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CHAPTER NINE ▪▫▪▫▪
THE FIRST TIME SHE HAD crossed the Fold, Kira nearly died—which wasn't particularly unusual for someone who was mad enough to attempt the crossing.
It was nearly certain death. And over the years Kira realized perhaps that's why she was on that skiff.
Grisha came to the palace, a few days early, a private meeting had been arranged, away from prying ears and eyes. The princess was to be tested.
What Kira hadn't realized back then was simple. They weren't testing if she was Grisha, they were testing if she was a Lantsov. Pure. Not stained by the little freak shows of Small Science. No Grisha could be on the throne. Or in line for it.
So, when nine-year-old Kira had let out a yelp as they nicked her arm, she had made the silver chain around the tester's neck tighten; nearly in a chokehold. Her eyes had widened in horror and she had focused on taking deep breaths. The tester was fine, not even a bruise.
The King and Queen, though, were looking at their daughter like she had grown a second head. Kira had to stand there under their scrutiny and watch as her mother began to weep. Not of joy. Not of pride. But of terror.
They weren't afraid of her. Not entirely. They were afraid of what it would mean for Kira to be what she was. Especially with the heavy rumors going around of illegitimate children in the Lantsov house. Kira was born after Nikolai, and if he was rumored not to be a true Lantsov, that meant that the same option went for her. Not that Nikolai ever let anyone say anything to her. Always shielding Kira away from the ruthless court of Os Alta.
Nikolai wasn't there for the testing, though. Kira had to shield herself from the looks on her parents' faces and no less than a week after she was on a skiff across the Fold.
A peace offering to West Ravka; trusting them with a Lantsov heir. That was their excuse. A political move to bring the divided country together. A bunch of bullshit was what it was.
If Kira hadn't died in the Fold she would surely be assassinated on the other side, by people who wanted the Lantsovs off the throne of Ravka. All because she would've been left alone.
But Faina Kira did die in the Fold. She fought her way off Ravka and only stopped in Ketterdam. Where Kira, just Kira, the Whisperer of the Barrel was born. From ashes of her past and the blood of the present.
And now she was dumbly staring at the darkness ahead, rumbles of the Fold giving her goosebumps. She had run away from the Fold only to come back reluctantly but willingly. Stupidly too.
She felt metal press against her back, tugging her forward, and glanced back to see Kaz, not looking at her but putting his cane back on the ground as the Conductor urged them forward.
