A Bad Sharer

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TᕼE ᖇᕼYTᕼᗰ Oᖴ the horses' hooves stop

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TE ᖇᕼYTᕼᗰ O the horses' hooves stop. I peak out of the window to find that we are finally home. The Darkling helps me into a sitting position and I squeak in pain. As soon as we step out of the carriage, Aleksander calls for a Healer. A red and grey kefta emerges quickly and whisks me away to be tended to. Aleksander is pulled in the other direction to see to his own wound.

The infirmary is cold and sterile with dim lights illuminating the empty beds. The white ceiling is all I see for what seems like hours while all of my injuries are taken care of. My rib is fused together, the green and blue bruises are healed, my black eyes from the blow to my head are fixed, the cut to my throat is mended, and I am cleaned of the dried blood on my face, hair, and neck.

After the fact, I am assisted back to my room to rest, where I find the Darkling waiting for me. Initally when I arrived at the palace, the dark theme to the bedroom seemed dreary, but now I welcome the darkness. The silk bed has never looked more inviting. I plop on it fully clothed and the Darkling chuckles as he walks over to me. My body retains a dull ache where the unbearable pain used to exist, but Healers cannot fix the mental fatigue that I am drowning in. I am worried about war that will be fueled by King Grimjer's death. After everything that has transpired, I just want to curl up and close my eyes to the world.

Aleksander removes my shoes and pulls the blankets up to my shoulders. He rounds the bed and slips in beside me, pulling my body close to his. Although sleep is becoming eminent, there are still questions that remain unanswered. I look up at Aleksander and he raises his eyebrows. "Ask away. I can tell you have questions."

"I do," I confirm. "I know you would never really surrender Ravka. Why did you say that you would when King Grimjer demanded it?"

"I have been suspecting Grimjer's rebellion for a while now, but I never thought it would extend to you. I told Grimjer what he wanted to hear so that I could prolong your life. I hoped that if I hesitated to kneel to him, he would get impatient and harm me. He may be a political force to reckon with, but his actions are predictable."

"You... wanted him to hurt you?" I ask dumbfounded. "Why?"

His lips curve into a smirk. I am starting to get angry. He knows something that I do not. Aleksander explains further, "Morozova's amplifiers are affected by emotion. I relied on you having some reaction to me being harmed, although I did not expect quite the amount of power to be shown. You never fail to surprise me."

I stare at him with my mouth hanging open. "So you knew that I would react that way? That is why you played along with Grimjer's absurd demands? You expected me to let my power free?"

"Precisely."

I shove his chest and grumble, "I hate you."

"I thought you loved me?"

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