Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

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By the time Aleksander's heart began to beat again, he had already stiffened. Though outwardly he was perfectly in control, everything around him seemed to blur, for now only Alina existed, being once again the center of his universe, along with all the fears and uncertainty that came with it, seeping beneath his skin like an icy wave that chilled his bones like the merzost had once.

People were still praising his name, seeking his protection and revenge, but the new Tsar knew that if anything had happened to his family, all else would now cease to matter. He didn't think his Sun Summoner was abusing their connection by haunting him without apparent reason. Something had happened in Os Alta, and the concern etched on her face suggested it was certainly no small matter. The Darkling needed to speak with her, and he had to do it quickly. Unfortunately, being in the midst of a crowd of Caryeva residents made the task nearly impossible. But he had to make sure she was safe. Otherwise, he wouldn't care about anything or anyone, only flooding the world with the darkness of his righteous rage.

I see that we can't talk now, Alina said, realizing the situation she was in even though the others gathered couldn't see her. Don't worry, Sasha, it can wait. I just urgently need your advice, she added, less worried now, just plain tired.

Are you all right?, Aleksander asked out of the corner of his mouth, hoping no one had noticed he was whispering to himself.

Yes, she assured him, approaching him in their tether and placing her hand on his cheek. But please, come to see me when you're alone. I need to consult you on an urgent matter.

The Black Tsar couldn't tell if it was her touch or the fact that his solnishka would surely convey her emotions to him if there were truly reason to fear for her and their children's safety.

Give me a few hours, he replied again from the corner of his mouth, savoring the sensual sensations their connection heightened. I'll come to you, he promised her, then a strange sense of loss filled him as his precious girl reluctantly withdrew her hand, yet looked tenderly into his eyes.

I'll wait, she assured him, then took a step back.

Soon she was fading into the morning mist, and the Darkling's surroundings were coming into focus.

Aleksander spent the next few hours completing the formalities related to the burial of traitors in shallow graves, according to local custom in southern Ravka, and issuing instructions for the search of Vasilsky's estate. Besides the public rooms, it turned out to contain numerous hidden passages and alcoves where the duke had been accumulating infamous evidence of his double life. There were crudely replicated keftas and correspondence with associates from Shu Han, who used pseudonyms to prevent their identities from being easily identified. This told the new Tsar that he was dealing with someone directly connected to the court in Ahmrat Yen, which was consistent with his suspicions that the restored Empress Makhi was attempting to undermine his rule by creating chaos that would later facilitate her invasion of Ravka. Searching the manor, however, could take several more hours, so Aleksander filled that time with audiences from local dignitaries, who reported on the situation at the border. The otkazats'ya had a different perspective on certain matters than Grisha and were preoccupied with different problems. Therefore, the Darkling never ignored them, even if he was ultimately aware of the mundane demands they presented.

His thoughts, however, were constantly occupied by Alina. Although, as always, he paid attention to everything concerning the kingdom's functioning, he himself was already looking forward to the evening when he would finally be alone and could check on his family. One of the magnates offered his ruler hospitality in his palace, but he would never cease to be a general, comfortable only among his soldiers. Placing the crown on his head had changed nothing. Aleksander remained, above all, the commander of his country's armed forces, who would always be the one to whom each of his commanders would answer. No one possessed his experience, and no one could plan the next military move as well as someone who knew the political realities like no one else in Ravka and who had been responsible for the defense of his kingdom for centuries. Now that The First Army was also under his command, The Black Tsar could develop a comprehensive strategy for dealing with their enemies, something that had always been beyond his reach during the Lantsov era. Now, all the generals reported their every move to him, and he had the final say in the matter of declaring war or peace. His opponents would thus accuse him of absolute power, but he realized that only he was capable of making uncomfortable decisions and taking full responsibility for them. The world called him a tyrant; it was said he would rule his homeland with an iron fist. But the truth was, no one had ever wanted to shoulder the burden of such choices. Aleksander, however, had faced them many times in the past and understood that remorse would not protect the people from destruction, famine, and misery. Being a good ruler also meant the ability to choose between greater and lesser evils, and this would always be the defining characteristic of his rule.

The Darkling had waited until Fedyor finally left his tent, then set aside the report he was reading on the military situation on the southern border, knowing that the moment had finally come when his fear and impatience would finally find an end. He refilled his oil lamp with kerosene to last until morning, then pushed himself away from the desk he'd been sitting at, heading towards the folding bed he'd slept on during his visit to Caryeva. The Black Tsar didn't need any luxuries to survive the night. Although the otkazats'ya looked at him with surprise and uncertainty, he wasn't about to explain himself to them, because in the field, the king transformed into one of his soldiers, and only in this way did Aleksander see his place among them.

The man rested his hands on the bed, spreading them wide. He relaxed, even though the apprehension had never truly left him since he'd seen Alina in the tether several hours earlier. He sensed that his solnishka was awake and waiting for his contact. Now they could communicate without major disruptions, as no one should disturb them at this late hour.

The Darkling closed his eyes, finding that thin, invisible thread in his subconscious, which he tugged gently. It was like falling from a great height at a very rapid pace, and the force of gravity from the other side steered him in the right direction, unmistakable. Soon, the air around him stirred again. It absorbed him deeply like a vortex, then expelled him with great force. The Black General found himself in his bedroom in The Grand Palace.

Alina was sitting on the bed with ‘Lives of the Saints’ in her hands, leafing through a thick volume in the light of a slightly dimmed oil lamp.

She didn't notice him immediately, deeply absorbed in her reading. However, a shiver in the air around her quickly betrayed his presence, and she placed the ornate book on the bed, quickly jumping up.

Sasha!, she squealed, falling into his arms without warning, rocking him slightly.

She laid her head on his chest, snuggling into it tightly.

Aleksander felt a sudden surge of peace he couldn't experience when they weren't close. The knowledge that his precious girl was now by his side, even if they were hundreds of kilometers apart, soothed his senses and told him that the possibility of using the tether hadn't turned out to be a bad idea after all.

How are you, milaya?, he asked her when she finally pulled away, tilting her head up to look into his eyes.

Fine, she assured him, reaching her hand to his cheeks and tenderly stroking them. And you?, she asked, searching the Darkling's face for any disturbing signs.

Me too, he told her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Unfortunately, I've had to punish a few traitors, but I'll tell you more about that when I return to Os Alta in a few days. And how are our summoners?, The Black Tsar wanted to know, glancing casually at the cradle near the window.

Alina's face showed a tenderness and love that couldn't be mistaken for anything else.

Good, she reassured him, realizing that her unexpected appearance in the world could have alarmed him greatly. They're fine, Sasha. But I can say with absolute certainty that they miss you.

Aleksander relaxed even more. He had lived an eternity of constant stress and had grown accustomed to it. What's more, he couldn't function in other realities. Always ready for action, always aware of his surroundings. The Darkling had often had to resist the temptation to visit his twins through the tether. He didn't want to bother them, though, and make this separation even more difficult for his Sun Summoner, who also missed him dearly, and if Velmora and Veralun became even more active, she would surely feel it all more keenly.

I miss them too, he replied, resting his forehead against hers for a moment and closing his eyes. All three of you.

The Black Tsar felt his solnishka's heart now beating loudly like a bell. Her affection for him left him no doubt. They were destined for each other, and all those centuries of waiting for her had finally come to an end, uniting them as The Making had planned.

Alina pulled away from him cautiously, looking him in the eye again. She wore only a flowing white nightgown and a black velvet robe. Her hair was disheveled, spilling over her shoulders. She was so beautiful that Aleksander's heart sank. And the second pang came when he realized that she finally belonged only to him.

I love you, she assured him, rising to the tips of her bare feet to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

The Darkling longed for nothing more than to deepen their caress and soothe the longing he now felt. Unfortunately, the thought of his reason for being here still loomed in the back of his mind, and he couldn't simply ignore it even if he wanted to.
So he allowed his solnishka to pull away and look him straight in the eye again. They understood each other without words, and Alina knew him well enough to understand that he expected an explanation from her. It tormented him, and she wasn't cruel. She took his hand and led him to the bed, where a moment later they were both sitting. The girl clasped her hands in her lap and picked up the thread, feeling that she had contributed to this whole mess, so it was her turn to take the initiative.

I need your advice, Sasha, but promise me you'll take this calmly, she asked, casually hinting that he himself might not have taken it so well.

A deep frown appeared on The Black Tsar's forehead, and his anxiety deepened.

Had The Apparat decided to strike in his absence? Had Igor not lived up to the expectations placed in him? Or perhaps the royal council had used his departure for Caryeva to try to put pressure on Alina, who was perhaps an easy target for them?

I know what you're thinking, his Sun Summoner said, reaching out to shake his hand. Me and our children are safe, and Horoshko is staying away from me for now beside our lessons. He clearly fears your wrath and isn't trying to argue with me, but is instead accepting the decisions I make on your behalf.

Good, Aleksander replied, only slightly less anxious.

Some of the worst-case scenarios had proven untrue, but for some reason, that only narrowed the scope of his suspicions, which were now spiraling in increasingly undesirable directions.

Sasha, forgive me for delaying this, but…, Alina took a deep breath and then bit her lower lip. But this is a very uncomfortable situation for me, she replied, the muscles in her body tensing, suggesting the discomfort she felt.

Alya, the Darkling warned her, losing his composure.

What could this be about? Was someone tormenting her, or had Ulla reappeared, bringing with her the nightmares?"

Yesterday, they brought back the political prisoners from Fjerda from the exchange you agreed to, his Sun Summoner finally said, making Aleksander stiffen. I suppose I don't need to tell you who was among them. I haven't seen him yet, but Horoshko left me in no doubt that they'd sent him back to us as well.

The Black Tsar felt a surge of rage and impatience. Sure, he'd expected it to happen soon, but not in his absence. The Fjerdans were in a particular hurry to fulfill their pact. They sensed that war with Shu Han was looming, and they weren't about to delay until the Ravkan prisons were filled with new prisoners, making the exchange process either more complicated or downright impossible. But for Alina herself, facing such a challenge proved to be a daunting task. Especially since among the captives was someone she absolutely should not see if she didn't feel strong enough to do so. Unfortunately, there was a law requiring the ruler to personally visit the cells of political prisoners. They were no ordinary thugs, and often became bargaining chips in negotiations with the power to which they belonged.

For Saints sake, the Darkling muttered to himself, understanding that he had placed this responsibility on his solnishka's shoulders.

Of course, she had to acclimate herself to the realities of ruling a kingdom, but for once, he would rather be in her shoes. He should have been the one to meet him first. He should have been the one to make him understand why he had brought him to Ravka, not to subject his precious girl to the stress of their confrontation. Malyen Oretsev had wronged them both, and on top of that, he had proven to be a traitor deserving nothing less than death. This, however, would be a gesture of mercy, and The Black Tsar wasn't willing to do that.

I know I should do it, Sasha, Alina said after a moment, barely managing to regain his now-distraction attention. But not telling you would be, in my eyes, an act of betrayal. I wouldn't feel good about doing it in your absence, and then only presenting you with a fait accompli. You have even more reason to hate Mal. And I couldn't hide it from you, because I know how much he's put us both through.

Aleksander knew that being a tether intensified his feelings, but he was internally shaking at the thought of what this scumbag would try to accomplish if his Sun Summoner visited him first. Sure, he'd brought him here on purpose, to torment him for the rest of his miserable life, but Alina wasn't supposed to be the one to confront him. Yet this was exactly what would happen, and the Darkling regretted that it would be his fault.

Tell Horoshko to hold off on demanding a visit until I return to Os Alta, he told his solnishka, doubting the chairman of the royal council would dare force his fiancée. It's only a few days, and you have every right to refuse what they're trying to force on you.

His Sun Summoner bit her lower lip again, clearly considering something. A hundred emotions flashed across her face, from doubt to relief. But determination quickly emerged from between them. Alina was brave and courageous, even if it didn't always end well for her. And that troubled the Darkling even more than what he'd just heard.

Sasha, I can handle it, she assured him, squeezing his hand. He can't take anything from me anymore. You know that. I understand you always try to protect me, but you can't keep me under a shelter forever. You gave me this power, so let me use it. I'm not afraid of him, nor of what he might say to me.

The Black Tsar frowned at this, as he hadn't expected his precious girl to offer him such a thing. He suspected that since she'd come to him through the tether, something had happened that she couldn't handle. Clearly, however, she simply didn't want to betray his trust. That was what she was truly worried about, not the confrontation with Mal, which the Darkling was far more concerned about than she was.

Alya, Aleksander warned her, the knowledge of their shared past would likely linger until his pathetic cousin finally passed away. He knows your weaknesses and might want to break you. And he certainly won't look at you as the future queen. He'll want to use you to provoke me into action. The fool is probably dreaming of death, because the Fjerdans don't mess around with their prisoners. You don't get out alive, and your psyche is torn to shreds. But I don't want to kill him, milaya. I want this scum to suffer until he dies of exhaustion.

Sasha, his Sun Summoner's hand moved from his wrist to his cheek. Please, trust me. I can't explain it to you, but I need this meeting. I was going to ask you for it anyway when you returned. As you say, he's interested in you, because if he still thinks about me, I'm just a means to an end. But I have something to tell him. I've been thinking about this ever since you told me everything.

The Darkling wasn't happy about this, knowing he'd be thinking about it until he was back in Os Alta. But his precious girl was right. He trusted her, which had proven to be a great achievement for him, and now he could deliver her a proof. He had already entrusted her with the rule of Ravka, and now it was time to give her the initiative in his personal life as well. Such a move was like wrestling with himself. Like a game of chess, with none other than himself as his opponent. But Aleksander had lived in this world too long to be unable to read the obvious signals. Alina would, of course, accept his choice and not stop loving him because of it, but her self-confidence would be severely shaken. And that would contradict everything he himself had tried to instill in her. And that was why he had to agree, even if the mere thought of Malyen Oretsev even glancing in his future wife's direction filled him with rage and disgust.

What will you answer me, Sasha?, his Sun Summoner asked him, seeing that he remained silent. Will you allow me to visit Mal, as the royal council expects of me?

Aleksander closed his eyes for a moment, then rubbed his palm across his face. He found his solnishka's hand, which rested unwaveringly on his cheek. He had no doubt that Alina no longer felt anything for his cousin. Those times were long gone. She deserved his trust, after all, she had already sacrificed so much for him, not to mention that they were now a family and had children together.

So the man opened his eyes, gazing deeply into her dark irises.

If you truly want it, milaya, just do it, he replied, though inside his body felt like quivering jelly.

She exhaled, clearly holding it there in anticipation.

Thank you, Sasha, she replied, resting her forehead against his, her relief even more obvious thanks to the tether intensifying all their sensations. I love you. Thank you for trusting me. I won't let you down. This will be the first and last time I see him, and after that, you can do whatever you want with him.

***

Alina was watching as the Volkvolny crew bustled about, completing the final formalities before sailing from the port in West Ravka to seek a new meaning in Mal's life. Her friend claimed that this voyage would allow him to rediscover himself, perhaps bringing them closer together again. True, they had only had this conversation the day before, but The Sun Summoner had been so consumed by it ever since that she hadn't got a wink of sleep at night. She was brave, after all. Besides, she had lost so much already that there wasn't much left to sacrifice. But something about Malyen's demeanor was bothering her, as if everything they had experienced up to that point had suddenly become irrelevant, as the amplifier's influence wore off, and with it, Mal had become a completely different person, one she didn't recognize.

The girl had been thinking about this all night and still couldn't find a proper explanation for it. She was supposed to be the future ruler, which might have somewhat terrified her friend and lover, but somehow it hadn't happened yet when Alina had been fighting for dominance over Ravka with Aleksander Morozova. Could it be that Malyen only cared about her because of the competition between men for her favor? Could it be that after eliminating his opponent, he had simply grown bored with her and decided to seek his lost freedom?

There was still the matter of Nikolai. Previously, Mal had seemed incredibly jealous of him, but now he seemed to wish them happiness in their new lives. It was a fake engagement, formed solely for political reasons. Yet, her friend accepted it with uncharacteristic indifference, even encouraging The Sun Summoner to enjoy the victory she was fighting for.

Alina was more afraid than she let on. She had also killed Aleksander to save Malyen, because beyond destroying the Fold, she was mortally afraid that the Darkling would never leave them alone until he himself perished. If her lover was to survive and spend the rest of his life with her, it wasn't possible with the Black General hot on their heels, stalking them until the future queen of Ravka caved to his pressure or until the merzost finally consumed him completely. It had been a somewhat selfish and naive act on her part, and now, for the first time, it dawned on her. Perhaps she had made a mistake she could never undo. Or perhaps she would even have to atone for it, which, considering everything she had already lost, seemed like an unimaginable punishment.

But what else was left? Hiding behind the bridge seemed even more foolish than wishing to have one last conversation with Mal. Alina wanted to believe that she hadn't been crying her eyes out all this time for nothing. And that she had chosen the right man from the two she had ever felt for him, because even though she hated Aleksander for everything he had done to her, she had never truly banished him from her heart.

The Sun Summoner took a deep breath and climbed the wooden steps onto the Volkvolny's deck, where everyone she knew began to bow to her, knowing her current status in Ravka. Inej and Tolya were nowhere to be seen, but the rest of the crew were performing a final inspection of the rigging before their imminent departure, a clear indication that she herself was running out of time to speak with Mal.

And then she finally spotted him. He was standing at the stern, a spyglass in his hands. He wore the pirate uniform Nikolai had given him, a richly decorated dark blue in a fashionable cut. Her friend and lover truly looked like a born captain who had sailed the seas his entire life. He probably still hadn't seen her either, because he didn't react even when Alina approached him. His expression showed considerable surprise when his gaze finally landed on her. Malyen carefully concealed his emotions, but it was undeniable that he wasn't thrilled about their next meeting, since they'd supposedly already discussed everything yesterday.

"Alina," he told her, not moving a step from his position at the stern. "What are you doing here?" he asked, forcing a smile. "I thought we had already cleared everything up."

The tone in which he spoke chilled the girl. Someone she had considered one of her closest friends her entire life was speaking to her as if she were a stranger, with whom he shared nothing more than common interests. The future queen of Ravka, however, decided not to cry over him. This task proved exceedingly difficult, as her heart, not for the first time in recent times, had shattered into tiny pieces despite her best efforts.

"I just wanted to see you one last time," she replied, unable to move. "There's no telling when you'll return. And I'm facing big changes, and I'd rather keep in my mind that you think fondly of me and that I have your support," she choked out, her voice breaking, unable to resist the humiliation she was experiencing.

Mal was standing there awkwardly, shifting the scope he held from one hand to the other. Finally, he folded it in one fluid motion, lowering it to his side.

"You've always had my support, Alina," he replied, his voice a bit dry, the corner of his mouth curling upward. "I don't think I need remind you how much I've sacrificed for you. If that's not support, I don't know what is. I don't quite understand what you want from me either." With that, he looked at her with a weary expression, as if he'd just returned from a battlefield and she'd been bombarding him with unnecessary questions.

The Sun Summoner had to admit his words chilled her a bit. Sure, Mal had died in The Fold, but she'd saved him. She'd broken her promise to Baghra, and it was still unclear what that meant. Perhaps nothing, or perhaps she'd have to pay dearly. Meanwhile, Mal was projecting himself as someone who had suffered the only casualty in this civil war. Their relationship fell apart because of it, but he didn't seem to regret it. There were moments when Alina wanted to howl with rage. This wasn't how she understood gratitude and love, and even if they were just illusions, they should at least be united by mutual respect.

I don't feel it anymore, would haunt her in nightmares forever, reminding her of everything that had happened to her.

She didn't like that Aleksander seemed to be sincerely warning her of the consequences of her choice. She had killed him in cold blood, even though she had never stopped loving him in her own, incomprehensible way. Meanwhile, the feeling that had seemed completely normal to her, strengthened by her own experiences and values, turned out to be merely grotesque, gradually dissipating like morning fog.

"Maybe it's that I have to wait for you?" The Sun Summoner suggested, trying to grab his hand. Malyen, however, took it with such a strange expression that she quickly lowered her arm, struggling with her own shame.

"Why are you making this so difficult for me?" he asked her instead, looking less and less like the person she once knew. "You're supposedly giving me space and letting me think this through, but then you come here as if nothing had happened, questioning everything we managed to establish yesterday." Mal's words held such bitterness that the future queen of Ravka could almost taste it on her tongue. "Don't ask me questions you might not want answered, Alya. I don't know what you expect? Lies, or rather, to ease your conscience?" he asked her, saying it as if he were practically slapping her face.

The Sun Summoner could have sworn she almost staggered. It wasn't the strong gust of wind that blew across the harbor today that caused it, but the words of someone she loved so deeply. Maybe she really should give him space, maybe she really was forcing herself on him. There was still a small chance Mal would return to her, after all, because the loss of their bond had shaken him as much as it had shaken her. But something told Alina she was only deluding herself. That the truth wouldn't please her at all, and her heart would only bleed harder for it.

"Lies?" she asked him instead, making last desperate attempt to salvage her honor. "And why not the truth, Mal? Why can't you just be honest with me?" she wanted to know, seeing the Volkvolny's deck becoming increasingly crowded, meaning she didn't have much time left.

He looked at her coldly, but perhaps he felt a little sorry for her. Maybe he saw in her someone who had once possessed a pride that had driven her to assume the role of martyr and savior of an entire country, but now there was no trace of it left, as the great and all-powerful Sun Saint begged for his affection like any jilted lover. As pathetic as it seemed, Alina couldn't help it. She had sacrificed another unwanted love for him, and now her efforts were being trampled on, with no hope for the future.

"You've heard the truth from me, Alya, but you refuse to acknowledge it," Malyen stated, unfolding the spyglass again and nodding at one of his new crew members, who was waving something in the air at him that looked like a mast rope. "Perhaps this will change someday, and we both want it, don't we? But if you don't give me space, I'll start to suffocate. Is this what you want? Coercion, not the knowledge that I truly chose us of my own free will?" he asked her one last time, plunging the last dagger into The Sun Summoner's heart.

I don't feel it anymore, would indeed haunt Alina for the next few months. And hopefully, that would be all, though something told her she might be terribly wrong.

The future queen of Ravka shook herself from her reverie, letting the soft sound of her heels clicking on the stone floor of the dungeons beneath The Grand Palace bring her back to reality. She didn't know why she recalled that particular moment, but perhaps it was because it was the last time she had any illusions about Mal. Yes, she'd missed him afterward, too, and she'd believed he might return to her. That he'd apologize for everything and let her into his heart again. But the future had never confirmed this. If anything, it had only finally buried her illusions, and when Aleksander had returned to the world of the living, the projection of her feelings for Malyen gradually vanished like clouds after a torrential downpour.

The Darkling wanted her to visit him accompanied by guards. The Sun Summoner was, of course, capable of defending herself, and the prisoner brought from Fjerda was not in particularly good physical condition, but she still felt that this wasn't only about The Shadow Summoner’s cousin, who was genuinely hated by the new Tsar of Ravka,but also because her future husband insisted that she comply with security regulations. And if Alina didn't want to have members of the royal council to deal with, she should agree to his request and opt for an oprichniki escort.

So she did. She understood that Aleksander's overprotectiveness stemmed from his concern and knowledge of the realities of the royal courts. Although he himself had already perfected a new system for monitoring those at the court in Os Alta, his absence could tempt bolder individuals seeking ways to undermine him. Nothing mattered more to the new king than his family. She also knew how much her request had cost him. Especially since he'd promised her he wouldn't interfere. He truly trusted her, and that meant a lot to her. She loved the father of her children, but she wanted to say goodbye to her past forever.

The metal bars creaked as one of the guards opened them for his future ruler with a large key. She nodded her thanks, cautiously peering into the cell occupied by only a single prisoner. She wasn't afraid, because she lacked something, but even though she'd thought about it a lot, she still hadn't determined how she would react to all this. Would she spit in Mal's face or hurl every insult she could think of? The Sun Summoner supposed much would depend on how he addressed her. Now she deserved even more respect, but he wouldn't be able to muster it. In his eyes, he had been imprisoned in Fjerda because of her. And the fact that he'd turned traitor meant nothing to him.

Malyen was sitting in the corner of the cell on the bare stone floor, his arms wrapped around his unnaturally protruding knees. His clothes had seen much better days, and there was practically no trace of his former muscularity left. The hair that had grown back during his life as a smuggler had been shaved again, so short it was almost invisible. His head seemed unpleasantly misshapen and oversized, and Alina couldn't help but take a step back, almost failing to recognize him as someone she had once loved.

The sound of the door opening made Mal look in her direction, and then a look of madness flashed in his eyes. Before he realized he had been visited, he was muttering to himself like someone utterly deranged. Alina couldn't help but wonder what had befallen him in a prison that had become world-famous for its treatment of its inmates. Perhaps they practiced psychological terror, or perhaps corporal punishment beyond her imagination of the violence perpetrated against political prisoners. The Sun Summoner, however, didn't care at all. Her former friend deserved everything he received there. Probably even more, for he himself desired her death, even assuring her that he couldn't wait for it.

"Are my eyes deceiving me?" he finally said, barely keeping his shifting gaze on the future queen of Ravka. "It’s Alina Starkov herself. I must admit, I almost didn't recognize you with your hair like that. Was your lover driving you crazy, making you turn completely gray?"

The girl felt an unpleasant feeling creeping under her skin. She'd expected it, but she guessed where Malyen's tricks were supposed to lead. Perhaps he was hoping to provoke her, and thus sign his own death warrant. Aleksander hated it when anyone insulted her, but he also told her he wanted the scoundrel to suffer even more. Once upon a time, the future Queen of Ravka would have dismissed this as simple sadism, but not since she'd lost all illusions about Maylen.

For this reason, when one of the guards moved forward to strike the prisoner for insulting her, she stopped him with a gesture, earning a surprised look from him.

"Thank you, but I can handle myself," she replied, smiling politely at one of the oprichniki. "I know the prisoner personally, and his insults don't faze me in the slightest. However, if you don't want to incur your Tsar's wrath, then please allow me to have this conversation as I wish. Is that understood?" she asked, and Aleksander's personal guard bowed his head, retreating further towards the wall.

Alina glanced again at Mal, whose gaze was roaming her figure in the manner of someone struggling with obsession. He must have heard the mention of the new king of Ravka, and besides, he had surely learned about it during the journey back to Ravka. And that intensified his hatred and reaction to this visit. If he had been hoping for mercy, death, or better treatment, he had gone about it very badly, because his old acquaintance had long since fallen for any of his tricks.

"How imperious," Malyen commented, leaning the back of his practically bald head against the cell wall. "Not only have you turned gray, but you've also let power go to your head. Is it the influence of your new lover, Alya? Where's that independence you once boasted about?" Mal asked her, grinning at her with his missing teeth in a maniacal grin that made him look like one of those circus freaks.

Rumors of violence in Fjerdan prisons were becoming increasingly true. This young soldier had transformed into an old man confined to a corporeal shell ravaged by circumstances. However, he also seemed to have forgotten one very important thing: that he could verbally attack her as much as he wanted, but not her future husband. Aleksander was the Tsar, and insulting the king was punishable by immediate death in Ravka. The witnesses gathered for this confrontation should therefore leave here convinced that this law had never changed. And that Alina respected Aleksander and was able to fight for his honor, even though he himself was not physically present.

So the girl approached Malyen, closely followed by the eyes of all the oprichniki accompanying her. She formed a small ball of light in her hands, focusing all the energy of its rays within it, fueling it with her own anger. Without warning, she placed her palm on her former lover's forehead, sending a wave of unimaginable heat. The boy howled like a wounded animal as her light began to sear his skin. Alina, however, ignored his screams and continued to burn a large, multi-shaped hole in his forehead. Only when the stench of burning flesh reached her nostrils did she withdraw her hand, allowing Mal to fall to the floor, cowering and sobbing.

Her former friend had a large red mark on the upper part of his face, and although there was no visible trace of blood, it was likely because Alina had charred all the outer tissues.

"Be careful how you speak of your king," she warned Malyen, hatred creeping into her voice. "You and I are different stories, but that's the last time you spoke like that to me about Aleksander. To you, he's your ruler and the master of your life and death. You're nothing but a pathetic traitor who shouldn't even open his mouth lest someone accidentally burn his tongue," she said with disgust, secretly glad that she had finally fulfilled her duty as a future queen and decided to visit the political prisoner.

The Sun Summoner needed this confrontation to finally bring closure to this chapter of her life. When she had still believed that Mal had been rotting in the Fjerda prison, she rarely thought about him. But ever since the Darkling had mentioned the exchange, she felt fate had smiled on her one last time. Now she was a mother, and her perspective on the world was even more mature. She wanted Mal to know she'd completely written him off, that he wouldn't get anything from her, even if he tried. Only Aleksander and her family mattered to her. Perhaps it was a bit pathetic of her, but in her eyes, Alina saw this as her last claim to revenge. The Black Tsar had been right, and death would prove a mercy for Malyen. He should torment himself with questions and never know when he would draw his last breath. It would be cruel, indeed, but fair. Because of him, Malyen had almost lost what she had worked so hard to regain, and she would never forgive him.

"If you want to torment me," groaned the Sun Summoner's former lover, writhing on the stone floor. "Then why don't you kill me?" he asked, no longer even struggling for a shred of dignity. "Why did you bring me here? To torture me? What does that give you and your chosen one? Satisfaction? Wouldn't it be even greater if you hadn't actually gotten rid of me?" Mal howled, trying his best to touch his mangled forehead, but his bound hands effectively prevented him from doing so.

As usual, the Darkling was right. Malyen had done everything to provoke her, thus sending her straight to the scaffold. For him, life was over, but he hadn't yet properly atoned for everything he had done to the future queen of Ravka, her lover, and the homeland he so adored. Aleksander would never stop loving his country more than anything else. For him, betrayal was unforgivable and final, but in his cousin's case, it was also personal. Alina realized that she no longer felt anything but utter loathing for him. How could she have ever lost her head over such worthless trash, who was just that, despite the aura created by the amplifier's influence?

The Sun Summoner had intended to tell Mal about her motherhood. And that these were Aleksander's children. But she decided to leave that pleasure to her fiancé. He deserved it not only as the Tsar, but also as someone who had once been wrongly rejected in favor of such a nonentity as her former friend. She herself had truly come here only to ensure that her hatred never diminished, but rather intensified. To fulfill her duty to the royal council, and to make Malyen realize that he couldn't count on her help and that he wouldn't find the quick death he so desperately hoped for.

"It was never about satisfaction, Mal," she replied to her former lover, looking down at him with a lack of empathy or sympathy. "And I assure you, when your king comes to visit, he'll tell you exactly what I said. Farewell." The girl gave him one last dismissive look. "You've finally returned home, so enjoy your stay." With that, Alina nodded to the oprichiniki, allowing them to lead them out of the cell.

***

The mounted men hid in the thick forest, gradually filling a small glade created by a clearing in the spruce forest typical of the foothills of the Sikurzoi Mountains. Traveling this way in the middle of the night proved practically impossible, and it was this assumption that formed the basis of the plan devised by the handsome, tall man dressed in black from head to toe, who was in charge of the entire operation. The small detachment stopped at the location indicated in the note found in the manor of one of the kingdom's traitors, and the riders dismounted, careful not to make too much noise. The leader of the group patted his black stallion on its well-fed withers, leading it to one of the nearby trees, to which he had expertly tied it. The steed whinnied softly, obedient as always to its master. The man allowed it maximum freedom of movement, so that his beloved animal could browse even in the dark. The other horsemen did the same. The unit numbered only ten armed men, six of whom were Grisha and only four were otkazats'ya.

"Moi Soverenyi," one of his men, clad in a red kefta with general's insignia, said to his commander. "We are ready. On your signal, we can run out onto the path at any time you choose."

The man with dark hair and eyes as black as a starless night nodded. He tore off his traveling cloak so that it wouldn't restrict his movements in the event of an armed confrontation. He could easily use his shadows, but he didn't always do so. Sometimes he saved this skill for the very end as an element of surprise. In simple skirmishes, his sword, which he wielded with great skill, was sufficient. He was one of the finest swordsmen in all of Ravka, and few brave souls could defeat him in hand-to-hand combat.

"Fedyor, listen for any sounds on the path. When something catches your attention, immediately attack. Kill all but one or two of them. I still need to interrogate one of them, as we need to determine exactly who was collaborating with Vasilsky," the man in black, who turned out to be none other than the new Tsar of Ravka, instructed his general.

Aleksander Morozova, who led the armed detachment, had no need to participate in such an action. The Lantsovs had never done, but he was always meant to be primarily a soldier at heart. Besides, the Darkling liked to keep his finger on the pulse, and unlike ordinary mortals, killing him would be a near-miracle. He felt responsible for the proper execution of the attack plan he had devised. His presence at the ambush site also saved him considerable time. His soldiers didn't question this, still remembering how the leader of The Second Army had traveled from one outpost to another, always staying close to them, especially when something had been happening. The otkazats'ya would learn this in time. Their new ruler had begun a new era in Ravka's history, and many of the old, broken traditions would soon be forgotten.

"Of course, moi Tsar," Fedyor replied, bowing respectfully before him. "According to your assumptions, these men will reach the site on foot, as horseback travel through such a narrow forest pass is practically impossible. And certainly not at night. Moreover, as you said, moi Soverenyi, there is no other access route here, unless Vasilsky's associates push straight through the forest, but since they don't expect an ambush, I don't think it will happen. Too much risk and too much wasted time. They've done this many times before. It will be a quick action, moi Tsar. Your plan is simply perfect," his Heartrender admitted, to which Aleksander nodded.

"Listen for the sound of twigs snapping or cautious advance. As soon as you're sure someone's coming, capture them all, and then we'll decide whose life we'll spare. The risk of it being someone innocent is almost zero. No one in their right mind would be walking through the forest in the middle of the night, especially since this clearing is so poorly accessible from all sides," noted the Darkling, who had planned to capture Vasilsky's associates during their planned meeting, as outlined in the note found in his manor.

The Shadow Summoner wanted to follow the thread to the ball, meaning the client from Shu Han. He felt he couldn't miss such an opportunity, and it was precisely for this reason that he wanted to personally oversee everything.

Suddenly, completely without warning, somewhere nearby in the forest thicket, the sound of twigs snapping underfoot could be heard. Alekaander quickly exchanged glances with Fedyor, placing his index finger to his lips and receiving a fast nod from his Corporalki. Someone was approaching the path not far from the clearing, and it was definitely not a single lone traveler. The frequency of the crackling sounds suggested at least five travelers, which matched what The Black Tsar had been able to determine.

His General hurriedly ran to the Grisha waiting by the horses, trying not to make too much noise. The Darkling made sure his sword was at the ready at his side, reserving his shadows for later, once he was certain it was indeed the traitorous duke's accomplices who had arrived at the forest clearing in the middle of the spruce forest.

Aleksander waved his hand, and his men broke into a run toward the sound of footsteps. Soon, shouts of surprise erupted, but they faded as quickly as they had come. The Shadow Summoner stepped with the grace of a hunting wolf onto the narrow path just as his squad members were already forming a tight circle around the captured men, who were kneeling on the forest floor with their hands behind their backs. Their weapons had been knocked from their hands, and two of the unfortunates were dead, lying a little further away in a pool of blood. Only three of the detainees remained, and their facial features clearly indicated their origins. They were citizens of Shu Han, dressed in clothing that aroused no suspicion, and their hooded cloaks were meant to conceal their faces from prying eyes. Their surprise and terror were also unmistakable. Aleksander nodded to Fedyor, who finally ordered the Grisha and otkazats'ya accompanying him to light portable lanterns, the glow of which illuminated the forest path and drew the attention of the terrified prisoners towards him, whom they must have recognized.

"Is that all of them?" the Darkling asked as he approached his General.

He nodded, gesturing to the bodies of the two slain, which sprawled across the forest floor like two shapeless masses against a red background.

"Except for these two unfortunates, yes, moi Tsar," his Corporalki assured him, having no doubt that their ambush had been successful.

"And no one escaped?" Aleksander reassured himself one last time, narrowing his eyes at one of the detainees, whose face had turned ashen, as if he were about to dump the contents of his stomach onto the ground between his knees.

"No, moi Soverenyi," his Heartrender replied once more. "I have no doubt about that."

The Darkling nodded slightly, marching majestically toward the prisoners, their knees sinking into a thick layer of moss. His men parted respectfully before him, giving him free passage. One of Vasilsky's accomplices didn't fit in with the other two. Something about him suggested he was an ordinary civilian with no military training whatsoever. And it was he who became the object of The Shadow Summoner's attention.

"You," Aleksander said to him, crouching before him and, without warning, reaching out to tug at his hair, yanking his head back.

The man groaned, perhaps trying to plead for mercy, but his air was cut off, so his words sounded more like the babbling of someone who had overdosed on hard liquor.

"I know who you are and what you're doing here." The Black Tsar's tone was as cold as ice, leaving no doubt as to his intentions towards the captured Shu Han citizen. "Sadly, your friend Duke Vasilsky couldn't come to this charming gathering, as the unfortunate man is currently hanging from the gallows, and the ravens and crows have probably already pecked out his eyes, and maybe even eaten his intestines. That means I'll have to make do, for which I apologize. But perhaps you could have a friendly chat with me too, hmm? Tell me, you punk, who you work for, or before you know it, I'll break your neck," the Darkling warned him, his tone as nonchalant as if he were discussing such mundane matters as the weather.

The prisoner began to babble even louder. A look of madness appeared in his eyes, so The Shadow Summoner loosened his grip slightly, allowing him to speak freely. As soon as he did, the unfortunate man began to unleash a torrent of words. It turned out that Aleksander had been right again. The young man had no military training, confirming the theory that they were dealing with an ordinary civilian.

"My name is Ching Pho," sobbed the prisoner, who, if his hands weren't tied behind his back, would surely be clasping them before him in a pleading gesture. "I'm a scientist! Don't kill me, I know nothing!"

The Shadow Summoner narrowed his eyes at him even more than before.

A scientist, and one working with Vasilsky, at that. Could he be somehow connected to the secret laboratories Brekker had mentioned?

"So you're a scientist, Mr. Pho," The Black Tsar wondered aloud, seeing the prisoner eagerly agreeing. "So what are you doing so far from your homeland? And what good is a military escort if you're practicing this seemingly innocent craft?" The Darkling cocked his head slightly to the side again, raising his left eyebrow at the man he was questioning in a theatrical gesture.

"I have nothing to do with any of this, Your Highness!" the Shu Han scholar assured Aleksander. "I was hired to work on jurda parem, and my employer paid me to report to Duke Vasilsky on my progress!" Pho practically wept, looking incredibly pathetic. "I don't know anything about politics, I'm just doing my job!" he insisted in a voice so shrill that it grated on The Shadow Summoner's ears.

Well, well, well. It turned out that the traitor of Ravka who was responsible for the murders had also become involved in smuggling the antidote into the neighboring kingdom. Perhaps this was the intention from the beginning. Killing otkazats’ya disguised as Grisha was merely a smokescreen for the aristocrat's true activities. It was possible that the Shu Han already knew how to neutralize the antidote created by Kuwei Yul-Bo and David Kostyk. And now this should become the Darkling's focus.

"Interesting," Aleksander said to the prisoner, suddenly realizing that this man could still be of great use to him. "And I take it your work has yielded some results, since you traveled all the way through the mountains to meet Vasilsky in the middle of the night in this remote area?"

Pho nodded vigorously, doing literally everything he could to save his life.

"Yes, Your Highness! Take me with you, and I'll show you everything!" he pleaded, moving forward on his knees across the moss. "I can neutralize the antidote, but only for a short time! However, it's possible to make the drug work again for several hours! This is enough to temporarily modify the Grisha's powers, making them a deadly short-acting weapon, but sometimes it's enough to inflict significant damage on the enemy! Our Empress hopes this will give us an advantage over our opponents! Even greater than if we were to send only khergud at them!" Pho whimpered like a child who had suddenly lost both parents.

Aleksander narrowed his eyes at this revelation. A few hours of suspending the antidote's healing effects could have wreaked havoc on his army if Makhi Kir-Taban had launched all her forces at once. The antidote ensured that the Grisha experienced contact with the jurda, preventing their powers from transforming into something uncontrollable. Yet now, this inconspicuous scholar from Shu Han claimed he could neutralize the antidote's healing effects for a few hours. This discovery raised the hairs on the back of the Darkling's neck. David had to learn this as soon as possible, for he and Kuwei were the only ones who knew what to do with this revelation. The antidote's effects had to be enhanced so that its neutralizing properties couldn't be halted even for a moment. Perhaps the prisoner they had now captured held the key to solving this mystery. The Black Tsar would take him with him to Os Alta, where his knowledge would be tested, and if he lied, he would face a certain death.

There was one more question left to ask him. Although The Shadow Summoner suspected he already knew the answer, he decided to ask it anyway, to be absolutely sure about it.

"Who hired you for this research, Mr. Pho?" he said, reaching his hand toward the man's face again to tilt his head back.

The man groaned again, practically choking with fear.

"Minister Yerwei," he stammered as the Darkling slightly loosened his grip to allow him to speak freely.

Aleksander narrowed his eyes at this revelation, but it didn't surprise him in the slightest. It turned out he was right in this case as well, and the idea of ​​transporting the scientist from Shu Han to the capital of Ravka seemed even more plausible to him than it had a moment ago.

"Excellent," he replied, suddenly releasing the scholar's hair, who now shrieked shrilly. "Since you enjoy scholarly pursuits so much, Mr. Pho, you will have the opportunity to show off your talent." With that, The Shadow Summoner rose from his crouch, straightening gracefully, like a beautiful but highly dangerous being that could not be tamed. "We are taking him with us, General." Aleksander turned to Fedyor, who was waiting for the interrogation to end. "Mr. Pho will go with me to Os Alta, where we will see the value of the information he has just given me. David Kostyk and Kuwei Yul-Bo will verify it very quickly," he said, satisfied with the results of this nighttime ambush

His Heartrender bowed respectfully before him, then straightened again.

"And the other captives, moi Soverenyi?" Fedyor wanted to know, awaiting his ruler's next instructions.

Aleksander's gaze turned as cold as ice once more, as the mere thought of more traitors working against his homeland filled him not only with rage but also with disgust.

"Kill them," he ordered, absently narrowing his eyes to thin slits. "All of them."

***

Never in his painfully long life had The Darkling been so eager to return to Os Alta. His black carriage pulled into the courtyard in front of the Palace just before the customary closing of the gates for the night. The sun was already sinking below the horizon, its last rays tinting the sky orange, and the clarity of the air suggested the arrival of another beautiful day, complete with perfect spring weather.

It was early May, and daily temperatures had risen significantly, and the growing season had begun in earnest, signaling a good year for the peasants cultivating grains and other useful plants. After a long period of famine, Ravka was finally blooming again, though the looming war could disrupt everything. Aleksander, however, knew that stockpiling any supplies could help survive the natural disaster, so he sent his Alkemi into the fields to help fertilize the soil where it was still needed. The best land for cultivation was in the west, but it was the east that proved to be the most densely populated, and consequently, this part of the kingdom required the most care from the new ruler.

The Darkling's return was not expected two days earlier than it was previously said. However, he had managed to gain an even better understanding of matters in the south than he had previously planned. Excessive delay was also very dangerous under these circumstances, as the enemy was becoming increasingly bold and brazen, suggesting that matters would soon accelerate to such an extent that there would be no turning back, and the war would transform from a grim vision into a terrifying reality.

Alina was also unaware of his early return home. Aside from these two meetings in the tether, they had no further contact. Aleksander had indeed shown her the trust his precious girl had so earnestly begged him for. He was also pleased that he would surprise her, and her charming surprise would gladden his old heart. Or at least that was his hope, because his pathetic cousin could ruin everything, as always, driving his solnishka to the brink of mental exhaustion.

The carriage stopped near the palace's main entrance, in a wide courtyard lined with carefully trimmed shrubs. The driver whistled for the horses, and the coach wheels came to a halt, suggesting that the new Tsar Ravka's journey had come to an end. Before Aleksander could even fully settle on the gravel surface, the lights outside the large double doors flickered on, and several servants hurried out, rushing toward him to assist their ruler to his private chambers. However, he now longed for nothing more than to see his family, and he intended to limit these interactions to an absolute minimum, especially since he would have to face his workload again tomorrow.

Just behind the servants, the chairman of the royal council, Horoshko, also emerged from within the Palace. He barely concealed his surprise at the sight of his ruler, who was expected to return to the capital in two days at the earliest. The Darkling at least had the opportunity to verify the functioning of the palace complex in his absence. This was the first such occasion since he became king, and while he didn't introduce any major changes in this regard, he certainly demanded a greater commitment to the proper performance of his duties than any of the Lantsovs.

"Moi Tsar," Horoshko greeted him at the foot of the stairs. "I'm so glad to see you in good health. If you wish to discuss the details of your journey south with me, I remain at your disposal, even now." The man bowed to the Darkling, pretending that the late hour didn't bother him, and that if the Shadow Summoner desired it, he would gladly report to him on the Palace's operations at any time he chose.

Aleksander ignored this comment for now, more interested in seeing his family. He was concerned about how Alina had handled the confrontation with Mal and the damage it had done to her. The council chairman could report to him as early as tomorrow. He had managed to expedite his return to Os Alta, thus gaining some extra time, which always proved to be a real luxury for him.

"Is your Lady at home?" he asked Horoshko instead, who carefully moved out of his way and followed him into the Palace interior, already swarming with servants greeting their ruler with low bows.

"Yes, moi Tsar," the chairman of the royal council replied, ordering one of the footmen to bring a late dinner to Aleksander's chamber. "The Queen has never attended communal suppers. A few hours ago, I gave her a lesson in politics, as you arranged, Your Majesty. And since then, My Lady has remained confined to her chamber, preoccupied with the Tsarevitches or other activities that occupy her free time when there are no arrangements for her to accept," he assured the Darkling, stopping beside him in the spacious hall.

Aleksander looked at him through slightly narrowed eyes. He hoped Alina was being paid the proper respect in his absence, and that no one in the Palace had been foolish enough to incur his wrath.

"I hope I won't hear any unfavorable news from your Queen, General Horoshko," The Black Tsar stated, but it really sounded like a warning.

Horoshko bowed humbly before him, feigning confidence.

"Of course not, moi Tsar," he assured him, straightening before him again.

The Darkling eyed him carefully, then took a few steps forward, stopping just in front of the chairman of the royal council.

"Tomorrow morning after breakfast, I want to see Igor Krepko and David Kostyk in my office. Only after I've spoken with them will I meet with you, General. I've brought with me a prisoner from Caryeva, whom I'll have placed in one of our cells for now. If my suspicions are confirmed, I will personally arrange for some special measures for his treatment. That's all from me for now. I expect you to only bother me in very important matters," added Aleksander, who was always ready to look after Ravka's interests, but tonight he would consider any trivial matters to be an abuse.

"Of course, moi Tsar," Horoshko agreed. "I wish you a pleasant evening, Your Highness. In a few minutes, the servants will bring you dinner."

The Darkling acknowledged this with a curt nod, then set off down the long corridor toward his private quarters. Emotions grew stronger within him the closer he got to his destination. Now, returning home took on a whole new meaning for him than before, and that aching tightness in his chest testified that the longing filling him had a completely different origin than all those centuries, when he had been accompanied only by loneliness.

The guards stepped aside at the threshold, bowing respectfully. Aleksander entered a pleasant twilight that smelled of the familiar closeness of those who mattered most to him, as well as the warmth of a home. The thud of his footsteps echoed off the walls as he walked straight to his bedroom. The moment he stepped through the wide-open door, all the tension seemed to vanish, leaving behind only a peace he hadn't realized he'd missed so much. Alina was sitting on their bed, dressed only in a simple white dress with gold stitching. It was cinched at the waist with a thin gold sash and made entirely of lace and tulle. Right next to her were Velmora and Veralun, dressed in identical gold and white caftans. It was this sight that so shocked The Shadow Summoner, as for the first time he had the pleasure of seeing his twins, who had mastered the new skill of sitting upright in his absence.

His precious girl's face radiated a quiet happiness that immediately calmed the Darkling. Perhaps Malyen hadn't managed to disturb her calm, which was what he feared most. And then her gaze landed on him. Surprise and indescribable joy immediately flashed across her black irises, and she likely would have jumped from the bed if she hadn't had to protect the children sitting right next to her.

"Sasha!" she exclaimed as he practically ran to her, kissing her on the lips with all his might. Then he kissed both of his children's foreheads as well, and a few moments later, he sat down beside them on the bed, embracing his future wife so tightly that it seemed as if ten days had not passed, but an eternity. "What are you doing here?" His Sun Summoner was beside herself with joy, pressing her face against his royal uniform.

"Surprise, milaya," he replied, burying his nose in her white curls and inhaling their floral scent. "My extended stay in Caryeva no longer made much sense. So I decided it was time to return to you and our summoners. I've missed all three of you more than I can describe." Aleksander wouldn't trade the peace he felt for anything.

Here were his home, his heart, and his soul. And this brief separation only made him realize that even more.

Alina lifted her head from his chest, still wrapping her arms around him.

"Did you manage to sort everything out?" she asked, concern radiating from her gaze, but something in his expression made her quickly relax.

"Yes," he replied, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "It turns out Shu Han did indeed manage to neutralize the antidote to jurda parem, milaya."

His precious girl stiffened again.

"How so?" she asked, remembering perfectly well how deadly that filth had proven.

Aleksander, however, remained quite calm. He believed that since he had come this far, and since the solution was impermanent, his men would find a way to deal with it, especially since he had brought them one of the scientists who knew almost everything about it, or at least that's what the detainee himself claimed.

"I've captured someone who might be useful in this very matter. He's one of the scientists who collaborated with the traitor I lost in Caryeva, and I'll put him at David and Kuwei's disposal. I know they'll both do their best to find a way out of this, and that's why I need to provide them with the means to act for now, because I no longer doubt that Makhi got her hands on our antidote," the Darkling explained to his precious girl, not wanting to alarm her too much.

"So…" she began, but he merely placed his hand on her cheek.

"So we have very little time left, milaya," he told her honestly, but his voice held the calm he intended to imbue her with. "But when that moment comes, we'll be ready. At least we know what we're up against, and that's a lot, because I already have a firm idea of ​​what strategy I should develop."

His Sun Summoner looked at their twins, chattering happily, lost in thought.

"It's all on you, Sasha..." she said to herself quietly, as if recalling something that had recently happened.

Aleksander guessed what was troubling her, and putting it off would be pointless anyway. Especially since he was literally mentally wrestling with it himself, because he hated the scoundrel who was his unfortunate cousin so much that something inside him twisted with disgust for him.

"Unfortunately, not just mine," he told his precious girl, extending his left hand toward his twins, who clenched their tiny fists around his long, slender fingers. "I hope I won't have to kill Mal for what he did or said to you, because then our revenge would lose all its flavor." Here, The Shadow Summoner's gaze rested fully on his solnishka's face again, searching for any signs of confirmation. "But if you say so much as a word, I will personally cut off his head. I will not hesitate for a moment. Scum lives only to suffer. But for me, milaya, your honor will always be paramount," he replied, gazing into her eyes so intensely that he left her with no doubt as to what values ​​he truly upheld.

"I love you, Sasha," Alina replied, leaning forward a little to brush her lips against his. "But you have no reason to worry. I handled him better than I thought. And I know you're itching to see him too, but please, stay with us all night. I dream of nothing more than finally falling asleep snuggled up against you," his solnishka pleaded, her large, dark eyes revealing nothing but the truth.

Surprisingly, The Black Tsar had planned tonight's evening exactly the same. His Sun Summoner wasn't used to this, as he usually worked even at night, a situation that hadn't changed at all even after he was officially crowned ruler of Ravka. Her fears were therefore well-founded, but not tonight. Soon, their separation would unfortunately become even longer, and then, despite the possibility of using the tether, the lack of physical closeness would hit them even harder.

"Alya…" Aleksander began, but then there was a knock on the door.

Horoshko knew perfectly well that the Darkling had nothing on his agenda today but spending time with his family, so a deep frown immediately formed on his forehead. But then Alina guessed what he meant, even faster than he himself.

"Isn't this dinner for you?" she asked, though she hadn't been in the hall when The Black Tsar entered the palace. "I bet the servants saw you and brought you a warm meal after such a long journey. Am I right?" she asked him, reluctantly releasing herself from his embrace to get up from the bed. "Could you put our little ones back in their beds? They're already sleeping separately in their room, because as you can see, they've started sitting up on their own, and I'd be afraid they'd fall out of the cradle," his precious girl asked, smiling sweetly at him.

Aleksander felt a pang of emotion now filling his chest. Their little ones were growing up so quickly, and before they knew it, they'd be crawling. And though he thought about it with joy, an indescribable melancholy gripped him again. When he left for the front, he'd miss so many new stages of their development, and no one would ever give him that time back.

"Of course, milaya," he replied, lifting both twins from the bed and kissing their foreheads again.

Mora seemed to find it amusing to try to slip her finger into his mouth, and Veralun tugged at the collar of his imperial uniform with a force unheard of for a six-month-old infant.

The Black Tsar carried his children to their room, gently placing them in their high beds. He handed each of them a rag toy, making sure the little ones wouldn't cry when he was out of sight. They began to babble, kicking their short legs joyfully. Aleksander had once spent much time pondering what love was and why the otkazats'ya did so many crazy things to gain it. Now, however, he saw it before his eyes in its physical form. And once he had tasted it, he was never going to let it go.

When Aleksander returned to the bedroom, Alina was already waiting for him. In one hand, she was holding a large plate of roast turkey, braised cabbage, and mashed potatoes sprinkled with dill. In the other, she had a bowl of broth, which was still hot, so the dish was placed on a trivet to prevent burning her.

"Go freshen up, Sasha," she suggested, putting his late dinner on the table next to a plate of chocolate cake and a pot of tea. Then she approached him, helping him pull his uniform off his shoulders and expertly unbuttoning the shirt underneath. "I'll change too in the meantime and join you for the meal."

Aleksander kissed her forehead and then headed towards the bathroom. A fresh change of underwear awaited him there, along with several thick bath towels to wrap himself in once he emerged from the bath. The tub was filled with warm water, topped with woody-scented bath salts. He submerged himself up to his neck, then closed his eyes for a moment, losing track of time.

When he opened his eyes again, the water had cooled slightly. He quickly dried himself off, pulling on clean underwear, then slipped his arms into the sleeves of his black silk robe and moved toward Alina.

She was standing over his food, warming it with her concentrated light. She was already dressed only in a thin nightgown and a gold satin robe that hung loosely on her slender shoulders. She smiled at him, waiting for Aleksander to take a seat at the table. Only then did she withdraw her hands, allowing him to satisfy the hunger he so often forgot about when something consumed his thoughts or when matters of state made him forget the world.

"Enjoy your meal, my love," his solnishka replied, sitting across from him. "I bet that even if you eat all of this, you'll still find room for a piece of cake." A mischievous mischief appeared in his precious girl's eyes, for she herself knew his weakness for sweets well.

"If I bet you that, I'll surely lose," Aleksander commented just before he began to satiate his hunger. "And competition is only worthwhile when it's evenly matched," he added, to which his Sun Summoner gave him a broad smile.

A few minutes later, The Black Tsar was sitting on their shared bed in nothing but his underwear, and Alina was massaging his shoulders. He hadn't even realized how much he needed it. After a while, his eyelids began to droop again, and his solnishka noticed it. She leaned over him and kissed his temple, sliding her hands from his shoulders to hug him tightly.

"Let's go to sleep, Sasha," she encouraged him, gently pulling him toward the bed. "I promise I'll hold you until you fall asleep."

The Black Tsar didn't even protest. As he rested his cheek on Alina's chest, exhaustion finally won the battle against his willpower. This time, however, he himself could precisely describe the reason. He finally felt at home, and perhaps for the first time in his centuries-long existence, he understood the meaning of those words differently than before.

***

The delegation from Fjerda was scheduled to collect its prisoners in less than an hour. Aleksander was giving his soldiers their final orders, hoping that once the last of the peace treaty's terms had been fulfilled, his troops would finally be able to return to Os Kervo in their entirety. Lantsov Puppy didn't interfere with his arrangements, as he not only lacked the necessary experience in the matter but also had no say in the matter, having struggled to regain his weakened health and had barely engaged in the recently concluded armed conflict with their northern neighbors, who had already returned home, leaving only a single ship in port for political prisoners.

Aleksander was watching as the tents gradually emptied, and the camp slowly turned into a mere memory of the horrors that had unfolded there. He passed the bowing Grisha, heading in one very specific direction: to speak one last time with the prisoner who would pay dearly for his betrayal. But for the Darkling, it also proved personal. That's why he couldn't resist the pleasure of gazing one last time into the eyes of his cousin, who had sullied his bloodline by being related to him.

The Black General entered the tent guarded by his oprichniki. There, tied to a stake, sat none other than Mal, staring at the ground between his knees, hidden behind a curtain of his long fringe.

Aleksander paused for a moment to suppress his revulsion. Then he moved forward, letting the sound of his footsteps carry loudly enough to announce his arrival.

His cousin stopped staring at the sandy ground between his feet and glanced up, recognizing the presence of a new guest in the tent. As soon as his gaze fell on the Darkling, his lips twisted in disgust. This scum had lost, yet he still believed he had a say in the matter. The Shadow Summoner knew he was deeply afraid of him, yet he would never show it. Perhaps he was hoping for one last chance to humiliate him and make him realize that sending him back to Fjerda would bring Aleksander no benefit. Perhaps he believed that no one would listen to him at all, that he himself would receive the gift of grace, and instead of enduring torment in the far north, he could count on ending his life in Ravka.

But if that was his delusion, he didn't know his cousin at all. The Black General didn't mess around with prisoners, especially if they had betrayed his homeland.

"Cousin," Mal greeted his relative, smiling disgustingly at him. "What did a mere mortal like me do to deserve a visit from someone like you? Do you already miss me and regret a mistaken decision?" he inquired, feeling he had almost nothing left to lose, preferring death to the fate that awaited him in the far north.

Aleksander leaned back against one of the pillars supporting the tent roof. He crossed his arms over his chest, his disgust-filled gaze sliding along his cousin's figure.

"I don't make bad decisions, Malyen Oretsev," he told him, finally meeting his eyes, which held nothing but disgust. "I came to say goodbye to you once and for all. You could have had everything, and now you have nothing. How does it feel?" the Darkling asked, cocking his head to the side with apparent curiosity to better observe his interlocutor.

But Mal didn't seem offended, but rather satisfied. Even now, in a hopeless situation, he believed they could have faced each other as equals, a fact that would likely never cease to fascinate Aleksander, who had never encountered an otkazats’ya with such a meager instinct for self-preservation as he did.

"Exactly, cousin, how does it feel?" he asked, allowing his lower lip to curl into the disgusting smile of the madman that he was. "How does it feel to get rid of your competition in such a pitiful way, because otherwise you'd always be afraid Alina would never fully give you her heart when she felt I'd always be there, occupying her thoughts, spreading her legs for you like the cheap mistress she is?" Malyen also feigned curiosity about the reason for his sending to Fjerda, wanting to create as much confusion in his competitor's mind and heart as possible.

This scum had insulted his Sun Summoner by trading her body. Aleksander felt a surge of rage so immense it nearly blinded him, causing shadows to creep out from every corner of the tent, gathering around him like a storm cloud.

Perhaps he should have killed this pathetic worm, as he was destined to do. But that would have been an act of mercy, one that The Black General couldn't muster in this case. But no one was saying Malyen should have gone to Fjerda in one piece. He didn't need both upper limbs to rot in a cell in the north. Aleksander would gladly remove one of his arms, or maybe even both. Creatures like his cousin had no right to even demand mercy. They should at most be grateful that no one tortured them daily until the day they died.

"Do you know how to tell a stupid dog from a wise one, Malyen Oretsev?" The Black General asked his relative instead, wanting his words to be firmly embedded in the carrion's memory. "That wise dogs don't bark without reason, while stupid dogs bark inordinately. You're probably wondering which one you are?" The Shadow Summoner cocked his head slightly to the side, barely resisting the disgust the sight of someone as pathetic as his cousin evoked in him.

But Mal simply dismissed the question with a maniacal grin. There was no doubt he was insane, and each subsequent interaction with him only reinforced that for the Darkling.

"She will never be fully yours, Aleksander," The Tracker said after a moment, feeling that if he intended to hurt his enemy, he should strike a chord. "Never. She may profess her love for you, but she will never stop thinking about me. You think she hates me, and you're probably right. But I will haunt her dreams, bringing her nightmares of what could have been, of what she has lost forever. Of what you never had a place in, and of what you so feebly replaced."

These words still echoed in The Black Tsar's mind as he was walking through the underground corridor between the cells beneath The Grand Palace before dawn. It was perhaps four in the morning when the new ruler of Ravka had arisen from his bed, discovering that Alina, who had been embracing him, had been lying on her side, breathing slowly, completely asleep. Aleksander had learned to interpret his nightmares as unresolved issues or signals that he needed to take urgent action. Some held lessons, while others merely reminded him of the things that defined him. The past made him who he once was, and who he would remain for the rest of eternity.

The Darkling needed to speak with his cousin, or he would occupy his thoughts when they should be dwelling on more pressing matters. And that was why The Black Tsar had gone to speak with his relative, to feel a modicum of satisfaction in the revenge that was about to be fulfilled.

Aleksander had planned to first place him opposite Zoya, so the two could freely hate each other until he beheaded The Squaller. It was funny how different their endings were, even though their transgressions against Ravka were of similar gravity. Malyen, however, deserved special treatment. After all, the same blood flowed in their veins, and for once, The Shadow Summoner was glad to be able to use it.

The guards opened the door to his relative's cell for their king, and as soon as he stepped inside, he was immediately struck by how much this pathetic wretch had changed over the past year. The Darkling's cousin had grown thinner and seemed to have lost all his considerable muscle mass, and his hair had been shaved so short that, were it not for its natural dark shade, it might have been bare skin. But another discovery proved even more interesting. Now that Mal no longer had his long fringe, his forehead was clearly visible, bearing a nearly unhealed scar from a burn that must have occurred while he was locked away in the dungeons of Os Alta.

Aleksander couldn't help but chuckle inwardly at this. He already had his suspicions as to who was responsible, and apparently his pathetic cousin deserved the honor, as the future queen of Ravka was not so easily provoked.

"I see your travels suit you, cousin," The Black Tsar remarked as he stood opposite Malyen, looking down at him. The boy finally lifted his gaze, displaying his ashen complexion and emaciated cheeks. "And as it turns out, you even brought back a souvenir." The Shadow Summoner admired the large scar between Mal's eyes, secretly growing amused at the sight. "It's news to me that the Fjerdans mark their prisoners like cattle for trade. But perhaps that's a good thing, for they've clearly recognized your worth."

The former Tracker held his tongue for now and stubbornly remained silent. Where was that swaggering pup who'd been yapping about his worth even after he'd almost been shipped out of Ravka?

Aleksander knew he didn't have to do anything to provoke him. The hatred between them remained strong, even if the Black Tsar's relative was a mere shadow of his former self, and even without the Shadow Summoner's help, he might only have a few years left to live. The boy was clearly suffering from scurvy and extreme exhaustion. The Darkling considered prolonging his suffering as long as possible. Perhaps he would even send one of his Healers to his cell from time to time. But it all depended on whether he had the patience to endure the knowledge that such a pathetic worm cursed his family in his thoughts.

The memory of his loved ones quickly reminded the new ruler of Ravka. He had come here for several reasons, as he truly had no intention of enduring his relative's presence unless he absolutely had to. But he seemed to need to close a chapter and repay him for what he had once said. Many would call this childish behavior, but Aleksander had never truly been a child. Even as a two-year-old, he had seen more than many otkazats'ya had in their entire lives. But his rage towards Mal never wavered. It wasn't just a personal grudge, after all, but a betrayal of everything The Shadow Summoner had ever fought for. And that was why he would watch his slow decline, not even thinking about shortening it.

"It was your future wife who did this to me," Mal finally said, wincing as the skin on his forehead stretched painfully under his grimace. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I must admit, you've trained her well. She defends you like a lioness, but like all your followers, she'll come to a miserable end one day." Genuine hatred burned in Aleksander's relative's eyes. "But that's no longer my concern. As they say? You make your bed, you lie in it."

The Black Tsar felt his hands begin to clench into fists, dangling at his sides. But then he remembered that this was exactly what the scoundrel wanted. That he did everything to provoke him and thus free himself from the miserable fate he had brought upon himself.

"You certainly get a good night's sleep, don't you, cousin?" The Shadow Summoner asked his relative instead, wanting him to understand that he had no intention of shortening his suffering, as it would continue until the Darkling finally decided he'd grown tired of it. "And that pleases me immensely, for these luxuries will be yours for a very long time to come."

Maylen looked at him with a mixture of fear and disgust. His plan was slowly crumbling, and the vision of a monotonous future filled with suffering and loneliness was transforming from a bleak thought into a terrifying reality. In Fjerda, he himself might live another year, two at most. Here, however, The Black General had decided to poke fun at him, and it didn't look like he'd ever change his mind on the matter.

"Why did you bring me here?" Mal finally asked him, seemingly unable to bear it any longer.

Aleksander was studying the scar on his forehead, growing increasingly proud of Alina. He could ask her what had provoked her, but perhaps she would tell him herself at some convenient time for both of them. The most important thing was that his solnishka had rejected her former lover even after time might have erased some of his sins, and that filled The Shadow Summoner with peace and satisfaction that by trusting her, he had made a good choice not only for himself but also for her, for his precious girl was counting on this matter being resolved once and for all.

The Darkling didn't really have much to add regarding Malyen's future beyond what had already been said. But he wanted to share some good news, one that could deal him the final blow he so richly deserved.

"You've returned to where you came from, cousin," Aleksander replied, then pretended to examine his fingernails.

It didn't escape his relative's notice that The Shadow Summoner had regained his arm. His eyes grew as wide as saucers, giving him an even more caricatured appearance, considering how gaunt his face appeared.

"I came back here so you could torment me," his relative countered once he regained his composure. "That's all you know how to do. Torment those who, for some reason, have offended you."

Aleksander sighed, feeling he would drive Malyen mad. Then he simply stated, "You're lucky, cousin, I won't give you that satisfaction, because addressing a ruler like that would make you a head shorter. Unfortunately. I can be patient, for patience is what builds character. And with small children, that quality is even more useful."

Mal looked at him, a little uncertain, a little mocking. The Darkling had mentioned it on purpose, because he wanted to hear the question come out of the pathetic pup's mouth before he blissfully confirmed it himself, proving to him that his predictions about Alina never fully giving herself to him had turned out to be as much nonsense as everything about him.

"Children…" his relative hissed under his breath, never having stopped hating the Grisha, and the thought of future generations walking this earth filled him with disgust. "And what do you know about them?"

The Black Tsar's lips curled into a lazy smile. This was what he had been waiting for, and now he could bask in his satisfaction.

"Still not much, actually, but I learn every day," he remarked, making sure Malyen looked him straight in the eye. "I assure you, however, that my six-month-old twins have everything they need to develop properly. And that both I and Alina would give them a star in the sky if they so desired," he emphasized, his tone becoming possessive and utterly devoid of any mercy.

Aleksander's relative flushed. He didn't love his Sun Summoner and despised her utterly, but it still pained him that his rival had received something he himself had never been able to achieve. And that thorn would remain with him for the rest of his life. And The Black General would remind himself of it whenever memories of how much his pathetic cousin had wronged his future wife assailed him.

"More anomalies will plague this world," Mal declared, the Darkling's anger so overpowering that only the specter of revenge still held him in check. "Congratulations, cousin. You have reason to be proud," he sneered, but besides envy, his voice was also tinged with bitterness.

The Shadow Summoner suppressed his anger, for this moment should be celebrated as the greatest victory. His relative had no choice but to clutch at straws, even as he sank. Aleksander stepped forward, leaning close to his cousin's ear to whisper something. Mal reeked of sweat, but the Darkling somehow ignored it. He knew the stench of death and cowardice. And that pathetic scum exuded both.

"And yes, I have reason to be proud," he remarked, letting his hot breath send shivers down Mal's spine. "And just as you once did to me, I, too, will let you ponder this for the rest of your days," he added, resolving to end their meeting there and never again grace his relative with his presence.

Three hours later, The Black Tsar had his thoughts occupied with something else entirely. He was sitting in his study, shifting his gaze from one of his guests to the other, mentally recording everything they had said.

David Kostyk seemed excited at the thought of being able to test the Caryeva prisoner's claims that he had found a way to weaken the effects of the jurda parem antidote for a few hours. The Durast loved a challenge and never backed down from one. Besides, like his king, he kept wondering where exactly Ravka could have landed another blow, and whether it was somehow connected to the khergud soldiers. Now another possibility arose, and the fact that the antidote could be neutralized completely captured the young Materialki's receptive mind. He was already planning to perfect his own creation with the help of Kuwei, who also loved a challenge and still felt obligated to repay the Darkling for the asylum he had been granted.

"Moi Tsar," David said, scribbling cursory notes on The Shadow Summoner's desk. "Allow me to take your prisoner to our laboratory in The Little Palace, for that is the only way we can verify whether he was telling the truth. It would be best to test this theory in practice, and since we are dealing with otkazats'ya, basic security measures should prove sufficient to ensure that we are safe from the prisoner himself," stated young Durast, who had been given a seat on the royal council, and consequently, the other members could no longer accuse him of squandering funds on research that could turn the tide of the entire war.

Aleksander nodded, granting him permission. His Materialki had already saved Ravka from destruction once, so he deserved a great deal of trust. Besides, as before, The Little Palace was still heavily guarded. Not only would Pho not escape from there, but if he tried his tricks, he would bitterly regret it very quickly.

"Of course. The prisoner is at your disposal, David," replied the new Tsar, receiving a grateful nod from his Durast. "Just please report to me on all progress, as I very much hope that we will somehow prevent the complications this temporary neutralization of our antidote may introduce," he instructed, and his Materialki bowed his head to him.

"Of course, moi Soverenyi. As always, I will keep you informed of any progress in our research," he assured Aleksander, hope and excitement coloring his tone.

The Darkling then looked at Igor Krepko, whom he had also summoned for a conversation. Traveling south could soon become very problematic, so it was imperative to retrieve the letters hidden in Ilya Morozova's estate as soon as possible.

"Igor, tomorrow you will go to Avozorom and bring me the correspondence you mentioned. This is troubling me, especially since I will soon have to leave the capital again," he ordered his ancestor's former servant, establishing intense eye contact with him. "I want to be prepared for every eventuality and the possibility of betrayal from those connected to our court. The Apparat is cunning, and killing him simply without being absolutely certain of his involvement could have long-term consequences I'd rather not think about now, when Makhi Kir-Taban is acting increasingly boldly towards me," added the Darkling, who now had so many responsibilities resting on his shoulders that he was constantly reevaluating them, trying to determine what he should tackle first.

Igor also bowed respectfully before him, having risen over the past few weeks to the rank of one of those few among the otkazats'ya who had hard-earned their position.

"Of course, moi Tsar," he said, for they had already discussed it before Aleksander left for Caryeva. "I will depart at once."

"Excellent," The Shadow Summoner praised him, about to discuss a few more details about the entire expedition, when a knock sounded at his office door, causing him to abandon the idea for now, frowning absently.

General Horoshko marched into the room, clutching a long letter in an envelope made of the finest paper. Such elegant stationery was found only in one place in the entire world, and the Darkling recognized its origin almost immediately.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," the chairman of the royal council told him, then handed his ruler the letter addressed to him. "But you must read this. It is a matter of state importance."

Aleksander practically ripped the envelope from his hand, immediately breaking the elegant seal. Inside was a single sheet of paper, the contents of which caused liquid ice to flow instead of blood in the man's veins.

Empress Makhi Kir-Taban had just terminated the peace treaty with Ravka.

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