chapter six, your name

𝓐leksander & 𝕷iya

SEEING THE KING'S FACE looking at Liya Safin with that desperately hungry was making him sick in the stomach, but at the same time, he couldn't wait to tell that old moron that this wasn't what he think it was. The King insisted on meeting up with Liya and him during lunch and now they were all surrounded by an awkward silence and a very judging look from the Queen.

"We are most delighted to hear that you were found alive. We need soldiers," the King said, putting his attention on Liya, who, if the Darkling could add, looked marvellous in the sunlight.

"What is she going to do there, my darling?" The Queen sighed dramatically, wearing her smile as if it was stuck to her frozen face. "She is blind. She's not for the battlefield."

Liya didn't even shift beside him, but he knew that she was insulted by the words of the Queen who wanted nothing more than to lay in a bed with a man who wasn't with the King's title.

"If I may get straight to the business," the Darkling started, slightly shifting forwards, "I wanted to announce that I'm courting Miss Safin officially."

"Oh," the Queen was the first one to react, her frozen corners slightly moving down into a frown.

Liya tried not to react to the Queen's surprise. She could clearly hear her heartbeat – it was fast and worried. Oh, Liya had no idea that the Queen desired the Darkling so much.

"You fascinate me, General," the King placed the napkin on the table, slightly shaking his head. "I've introduced you to many high-rank women and you have denied them all. How did Miss Safin catch your eye?"

There was bitterness in the moron's voice that the Darkling enjoyed a little bit too much. The younger man chuckled, looking to Liya who was slightly gazing down, "I did not find the highborn ladies as sophisticated as I find her. She's a challenge that I wish to unravel."

"This is with consent, is it not?" the King's gaze turned to the red-haired beauty.

Liya forced herself to smile, slightly nodding, "Of course, moi tsar. Even if I was surprised to hear such an offering from him, I would be a fool not to accept it."

"I must say," the King hummed, "that you could've made a wonderful court lady if you didn't wish to be a soldier."

Liya gulped, the King's desire was straightforward and anywhere near shameful. If Aleksander hadn't been beside her, she would be on the edge of breaking down, because the King's heartbeat almost placed images in her head and they—weren't pretty.

"I may not be one for the battlefield, but I do want to work towards figuring it all out about Grisha. I believe there are many things that are unravelled yet and if we could, the war wouldn't have a future for much more," Liya answered.

The Darkling chuckled. She was good at dodging the King's desire and speaking like a true diplomat. The King never indulged in such conversations since he couldn't really reply to diplomatic remarks.

"Very well," the King cheered. "We can't be in the way of young love, now can we, Tatiana?"

"No," she plastered an even faker smile. "Apparently not."

"Well," the King reached for a little cake that was placed near him on a silver tray, "on the other matters now. We'll proceed with the celebration for the newly appointed General Pavel. Any news?"

The Darkling tried not to show disapproval of the celebration: "I have received the affirmations from all of the delegations that they will be arriving."

"Splendid!" The King beamed with joy. "I'm sure that by celebrating, we will ensure that he will be on our side."

"Given the nature of General Zlatan, and the fact that the newly appointed General seems to be revengeful – we shouldn't put our hopes high," the Darkling reminded.

The older man hummed: "I'm sure you'll fix it."

The Darkling nodded, feeling how rage was already starting to overwhelm him. It was so hard not to just murder him for all of this time. He couldn't understand how each King became a bigger idiot than the last one.

"Of course, moi tsar."

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"THE CELEBRATION that the King has thought of is hilarious," Liya shook her head, her hands gripping the wooden table right before her.

"He wants to show off in all of his glory," Aleksander was displeased about the King's choice to have the celebration for General Pavel, but he was far better at being disappointed with the King's decisions all the time. "He believes that showing how wealthy he is, can get people to trust him."

"Can it not? Wealth rules everything," Liya disagreed.

Aleksander smiled, looking at her from a little distance: "Wealth only works if you know how to use it, my dearest Grisha. If you show it off – people will try to steal it. If you use it on others – people will want to be on your side. But you can never be too generous."

The woman hummed. She really couldn't argue about this with him – she didn't even know how long he has been roaming this Earth. "Not going to argue with you on this one. Diplomacy is a virtue."

He moved closer to her, facing her – he just couldn't stop smiling while looking at her, seeing her in his office, in his chambers. "I believe I do have some experience."

Liya turned around and hummed: "But inviting delegates from all the countries is a bit far-fetched."

"I'll make sure that no Grisha will be taken. This place will be surrounded by guards and no outsiders will be permitted to get into the Little Palace," he assured her, looking to the side where she was standing, clearly distressed since now everything was coming closer and closer. "The King thinks that delegations mean safety, but we cannot know how far General Pavel can go."

"Would General Pavel kill someone in a celebration meant for him?" Liya wondered.

"If we're to assume that Pavel is here to claim his title as a General – then no. But if he's in it just for the revenge – then yes."

Liya hummed and then turned to the direction of his voice: "Are you aware that the Queen is madly in love with you?"

Aleksander couldn't help but chuckle. He gently shook his head, looking at his Grisha: "I am aware. That amuses me, really." He moved closer, "Why, do I sense jealousy?"

Liya scrunched her eyebrows as if this was an insult: "Do not get over yourself, Darkling."

"I prefer when you call me by my name."

"I don't really care about what you prefer and what you don't."

Aleksander sucked in a breath – someone was feisty. It felt good to have her here. Even if the shadow of his betrayal will always linger around them, the memory fresh and painful, he was glad she was at least here on her own wish. He understood she will never fully forgive him, but he didn't expect her to. He could live with the shadow he has cast on her for the end of his days if only she would stay near him.

"I should go," she spoke up before he could say a word. "It is dinner time and—"

"And I know you're not going there. Do not search for reasons to get away from me."

Liya shook her head slightly, "You are insufferable, Darkling."

"Aleksander," he, once again, corrected her.

"Darkling," she didn't back down and he smiled. And the smile was childish, foolish—he doesn't remember the last time he has smiled like that. Must have been decades, or even more, centuries. It was easy to smile around her when she had that blissful youth surrounding her. She was a child in her own heart, grown up too early, just like he was. "Are you smiling?" She woke him up from his thoughts.

The man came closer to her, within the reach of her hand and stood still, "Why don't you find out yourself?"

Liya froze and slightly shook her head, "I do know what people look like, General."

"That's not what I'm asking you."

The woman felt as if naked in front of him. Even if she was the one to be able to read his heart, he did very well on reading hers without having the necessary powers. Was she that transparent? She hesitated, taking a step back: "I have never done that before—it feels a bit too—intimate..."

Aleksander beamed with joy, "I won't bite."

Her face dropped and it made him smile even more. "What is it with all of your demands? Getting back, courting and now—now touching your face!"

"As much as I recall, I'm still your General."

"So you're well with being called the Darkling?"

"Not by you, no."

"Why?" She tilted her head.

"Not many people know my real name. Almost no one knows who am I. It feels—relieving to hear someone call me by my real name."

Liya took a step closer, "Do you like your name?"

"It's who I am. Even if I have many names," he answered, truthfully. But not wanting to dwell on his past for too long, he changed the topic: "What did Genya tell you about courting?"

She clearly didn't expect that question, so there was surprise written all over her face. She extended her hands back, reaching the table and she moved backwards, leaning on it with her thighs. "She wasn't very pleased. You know—you're not her favourite person," she answered truthfully, not feeling the need to lie to him. "But she admitted that this could be the best outcome."

Taking his place beside her, he inquired: "And what do you think?"

"I don't have another choice, do I? It's lesser evil, this one."

"I'll take that as a compliment," he cheekily replied.

Liya rolled her eyes, shaking her head. Without saying anything, she stood up and turned to face him, extending her hand, she placed it on his chest, moving a little bit up so it could give her a better access to his heart. It was beating a bit faster, but still steadily. The thuds of his heartbeat surrounded her and lulled her. She did this for reassurance. For reassurance that he's being truthful. And she was thankful that he didn't say anything, that he didn't make any remarks, that he didn't move an inch. He just let her feel.

After a few moments—she doesn't know how long she just stood like that, he gently placed his hand on her and softly moved it up, to his neck. Her breath got stuck inside of her throat with the surprise and she could feel herself flush. His hand stopped when she reached his jawline and he let go of her hand.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped closer, feeling his kefta against hers and she moved her hand up his cheek, feeling hair against her fingers. Moving up, feeling his cheekbones, she trailed to the side, gently touching his nose and then the other cheekbone. She could hear his heartbeat jump, but she didn't know if this wasn't just hers.

But she continued. Moving up, she gently touched his closed eyes, feeling the slight fluttering of of his eyelashes. A soft smile crept on her lips as she moved her hand up, gently feeling the strand of his hair that was fallen on his forehead—soft, long hair. But at the end, with her index finger, she moved down to his nose, to the tip of his nose and down, feeling his lips.

It felt as if everything stopped. The softness of his lips against her fingertip made her slightly dizzy, she closed her eyes from the temptation, but she gently moved past them, feeling his warm breath against her fingers and she retreated her hand from him.

"Since you know who I am, I wanted you to feel me," he admitted, his voice silent.

She had no words to describe this experience – her fingertips were burning and her heart was overbeating with desire. Everything was dizzy, she didn't know where was for a few seconds and what she had just done—but it felt too good, too intimate. She wanted to say so many things, she wanted to do so many things, but she knew she couldn't.

His hand suddenly was on her waist and he pulled her closer, burying his nose in her braided hair. He closed his eyes for a second, wishing that he could just hold her and never let go. He planted a kiss on the top of her head, feeling her go limp in his arms. "You're making it so hard for me to be respectful, Liya," he whispered. "So hard to be selfless... I'm selfish, Liya. I'm horribly selfish. But I'll wait for you to come around and I won't live with the idea that you won't... Because I promise to you, truthfully," he leaned to her ear, "I'm holding on a thread. And I don't know how long it will take until I'll have you in any way possible."

The grand clock beside the door was ticking in the silence. Then, it marked the sign of reality. That their existence was real. Now, it marked a rhythm. A rhythm where they were still there, in each other's arms.

thank you so much for all of the support and the wait on the chapter! i wish to hear your thoughts on this one as this book is slowly coming to an end