"Go. Flee. Go west.
Wait for the King to die.
Then return with a new name.
A nobleman's name.
Bide your time until there's a problem only Grisha can solve.
Then the King must embrace us"
Aleksander had been in exile for too long, following his moth...
Many men had courted her. They had flooded her with gifts. They made her many promises. But only one of them was keeping them all. Alyssa had waited for days, then weeks, to see any signal, but her husband's affection seemed never to falter. Kiril kept seeming too perfect to be real, and she didn't want to wake up from that dream. But naturally the most beautiful dream had to precede the worst nightmare.
Alyssa rode back to Askesk next to the new General, after their trip to the southern lands. Kiril was born to be a leader. It was clear since the beginning that he had enough knowledge to counsel the King on military matters and he had the charisma to charm the army. The dream of a reuniting Ravka as a whole country was becoming reality. And the enemy felt threatened by that possibility. Fear was the worst poison.
Alyssa was glad to be back home, although her fears made her speechless. She barely talked since she left Os Kervo, her hometown, so different and strange after years. She stepped into their apartment, noticing the fire already burning to warm the rooms, but not enough to warm her heart. Buckets of clean water and clean clothes were also there to welcome them back. Alyssa felt hands on her shoulders and she flinched. How could she avoid shuddering when she had the destiny of her country weighing on her shoulders? When she turned her head, her husband smiled down at her, his fingers unlacing delicately her coat. She wished to tell him everything, to persuade him to run away instantly, to flee beyond the sea. The emissary from the Southern Lands was in the palace. She felt his threatening presence soaking the air in the whole building. He was pretending to be a friend, agreeing to Aleksander's terms for the truce. He revealed his true nature only to Alyssa, when she had looked down to her city from a hill and the emissary whispered awful things to her. Alyssa closed her eyes to shove those memories away while Aleksander pressed his hands on her shoulders to make her sit down on a chair. He was mistaking her silence for her uneasiness linked to Os Kervo and the teenage traumas she lived in her hometown. She wished to ask, to beg for his help. But she knew the General wouldn't agree to save himself if she asked him to. He wouldn't abandon Ravka. Not even for her. "We are all so weary" Aleksander said, a hand caressing her rigid face, so gently that it brought tears to her eyes "You can rest as much as you need". He kneeled in front of her. She was one of the very few people the General would kneel to. She and the King. Aleksander helped her to get rid of her boots, her aching feet grateful to be out of that choking prison. While her mind and her chest couldn't enjoy the same relief. She was chained, she was caged, although it was an invisible jail.
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When finally she laid down on their bed, she curled and kept her back at him. He never forced her and that night he quickly fell asleep next to her. Her tired eyes couldn't blink. They stared at the flame of the candle that they always kept lit thought the night, to chase their nightmares away. But that trick wasn't efficient anymore. Alyssa's life was turning into a living nightmare.
Distant voices and screams echoed in her mind. Alyssa held her breath as the flame of the candle turned into the fire that swallowed her family and her home. The King of Ravka had died. That bad news just reached Os Kervo when an enemy army attacked the city, aiming at its count. Alyssa was still sleepy when she was forced out of her room. Her father covered her with heavy clothes, but all she could stare at was the sword in his hand. He was a peaceful man, he preferred diplomacy to violence, speeches to duels. But for his family he would fight with any weapon. She had frequently stumbled on the stairs, but her father never stopped, his hand kept pulling her down, until they reached a back door of the palace. There she had met Ronan for the first time, a fierce warrior, who listened intently to her father's instruction. All she cared about was hearing that she was going to be separated from her family. And she tried to rebel to it. "You have to go" her father said, so harshly that brought more tears to her scared eyes. She had rarely heard that tone from him and it almost stopped her from complaining. He had seemed regretting it. He had grabbed her face, making her look at his anguished face, crowned by dark hair. Those black hair that she hadn't inherited, making scandalmongers claim that he wasn't her real father. But her father said as a matter of fact "Blood of my blood". He had pressed a fierce kiss on her forehead "We are with you always" he said, his nails digging painfully in her skin "Now go and live. Live for us. And don't look back". But she had looked back. And saw the flames devouring her palace, her home.
