Chapter Text
It wasn’t so strange a wish, wanting to have a child born out of love. But for Neyar, giving birth was an impossibility, and it was through her own making.
You see, Neyar’s first husband had been horrid and she did not want to have any child of his.
When Neyar had married him, she did not yet know of her life expectancy, and so did not hesitate to purposefully wound herself in a staged accident, the result of which that she could not bear any child forevermore.
Her first husband had been angry but then he had his mistresses to see to his heirs. And Neyar’s infertility made sure he did not visit as much.
But now Ohval was married to Jon, sweet and cunning Jon. And he had expressed a wish to fill their lovely house with a child’s laughter, secretly hoping their child could keep his wife company when he passed on, and keep her loneliness at bay.
Not one to give up even when a guilty Ohval said it was impossible, Jon suggested they adopt a child. But they should choose a child who would be smart and open-minded to the fact that their future parents would be a former criminal and a Grisha.
And so, they went to visit all the orphanages. That was the plan, until they came to Kamdra, located along the Ravkan border.
It was there that a sickly little girl of mixed parentage caught Neyar’s eye. Was it the sharp look in her eye or the way she had a hidden knife in her sleeve? Or perhaps that she truly looked like she could be their daughter, given that Jon was also Ravkan-born.
“Who is she?” she asked the matron.
The woman sniffed. “Oh, that’s Lina. She just came in after the Ravkans took back Dva Stolba from us. Can barely speak elementary Shu. She’s a feisty one, likes to steal scraps from the kitchen.”
Alina had sealed Jun’s approval from the moment he heard the Shu word for steal. “I’d like to meet her.”
The matron nodded, having already noted his Ravkan features.
So the matron went over and brought Lina to them. The child looked at them warily, with little hope that they could want a sickly girl like her, but when she saw Jon’s irresistible smile and his Ravkan features, a bit of hope entered her eyes and she grudgingly smiled back.
“What is your name child?” Jon asked softly. He glanced at the matron, “Your Ravkan name.”
“Alina Starkov.“
Jon’s smile widened. “Well, Alina, I’m Jon Saran. And this is my wife Ohval. How would you like to come and live with us? We stay just outside Bhez Ju so we have a mix of both the city life and the countryside. What do you think?”
Alina’s smile became toothy. “It sounds perfect.”
“Shall we shake on it?” Jon offered her his hand.
Alina straightened her spine and tried to look businesslike. She shook hands with Jon. Then readily took Ohval’s callused palm next.
Ohval’s eyes widened in surprise for a moment before her own welcoming smile turned a bit softer. “Welcome to our family, Alina.”