Tempest and Tide [Nikolai Lantsov]

~ before ~

The smell of sweet freshly made tarts and warm honey wafts out the open kitchen window and into the small alley. A few feet away the girl strains to see through a small sliver of glass into the library. Her auburn braids barely peeking over the rim of the window as she rises even higher on her tiptoes.

They're here. Todays the day.

From her vantage point, the girl can only see the bottoms of their legs. Swaths of vibrant fabric in ruby and violet and sapphire shifting over the floor.

Another wave of sugary air wraps around her and the girl's stomach gives a low growl. Why did her parents have to banish her to the alley, why couldn't they have hidden her in the kitchen with Mirva their housekeeper? There at least she could have snuck all the strawberry pastries her little six-year-old heart desired.

A new set of feet enters her gaze and the girl lets out a shocked breath. Those are her favorite slippers and yet there they are on the imposters' feet. Just because Mirva's daughter is taking the examination for her doesn't mean that the other girl should get to wear her clothes. Well, not her favorite clothes.

The girls' calves ache from the strain of standing on her toes for so long. After another long second, she gives up, dropping back to the ground with a soft thunk. There's nothing interesting to see anyway. Just the Grisha examiners' boots and her favorite slippers on that other girl's feet.

She still doesn't understand why she has to stand out here. A test seems harmless enough. She's always been good at tests, but with her parents whispering late into the night about pacifists and treason and other words the girl doesn't understand she decided not to question them. Not when papa looked so worried when he told her to wait outside, or when Mama shed a tear at the mention of the Second Army.

"What are you doing?"

The voice is demanding, pulling her attention away from the sweet aroma of the kitchen. She spins so quickly that her braids slap against her cheek.

A red flush comes over her face at being caught skulking outside her own home. Most other nobles in Os Alta would never let their child run around the streets alone and she expects a berating. Instead, she's met with sparkling hazel eyes and windswept blond hair.

The boy can't be much older than her, but he stares at her intently, tilting his chin up with an air of confidence that the girl has never felt.

She wraps her scarf closer around her, trying to hide the guilty expression playing over her face.

"You're not spying are you?" The boy asks. Cool winter sun catching on the ends of his blond hair and making it shine like spun stands of gold.

"No!" The girl exclaims, shocked by the accusation.

'That's a shame, I adore spying. I always find out things that are much more riveting than what people would tell me."

The boy's grin only widens at the aghast expression on her face. He moves to stand beside her, his own coat brushing hers. He's just tall enough that he doesn't struggle to reach the window as she did and he leans his chin against the frame.

The girl studies him as the boy stares through the small window. He seems familiar, something about the curve of his face or the glint in his eyes. Maybe he's from one of the countless parties the girl has been to this year. The one's where she and the other noble children are paraded around like prized pets.

After a moment the boy looks back down at her, a superior smirk playing over his lips, "You know that this would be much more interesting if you could see more than their shoes."