Of Crows and Eagles // Grishaverse

Introductions

Alina

Alina cracked an eye open to see rays of sunshine dappling the walls of the room around her, shifting around and creating elaborate patterns as it did so. She let out a low groan and forced herself to sit upright. The bed next to her was empty and cold to the touch. Mal must've already woken up.

Rubbing her eyes, Alina crawled out from under a mountain of sheets and pillows and promptly decided that she didn't feel up to returning them to their original position. Considering the state of some of the rooms at Keramzin, she doubted Mal would care either.

They were staying in the same bedroom that had belonged to Alina when she had been the Sun Summoner, living at the Little Palace, discovering her powers. There was enough extra space for the resident Grisha that Genya had suggested making it into their own designated guest room, and though Alina and Mal had both agreed that it seemed rather unnecessary, they had gone along with it anyway. Nikolai had even added a plaque outside the door, explaining briefly that these were the rooms Sankta Alina had once slept in.

Now, the saint in question gazed at her reflection in the small mirror that hung across from the bed. Her hair was, unsurprisingly, a tangled mess, but other than that, she looked decent enough. Alina picked up a pearl-inlaid hairbrush and began to tug it through the snarls, wincing as she did so. After five minutes, she set the hairbrush down and ran her fingers through her now-smooth curtain of white hair, finding only one knot that hadn't yet managed to untangle itself.

When she finished, Alina turned side to side, guiltily admiring her reflection. She didn't typically care one way or the other about appearances, but there was something about the presence of the Grisha, their undying beauty, that gave her the urge to try a little bit harder with her own looks.

Satisfied, Alina turned on her heel and walked towards the mahogany closet that stood steadfastly in one corner of the room. Despite the bright rays of sun that shone through the window, the brass handles were cold against her calloused palms. Throwing the doors open, Alina was greeted by a shocking array of options: roughspun, olive drab, a few chemises, and even her old kefta.

Alina ran her hands over the blue silk, lingering on the intricate golden embroidery, before shoving it away. Too obvious. There was no easily explainable reason as to why an otkazat'sya would be wearing the Sun Summoner's kefta. Eventually, she settled–rather grudgingly–on a long-sleeved white blouse and olive green trousers. Alina was well aware of the fact that, combined with her scarf, she'd look more like a peasant grandmother than a young lady preparing to attend the royal wedding, but there was hardly anything she could do about that.

Alina tugged the clothes on, ignoring the way they scratched against her skin. As she finished, she grabbed a faded red scarf from the nightstand and pulled it over her head. Alina felt her hearing muffle slightly. It was a sensation she had grown accustomed to, if slightly bothered by.

Turning on her heel, Alina crossed the room and pulled the door open. She traveled down a short flight of stairs and through two hallways before she reached the corridor that would lead to the dining hall. From around the corner, she could hear voices–a combination of male and female–arguing playfully.

"If you can find a way to steal the queen's wedding gown from her back, I will gladly help you sell it when we get home," a man's voice rang out, strong and unwavering. Alina pulled down a corner of her scarf so she could hear better, a strand of pale hair falling into her face as she did so.

"Don't expect a share in the pay." Another man, his voice low and raspy. Alina could hear the party's footsteps approaching and quickly ducked into a nearby alcove. She watched as they rounded the corner, blinking in surprise at the ragtag assortment of people before her.