chapter four,     monotonic

𝕯arkling

           IT WAS STRICTLY WORK WITH HER. She was always punctual, usually, without an escort, she became a frequent guest in his office. No matter how determined she was, behind those calm eyes she was hiding something that was not letting her express her power. Oddly enough, no matter the fact that he was an Amplifier, nothing apart from reading emotions and changing his heart rate changed.

            Always positioned on the same dark armchair beside the window, hands always clasped between her thighs, posture straight and cheeks slightly flustered – twelve days in a row. At this point, it was getting impossible to believe the monotonic behaviour of hers. The need to shut out her feelings and endure the mockery of other Grisha and the persistent words of his.

            The Darkling needed results. There were none.

            Yet, the urge to break down her walls was growing each day. The sweet, encouraging words seemed to not work with her and he was feeling frustrated.

            On top of that, he received a letter from General Zlatan. Much to his anger, the King worked on something without consulting him and now, the Darkling had a big issue. The King didn't know what he was doing as he had no strategic or logical thinking.

            Ravka was on the edge of a Civil War and even the General had to admit that it was mostly his fault. The Fold was his creation and because of that, the Western part of Ravka, slowly but surely hinted that they wanted independency and the Royal Family was against that.

            It wasn't only the issue about the ports and the manufacture, but it was also about the Ravka that they ruled. No King wanted to lose any lands. But his idiocy was beyond anyone's knowledge and as always, the General was left to deal with the problems he has made.

            The King promised that he will compromise with General Zlatan. And the Darkling wished of nothing more but to kill them both.

            Everyone knew that Zlatan despised Grisha. In fact, he captured them and sold them to Fjerdans for a good amount of money. Zlatan was a General of the First Army, meaning that his and the Darkling's titles were exactly the same. Only both of them wished for different things for their country and their people.

            There were many topics to discuss with Zlatan and the Fold wasn't making the journeys easier as not many dared to cross it – only when it was necessary. However, meeting him wasn't that horrible as he has met that smug bastard a few times before. The Darkling knew what he needed to do and it was time to catch that idiot and behead him in public in order to prevent the Civil War.  

            Sacrifices were necessary to prevent wars.

            Pushing his hands to the table, he leaned on them, letting out a frustrated groan. He didn't like involving Grisha in business like that. Each one of them was valuable in their own and he did everything to protect then. If not for the stupidity of the King—the day he will finally slit that old man's throat will be the happiest day of his life.

            He needed a crew.

            Within that thought, he left his office, walking into the dimmed corridors, going down the staircase, wanting to get some fresh air, only a distant sound downstairs made him halt. The downstairs area was the kitchen and the rooms for the maids and they should've been sleeping already.

            He silently walked downstairs, hearing little clinking sounds from the kitchen. Probably someone was making a cup of tea, but there was a schedule for the day in order to keep everything running smoothly around her and it was already past midnight. Also, there was no light inside the kitchen.

            Liya.

            Beside him, there was an oil lamp on a little table and he grasped it, igniting it with matches placed beside it and he walked inside the kitchen. In the spacious kitchen, he saw how Liya froze from hearing someone enter it as she was holding a few glass jars with herbs in her hands.

            "General," she exclaimed, silently, making him halt and wonder how did she know it was him.

            "What are you doing here? It's already past midnight," he pointed out and walked closer to the wide table, placing the lamp on it as it wasn't providing much light. He managed to see that she was indeed boiling tea, but there were tons of glass containers on the table and a little stone spatula to crush them.

            "I can't sleep," she admitted, her voice as if embarrassed that he caught her in here.

            "If you wanted a tea – you could've called a maid."

            Pushing one of the jars to her nose, she took a pinch of the herbs and placed it in the little bowl, "I didn't want to wake them up."

            Once again, she and her wish to not receive any help.

            "Make some for me? Or are you poisoning yourself?" the Darkling slightly teased, only to see her smile.

            He realised he hasn't seen her smile like that.

            "It's just a tea or I could be lying—still want some?" she was the one to tease back and he had to shut his mouth before it opened in surprise.

            The man leaned to the wall behind him, right beside the pantry, crossing his arms on his chest, watching the way she raised another jar, sniffed it and placed it back down, "I know you won't poison me."

            "I could."

            "But you won't."

            Taking the stone spatula, crushing the herbs, she slightly shook her head, "Now you are just tempting me."

            Only then did he notice that she was wearing her nightgown with a dark red silk robe, loosely tied around her waist. Her long hair was falling on her one shoulder in loose curls and he was almost flabbergasted from the difference that there was no more monotonic Liya.

            "Do you come here every night?"

            After this question, he knew he made a mistake – the smile slowly faded from her lips, her shoulders slightly slumping as she kept on crushing the herbs. It was always like that – a question that was a bit more personal and she put up the walls.

            "I don't sleep very well. I found some herbs in the kitchen, so I decided to make some tea."

            "I don't sleep very well as well. That, we have in common," he admitted.

            Liya placed the stone spatula and she turned around, extending her hands so she wouldn't get hurt. Leaning down, she opened a little metal door where a kettle was placed on hot stones which is done every evening by maids in case anyone wanted a warm drink. She carefully took that, with the help of her free hand to place it on the table on a spot that wasn't taken. Watching her like this, it almost looked as if she had no difficulty managing her everyday life.

            Gently grabbing a cup, she covered it with her hand as she positioned the kettle and she removed her hand, pouring the water. She was quietly murmuring something and only when she stopped pouring, did he realise that she counted until four so she wouldn't overspill.

            She quickly found the bowl and added some of the herbs inside of the cup and she gently pushed the cup towards him, saying, "You haven't tried mine. Please."

            As he watched her with a certain pride, he walked to the other end of the table, grabbed the cup of tea in his hands, watching the way she repeated the whole process in another cup. After that, she grasped the jars, closing them tight and she turned around, pressing them to her chest as her right hand quickly gripped the shelf behind her. Tapping a few baskets from right to left, she found the space where she placed all of the jars.

            It was oddly satisfying and calming just to watch her do anything. So used to seeing her sit in that armchair, barely moving – it was such a delight to see her like this. Within that thought, he took a sip and he released a silent hum, delighted by the taste.

            "It's good, isn't it?" she softly asked, taking the other cup in her hands and sipping some tea.

            Surprised that she even heard him hum, he answered, "Are you a herbalist?"

            Shaking her head, "It's not a title you give someone without a sight..." He could swear he heard a glint of disappointment in her voice. "But I do know a few things about herbs even if I depend on my scent."

            "So you are a herbalist."

            Liya scoffed, but a little grin sat on her face, "You just have to disagree with me, don't you?"

            "Yes, I do."

            The next few minutes were spent in the most comfortable silence he has ever experienced. Just the little dimmed light enough to light her up even if he didn't mind the darkness, the warmth in his body from feeling the tea take an immediate effect on him – oddly calm. Until he remembered what needed to be done.

            Placing the cup on the table, he stated, "There is a job to be done."

            "I'm listening," she placed the cup back on the table and slightly hugged herself, making him notice that she was shivering.

            "I'm sure you know the situation with West Ravka. It was about time I went there for a meeting and I want you to go with me."

            Her posture didn't hide her surprise, "Me?"

            "I want to keep my group small since General Zlatan is not very fond of Grisha."

            "Wouldn't it be better to take an experienced Heartrender? Fedyor or—."

            The Darkling shook his head, interrupting her, "I do not need a Heartrender for an escort. I think travelling would be beneficial for you. Sometimes our powers can get triggered by a certain moment."

            "Oh."

            "There is a lot of tension brewing in West Ravka, I have to be honest with you. For some Grisha the hatred can enhance their powers and there is a lot of loathing for us in there," he said, voice smooth, "I won't force you to do this if you are not content with it."

            She'll say yes, he knows it.

            "Are we going to cross through the... Shadow Fold?"

            "Yes. I'm sure you know the risks."

            Liya took a deep breath, her expression slightly changing as she started fiddling with her fingers, exhaling a half minute later, "Alright. I think the—the experience could help bring something out of me."

            The Darkling smirked, not realising that it was going to be that easy to convince her. Oh, Liya. Sacrifices needed to be made. You'll understand.

author's note:

thoughts on the book? personally, I love their dynamic. The Darkling is so eerie and she always puts up her wall.

m.n