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" And I could wait patiently, but,
I really wish you would,
Drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain,
Kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain "
―THE NIGHT BEFORE we enter Os Alta, we rest in the dacha of a nobleman, Count Minkoff, just outside the city walls. He's esteemed for breeding dwarf fruit trees, and his land has the sweet scent of fresh, ripe peaches and plums, accompanied by the sound of leaves rustling in the gentle, merciful gusts of wind among Ravka's scorching summer. The sun has begun to set, a gorgeous crimson orb on the horizon. I wonder how it must feel to be Alina and know you have the power to control something so beautiful, something so powerful.
As I slide off my horse and enter the building, I note that Alina has been granted an elegant bedchamber on the second floor. Tamar takes the room next to it, and Tolya and Mal are across the hall, stuck sharing a room. I've been given the splendid chambers on the other side of Alina's door, the Countess not seeming to understand that I'm technically not actually royalty, as she and her husband bow whenever I'm in their presence.
Nikolai tells me I'll get used to it, yet somehow I doubt even he's used to it yet.
When I enter my bedchambers, I see a dress laid out on the sheets. My eyes widen and my gaze darts around the room for anyone who could have entered and placed it there, but clearly they're long gone. I walk over to the bed to examine the gown.
It has a humbly cut neckline, a deep maroon hemmed in black lace and pearls. The skirt has multiple thick layers of tulle, silk beneath it all to prevent chafing. On top of it is a tiny piece of paper. I pick it up to read the words scrawled onto it.
Hopefully this makes dinner tonight a little less insufferable. If not, you'll look gorgeous, at the very least.
- N. L.
I can almost hear him saying the words and envision his clever hazel eyes glinting paired with his too-perfect prince's grin. I swallow, rereading the words over and over, dissecting them before I tuck the note into my pocket.
Dinner is in a few minutes, and the Countess has sent a maid to help me put on the dress and to do my hair. Although she isn't nearly as skilled or pristine as the servants at the Little Palace, she effectively helps me slide the dress over my head and onto my body.
I barely have time to admire myself in the mirror before she plants me down at the dressing table. I stare at myself in the vanity mirror as she fusses with my messy curls.
At the palace, I used to use multiple products to keep my hair less knotted, but seeing as I've been trying not to die, I haven't had the time. I almost feel bad for the poor girl as she combs though my ringlets before putting half of my hair up with a faux ruby-studded pin.
