.

"- and he has been kind enough to let me come out here and prove that I am in good health," She paused, her tone becoming less mocking. "My condolences to those who lost someone dear to you at Ulensk. I myself am waiting for news of close friends. First and Second Army, Grisha and non-Grisha, are united in grief. Those lives did not have to be lost. Too much blood has been split, for the sake of the Tsar's pride,"

There had to have been thousands of people watching her. Listening to her, even if they couldn't see her. The streets were filled with the angry mob, eating out of the palm of her hand. It was a rush, similar to the one she felt before going into battle. Alina really shouldn't be trusted with all the power she had, she noted idly. And no one should have let her speak today. What a moronic decision.

Behind her the guards were growing more agitated, unable to get closer without risking getting scorched. The Squaller was smirking, on the right side of her protective barrier, continuing to raise the volume of her voice as the roar of the crowd grew and grew.

"My guards here are getting angry - they keep shouting 'treason'. Well, they shouldn't have let me speak after the King had me knocked out and locked in a cell," She paused for a moment, looking over her shoulder with a grin. "No, I'm not trying to incite a riot. These people make up their own minds. I can tell them to go home - which I have - but that doesn't mean they'll do it. Maybe they can tell those aren't my words. Riot all you like - perhaps the King will learn from it and not let his pride needlessly murder your sons and daughters,"

She dropped her hand, and the light went out.

The guards were on her in seconds. Alina was dragged away, hands wrenched apart and clamped in irons. She let them drag her, grin not fading, as behind her the lower city erupted into even more chaos.

*

That last scene was very fun to write. As if putting a vengeful Alina in front of an angry mob would do anything to calm them down. I hope I'm getting the right balance between having her grow up and try and restrain herself, and the same feral Alina we know and love breaking through when she gets bored of that. I really don't want her to lose her essence as a character as I loved writing her as an angry little girl and still want that part of her to be very much present. Please let me know what you think and where you want this story to go - thanks to everyone who has commented already, I really appreciate it!