[ Had the Darkling had it in him to scoff, he would. Instead, he leans over--he doesn't move his feet, but he leans down to her height, looking at her, dark eyes meeting hers. Alina's naive. Alina's an idiot, though he doesn't voice that out loud. Alina's young, is the problem. She's yet to live as long as him, she's yet to understand.

His voice is soft, pointed. Think, girl. ] I have no concern about or for otkazat’sya, so long as they don't interfere with us. [ The word comes easily to him for its duality in meaning: a non-grisha, or an orphan. A purposeful use for Alina, the little girl from Keramzin. He straightens. ]

I am not the tyrant you think I am. Not now. Not here.