Which Witch || Aleksander Morozova

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝔀𝓸

The Black General

—

"I need to speak with General Kirigan." Chin raised, Katerina surveys each of the guards evenly, trying to determine which one of them is in charge.

They all wear the Oprichniki uniform, though they appear to be on a break as they lean against a wall by the small metal gate that leads to the Little Palace.

The palace itself is hidden behind the large stone gateway.

A tall man with a dark beard lifts his head in her direction, taking the cigarette from his mouth as he speaks. "Sorry my lady, the General is quite busy."

"This is official business from the palace."

"What business?" he inquires.

She gives him a hard look. "That is between myself and the General. But you may tell him that I've found what it is he's looking for."

The guards suddenly exchange looks, as if silently asking one another if they're all thinking the same thing. She isn't concerned. They likely know quite a bit about the General's projects as is, being his personal guards.

Then the one who addressed her – the one she's deduced to be the leader – nods at another, a blonde woman. "Anya. Take a walk?"

She nods, and without a word, turns and disappears through the gate.

While Katerina waits, she surveys the flower bushes lining the road, eyes picking apart the different leaves, colours and even small bugs. Meanwhile, her head is spinning at an alarming rate.

What if the General won't believe her? Sometimes even I don't believe it. Then she'd need a contingency. Find a reason to pull Alina from her unit to the Capital? But even then, how could I keep tabs on things if the General won't work with me? Not to mention there's nothing I could do to prove Alina's power to her even if I told her. She'd think I'd lost my mind and so would everyone else. And then everything would happen exactly the way it was written to anyways.

It's just when she's feeling her patience is about to slide away that Anya returns, the sound of the metal gate pulling her from her thoughts.

Anya bows her head slightly. "Come with me, My Lady."

The Little Palace is beautiful. As Anya leads Katerina down a gravelled pathway, she catches her first glimpse of it, her breath stolen from her lungs. It's far grander than she could have imagined, and despite years of schooling her every emotion, she can't help but stare as she follows Anya through the entrance. This was the place she dreamed about when she had no dreams left to cling to, after all.

Anya walks like a soldier; shoulders straight with her head level as she makes her way through the corridors, heavy boots thudding against the oak floor.

Meanwhile, Katerina allows herself to tip her head towards the ceiling, admiring the ornate carvings painted in gold. The wallpaper that lines each corridor is exquisite, a soft cream colour split by intricate patterns.

Even with the similar colouring, there's something so much less gaudy and so much more comforting about this place than the Grand Palace.

It's when Anya stops in front of a set of dark wooden doors that Katerina recollects her cool demeanour, the sun in eclipse carved into the door a sobering sight.

Anya knocks, and a man's voice calls out, "Enter."

The walls of the war room are lined with maps and papers. Katerina doesn't spend too much time admiring the room though, as her eyes land on its sole occupant. The Darkling.