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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ᗷEᖴOᖇE TᕼE ᗪOOᖇS to our carriage even open, I hear the eardrum-rupturing squeal of an excited child. As soon as I step out, I am tackled to the ground and put into a restricting hug by Amelia. We both giggle gleefully. I hold her close to my body, and I never want to let go. For the first time in weeks, I am finally able to completely relax. She gasps in delight when she spots her father get out of the carriage, too. He raises an eyebrow at the two of us lying on the ground right before he is also charged at. Amelia jumps in his arms and wraps her limbs around him.
Aleksander chuckles. "What is this for?" he asks.
"I missed you, too," she mumbles into the slope of his neck.
He does not respond, but I see his arms squeeze tighter around Amelia before setting her down. Instead of a kefta, she is wearing a dark blue dress with a black sash tied in a bow at her waist. Coraline—who is watching us from the entry staircase with a smile—must have dressed her up after being informed of our arrival. It is a welcome change from her usual kefta.
We all approach Coraline and greet her warmly. "Coraline, thank you," I say, "for taking care of Amelia while we were. . . away."
"The pleasure is all mine," she smiles, then leans in and holds a concealing hand between Amelia's sight and her lips. Coraline whispers, "Though, you may have some glitter in some hidden places to find later. I cleaned most of it, but I am sure you will find it for years to come."
"That is alright," I chuckle.
I can tell Amelia is bursting at the seams to make something known. She is rocking on her heels. Furthermore, she puffs out her cheeks and holds her breath until she blurts out, "I have something to show you!"
She captures mine and her father's hand, tugging us through the large entryway and into the Grand Hall. We pass between the adjacent curved staircases and to the back of the palace where the Lantsov garden resides. After dragging us past shrubbery and frozen fountains, she finally lands at a patch of Agleamia flowers. They are a brown, dried-up color, and the petals are shriveled to a crisp, as they have been ever since winter breathed its nipping coldness into the air. Agleamia flowers only grow in hot conditions and have a luminous appearance when the weather reaches just the right temperature. Though we are nearing the end of winter, it is still too chilly outside to retain any life in the garden.
"You wanted to show us these dead flowers?" I question with an arched brow.
Amelia sits beside the flower patch on her knees and takes her delicate white gloves off. "Just wait!"
Her small hands hover over the Agleamias, and heavy concentration contorts her features. Then, Amelia brings her hands together and apart to form a ball of water. She summons a gust of wind to carry and disburse the water to the plant. The soil absorbs it, hydrating the flower's roots. Then, her hands come back together to summon fire. She shrouds the plant in heat with a flick of her wrist, and a ring of fire forms. My interest is peaked even more when the plant starts to perk up. After the stems have become a healthy green, the petals uncurl, revealing a new growth of spikey, velvety purple petals. They bloom as if it were the peak of summer. The Agleamia's royal purple flowers even start to shimmer, being at the right temperature with help from Amelia's summoning.
