A year after Alina Starkov tears down the Shadow Fold, she is finally able to settle into her peaceful life. There is no more war with Ravka. The Darkling, once her enemy, is now a loyal, protective husband, and a father to their adoptive daughter...
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ᗯᕼEᑎ I ᗯᗩKE ᑌᑭ, Amelia is cuddled under my arm, her head resting in the crook of my neck. There is a divot where Aleksander slept last night. I doubt he stayed for very long. Just long enough to appease me before he continues with his idiotic plan of making more nichevo'ya.
I feel Amelia shift and stretch her arms. Her large ocean-blue eyes open. She smiles up at me. I return the smile and say, "Good morning, zolottse <sweetheart>."
"Morning." She sighs and wiggles closer to me under the covers. Then, she freezes and reaches for her neck. Her eyes grow wide. "Where's my necklace?" she asks.
I rub my eyes tiredly. "Did it fall off before you went to bed?"
"No, I had it when I went to sleep. I know it!"
I sit up, intending to look for it, thinking that it might have fallen off in her sleep, but then the fogginess of just waking up lifts. I glance unhappily at the divot in the mattress beside me. Her necklace isn't the only thing that is gone.
"Your father took your necklace," I huff, too exhausted to sugarcoat it this morning.
"Oh," she says in a voice lacking intone, certainly not as upset as I thought she might be. "That's okay. I decided that I didn't want it anyways." Her gaze lowers to the place where the Stag rests on my collarbone. She reaches out and traces the rough skin and intruding bone there. "Amplifiers only cause ruin."
I stare at her with wide eyes. Then I realize that those are not her words. Amelia has been training more with Baghra lately. Those are the words of an ancient mother who has watched her child be consumed with greed and obsession over Morozova's amplifiers.
I run my thumb over the Sea Whip's bone that encompasses my wrist. Baghra taught Amelia well. Amplifiers are barbaric. I thought otherwise once when I touched the Stag and felt the connection blossom between us. But three amplifiers later—two slain animals and a dead first love—I see now that amplifiers are destruction. They are ruination.
I dismiss the dark thoughts and reply, "You are strong with or without an amplifier, Amelia." Whatever Morozova wanted to happen, whatever power he wanted to force on her was, we'll never know, and I'm perfectly content not knowing. If Amelia is happy, so am I. We embrace in a tight hug.
After a moment, I lift Amelia out of the tall bed. She begins her daily routine of raking through her matted curls while I put on my black and gold kefta. As I stare at the kefta in the mirror, I think about how my kefta's meaning has changed throughout the years. It feels like an eternity ago that I wore my blue Summoner's kefta. Back then, I was so proud to sport the Darkling's color. That is until he made it feel like wearing a dog collar tagged with his name on it. Why am I starting to get that same feeling again?
