Baddie Alina and slightly better Darkling?
What if Alina and stayed the night of the winter fete instead of running away? What if she had chosen the Darkling over Mal? What if the Malina ship sank fast and the Darklina ship sailed?
All these charact...
A/N Hi guys! This is an excerpt from the first book in the Shadow and Bone trilogy. I'm using this because I really don't want to describe Os Alta or the Little Palace incorrectly (It may also be because I couldn't think of anything to write for this that actually made sense - you should've seen my outline before I gave up 😭 - but we don't talk about that)
Alina's POV
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Just after dawn, we passed through a massive gate and the famous double walls of Os Alta.
Mal and I had taken our training not far from here, in the military stronghold at Poliznaya, but we had never been inside the city itself. Os Alta was reserved for the very wealthy, for the homes of military and government officials, their families, their mistresses, and all the businesses that catered to them.
I felt a twinge of disappointment as we passed shuttered shops, a wide marketplace where a few vendors were already setting up their stalls, and crowded rows of narrow houses. Os Alta was called the dream city. It was the capital of Ravka, home to the Grisha and the King's Grand Palace. But if anything, it just looked like a bigger, dirtier version of the market town at Keramzin.
All that changed when we reached the bridge. It spanned a wide canal where little boats bobbed in the water beneath it. And on the other side, rising from the mist, white and gleaming, lay the other Os Alta. As we crossed the bridge, I saw that it could be raised to turn the canal into a giant moat that would separate the dream city before us from the common mess of the market town that lay behind it.
When we reached the other side of the canal, it was as if we had passed into another world. Everywhere I looked, I saw fountains and plazas, verdant parks, and broad boulevards lined with perfect rows of trees. Here and there, I saw lights on in the lower stories of the grand houses, where kitchen fires were being lit and the day's work was starting.
The streets began to slope upward, and as we climbed higher, the houses became larger and more imposing, until finally we arrived at another wall and another set of gates, these wrought in gleaming gold and emblazoned with the King's double eagle. Along the wall, I could see heavily armed men at their posts, a grim reminder that for all its beauty, Os Alta was still the capital of a country that had long been at war.
The gate swung open.
We rode up a broad path paved in glittering gravel and bordered by rows of elegant trees. To the left and right, stretching into the distance, I saw manicured gardens, rich with green and hazy in the mist of early morning. Above it all, atop a series of marble terraces and golden fountains, loomed the Grand Palace, the Ravkan King's winter home.
When we finally reached the huge double-eagle fountain at its base, the Darkling leaned forward to say something in my ear.
"So what do you think of it?" he asked.
I glanced at him, then back at the elaborate facade. It was larger than any building I had ever seen, its terraces crowded with statues, its three stories gleaming with row after row of shining windows, each ornamented extensively in what I suspected was real gold.
"It's very ... grand?" I said carefully.
He looked at me, a little smile playing on his lips. "I think it's the ugliest building I've ever seen," he said and nudged Nycta forward.
We followed a path that curved behind the palace and deeper into the grounds, passing a hedge maze, a rolling lawn with a columned temple at its center, and a vast greenhouse, its windows clouded with condensation. Then we entered a thick stand of trees, large enough that it felt like a small wood, and passed through a long, dark corridor where the branches made a dense, braided roof above us.
The hair rose on my arms. I had the same feeling that I'd had as we were crossing the canal, that sense of crossing the boundary between two worlds.
When we emerged from the tunnel into weak sunshine, I looked down a gentle slope and saw a building like nothing I'd ever seen.
"Welcome to the Little Palace," said the Darkling.
It was a strange name because though it was smaller than the Grand Palace, the "Little" Palace was still huge. It rose from the trees surrounding it like something carved from an enchanted forest, a cluster of dark wood walls and golden domes. As we drew closer, I saw that every inch of it was covered in intricate carvings of birds and flowers, twisting vines, and magical beasts.
A charcoal-clad group of servants waited on the steps. We dismounted, and one of them rushed forward to take our horse, while others pushed open a large set of double doors. As we passed through them, I couldn't resist the urge to reach out and touch the exquisite carvings. They had been inlaid with mother-of-pearl so that they sparkled in the early morning light. How many hands, and how many years had it taken to create such a place?
We passed through an entry chamber and then into a vast hexagonal room with four long tables arranged in a square at its center. Our footsteps echoed off the stone floor, and a massive gold dome seemed to float above us at an impossible height.
The Darkling took aside one of the servants, an older woman in a charcoal dress, and spoke to her in hushed tones. Then he gave me a small bow and strode off across the hall, followed by his men.
I felt a slight surge of annoyance. He'd given me no idea what I might expect once we arrived. But I didn't have the nerve or the energy to run after him, so I meekly followed the woman in gray through another pair of double doors and into one of the smaller towers.
When I saw all the stairs, I almost broke down and wept. Maybe I'll just ask if I can stay down here in the middle of the hall, I thought miserably. Instead, I put my hand on the carved banister and dragged myself upward, my stiff body protesting every step. When we reached the top, I felt like celebrating by lying down and taking a nap, but the servant was already moving down the hallway. We passed door after door until finally, we reached a chamber where another uniformed maid stood waiting by an open doorway.
Dimly, I registered a large room, heavy golden curtains, and a fire burning in a beautifully tiled grate, but all I cared about was the huge canopied bed.
"Can I get you anything? Something to eat?" asked the woman. I shook my head. I just wanted to sleep.
"Very good," she said and nodded to the maid, who curtsied and disappeared down the hall. "Then I'll let you rest. Make sure to lock your door."
I blinked.
"As a precaution," said the woman and left, closing the door gently behind her.
A precaution against what? I wondered. But I was too tired to think about it. I locked the door, peeled off the kefta and my boots, and fell into bed.
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