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Intellectually Alina knows she will eventually meet Baghra again. Aleksander has not imprisoned his mother, despite her betrayal. He has said as much to her. He warned her, in a way.
Of course, Alina would prefer the meeting to happen in some far-off future, going on never. Unfortunately, she rarely gets what she wants.
Even so, she does not expect to run into the old woman the moment she leaves Aleksander’s office. It has to be some cruel joke of fate – Baghra never leaves her hut!
She barely has the time to consider turning on her heel and hiding in the office for a while longer when their eyes meet across the suspiciously empty hallway.
Baghra’s expression of sheer outraged shock is a sight to behold – Alina would just rather there be a physical barrier between them. Like a solid wall. Or the Fold. The Fold would do nicely.
Baghra strolls up to Alina, her cane thumping loudly on the ground with every step. Alina prepares to be murdered with it.
“What are you doing here? Did he see you?” Baghra demands, hitting Alina’s shins with the cane. Alina flinches away from her. That’s going to bruise.
“Yes, he saw me.”
“I told you to run, you foolish girl! Did you not understand the danger you’re in?”
Alina takes a breath and tries to push the headache and her cramping stomach to the back of her mind. They are now joined by a dull pain in her shins and honestly, Alina is getting sick of Baghra. It’s the only thing the running has achieved. Making her feel miserable.
She doesn’t know what to tell her either. Why was she back? Well, why wouldn’t she? It’s not like she would be welcome anywhere else.
“I’m hungry,” she says instead and feels incredibly stupid. Still, she pushes through it. “If you’ll excuse me-”
Baghra sticks out her cane, blocking Alina’s escape. She’s scowling deeper than Alina has ever seen her.
“You must leave,” she insists. “Or was I not clear enough about Aleksander’s intentions before? He intends to enslave you, girl, no matter what pretty lies he told you!”
Alina has no intention of running from the Little Palace again. Not now and probably not ever. She likes it here, thank you very much.
“Are you listening?” Baghra demands and grabs her wrist with her free hand. Alina flinches and steps away, trying to tug her hand free.
“Come,” Baghra orders and starts pulling her along. It takes Alina a few steps before her brain catches up with the situation and she digs her heels in.
“No,” she says loudly and frees her hand with a strong pull. She straightens up – as much as her stomach allows her to. “I am not leaving.”
“Of course, you’re leaving,” Baghra huffs and reaches for her again. Alina steps back and glares at the old woman.
“Stop being foolish, girl. He’s just using you, like all the girls before you.”
“Have you sent those running away too?” Alina snips back. “No wonder he never talks about you.”
Baghra swings at her with her cane again, but Alina steps out of reach. If she’s not careful she’ll run out of space to retreat to soon.
“You’re nothing to him, just means to an end,” Baghra spits, advancing on her. “Just a toy to play with and use until you become useless.”
Alina scowls and wonders how anyone can hate their child this much. “Are you quite finished?”
“No.” Baghra grabs the sleeve of her kefta. “I don’t think you realize just how dangerous he really is. He is the Black Heretic, you stupid girl. He created the Fold.”
“On accident-”
Baghra rolls her eyes and tries to drag Alina away. “He always says that.”
"Have you considered it might be the truth?” Alina snaps at her and wrenches her hand away again. This is quickly becoming less and less awkward and more and more infuriating.
The laugh that leaves Baghra’s mouth is full of derision and mocking and it echoes down the hall. “Of course, it’s not. I know him, girl. It was no accident.”
Before Alina can formulate a proper response – or just push past the old woman – the door behind her opens and the Darkling steps out – he must have heard the commotion. He takes in the scene before him. Glancing between them, Alina can really see the family resemblance in the way they scowl and glare at each other.
“Girl, run,” Baghra tells her. Alina doesn’t even try to stop the snort.
“Aside from the fact that I don’t want to,” she says dryly, “I really don’t think that would work very well.”
Baghra and Aleksander’s lips both twitch – Baghra’s in fury and Aleksander’s in amusement. Alina steps closer to Aleksander; a halfhearted attempt to hide behind him that she abandons halfway through.
“You have already failed to convince her to run twice, mother. Don’t try it again,” Aleksander warns her. He has said he wouldn’t imprison his mother, but looking at him now, Alina wonders if that’s a word he’s capable of keeping.
Baghra isn’t willing to back down quite yet, apparently, because she steps closer again. “I will not let you enslave her. You will not corrupt her either.”
He quirks an eyebrow, unimpressed. “It might just be too late for that.”
Baghra levels her son with a look so cold it may as well be aimed at her most hated enemy. Aleksander doesn’t even twitch. Instead, he reaches out towards Alina. She takes his hand and lets herself be pulled closer. She relaxes into his side as he leads her around fuming Baghra.
She steps away before they enter the more often used hallways, opting to simply walk by his side. There is absolutely no need to fuel the rumor mill any more than strictly necessary.