"Crowns topple easily. Thrones crumble like dust. Hearts cease to beat. Thorns draw blood."
In a country torn into two, there should have been no room for mistakes. Especially not at the very core of the royal family. That was what she was. Yes, a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The Shadow Fold.
A patch of land, a dark splash of ink on the Ravkan Peninsula. Some called it 'the Unsea' or simply 'the Fold'. An incurable scar on the map, growing more and more as the years passed.
Her tutors had told her of its monstrosity. On maps, the Shadow Fold was shown as a long, narrow lake, a stain, and sometimes just a bleak and shapeless cloud but in it were the monsters.
Volcra, as they were called. Monsters who thirst for human blood and crave the taste of flesh. Creatures who thrived in the darkness and hated the light. Abominations created by unnatural power.
Her father had told her that her grandfather sought the evil Grisha who had created the Fold and put a stop to all the trading for a while. It had, after all, divided the country in half, forever splitting the eastern and western sides of Ravka.
King Anastas had hunted down every Grisha he could get his hands on ever since then. People had said that Ravka had suffered the consequences due to one man who had only wanted power.
The Black Heretic.
He had died from the process of creating the Fold. But he had left behind a son, a son that would become the father of Aleksander. The man who had helped her with everything.
When King Anastas hunted Grisha across the whole country, the people swore that they could smell the scent of burning flesh in the air. The nation was purged of all Grisha for the sins of one man.
King Anastas had taught his son to hate Grisha as he had. For a while, King Andrei had the same way of thinking as his father. He had continued with the executions and the hunting until the day that his little girl was discovered on the ground, her arms covered in blood and her caretaker jumping from three stories high.
Perhaps it was divine justice. Or perhaps it was merely luck that the granddaughter of a known Grisha hater and the daughter of someone who was taught to hate Grisha was Grisha herself.
Irina let out a low laugh under her breath despite her exhaustion. It certainly was ironic that such a thing could happen in the Lantsov family. They were basically a treasure trove of secrets and scandals.
Luckily, no one at the Grisha camp seemed particularly inclined to discover all her secrets. Truth be told, everyone avoided them like the plague. Yes, they were allowed to accompany them to rescue Grisha from their various hiding places. Something that Baghra and Aleksander seemed familiar with.
However, once everyone became aware of her true identity and Aleksander's ability, no one wanted to be involved. A Shadow Summoner and a princess of Ravka, two people aggressively being hunted by the king. Only Maria spoke to them and of course, Baghra, whose sole purpose was to torment Irina. At least, in her eyes.
