"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...
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Irina raised the glass of kvas to her lips as she stared at the large structure. It was certainly more beautiful than that of the Grand Palace and much safer. She had ensured that there would be an impenetrable defense to keep those inside safe.
Even if they had liberated the whole of Ravka, there were still those to consider outside of the country. Though she doubted they would attack now that she had regained control of the nation, established a treaty with Fjerda, and have even developed a friendship with the Shu Han.
Prince Antero's younger brother had been quite agreeable. After news of Prince Antero's death spread all the way to Fjerda, a small funeral was held then a coronation. Not that anyone was upset with the heir's death. The Drüskelle was happy enough with the king despite being warned of the actions they might think to take against Grisha.
All knew now what had happened to Ravka after all. A small army of Grisha taking down a whole kingdom. It was no easy feat of course, yet on paper, it was almost impossible. No one would dare go against them now. All who have executed Grisha must be quivering in fear especially now that they were held in a position of prestige in Ravka.
The palace itself was painted in a beautiful white with gold accents, its spires reaching up to the sky with such intricate patterns and stable structures. It was not as large as the Grand Palace but it was larger than all other buildings in Ravka. Its exterior was magnificent but its interior, if possible, was even better.
The regent had commissioned artists to paint its interiors and builders to create special rooms for Grisha. There were paintings portraying events in the lives of saints, to show everyone the magnanimity and greatness of Grisha. There was a library filled with books containing the unfiltered and true history of Ravka, a dining hall, training grounds, and countless chambers to house hundreds of Grisha.
Even standing outside, she could hear the sounds of laughter coming from those taking up lessons inside and the elements being manipulated in the training grounds.
The Little Palace.
A sanctuary and a haven for those like her. They would have what she didn't at first. They would be better. A new generation to undo the mistakes of the past.
"Father, wherever you are, I hope you know that your precious kingdom is alright. I know that even though you were flawed, you still loved your children. Igor and I are alright, or at least we will be." Irina lifted the goblet from her lips and poured the remaining kvas to the ground, chuckling softly. "As for you, Grandfather, I hope you're miserable in your grave as you watch your descendants defy all of your beliefs."
"Should you really be insulting the dead like that?" A voice spoke from behind her, a lingering presence that stole her very breath away. All of a sudden, she was no longer a fearsome Heartrender, she was a woman in love. Only he had the capability to leave her breathless and up until that moment, she had thought that he would never awaken.
