[ alina shows no such horror. rather, her gaze probes nina like fingers digging into a wound. does she trust this reaction? nina is a spy. she could invent whatever reaction she wanted. alina's pulse ticks up. she's out of her depth. she's so out of her depth.

after too long in silence, alina nods. she accepts the answer. it's uncanny, really. the way that her stoicness bears shadows of kirigan himself. like, absent anyone else to model her reservations off of, she has inherited from him that eldritch calm which he had cultivated over centuries. ]

Hopefully the King finds a better way to stop West Ravka from seceding. [ that's all she says. ] He may tolerate our presence, but he already sees us as monsters and weapons. It's no wonder which tools he would use if he decided to prove a point.

[ she had realized at the winter fete that if she was not a jewel in his crown then she was a weapon in his hand. perhaps the war could be won with diplomacy. but alina's presence seems to have terrified the worst out of everyone. she averts her gaze to the ground. ]

If things escalate further, I'm afraid it will be my fault.