Chapter 24: Try

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𝕬 knock at the door draws our attention, and Tamar pokes her head in, "One of the servants wants to know if you'll be sleeping in the Darkling's chambers."

I raise an eyebrow at Alina in question.

She rubs her hands over her face and heaves herself out of the chair, "You should take it."

Knowing that this is probably for the best, I nod, "Tell the servant that I will take his quarters. I want Alina, Mal, Tolya, and you in the guards' rooms; no one else for now. Thank you, Tamar."

Once Tamar and Tolya enter and shut the doors behind them, I sigh and stand, "Would you come take a look with me? I don't know if I want to enter alone."

Everyone smiles sadly, and my twin says, "Of course."

The quarters I shared with the Darkling quarters are just down the hall from the war room. A charcoal-clad servant offers to lead us but I politely decline, already knowing where to go. I wander into the large and rather formal common room furnished with a long table and a few uncomfortable-looking chairs. Each wall is set with a pair of double doors.

"These lead to a passage that will take you out of the Little Palace," I explain, gesturing to the right. Then I point to the doors on the left and say, "Those lead to the guards' quarters."

The doors directly across from us need no explanation. They stretch from floor to ceiling, and their ebony wood is carved with the Darkling's symbol, the sun in eclipse.

I don't feel quite ready to face that, so I amble over to the guards' quarters and waltz inside. Their common room is considerably cozier. It has a round table for playing cards, and several overstuffed chairs are set around a small tile oven for keeping warm in the winter. Through another door, I glimpse rows of bunk beds.

"I guess the Darkling had more guards," Tamar observes.

"He had a lot more," I reply. "We should consider bringing on some others, once the trusted make themselves known."

"Maybe we should consider drawing from the pilgrims," suggests Tamar. "Some of them are former military. There must be a few good fighters among them, and they'd certainly lay down their lives for you."

"Potentially, but it would be smarter to avoid doing so unless necessary," I reply. "The King would hear one whispered 'Sankta Alina' or 'Sankta Svetlana' and have our necks in nooses."

My twin nods, "Besides, I'm not sure I want to put my life in the hands of someone who thinks we can rise from the dead."

"We'll make do," says Mal.

I return to the main common room and address the servant hovering in the doorway, "We'll eat here tonight. We will need five trays."

The servant bows and scurries off after a quick, "Da, moya soverenaya."

I stare at the ebony doors. The handles are two thin slivers of crescent moon made of what looks like bone. A part of me doesn't want to enter. Although it is basically already my room, I never would have expected to be living in it without Aleksander.

Alina makes her way to my side, "Do you want to go in together?"

That offer is all that it takes. So I take hold of the handles and pull. There is no creak or scrape of hinges, the doors slide open without a sound.

A servant had lit the lamps in the Darkling's chamber. I survey the room and let out a long breath. Nothing has changed. The chamber is hexagonal, its dark wood walls carved into the illusion of a forest crowded with slender trees. Above the huge canopied bed, the domed ceiling is wrought in smooth black obsidian and spangled with chips of mother-of-pearl laid out in constellations. It is an unusual room and certainly luxurious, but it still feels like home.

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