ᗷEᖴOᖇE TᕼE ᗪOOᖇS to our carriage even open, I hear the eardrum-rupturing squeal of an excited child. As soon as I step out, I am tackled to the ground and put into a restricting hug by Amelia. We both giggle gleefully. I hold her close to my body, and I never want to let go. For the first time in weeks, I am finally able to completely relax. She gasps in delight when she spots her father get out of the carriage, too. He raises an eyebrow at the two of us lying on the ground right before he is also charged at. Amelia jumps in his arms and wraps her limbs around him.
Aleksander chuckles. "What is this for?" he asks.
"I missed you, too," she mumbles into the slope of his neck.
He does not respond, but I see his arms squeeze tighter around Amelia before setting her down. Instead of a kefta, she is wearing a dark blue dress with a black sash tied in a bow at her waist. Coraline—who is watching us from the entry staircase with a smile—must have dressed her up after being informed of our arrival. It is a welcome change from her usual kefta.
We all approach Coraline and greet her warmly. "Coraline, thank you," I say, "for taking care of Amelia while we were. . . away."
"The pleasure is all mine," she smiles, then leans in and holds a concealing hand between Amelia's sight and her lips. Coraline whispers, "Though, you may have some glitter in some hidden places to find later. I cleaned most of it, but I am sure you will find it for years to come."
"That is alright," I chuckle.
I can tell Amelia is bursting at the seams to make something known. She is rocking on her heels. Furthermore, she puffs out her cheeks and holds her breath until she blurts out, "I have something to show you!"
She captures mine and her father's hand, tugging us through the large entryway and into the Grand Hall. We pass between the adjacent curved staircases and to the back of the palace where the Lantsov garden resides. After dragging us past shrubbery and frozen fountains, she finally lands at a patch of Agleamia flowers. They are a brown, dried-up color, and the petals are shriveled to a crisp, as they have been ever since winter breathed its nipping coldness into the air. Agleamia flowers only grow in hot conditions and have a luminous appearance when the weather reaches just the right temperature. Though we are nearing the end of winter, it is still too chilly outside to retain any life in the garden.
"You wanted to show us these dead flowers?" I question with an arched brow.
Amelia sits beside the flower patch on her knees and takes her delicate white gloves off. "Just wait!"
Her small hands hover over the Agleamias, and heavy concentration contorts her features. Then, Amelia brings her hands together and apart to form a ball of water. She summons a gust of wind to carry and disburse the water to the plant. The soil absorbs it, hydrating the flower's roots. Then, her hands come back together to summon fire. She shrouds the plant in heat with a flick of her wrist, and a ring of fire forms. My interest is peaked even more when the plant starts to perk up. After the stems have become a healthy green, the petals uncurl, revealing a new growth of spikey, velvety purple petals. They bloom as if it were the peak of summer. The Agleamia's royal purple flowers even start to shimmer, being at the right temperature with help from Amelia's summoning.
I laugh with glee and squeeze Amelia's shoulder. "This is amazing! You learned to do this all on your own while we were gone?"
She nods and wears a proud grin.
"Very good, Little One," Aleksander says. "You may be one of the most powerful grisha in the world."
She beams at one of her father's rare compliments, which are becoming less rare as time passes. He picks her up, and we all look down, admiring her beautifully glimmering work. The radiant purple petals gleam exceptionally bright in the middle. A long time ago, the people of Ravka used to claim they were magic. I might, too, if I witnessed a whole field of Agleamias glowing like these ones are.
"When they glow, you are supposed to make a wish," I tell Amelia. Her eyes sparkle, and Aleksander sets her down so she can get closer.
Amelia hunches down so that her mouth is level with the flowers and whispers, "I wish for a pegasus. . . that smells like garlic butter." I stifle my laugh before it flies out. She bats her lashes innocently at Aleksander. "Padraya, what do you wish for?"
He cocks a brow in skepticism. I give him a dangerous look that says, Go along with it. He sighs and kneels down to Amelia's height.
"Hmm," he hums in thought. "I wish for our family to be together, forever."
"That's boring," she proclaims.
"Perhaps, but it is the sole wish I will still have in a thousand years' time." He leans in to kiss my cheek and bends down to do the same to Amelia's head. I smile. "Now, let's get inside. Those flowers might not be cold any longer, but you two are."
As we commence walking back down the rugged stone path to the palace, I remark, "Ah, yes, because the Shadow Summoner never gets cold."
"One of the many reasons my powers are better," he replies deviously.
"Oh?" I smirk. "Then why were you searching for the opposite of your power for hundreds of years?"
He eyes me from head to toe and replies, "You know why."
"I do." I entwine my fingers with his and plant a soft kiss on his knuckles.
When we enter the warm palace, Amelia spots Coraline hobbling through the main foyer and takes off in a sprint, yelling, "Hey, Miss Coraline! Can I play with my glitter again?"
"No, no!" I hear her answer echo through the faraway hall.
Now that I am alone with Aleksander, I am free to show my affection without receiving a disgusted scoff from our daughter, so I lean into his side and rest my head on his arm with a sigh. As we pass the ballroom, I say, "Maybe we should refrain from hosting balls from now on, given they have never ended well for us. Believe it or not, I am tired of being kidnapped and threatened."
"Perhaps one more ball," he replies. I give him a dangerous glare, but he explains himself by pulling me into the ballroom and grasping my hand, resting his other hand on my waist. "A private one, for the two of us?"
"I suppose that is alright. We are all we need anyway."
"We are," he hums.
"Alina Morozova, may I have this dance?"
I giggle. "You may, Aleksander Morozova."
He smiles and begins to lead me in lazy circles on the dance floor with a melody only we can hear. Not being a great dancer creates the habit of looking at my feet, but Aleksander does not allow that to happen. He grabs my chin and guides it up, forcing me to look at him. Soon, my steps become a thoughtless, lulling motion as I hold my gaze on his familiar grey eyes. Eventually, we draw closer, and I relax my head on his muscular chest while he cradles me to his body, not permitting any space between us. Our waltz becomes more of a slight swaying movement.
I interrupt the silence of the empty room, with the only sound being our agile footsteps. I mutter, "Aleksander?"
"Hm?" he hums lackadaisically.
"Promise me it will always be like this," I say, catching him by surprise. I now have his full attention as I continue. "Promise me that in a hundred years, a thousand, you will still love me like this."
We have stopped moving, and Aleksander holds my face in his palms. "I promise, Alina. I will love you just as I do now for as long as I draw breath and forever after. I will love you like this." He kisses my forehead. "Like this." He kisses my temple. "Like this." The bridge of my nose. "Like this." My cheek. "And like this." He connects his lips to mine, and we melt together. This. This is the moment they talk about, where everything seems to click into place as it should be. Maybe Saints do get a happy ending after all.
***
I can tell that the storm clouds have cleared, and blue skies lay ahead of us. Something has also changed in me that makes eternity seem like a hopeful promise rather than an unbearable thought.
That evening, Ivan stands at the head of the table at one of the largest gatherings of Ravkan officials ever to occupy the Grand Palace. I can tell Ivan's considerable ego is being stroked by how he waits to speak, wallowing in the attention. Once everyone quiets down, he announces, "I have received an official abdication of the Shu Han throne by the Kir-Taban family." He hands it over to Aleksander, but I snatch it from him to see the document with my own eyes. An astounded laugh escapes me. "Princess Makhi Kir-Taban was in line after Queen Leyti," Ivan continues, "but seeing that her people have very much turned against the Kir-Taban dynasty, she was heavily advised to abdicate the throne to the Sun Queen. Makhi made the wise decision to listen. Ravka and Shu Han are now under your rule, moya soverenyi." He is surprisingly the first to bow. The rest quickly mirror the motion after him.
"No more fighting," I whisper under my breath. "No more war."
The Darkling used to think the only way to peace was by using the Fold, scaring people into submission. I tried to show him there was another way, to the point of going behind his back and tearing down the Fold. After that, the world stayed the same cruel and suffering place. I thought I had failed, and maybe he was right all along; I was just naïve.
Oh, how incredible it feels to be right.
Through the tether, I gloat by telling Aleksander, I told you so—a phrase I have desperately wanted to say to him for three years.
Yes, you did, my Little Saint.
I do not make an effort to hide my smirk of satisfaction from him. He holds my hand under the table and squeezes it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the entrance door swing open briefly and shut right after. I do not think much of it until there is a light tugging at my skirts. I look down to find unruly blonde curls and lake-blue eyes. Aleksander rests his elbow on his knees and speaks to her softly, despite the pandemonium of the meeting. "Amelia, this is a private meeting, and it's getting late. You should be preparing for bed."
Her bottom lip protrudes into a pout. "I was scared you were going to leave again."
My frown deepens, and I say, "I don't think we will have to leave for a very long time. Ravka is safer than ever before."
Amelia takes a moment to consider this, then holds out her pinkie finger. "Promise?"
I link my finger with hers and repeat, "I promise."
"Now go put on some night attire. We will be upstairs shortly," her father says. I take a moment to look at the kefta she is wearing. She changed out of the dress she had on from earlier. The kefta of Summomer's blue carries silver, red, and blue embroidery. Wearing a unique kefta may be desired by some, but when I first arrived at the Little Palace, I felt singled out. Lonely. I wouldn't wish that upon anyone, especially not my daughter.
My thoughts stray to the Bonesmith and what Ilya Morozova said to me months ago:
"Grisha were not made to conform to orders. It narrows the possibilities of what they are capable of. Deep down, you know that."
I hate that his words held a truth to them, and I hate that he was able to coerce his opinions into my head. Ilya Morozva cursed his bloodline to repay the debt he could not pay before his martyrdom. He will always be a villain in my eyes. I so desperately wanted his words to be the nonsensical mutterings of a madman, but I saw a glimpse of the future Ilya wanted me to build when I was on the battlefield. The entire Second Army was working together as one force to be reckoned with. They were stronger than I have ever seen.
"I have a proposal," I announce suddenly, making silence fall over the room like a heavy blanket. My husband eyes me curiously.
"I want to abolish the grisha orders. No Corporalki, no Materialki. No Etherealki. Just grisha."
___________
One. More. Chapter. I'm SO excited! Make sure to SMASH the little vote star at the bottom of your screen. I know you see it. Also, feel free to comment, react, and share this story! Love to you all, and to all, a good night.