𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 | 𝐒𝐨𝐂

𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍.

xix: no mourners, no funerals

Snow aggregated on the windowsills and opaline heels stomped down delightful flowers, spitting petals on the white floor. Alessia's boots crushed patterns into the snow; Natasha Van Doren gripped tightly onto her sleeve. "Are we there yet?" Natasha moaned, her teeth chattering.

They had trekked for forty-five minutes. They paused for water and to tighten the laces of their snow boots. "Around the veer," Alessia said through gritted teeth, trying her best not to lose her temper.

Before Natasha could comfortably navigate through all of Ketterdam's tantrums, identifying when to coax and contend, slink out sight and eavesdrop - now she was a moaning mess - aggravating Alessia Ivanov to colossal heights.

Arriving thirty minutes later, Alessia unclasped the heavy cloak, sprinkling snow off her shoulders. "You can take it off. You're safe here," The Crow Club was the only casino and bar open during the wintertime holidays - menageries and brothels shut due to the horrendous weather restrictions.

Kaz Brekker's investment two years ago obeyed him well. The building was well insulated and stolen furnaces kept the industry honest. Alessia held a supervised hand on her gun, struggling her way through the crowd, keeping Natasha close to her side.

The girl followed cluelessly as men drunkenly harmonised Christmas carols, beer bottles in their hands and their concentration thickened on their poker counters. "Don't take mind," Alessia puffed into Natasha's ear. "They're drunk as donkeys,"

Van Doren managed an embarrassed laugh, following Alessia down an evacuated passage. "We call this the liver," Alessia said, guiding Natasha into a padlocked room. Inside was an infirmary bed and a bolted medicine cabinet - anatomy posters and the periodic table were stapled to the wall. The vacancy was routinely cleansed with bleach causing the scent to prickle horribly. "It's the sickbay,"

"Why the liver?" Natasha asked with a shrivelled nose.

Alessia chuckled, locking the door securely behind her. "It's easier to remember. Per Haskell's office is named the brain. Kaz Brekker's is the heart. The isolated room is called the kidneys, and the dumpster outside is what we named the lungs. It's silly - I know, but it works around here,"

Natasha nodded, turning up the stairs. "Up there are the sleeping quarters - it's pretty self-explanatory," The queen regarded as Alessia murmured commands into a young girl's ear, watching her slip one foot out of the window and turn away into the night. "That's Amanda - a spy,"

"You guys are spies?" Natasha questioned, her brow furrowed. Presuming that what Nina had told her was true, Natasha was once one of them. She rejected to surmise she was like Kaz Brekker - the heart of the operation, nothing more than an assassin.

The Shu shut a door behind her, shrugging. "Mutates. Some come here for lodgings and return with a dagger in their side," She reassured Natasha with a hand behind her back. "Everyone here is under Per Haskell's charge. However, a petite selection belongs to Kaz Brekker,"

"I assume that I once belonged to him," Natasha scoffed at the word belonged - as if she was someone secondary and worth objectifying.

Alessia's expression prevailed maintained. She envisioned a severer reaction. "Follow me. I'll show you the kitchen. Nina and Jesper will be there," Natasha hesitated on the steps for another moment before following in Alessia's step.

"Look who's here," Alessia smirked, engulfed in the arms of Nina Zenic. The Ravkan pulverised Alessia against her bosom before holding her at arm's length. "I've missed you, Liss,"

"Move aside, you're going to suffocate her," Jesper Fahey grinned, holding Alessia just as snug as Nina. "You look just as enchanting as I remember," The three of them simultaneously turned to Natasha - standing ghostly in the doorframe.