sinner saint ━ six of crows

I

               IT FELT STRANGE, to just sit utterly still in the palace with the only job to do is to make an appearance and look pretty. She knew that was never Nikolai's intention, she knew he only wanted good things for her, but she was... well, her. Good things never came easily to her.

So when the letter came through to her, and when its sender came knocking on the Little Palace's doors, she was more than happy and eager to listen. She was desperate for anything other than this wretched stillness.

It was after the morning mass when the letter got to her, she was in her assigned chambers that felt more like a choker than anything (but she wouldn't dare tell Nikolai that) and a maid delivered the piece of parchment on a silver plate. Literally.

Svetlana had to admit, she felt her heart jump in her throat as she read the words, and a sense of dread and regret washed through her. She always thought about going back to Kerch, back to Ketterdam, but she never would have thought it would be like this. Nevertheless, this was the perfect excuse to go. This was the perfect ticket to escape.

Svetlana knew that if she played this right, Nikolai wouldn't say no to her. He might even provide her a seat on the first ship out of Os Kervo and to Kerch. But she had to play this right.

She was in the meeting room with the others when Tamar walked in silently and whispered in her ear that a woman is demanding to see her. It made the meeting pause and Zoya glared at her with an expecting raised brow. "This better be a life or death matter."

Lana rolled her eyes and excused herself from the table, "I'll be back."

As she walked out, Svetlana noted the way Nikolai sighed and slumped into his seat, one of his gloved hands going to rub at his forehead in exhaustion. She couldn't blame him, the work handed to him as king was a lot. She's thankful she's not in his shoes, Svetlana didn't think she'd survive being a queen. She's got enough on her plate as it is.

She didn't know what to expect, not a lot of civilians wanted to see Svetlana, let alone demand an audience with her, but Sophia Sevkor certainly was not it.

It was like the world stopped breathing along with her, the last time she had seen Sophia she had promised her that she will be coming back safe and sound. That was about three years ago. Svetlana wanted to kill herself.

"Sof?"

The brunette looked exactly the same; gorgeous raven locks flowing down her back, crystals and pretty rocks glued onto pins pulling some strands off her face, and her trusty navy cloak around her shoulders hiding her clothing beneath.

She smiled, but it seemed cold, bitter. Her usual warm demeanor is gone and replaced with... whatever this is. Svetlana has seen the way Sophia treated strangers she didn't trust, she never thought she'd be on the receiving end of things.

"Karina." She nodded once in greetings, "Or should I call you Svetlana? I don't know who is which anymore."

She definitely was upset with her. To be fair, living in Ketterdam meant going with an alias; it meant surviving and doing everything one can to stay afloat. To keep living. And if you managed to build an empire of sorts, you've got to do what it takes to keep it up.

Svetlana used the names Karina Kozlov from the moment she stepped into the docks in Os Kervos five years ago, maybe before. In Kerch, that was the name she went by. When she met Sophia, that was the name she was called. But ever since she came back to Ravka, Mal had convinced her to go back to her real name, because that's the name that connected them to each other.

She lowered her gaze slightly, then glanced back at Sophia. She felt bad, almost awful. Because Sophia was dressed in common folk clothing like she once did, Svetlana was wearing a dress of silk and velvet. The same as every other high-ranking Grisha in this Saintsforsaken place.