Despite the frost on the ground, Alina and her friends were sat in the grounds of the Little Palace, wrapped up warm, drinking mulled wine and enjoying the late-autumn afternoon sun. The whole thing held a bizarre sense of deja-vu. They could have been sixteen again, if it wasn't for Demetra clambering all over Alina, clumsily threading sprigs of frozen berries through her hair. 

She had taken to picking her sister up from the townhouse to give her some time away from their mother. Demetra was a happy child, given to laughter and bright smiles, and though there were a few tantrums, Saran Starkova threw bigger ones than any three-year-old ever could. Alina either ignored her sister's more petulant moods, or summoned colourful sparkles to distract her. When she did that, the little girl looked at her like she hung the stars themselves.

"You're surprisingly good with her," Kasper said. "I thought you hated children?"

"No," Alina said, wincing to avoid a berry sprig to the eye. "Just the idea of having my own. And I hate whining, bratty children. But Demi isn't bratty at all, are you?"

"Not bratty," The girl agreed.

"See?" She grinned at her friend, as Demetra climbed off Alina's lap and toddled a little away from the group to play in the dirt. Their mother would've had a fit - likely why Demetra was so fascinated by dirt and leaves in the first place - but Alina didn't see the harm.

"She'll grow up bratty," Zoya said. "Everyone will shower the Sun Summoner's sister with gifts and attention,"

"Misha turned out fine,"

"Misha grew up in a deprived border village. No one had any gifts to give, and any admiration for you just balanced out their dislike of the Shu," 

"Saints, tell it like it is," Alina snorted. "Well, I turned out fine, and I grew up being told I was more important than anyone else in the world,"

"Fine is a strong word to use," Viktor said.

She stung him on the leg with a small spark, which he hadn't learned to dodge after all this time. "Prick," A pause. "Where are Mal and Nikolai? I haven't seen either of them in days,"

"Mal's on duty," Nina shrugged. "I saw him earlier," Mal had integrated back into the oprichniki ranks as though he'd never left.

"I haven't been able to tear Nikolai away from the Fabrikator workshops since you introduced him," Zoya glared at Katya. "And when he's not there, he's sat in council meetings," 

"I thought you didn't like him that much," Katya said innocently. "I'm sure if I told him you miss him, he would - "

"I don't miss him," At the sea of raised eyebrows that met her defensive scoff, she evened her tone and returned to haughtiness. "My bed is getting rather cold, is all,"

Alina had spent too much time on the road pretending she couldn't hear what went on in Zoya's bed. "How do you think I feel? I haven't slept with anyone since Koba,"

"Oh, poor Alina," Viktor mocked her. "As if you couldn't just walk up to the Tsar whenever you like and drag him off to some secluded corner,"

"All that time spent shut away with him must be leading somewhere," Katya said slyly.

Alina shot her a look of betrayal. "From you as well!" 

She had indeed spent hours closeted away with the Grisha council and Aleksander, working on the parem problem. Tarasova had traced Bo Yul-Bayur and his son to Bhez Ju, where they'd been booked onto a ship to Ketterdam, but never arrived. Concerning, as it suggested the Kerch knew about parem and were helping Yul-Bayur, and someone else had found out and got to him first. The one glimmer of good news was that most of the labatory raids were successful. The Taivshral had suffered heavy losses at Saral Khana, but even there most of the captives had escaped alive, which, considering the odds, was an impressive feat.

"If I could get away with that, don't think for one second that I wouldn't use it to my advantage," Zoya said, far too honestly for Alina's liking. Since returning, the girl had been trying to make up for lost time and advance her own military career, by whichever means necessary. 

"Alina, your face," Nina snorted. "Not all of us care about becoming the next General of the Second Army, Zoya," 

"No, you just want a place in Tarasova's network," Alina said accusingly.

"Oh, what's the harm in applying?" Nina said. 

"Because you'll get it, that's why! All those languages, and your acting skills, I'm surprised she's not approached you already. You don't want to work for that woman, she's terrifying," 

"Well, I do," Nina laughed. "I'll let you be the first to say 'I told you so' if it goes wrong,"

"I - "

"Alina, where's your sister?" Kasper said suddenly, before she could reply to Nina.

"Shit," Alina could not see Demetra anywhere, scrambling to her feet, the others close behind (though Katya had to drag Viktor up with her). "She's dressed in bright pink, how can we not see her?" Their mother insisted on her wearing that ridiculous coat outside in winter.

"Is she in the lake?" Viktor suggested helpfully.

"I'll push you in and you can check," Alina raised her hands in a summoning formation, and was gratified when he shrunk back, not doubting she'd do it. "Demi! Demetra! Where the fuck have you gone?"

"There," Nina, having focused on Heartrending for a moment, pointed at a thicket not too far away. 

"Little rat," She marched forwards, and found a giggling child hiding in the bushes, having climbed up inside one of them. "You only get to come out with me if you don't run off! Otherwise I'll leave you with Mother,"

Demetra, like her sister, showed no remorse at being reprimanded. "I'm good at hiding, Lina," She wore a bright smile as she was dragged by the wrist back to the group.

"Well, you can't hide from a Heartrender," 

"Don't have children, Alina," Kasper said with a grin. "You can't even keep track of this one,"

*

Alina had been invited to accompany the Tsaritsa on a charity visit, and was not overly thrilled. Dasha seemed determined to prove to the public that the two of them were not rivals, to absolve her own guilt over the situation. But crowds reacted to Alina with a fervent insanity that even a Queen would not inspire, let alone when she had not been here for three years. Her own visits into the city had been low-key, unannounced and brief. Dasha's would include a retinue of guards; even the most modest royal ventures were riddled with pomp and circumstance. There would be no dodging crowds, which she supposed was the point - to be seen together, being friendly - but still.

Genya had talked her into it, in the end; if Alina didn't want more bother from this ridiculous situation, she'd best play along. So, wearing her black kefta, she found herself riding beside the Queen in the bright light of day, trying not to let the screaming crowds bother her. Saints, she wasn't used to this after years away. The three rows of oprichniki surrounding her on all sides did help, at least, but it still made her feel trapped in her own skin. 

Fedyor was amongst them, riding beside her, with another Heartrender on the other side of Dasha. "Just like old times, Alina," He said cheerfully.

"Oh, I'm so glad," She said through gritted teeth, her smile more of a rictus grin. 

Dasha kept her composure, of course, but seemed stunned by the crowds. "I thought appearing in public as Queen was overwhelming," She said. "But compared to this... Has it always been so...?"

"Chaotic? Claustrophobic? Fucking awful? Yes,"

"Please don't swear in public," The Queen said primly.

Alina just scoffed. "Get a grip,"

Dasha let out a shocked laugh, seeming more bemused than offended that anyone would talk to her like that.

"It used to be much worse," Fedyor continued, oblivious, batting away someone else. "We didn't know what to expect at first, and didn't have nearly enough guards. And you were such a little girl then - I'd never seen you so quiet! Nor shrink into the Darkling's side like that, either, when you'd sooner spit at him most of the time. Poor kid,"

She pulled a face. "I'm so glad everyone thought me a snivelling wreck cowering behind the Darkling's coat,"

Fedyor laughed. "Oh, you chose to take that the wrong way, Alina. No one could ever accuse you of cowering, especially not as a child. The years have tempered you, if anything. You were like a feral cat when you first arrived, picking fights with anyone you could, especially him,"

He was talking to distract her, and though she refused to acknowledge it, Alina appreciated it nonetheless. "You were the first one I met at the Little Palace,"

"You were a skinny, furious little thing that night, wrapped in a huge bloodstained kefta. I'd never seen anyone speak to him like that before. I couldn't even look him in the eye when I was that age,"

"I couldn't look him in the eye until three months after the wedding," Dasha added.

"Only three months? Dasha, you shameless tart," Alina grinned, and Fedyor hastily muffled his laugh with a cough as the Queen's mouth dropped open, unsure whether to be outraged or amused.

After making it through the crowds, they reached the school they were visiting. The children were all dressed in their Sunday best, assembled in lines in the yard. Anxious schoolmistresses shepherded them into place, as the oprichniki spread out to keep the crowds back from the high wall.

Dasha was good at this royalty nonsense, Alina quickly realised. Her voice was soft but earnest as she spoke to everyone from the headmistress to the smallest child. Someone must have warned her about sending sums of money - which had potential to be misspent - as instead she promised writing slates, books, new clothes and blackboards. She was composed, graceful and her manners were faultless; the picture of a Queen. Best of all, she came across as genuinely well-meaning, which no Lantsov had ever been; Tatiana wouldn't have been caught dead dirtying her skirts in a school yard. 

The only times she faltered was when things went off script, such as when one of the children made a joke or asked an odd question. But then Alina was there to rescue her with a quick reply and a grin. She was unable not to notice that even though the Tsaritsa was here being the perfect Queen, offering generous gifts, there was still more attention on her. No matter how gracious or kind or beautiful Dasha was, Alina outshone her without even wanting to. 

Word must have spread that she disliked her own sainthood, as the few clumsy attempts at prayers from the children when they met her - who had evidently been told to do so from their parents - were stifled by a harried-looking teacher. Everyone seemed to struggle with what to say to her, at first, until one brave boy broke the ice. 

"Lady Alina, can you show us the light?" He managed to blurt out before a teacher grabbed his elbow. "Please?"

"Tomas! What've we said about impertinent questions?"

"I said please!"

Alina had to laugh, lowering herself to the boy's level. "You did say please," She conjured a child-sized golden pony that made all the children exclaim in delight and break formation to crowd around it, petting its mane in awe and ignoring the attempts of the teachers to get them back in line. 

From the on, the event devolved from the formal affair the teachers had intended. Some girls approached Dasha and shyly asked her to teach them some 'fancy dances' - to which she agreed, delighted - and Alina heard many whisper they wished they were as pretty as the Queen was. Some of the boys, no doubt to win the approval of the beautiful Tsaritsa or their female classmates, joined in with the dancing too. 

The boys and girls around Alina were considerably less sophisticated. A game had developed where she shot not-that-hot balls of light at them, and they had to run from across the yard without getting hit. Overall, it was a surprisingly pleasant morning. The schoolyard had high walls, so she could only see the crowds outside through the gate, and the noise of them was easy enough to tune out. 

It was when they left the school that the trouble started.

Alina and Dasha had left arm-in-arm, however when a child called back from the gate, offering some well-meaning trinket, Dasha had doubled back to take it, straying outside the boundary of the guards. Before Alina was aware what was happening, a dirty hand had reached out of the crowd and grabbed the Queen's arm, tugging her away. Dasha cried out in surprise, the guards were shouting and drawing their rifles, only to stop dead. 

Alina shoved through them impatiently, only to realise that the ragged man who had snatched her had pushed a rusty pistol under Dasha's chin. Shit. The Tsaritsa was held tight against the stinking lowlife, and his back was to the walls of the school. She'd frozen like a terrified rabbit, scared out of her mind, not even trying to fight. The surrounding crowd of commoners booed and heckled; the Queen was popular, even if Alina was adored. But no one dared to get any closer, just in case whoever this madman was pulled the trigger.

"Step back," Alina moved between the guards and the fast-evolving hostage situation. "What do you want?" She asked the man. "Money?"

He had a horribly familiar manic look in his eye. "Sankta Alina!" She felt like groaning. "For my immortal soul, I will tear down the false Queen, and you can take your rightful place on the throne,"

For fuck's sake. This would do wonders for the rumours. "Don't kill her, you crazed fool. I don't want a throne,"

"You don't have to pretend to me," With his free hand, the man ripped up his shirt sleeve - actually ripped it, the lunatic - exposing a Soldat Sol tattoo. "Your will is my duty, Sankta!" 

"Look," Alina said, remembering the last hostage situation she'd been involved in, already visualising the Cut flying towards his head. "You've got two options. One, I put up a shield so these men can't shoot you, you let the Queen go unharmed and scurry off to whatever hole you came from. Two, I kill you myself quicker than you can pull that trigger,"

The man considered that, but then vigorously shook his head. "I'm being tested. You are testing my faith, to see if I'm a true believer. Don't worry, Sankta. I am yours," He cocked the gun, but Alina was ready, and reacted at once. Having released the Cut, she extended a shield over Dasha, as the pistol fired. 

When she heard a scream, she assumed the worst; the Cut was too fast for anyone to cry out, which meant it was Dasha. Alina ran over, shoving the mutilated corpse of the madman away and dropping to her knees in the bloody dirt. Dasha was on the ground, beautiful face screwed up in pain, her gown and face spattered with gore.

"Where are you hurt?" Alina demanded, grabbing both her hands. In shock, the woman just stared at her blankly, tears running down her face. Alina pinched her upper arm, hard, to snap her out of it.

"Ow!" 

"Did the bullet hit you?" All the blood made it hard to tell where she was injured.

"My - my - my foot hurts - "

Alina yanked up layers of skirts over the ankle, seeing blood soaking the satin shoe. "Shit. He must have fired just as the Cut hit him, throwing his aim. I'm so sorry, my shield was sloppy," She reached to unlace the shoe.

"No, don't touch it!" Dasha's hands scrabbled at her, trying to push her away.

"Would you rather your foot swells so much that we can't get it off?"

"She's right, your Grace," Fedyor was there now, on his knees next to Alina. "Although she could be more sympathetic. A gunshot wound to the foot is no joke,"

"He shot me in the foot?" The Queen's voice was horrified and faint. 

"Could be worse. He was going to shoot you in the head," That was not the best thing for Alina to say, as Dasha promptly fainted. Shit. She caught the Queen before her head hit the ground.

"Probably for the best," Fedyor grimaced. "She's not a soldier. If your heinous bedside manner didn't make her pass out, I'd have done it myself,"

Alina rolled her eyes, taking the shoe off. "How's your Healing?"

"Could be better. Certainly not up to working on the Tsaritsa. Now she's unconscious, I'll keep her there and control the blood flow,"

Alina got to her feet, turning to the oprichniki. "Then two of you, ride ahead to the Little Palace for a Healer, and a carriage - I'm not hauling the Queen of Ravka through crowded streets on the back of a horse like a sack of potatoes,"

"Should we inform the Tsar?" One of the men asked.

She hadn't thought of that. "I suppose," Would he care? He would certainly be angry if he was blindsided and looked ignorant. "Carriage and Healer first, though. You three and Fedyor, help me get her Grace into the school and out of sight. The rest of you, keep the crowd back - tell them she's fine," The faint had not helped the mass panic, as now people were calling out that the Queen was dead.

Alina lifted Dasha - the woman could not have weighed much more than a hundred pounds - carrying her back into the school for some privacy before the carriage and Healers arrived. 

*

She left the Tsaritsa in the hands of concerned servants and ladies once they reached the Grand Palace. Now, fully healed and awake, Alina had come back to check on her.

"Thanks for rescuing me," She said with a smile. "What a hero you are, saving the Queen,"

"Was that sarcasm I hear?" Alina grinned. "I'd hardly stand back and let him shoot you,"

"You did let him shoot me," 

"In the foot. Which the Healers fixed in five minutes,"

"I suppose," Dasha did not look convinced. "But I was so scared, Alina,"

That made her pause. "Sorry - I forget how frightening it is. Not many get that close, anymore,"

"Did they ever?"

"Oh, yes," She laughed. "The last time was in Fjerda, I think. I was fifteen. Druskelle held my head underwater. I've always been terrified of drowning - I refused to sit in a bathtub as a child, and still don't like my whole face being submerged, even in bathwater,"

"Surely you are not scared of bathtubs,"

"I promise you, I am," She had to smile. "You sound far too pleased,"

"I'm just glad you're scared of something. It makes you more real,"

Alina wasn't quite sure how to take that. "I'm scared of lots of things. Bathtubs, yes, and you saw how I hated those crowds earlier. It's fine to be scared,"

"Perhaps. But I felt so helpless, Alina. You've never been helpless,"

She wasn't going to get into how she lost her finger. "You don't have to be. I can show you how to escape from someone holding you from behind. I could teach you to use a gun, if you like,"

"That's hardly appropriate for a Queen,"

"Well it's nothing to me. But you'll be kicking yourself next time you've got a gun to your head,"

The cogs were turning in Dasha's mind, her lips pressed together. "Very well. But no one can see,"

"Any excuse to get me alone, hm?" She grinned, enjoying how the Tsaritsa blushed. 

"And," Dasha continued. "Having watched me humiliate myself, I want to see you attend something more ladylike with me after,"

"I dislike the implication I will humiliate myself in polite company," Alina pulled a face. "You have a deal, so long as it's not afternoon tea with the ladies. I refuse,"

The Queen giggled. "I meant the theatre, or a ballet. Those teas are exhausting, never mind when I'm trying to keep my sisters from your throat," Her smile faded abruptly. "I can't stop thinking about what happened this morning. I know I shall feel his awful breath on my ear when I close my eyes to sleep," 

"Twenty-two years of hellish nightmares and I've yet to find a solution," Alina said with a grimace. "Sleeping tonic will knock you out, but the Healers will take it away far too soon. When they do, vodka works, a little - "

"Vodka?"

"Alina's judgement is questionable," Aleksander stepped into the room, making both of them jump. "When she was thirteen, she brewed a hallucinogenic tonic from a medieval Alkemi's book, in an attempt to sleep better,"

She shuddered at the memory. "There's still a vial of it in my bedside drawer. Saints only know what it would do to a person nearly ten years later,"

"Slip it into the pitcher of wine at a Grand Palace council meeting and I'll tell you," He muttered, making her snort with laughter. 

"I am well, thank you for asking," Dasha said.

Alina's eyes widened at the unexpected barb. "Quite right, Dasha,"

"Forgive me, Darya," His tone was dry. "I found you discussing vodka with Alina, suggesting you are in perfect health,"

"What a prize you are," Alina rolled her eyes. 

"You've a lot to say for yourself, Alina," Aleksander said. "Given that you have two of the most powerful amplifiers the world has ever seen - as you remind me at every turn - how is it that whilst the Tsaritsa was under your watch, she ended up not only being taken hostage by a crazed lunatic, but also shot in the foot?"

"I stopped her being shot dead. You don't have to turn every conversation into a lecture," 

"This is not a lecture," He said. "It is gloating. As I said, brute force is not everything,"

"As if you'd have been able to do better!"

"If I was there, the otkazat'sya rabble would have been kept well back,"

"That rather undermines the point of charity,"

"I know you're too selfish to die for charity, Alina - "

"Pot kettle black,"

" - So perhaps your time away has made your head as soft as your morals?"

"As soft as you've become living the life of a King? If I poked your stomach, I bet my finger would disappear," Again, that was a blatant lie, but it did shut him up for half a second, which made it worth it.

"Enough!" They both broke off abruptly at Dasha's uncharacteristic outburst. "My foot burns, my head aches and I have bruises all over from Alina manhandling me into the school. If you're going to bicker like brother and sister, then please leave me in peace," 

"Brother and sister?" Alina choked out.

"An old married couple, then," The Queen waved a hand. "I don't care if the two of you are the most powerful Grisha to ever live - get out,"

She looked at Aleksander, and he looked back, both of them a little incredulous. 

"Fair enough," Alina shrugged, grabbing his arm. "Come on, then. Sleep well, Dasha - and stand up for yourself more often! Having a backbone suits you,"

The Tsaritsa just gave an unladylike scoff, which made her smile as she left the room. The door shut behind them, and then it was just her and Aleksander.

He turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "Your finger would disappear? Of all the ridiculous things you've ever said to me..."

Alina had to laugh. "Did that one touch a nerve?"

That was not dignified with a response, though his lips did twitch. "Near five-hundred years and you still manage to fling insults at me that no one has before,"

"I don't think you've ever truly insulted me," She said. "Threatened, yes. Irritated, certainly. But all the things you think are insults - brazen, brat, insufferable - I take as compliments,"

"Dull," He dropped casually.

"Dull?" She blinked, the word taking a second to sink in. "What the hells do you mean, dull?"

He smiled, surprisingly boyish. "Touch a nerve?"

Alina let out a curse that would have made Dasha faint all over again. "I'll show you dull, you rotten bastard,"

A passing guard overheard and turned his head in shock, making her snort with laughter. 

*

Grisha had not been permitted to legally marry when the Lantsovs ruled, just as they had not been allowed to own property, and had to serve in the Second Army for life or face being shot for desertion. Alina - young as she had been, with no interest in owning property, a phobia of marriage, and little concept of life outside the Second Army - had not appreciated the unfairness of this. If anything, she was enraged that somehow her betrothal to Vasily was an exception to the rule. Aleksander, of course, had changed these laws within weeks of becoming Tsar, resulting in an influx of Grisha weddings in the last few years, Genya and David amongst them.

Knowing her limited wardrobe, Genya had had a dress made for Alina. It wasn't something she would have chosen for herself. The skirts were far too full, a proper ball dress the likes of which she hadn't worn since her betrothal, not to mention they were white. The bodice was golden, with bold gold embroidery spreading onto the skirts - she liked that part, at least - and the neckline was her favoured off-the-shoulder, though the sleeves were rather flimsy for her taste.

She swept into Genya's chamber the morning of the wedding wearing the dress, an eager young girl of about fourteen years old in tow.

"White?" Alina raised an eyebrow. "When have I ever worn white?"

"If it was black, it would look too much like the dress you wore to the royal wedding," Genya shrugged, unaplogetic. "You're welcome, by the way. You look beautiful," She paused, glancing at the girl at Alina's side. "Who's this?"

Alina grinned. "Amari here arrived at the Little Palace from Novyi Zem just last week. They put her with the Healers but her true talent is Tailoring. I thought that instead of doing your own face, for once you can be treated to someone else doing it for you,"

"I worked for a rich lady back home, Miss Safina," The girl said brightly. "She was very particular - I have a lot of experience,"

Genya's mouth was slightly open, her brows furrowed and for an awful moment, Alina wondered if she was annoyed or upset. But then her friend flung herself at Alina, wrapping her in a suffocating hug.

"You're the best friend anyone could ask for," She said a little tearily into her neck. She then stepped back, appraising Amari with her usual brisk tone. "To show me what you can do, you can practice on Alina,"

Amari grinned, gesturing to a nearby chair. "If you please, Miss Starkova,"

Alina opened her mouth in protest, but caught between the two expectant Tailors she gave up and sat in the chair. "Fine,"

*

Genya and David's wedding was a simple but lovely affair. The ceremony was held in the small chapel of the Little Palace, and was relatively private, however the reception was in the dining hall, which everyone in residence would attend. Weddings were a good excuse for a slightly-fancier-than-usual meal, with music and dancing, where everyone could dress up a little. Or a lot, in the case of Genya and her close friends; the bride had insisted on them looking their best.

David Kostyk spent the evening looking at Genya like he wasn't quite sure how this had all happened. Awkward and antisocial though he might be, there was no doubt in his love and care for her. And Genya had never looked quite as radiant as she did that day. Between them, her and Amari had done an excellent job.

"You two, next?" Alina suggested innocently, stood in a corner with Nikolai and Zoya. 

Zoya scoffed. "As if I'd want the last name Lantsov,"

"In which case, I have excellent news for both of us," Nikolai said, making Alina laugh.

"You were awfully quick to shut down the idea, Zoya. As if you've never wondered how Nikolai Nazyalensky would sound,"

"Both of you are petulant children," Zoya rolled her eyes. "The only thing more absurd would be Alina marrying the Darkling,"

She glanced over to where Aleksander stood in a corner, talking with his usual companions at events like this, high-ranking Grisha in the Second Army. In the Little Palace, things were less formal than court, and though the Grisha still treated him with the utmost respect, it was that of a General, one of their own who had fought with them on the front lines for decades, rather than a King.

"That would be considerably more absurd," Nikolai said. "Not least because our illustrious Tsar is already joined in holy matrimony, and Alina seems to have a deathly allergy to wedding vows," 

"Should we get married, Nikolai?" Alina grinned. "To make both of them jealous?"

"You know I was going to offer, Alina darling, but you foiled my plans,"

"You what?" Zoya's eyes narrowed dangerously.

Alina choked on her drink. "I forgot about that,"

Nikolai smirked. "If I remember, I said that if we were married, we could remain as friends. You laughed, and said that if we were married, we would undoubtedly share a bed,"

"I don't remember that at all," Alina lied with a sideways glance at Zoya. "In fact, I don't think it even happened,"

"What do you mean you were going to ask Alina to marry you?" Zoya finally snapped.

"Politics, Zoya, politics. You can understand, surely? It was my only not-entirely-suicidal idea for winning the throne,"

"What, and dragging Alina down with you?"

"How are you not more angered by what she said to me?"

"I couldn't care less what she said to you - I've said I'd sleep with the Darkling a hundred times,"

Nikolai looked disgusted. "That sickens me to the stomach, truly. Anyone but him,"

Alina had been stepping back since the bickering started. "Well, you two have a lovely evening..." Before either of them could grab her, she slipped away, only spilling a small amount of her wine as she headed over to Mal. 

Her friend was on duty a short distance away, in his grey oprichniki uniform. "Destroying happy relationships, I see,"

"Happy is a strong word for those two," 

He snorted. "I can't say I miss the bickering from the road. It's funny for ten minutes, but then it gets tiring. How do both of them not get bored?"

"Beats me," She said. "All my arguments ended in much less time,"

"Yours weren't exactly bickering. More like yelling and violently threatening each other. Both of your hearts would give out if you kept that up for more than ten minutes,"

She laughed. "Speaking of, I'm going to go and irritate him in front of his men, before your captain disciplines you for getting distracted,"

"I'm protecting the Sun Summoner," Mal said with an unconcerned grin. "Officially, that's what I've been doing the last three years,"

"Oh, as if, Malyen!" Alina left her friend laughing behind her, making a beeline towards Aleksander.

Unfortunately, he saw her coming. Her lips twisted into a smile as he made excuses to those he was talking to, turning to intercept her before she got anywhere close. 

"Don't you want me embarrassing you in front of your friends?"

"That would be quite the feat. They are commanders in my army, not friends," 

They were headed to the large outside doors, which were open despite the snow on the ground outside; it would be stifling with them closed, with all the Grisha in the dining hall, drinking and dancing.

"How tragic. Are we friends?"

"No," 

"Ha! Dasha said she told you to be charming to me. I have yet to see any evidence of that,"

He showed no sign of being concerned about what else his wife might have told her. In fact, his lips curled into a smile. "Why should I, Alina, when you have all the charm of a fist to the face?"

"If I'm so unappealing, then you have all the grace of dead ditch rat,"

Aleksander actually laughed. "My point exactly. I can smell the alcohol on your breath,"

"Excellent. It's working," She snagged a mostly full bottle of wine from a nearby table and took a swig as they stepped outside, offering him the bottle and smiling at the look of disgust on his face. "You know, I've never seen you drink more than one glass of anything," 

"A lack of self control and good sense is hardly an admirable impression to give,"

Alina's smile grew as they descended the steps into the gardens, summoning a small ball of light so they weren't lost in darkness. "Oh, go on, you uptight old man. Just this once. It's a wedding, and all these Grisha are too drunk to remember anything else that happens,"

To her surprise, he hesitated, then took the bottle from her hand and had a healthy swig. There were no others this far outside, but she wished she had not been the only one to witness that.

"Saints. Has it been a hard week?"

"You should know. You've been in all the parem meetings, seeing how hopeless our efforts to prevent more atrocities to Grisha are. Not to mention that the Shu Queen's missive about Tomor Uul reached the Grand Palace council first,"

"Shit. Do the Shu even know what happened there? You tell anyone a single Grisha blew up a mountain and they'd laugh in your face," 

"They don't know for sure, but they suspect," He said. "It's easy to brush off their suspicions - it makes much more sense to blame it on the Taivshral and some specially Fabrikated dynamite, than you. But another visit to the Fold may be in order, in the coming months," He turned to her, his skin bright in the reflections off the snow, a wry smile twisting his lips. "It never ends, no matter what we do. Are you starting to see it now?"

In lieu of an earnest response, Alina just nodded mutely, offering the bottle of wine again. He laughed, taking another swig. 

"I want to go to the Fold," She said. "It makes sense to keep it strong near the border, but not widening the tunnel in the middle only serves to fatten the pockets of the lords who tax it,"

"If I remember, being able to tax the Fold was one of the conditions of West Ravkan surrender," He said, then paused. "Actually, do what you like. It will bring more trade into East Ravka, and I could not care less about angering Zlatan and his ilk. It's not as though they could fight back, now you've returned," The casual compliment took her aback. "I've had my fill appeasing greedy otkazat'sya lords. They are the same now as they were four-hundred years ago, pasting on a guise of civility and pretending we are the monsters that need taming,"

Alina had never heard him talk quite like this before. He had been more than rude about many of the nobility, and the things he'd said about the Lantsovs would make a nun's ears shrivel up, but it had never been quite as... raw as this. Nor as weary, though likely that had always been there, he just bothered to hide it. Why he wasn't hiding it now was another question.

"We are monsters in Ravka - animals, chattel, unholy devils everywhere else," She found herself saying. "The whole world against us, and yet here we stand, in this palace, where Grisha are safe enough to celebrate a wedding. You might not have eradicated prejudice and stupidity, but that doesn't mean you've done nothing,"

"Not nothing," He said. "But not enough,"

"You can't rule the world, Aleksander,"

"You could," It wasn't a serious suggestion, however true it might be.

Alina laughed. "As if I've got the patience, or the will. All jokes aside, how does it feel, truly, to not be the most powerful in the room after all this time?"

That earned a faint smile. "We have been through this, Alina. Brute force does not equal skill,"

"And I have more of both,"

"Entertain that delusion, if you like,"

She grinned, bumping her shoulder against his. "Delusional or not, what would you do without me when you're brooding and angry?"

A faint smile. "Remain so," 

"Does ranting at Dasha not help?" 

"She's not you," Came the reply.

As ever, when he said something uncharacteristically kind, it took her aback. "You knew that when you married her," They were far from the lights of the dining hall, now, his face barely illuminated by her light.

"If you'd said yes, Alina, you know that I wouldn't even know her name,"

A pause. "She's a better Queen than I'd ever be. Even if I said yes, I'd have still left. Probably sooner, for longer and on worse terms. I'd have been miserable, Aleksander,"

"And what if there was no crown?" He said with an odd twist to his lips. "No army, no court, no Ravka. Nothing to shackle yourself to. What then?"

"What if I couldn't summon the sun? If I was just a talented Inferni. Would you even ask?" At his silence, she smiled. "You know the answer to both those questions is no,"

"Who can say," He said. "We never have been, and never will be, faced with either question,"

A pause. 

"I hate how your court looks at me," Alina said. "Not because they think I'm a adultering whore - I couldn't care less about that - but because they think I shouldn't be seen beside you. I spent my childhood by your side in court - fought battles, sat through war councils, ended a dynasty, won a throne. I'm your only equal on this earth. Not just because I can level a mountain and move the Fold, but because I know you better than anyone. Yet, because of a few words said in church, they think I'm not worthy," Her tone sharpened, as she leaned in a little closer. "And that is your fault,"

Her words took him aback, but in his eye was that gleam of satisfaction she knew well as he caught her chin in his hand. "My fault," He granted, long fingers tracing her jaw. She tilted her head up, allowing the touch she would have wrenched away from before. "If it means anything at all, I didn't do it to hurt you. I did not think I could,"

Alina moved her lips closer to his, as though about to touch. It was surreal yet familiar being this close to him again. His touch had the same electrifying effect it always had, memories of pleasure-filled nights stirring involuntarily. It would be so easy to fall back into old habits; no one else was quite as good. "Will you make it up to me?" She murmured, as his other hand skimmed her waist, grey eyes holding her stare. But then she smiled, stepping sharply away and breaking the spell between them. "But until then..." 

Aleksander was irritatingly put-together considering the rejection. "We have eternity," Was all the bastard said, with a cold smile. "I can wait,"

Typical. With a grin, she picked up her wine bottle and raised it in a mock-toast to that. She left him outside without another word, heading back towards the dining hall with a swish of white skirts. She took the light with her, of course. He would be fine in the dark.

*

Alina had the nerve to invite the Queen to come to her chambers at nine o'clock in the morning for her self-defence training, and had even more nerve to be asleep when the rather bemused oprichnik showed her in.

"Miss Starkova - her Majesty is here to see you,"

"You're still in bed!" Dasha gasped in amused delight, as Alina roused herself from between warm blankets with a yawn, her hair tousled and eyes bleary. "I thought the Sun Summoner would rise with the sun,"

Alina grinned, rubbing her eyes. "I wake at dawn when I'm sleeping rough. But a bed this comfortable is too sweet to leave that soon," She slid her legs out from under the blankets, sitting up.

Dasha's eyes widened. "What are you wearing?"

"A nightgown,"

The Queen's eyes followed the length of her leg, almost all the way up, her bare arms and shoulders, the deep neckline. "There's barely enough silk there to make a handkerchief,"

Alina laughed. "I get too hot at night inside. And it's pretty, isn't it?"

A lovely pink blush spread across Dasha's cheeks, as she tore her eyes away from Alina's legs. "You know it's pretty,"

Her smile grew. "So do you,"

Dasha flushed even more and glanced away, clearing her throat and changing the subject abruptly. "So. What will you have me do today? I refuse to wear a silk handkerchiefs,"

"As lovely as you'd look in one, of course not," Alina grinned. "I want you to wear trousers," At the look on Dasha's face, she elaborated. "No one will see us except a few Grisha, who won't bat an eye. We're going riding, into the woods, where I will teach you to shoot a gun and defend yourself. And how to escape someone holding you from behind," 

"I'll be absolutely hopeless at all those things, Alina, you know I will,"

"Then you can only improve, can't you?"

Alina gave the Queen a pair of her trousers, which had last fitted her when she was thirteen; much shorter and less full in the hip. 

"I feel... naked," She did not look thrilled.

"They suit you," Alina grinned. 

Dasha was not a natural rider. She had been taught how to sit prettily at a sedate pace, side saddle and wearing a heavy gown, with a groom walking beside to catch the bridle just in case. Alina had the Queen's favourite horse brought over from the royal stables, a placid dapple-grey gelding with a pretty face.

"Is that - ?"

"The Tsar's horse? Yes," Feeling rather petty after their conversation at the wedding, Alina had borrowed Aleksander's latest magnificent black stallion, a powerful and spirited creature standing at over seventeen hands high.

"Saints, you're going to ride that thing? Can you even reach the stirrup to mount from the ground?"

"Just about,"

Dasha shook her head, as Alina helped her onto the gelding. "You're quite mad. This feels strange," She was seated astride for the first time in her life.

"You'll be much more stable," Alina said. "And more comfortable. Both you and the horse,"

"Zima,"

"What?"

"That's his name. It means - "

"Winter in Old Ravkan. How original,"

"Well what's this one called!"

"You really think he names his horses?"

"I suppose you're right. Well how about you name him?"

Alina thought for a moment, then grinned. "Lepestok,"

It took a second for Dasha to get it, then she laughed that pretty, tinkling laugh of hers. "Petal? Ha! Perfect,"

It was not quite a wild gallop through the trees, but she got Dasha to try a gentle canter at least. The Queen seemed to relax once they were out of sight of anyone, indulging a side of herself that rarely saw the light of day. Alina tended to bring out that side of people; she was so unabashedly herself, it put others at ease.

They reached a clearing in the woods and dismounted, Alina pulling a small pistol out of her belt. "I am not the best shot," She admitted. "I never had to be, but all Second Army recruits learn to use a gun. So I can show you the basics. You'll never need to shoot anyone far off anyway - you'll only use it if all your guards can't help you,"

The next hour or so was spent showing Dasha how to load and reload the gun, and how to fire. She wasn't good by any means, but was not terrible; better than Alina had expected, honestly. And she tried, which was what counted.

"Here," Alina stepped behind the Queen, helping to position her hands and aim. "You'll get a less violent recoil holding it like this,"

"A suitor tried this with me, once," Dasha remarked, twisting her head to look up at Alina. 

She laughed, wondering if she'd read that right, making a joke in case she hadn't. "I hope you stamped on his foot. Actually, that gives me an idea,"

"Excuse me?" Dasha sounded concerned.

Alina set her pistol aside. "Pretend I'm that lunatic who shot you. Permission to manhandle you a little?" The Queen nodded mutely. "So if I've grabbed you like this - " She pulled them back to chest, miming a gun to the head, not willing to tempt fate using the real thing. " - What could you do to escape?"

"I can't hit you," Dasha said. "I can't reach. And I'm not strong enough to cause any damage,"

"True. But you could become a deadweight, to unbalance him. Try it - it's hard to support when you're not expecting it, even if you are tiny,"

After a moment's hesitation, Dasha let herself fall, and Alina had to stagger slightly, adjusting her grip. 

"See? And if that doesn't work, then you can pull his fingers apart like this - look where I'm holding you, take the first two and last two fingers and pull them in the opposite direction. Don't actually do it, I don't want ligament damage, but you get the idea?"

They continued in that vein for a while; Dasha was never going to be a skilled fighter, but a little knowledge had to be better than nothing. However, practicing hand-to-hand tended to put people in compromising positions. Whilst attempting to teach how to knock someone's knees out from under them, Dasha's latest attempt had resulted in Alina on her back on the forest floor, the other girl straddling her.

"I did it!" The Queen sounded giddy with success. 

"I'm impressed!" 

Alina did not point out that any real opponent would be fighting back. In fact, she was suddenly aware of the fact that their faces were now rather close together. Dasha seemed to have realised too, her smile fading as she looking down at her with those big blue eyes, rosy lips parted slightly. 

She wasn't sure which one of them closed the gap first. 

Dasha's lips were impossibly soft against her own, hesitant but less so with every passing moment. Alina pulled her close but let Dasha lead, let her deepen the kiss on her own, her fingers curling in Alina's hair. The girl wasn't at all inexperienced - though she refused to even consider where that experience came from - and let out a sound that had Alina's breath catch in her throat when her hands grazed Dasha's outer thigh. 

Then the Queen jerked back, shuffling away from Alina, panic in her eyes and breathing heavily. "I - I'm so sorry, I didn't - I don't know what came over me,"

Alina sat back on her knees. "Oh, none of that. Did it seem like I wasn't kissing you back?"

A hot blush was spreading over Dasha's cheeks. "Well, no, but don't you - don't you love him?"

"Don't you love Irina,"

"Of course I do,"

"And do you love him?"

"Saints, no,"

"Well, you've answered your own question," This was a ridiculous conversation, both sat in the dead leaves and twigs of the forest.

"Alina!" Dasha protested, though her lips did twitch. "How are you so... calm?"

"You're beautiful, interested, and I like you. What more is there to is? I've slept with more women than I care to count, you won't get any self-flagellation from me," 

"Well, then, I'm... married,"

Alina laughed, getting to her feet and offering Dasha a hand up. "Even you can barely get those words out with a straight face,"

Dasha had to smile faintly, taking her hand and standing, though was still on-edge. "He'll be furious,"

"And? Are you intending on telling him?"

"Alina, I'm a terrible liar,"

"He's hardly going to ask you. And if he does find out, trust me, you will not be the person he's angry with,"

All Dasha's arguments were dying in her mouth. Alina saw the moment she decided to stop thinking, eyes lifting to meet hers. 

"Your move. I'm not losing my head for making unwanted advances on the Tsaritsa,"

"Don't play coy now. You knew exactly what you were doing this whole morning," Dasha said, but stood on her tiptoes to press her lips to Alina's.

*

Having parted ways after an unexpectedly pleasurable morning, Alina rejoined Dasha at dusk in the Queen's chambers. The rooms were beautifully decorated, comfortable and tasteful. Pale pinks, greens and blues, plush cushions and delicate furnishings. It was like entering another world. A large bookshelf took up an entire wall of the sitting room, and an artist's easel was set up in a bright corner. As the rooms took up a whole side of the building, there were windows facing east, south and west. The light was rosy, turning the young Tsaritsa's blonde hair and pale skin a delicate orange-pink where she was flicking through the wardrobe in a loose robe and stockings, shoulder-to-shoulder with a pretty handmaid. This must be Irina. 

Irina noticed her first with a start, hastily stepping back from the Queen with a flicker of guilt. "Miss Starkova!" Saints, if the girl and Dasha were actually going to have an affair rather than dance around each other endlessly, both of them would need to learn how to lie better.

Dasha also looked up in surprise, flushing slightly as she turned around, no doubt remembering their earlier encounter. "Oh, Alina! I'd have been sure to dress if I knew you were here already,"

"No need for modesty between friends," She smiled sharply, not missing Dasha's blush. "You're in less of a state now than you were earlier - did you get all those twigs out your hair," 

Irina's eyes shot up at that, before glancing down again like a demure servant, turning back to tend to the wardrobe. 

"Alina!" 

"What, it's a compliment! You were much better at hand-to-hand than I thought you'd be," Alina said innocently, then took pity on Dasha's reddening face, and Irina's turned back. "Do you like my dress? Genya said it was the most theatre-appropriate gown Zoya had,"

"I've never seen you in blue. You look lovely," Dasha blinked in that earnest way of hers. 

"You think?" Alina sat down on a nearby chaise. "I thought it was a bit low-cut considering I've not got much to fill it. And I refuse to resort to stuffing my bodice,"

The Queen laughed. "I was expecting you to turn up in a kefta, so I am pleasantly surprised," 

She remained whilst Dasha dressed, keeping up a steady flow of conversation. Irina's already weak mask grew more shaky with each time Alina made the Queen laugh or huff in outrage. They were just about ready to leave when Dasha turned to the handmaid with a smile.

"Oh, and Irina? I'll be late back, so please do take the evening off,"

Alina saw the poorly-smothered hurt on Irina's face, but she doubted Dasha did. 

"Of course, your Grace. Have a wonderful evening," The handmaid glanced to where Dasha gripped Alina's arm. For a moment, Alina thought she might blurt something out, a flash of resentment - jealousy - crossing her expression. But then she lowered her eyes, curtseying as they left. "Miss Starkova," 

Once they were in the carriage heading into the Inner City, Alina turned to Dasha. "That girl is in love with you. You can't expect her to make the first move - you're the Queen, her life would be ruined, if not in danger, if you didn't return her feelings,"

Dasha wrung her hands. "But what if you read it wrong? I couldn't bear her to look at me with disgust and judgement, Alina, I just couldn't,"

"Her face when you gave her the night off was what how I looked leaving your wedding ball," She said bluntly. "Heartbroken. I guarantee she will not be disgusted by you, but if you want her, you can't keep being a coward,"

"And what if I'm disgusted by myself?" Came the small reply. "I want to tell her, I really do, but my mother told me again and again how wrong it is, how sinful. I can't get that out of my head, even though I want to,"

"And this morning?" Alina said. "Did that feel sinful?"

Dasha thought for a moment. "No. After, a little, but when we were together... not at all. But you're you! You couldn't be ashamed by anything - with you, all of that felt ridiculous. And I'm not in love with you,"

"Less daunting," Alina had to grin. "Well, perhaps my lack of shame will do you some good. Saints know you could do with being less stuck in your own head. And, for my part, I hope I can infuriate Irina into confessing her undying love to you,"

"That's a horrible thing to say," The Tsaritsa said. "Did she really seem upset? I don't want to hurt her,"

"You're not. I am," Alina shrugged. "Perhaps, like you, she will realise a few hard truths. The pair of you are ridiculous, honestly. Three years of pining is too long for me to stomach,"

Having been harrassed by lickspittles upon entering the theatre, who were giddy over the two most famous women in Ravka attending together, the illuminated royal box was not exactly private. To Alina's relief, however, Dasha refused to have it more brightly lit than the stage, as the Lantsovs had insisted on. Her custom was to request it be made more gloomy, so people couldn't gawp at her and she could sit in the shadows in peace. 

That worked in their favour that evening. 

"Alina!" Dasha hissed in a scandalised whisper, feeling Alina's hand on her upper thigh over her skirts. 

"Apologies, your Majesty," Alina made to move her hand away, only for Dasha to grab her wrist. She smirked, not yet moving her hand back. "Yes or no, Dasha?"

A pause. "... Yes,"

The theatre that night was diverting, but the company even more so.

Having escorted the Queen back to her chambers - shutting the door so as not to catch the attention of the guards - Alina paused. "Well, that was a lovely evening," A wicked smile. "I never thought I'd enjoy watching a play so much,"

"Oh, hush," Dasha said, with a furtive glance at the door. "Do you - "

"Do I what?"

"Do you want to stay?" The Queen blurted out. 

Alina's smile grew. "I would like that very much,"

*

The next day, sat beside Aleksander in his state study with marks his wife left hidden under her collar, Alina's mood was hard to describe, though 'Smug' would be an accurate summation. We have an eternity, after all.

"Why am I here again?" She asked, lounging in her chair. "You can meet some Duke to talk about his finacial woes yourself, surely?"

He smirked, then. "Does the name Vinogradov sound familiar?"

"No,"

"Let me remind you - the boy Duke who confessed his undying love for you whilst his mother and I drew up terms of alliance,"

Alina sniggered. "Oh. Yes, him. I suppose I'm so used to people throwing themselves at my feet, that one more declaration of love is just a drop in the ocean," 

He scoffed. "Keep that to yourself, today. The boy despises me, doubtless because of his admiration of you. Even though his lands are impoverished and isolated, his funds draining, he is asking a high price to sell half of the estate off. The land is perfect for our new Fabrikator testing grounds, not that he knows that, and I do not want to throw money away,"

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood,"

"You are," His eyes narrowed a fraction in realisation. "A rather familiar good mood," Her stomach swooped embarrassingly at the fact he could read that kind of satisfaction on her face. "Who - "

She was saved from the temptation of telling him the truth by a knock on the door, annoucning the arrival of the Vinogradovs.

The young Duke - all of eighteen years old - offered Aleksander the respect of a Tsar, but was rather cold, especially in comparison to the greeting he gave Alina; an unpleasantly lingering kiss on the hand, that left a fleck of spittle. Throughout the discussions, he kept turning to her, enough that Aleksander had to give him a sharp warning once or twice. His widowed mother was infinitely more competent and seemed to view her son with nothing but weariness. It was a deathly boring couple of hours, made even more grating by the need to play nice with this presumptuous young fool, and Alina felt only relief when there was a break for the midday meal.

"Have you any thoughts on marriage, Miss Starkova?" Duke Vinogradov asked too eagerly, the pair of them walking several paces behind Aleksander and the Dowager Duchess. 

"Several," She replied, tired of keeping up the charade. "None of them favourable,"

He laughed like she had said the funniest joke ever told. "Surely you must grow tired of being treated as a mistress, spoken of with such dishonour by those at court? I would be more than willing to bear your tarnished reputation, if you would do me the honour of becoming my wife,"

As proposals went, it was an abysmal one. Alina decided to have some fun.

She left out a dramatic gasp, attracting the eyes of both Aleksander and Duchess Vinogradova. "But Sergei - " He had invited her to use his given name within seconds of being introduced. "Where on earth have you heard these terrible rumours? I am a holy Sankta, untouched by the hands of men! I even turned down the Tsar's proposal, as my vows are to the Church, and the Church alone!"

As the boy blustered and apologised for having offended her, and his despairing mother tried to smooth things over, Aleksander just raised a pointed eyebrow. She had to look away, for fear of laughing.

"Untouched by the hands of men?" He said, amused, after the Vinogradovs had gone, the price they got for their lands considerably lower than what it would have been if the Duke had not insulted a supposed revered figure of the church. "Since when, Alina, last night?"

"Not since I returned, actually, which is rather saintly," Not so untouched by the hands of your wife, however. He did not miss the distinction - she knew because the bastard looked less irate - but of course had no idea which lady she'd spent the night with. "As if any man would dare even go near me in Os Alta. Yuri Vasiliev still hasn't surfaced from his posting in Chernost, and it's been years,"

"Credit to you - it worked. Though Vinogradov had some nerve," 

"I was tempted to say yes, just to see the look on your face,"

"I'd have been perfectly civil," He said, with a cold smile. "But the whelp would have suffered a tragic accident on his journey home,"

*

Alina was at her mother's house, having dropped off her sister after an afternoon spent together. She was playing with the little girl on the rug, whilst her mother ranted about some poor woman she knew. 

"So I said to the dried-up tart, do you not know who my daughter is?" Saran Starkova paused, as though awaiting Alina's approval. She did not get it, so continued. "Well, I told her of course. And the old cow had the nerve to laugh in my face! Apparently where she's from, they think your mother is dead, that you were an orphan from before you could walk! How ridiculous,"

To save herself shrivelling up in embarrassment, Alina had largely tuned out of her mother's one-sided conversation. Instead, she summoned a ball of light for Demetra, making it change colours as her sister demanded.

"Pink, Lina! Like my coat," 

"I told that awful woman she was ignorant and uneducated. She laughed again and asked if I could even read - of course I can't, where does she think I grew up, a castle?"

That did make Alina laugh, though more at her mother than with her. She glanced up for a moment, about to point out the irony of that statement, but then, to her absolute horror, Demetra simply plucked the ball of light out of her hand, giggling as she did so.

"That wasn't - ?" Their mother started, breaking off as she saw the look on her face. "Did you - ?"

All Alina could do was let out a strangled sort of noise. She pulled herself together enough to extinguish the light, to which Demetra made a squawk of protest, stamping her foot. 

"No, Lina! Want it back," The girl clapped her hands together, and golden sparks flew. Demetra looked delighted, doing it again. "Look! Like you," 

Alina grabbed her hands to stop her, feeling increasingly nauseous, ignoring her sister's indignant struggling. "You saw that, didn't you?" Those weren't Inferni sparks.

Her mother's mouth was hanging open. "Is she - ?"

"Is this the first time she's done it?" She asked sharply.

"Yes," Saran Starkova sounded as stunned as she was. "I - I thought she was normal," Normal.

"I don't know what to do," Was all Alina could say, letting go of Demetra's wrists but unable to look away from her sister. She wanted to draw her close, keep the girl secret from everyone who'd use her, pressure her, manipulate her. She would not wish her own childhood on anyone, let alone her little sister. 

"How can we hope to hide it?" Her mother sounded rather helpless. "She's three - you weren't anywhere near that young," Interesting, that her first thought was to hide it. Did she regret not hiding Alina? At least she was thinking of her daughter, over what having borne two Sun Summoners would do for her at court. 

"Grisha powers normally show up between eight and twelve," Alina said. "Though from age six it's not uncommon, and there are some who are found as late as fourteen. After that, wasting sickness will kick in if they haven't been using their powers. But three,"  That was much more rare. The youngest in the Little Palace were the children of adult Grisha, and hadn't yet shown their powers. Genya was the youngest Alina knew of who had come from outside, and she had been five.

"She's not like you, Lina," Her mother said, almost pleading. "She's a little minx, but she's sweet and happy, and her childhood is so easy and comfortable. No raids, no hunger, no leaking roof. You were always such a cynical child. They'd tear her apart,"

"She's three," Alina said distantly. "We can teach her to be smart," She herself was much stronger than she was before she left. Stronger even than the Aleksander. Who was to do anything with her sister unless she said so? 

"They're not taking her away!" Her mother's pitch was raising. "I won't let them take her away, she's my baby, Lina, don't let them,"

"Give me time to think," Alina spoke over her, a sick feeling curdling in the pit of her stomach. "A few days. And keep her inside. Don't have visitors over either, say she's sick,"

Before she left, she gave Demetra a tight hug. The child had no idea the significance of what had happened, and hugged her back merrily like nothing was amiss. "Bye, Lina!"

"Bye Demi," She said, swallowing the lump in her throat.

*

God that took a long time to finish. Again, I promise I tried to cut it down! I know lots of you have been hoping for Alina and Dasha to sleep together, which I did have planned from the moment I wrote them together at Dasha's wedding and their dynamic was formed. Not to mention the bombshell of Demetra being a Sun Summoner. I've had that planned a while too, for reasons that will be revealed in time. I am not expecting this decision to be universally popular either so it will be interesting to hear what you all think.

Thanks so much for reading and sticking through this story even with the irregular updates! This story started out as a 'what if' - the first thing I wrote was the chapter from Aleksander's POV where Alina is drunk. I had not planned to make this anywhere near as long as it has got, so thanks everyone who has commented for the inspiration to keep going.