𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 | the darkling & nikolai lantsov

₄ | GREED OF MEN

[𝐁𝐀𝐆𝐇𝐑𝐀]

***

THEN

Baghra sipped her tea as she waited for her son to return to the house in which they were taking refuge. It was nothing fancy, but she was thankful that the weather was easier on her bones. Their last safehouse had bordered Tsibeya in the western Petrazoi mountains. It had been freezing, year-round.

She rocked back and forth on the old wooden chair with only the silence as company. Their hosts, a family of Grisha that had sympathized with her son's cause, were gone for the day. The father—a Tidemaker—had taken them out for a fishing trip on the river while the weather was favorable. They had offered Baghra the chance to join them, but she declined, much preferring to wait in solitude for her son. She had much to speak with him about.

That girl had been on his mind recently. The odd one that the village practically ostracized. She had warned him about drawing attention to them by getting close to her. The last thing they needed was the heated gazes of otkazat'sya following their every move. The army was looking for them, words of Grisha banding together already reaching Os Alta. But she worried more of the accompanying whispers that mentioned Shadow Summoners; an anomaly in the Grisha world.

However, Aleksander rarely listened to her, stubborn as a mule with unwavering self-confidence. She wasn't sure where that confidence came from, as she certainly never fostered such an ego. But, she suspected that the growing resentment he harbored inside him helped to fuel his ambitious activities.

Her son no longer feared the Ravkan government. Instead, he began to see what their drastic measures truly meant: they were afraid of him, of all Grisha.

Finally, after hours of waiting, her tea—the whole pot of it—long gone, Aleksander entered the modest sitting room in barely disguised excitement. Baghra raised a dark brow at him, her mouth twisted into an uncertain scowl.

He was usually quite reserved with his emotions, something he had—thankfully—picked up from her. The young man could certainly put on a mask to fool the best of them. But this, well... she hadn't seen this level of giddiness in him since he was a boy.

"I was right," he said, his voice firm with certainty. "She's Grisha."

That damn girl, Baghra thought with a sigh. "Not this again," she muttered. His attention had turned to the girl after Alexei, the man they were boarding with, told them of his suspicions that the girl and her father were Grisha hiding out.

"No," he cut her off, seriousness replacing the slight excitement in his tone. "This is no longer a theory. I saw it for myself."

Baghra took a moment to stare into his black eyes, debating whether or not to encourage this new endeavor of his. "Go on," she decided. He moved forward, taking a seat on the simple, wooden table in front of her.