A year after Alina Starkov tears down the Shadow Fold, she is finally able to settle into her peaceful life. There is no more war with Ravka. The Darkling, once her enemy, is now a loyal, protective husband, and a father to their adoptive daughter...
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"Where is Amelia?"
I ᒪOOK ᖴᖇᗩᑎTIᑕᗩᒪᒪY in the corner of the room that she was sitting in when I left. The glitter and sketch pad are still spread out on the ground, but there is no sign of Amelia in our bedroom. I try to calm down, but it only turns my panic into anger.
"She probably left because you kept her in a locked room for days!" I growl.
Aleksander runs a hand through his inky black locks. "Yes, and she shares your inability to follow directions, so I shouldn't be surprised that she left. She can't have gone far. Come," he gestures for me to join him. I gladly do so. Though Amelia is most likely running around in the palace after being cooped up for so long, I can't help but feel a dreadful anxiety not knowing where she is. However, there is also a pang of fear that runs deeper. Something does not feel right. "The instinct of a borne mother," as Aleksander would call it.
We check adjoining hallways for her on our way, but Amelia loves being outside, so that is the first place we search thoroughly. First, I scan the Lantsov garden. Nothing. Meanwhile, Aleksander scours the courtyard. I move on to the grove of trees, which would usually be a daunting undertaking, but winter has stripped all the leaves off the trees, so it is easier to comb through the branches.
After a while, I consider searching inside the palace again, but the doubt diminishes when I hear a voice. Amelia's voice. She is speaking with someone whose voice I do not recognize. This causes my pace to quicken. I tear through the branches recklessly to find the source of the voice. I rip my arm open on a thorny tree, but I am too focused to feel the pain. Finally, I reach Amelia.
My breath hitches. "You," I rasp, pulling Amelia away from the man before us. I recognize the heavy blue cloak and icy, colorless eyes. "You're the one who was watching us by the lake when we were skating. Who are you?"
He smiles and says, "I was just telling your daughter how special she is."
"Stay away from her."
"It's okay," Amelia assures. "He doesn't want to hurt me. Look. He made me this just now." She holds up a small pendant necklace made of gold.
He made a necklace? Is he a Durest?
He turns his attention to the fresh cut on my arm. "May I?" he reaches for my arm and grazes it with his fingers before I flinch away, glaring at him all the while. He smiles. I look down to find the cut healed in a matter of seconds.
Now I am more confused than before. "You're Grisha," I state. "Are you a Durest or a Healer?"
He chuckles softly. "Are we not all things?"
I've heard those words before. . .
"What do you want?" I ask abruptly.
"I just came to see what I've missed. I am glad to see my line will continue with strength." He winks at Amelia.
