34 - Aleksander

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News from the palace reached Adena a few days after he arrived. The King had ordered his death for killing King Konstantin.

No word about Yelena had arrived yet, and though he didn't like it, the Grisha had been forced to retreat to Kribirsk, where another more fortified base waited.

Three weeks after their arrival, the entire camp seemed to be waiting with bated breath. Grisha soldiers had left their posts at the borders to join them in protest of the king trying to kill their leader.

Aleksander was honoured to have had them take such action, all for him and he kept his head high as he made his way through the camp. Each day brought new fears, but each sunrise was another reminder that he had survived. After over a century of running, he would not run any longer.

Surprisingly, the king had not sent any First Army soldiers to try taking him down. Either they were too afraid to, or something big was coming.

After breakfast, Aleksander had been on his way to a meeting with the latest arrivals from the Fjerdan border when shouts went up. In the distance, a lone rider in a crimson kefta headed towards them. Aleksander knew it was her even before she got to the edge of the camp.

He waited solemnly as she dismounted, the Grisha surrounding them unsure of what to do. They would never attack her, he knew that. Not after all she had done for them. Matria grisha, the mother of Grisha they called her.

But they would defend him too. He only hoped that she had not come as an enemy.

"Hello," she finally looked up at him, her face impassive.

"Yelena." She was as beautiful as ever, but he could not forget the fear on her face that day. Never before had she looked at him that way. She was supposed to be the one who wasn't afraid of him. Something had changed between them in those moments, he knew it.

She looked around at the camp, "This is...quite the camp."

"Don't," his voice had been reduced to a whisper.

Yelena nodded solemnly, "The king is calling for your death."

"If you have only come here to tell me that, then you are incredibly late," he sighed. "Why did it take you so long to arrive? It's been weeks. I worried that you were..." Dead.

"Can we talk somewhere private?" Yelena looked to the people around them.

"Why?" Dima demanded. "So you can kill him without an audience? That is why you're here isn't it."

"She wouldn't," Pavel sneered at Dima.

Yeva nodded, "Yelena is no fool, she has a plan, no matter why she was sent here."

Yelena picked at non-existent threads on her cuffs, "Thank you. Besides, I am not known for my subtlety when it comes to killing people. I could have killed you a hundred times already."

No one moved so she sighed, "Please, you cannot imagine the pressure I am under, we don't have time for this."

He could see it, the way her eyes seemed glazed over, as though she hadn't been sleeping well. The way her shoulders drooped slightly, her posture only slightly less than perfect. Anyone else wouldn't have noticed the signs, but he had been studying her for decades.

Aleksander stepped aside, gesturing to his command tent.

Yelena breathed a visible sigh of relief and followed him. Pavel and Yeva fell into step beside him. Aleksander wasn't surprised, of course her two Corporalki leaders would remain by her side. Even so, it was the first time he had ever thought to doubt his position. If the Grisha had to pick a side, between Yelena and him, who would they choose?

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