Enchanted -N. Lantsov

Olysia found herself skipping out of the Grand Palace after learning the King had overslept. His advisor had canceled the morning session, and she had every intention to leave before he awoke, forcing her to deal with him all morning.

Olysia knew she should have been grateful the Darkling had trusted her with such an important task but she couldn't stand it. The disgusted looks with poorly disguised lust in their eyes she received from the general, advisors and the King himself were to make her skin crawl right off her bones.

She wasn't very useful anyways, they never listened to her, nor would they ever, even if she knew better than them. They were too prideful to listen to a teenage Grisha but that meant they were careless enough to let so much secret information slip. That is why the Darkling claims she is such a 'valuable asset'. Without her, he would have much less information regarding the war councils. It almost makes her feel ashamed how good she feels when he tells her he's proud of the information she gives him. Too scared of what might happen if the information she gives is less than desired.

Olysia has a strong reminder of what would happen if she didn't. He would have her play practice dummy for Ivan or any other heartless Heartender. It happened only once and she has an unhealable scar on her left wrist, a reminder of why she can never fail again.

Olysia is almost sure the only reason she's still at the meetings is because she's a pretty face that distracts them enough to forget why they must meet every week.

The most she has to deal with is unwanted persisting touches and crude comments, but better that than what she knows others are forced to deal with. It was one of many reasons she was glad for the colored kefta marking her as property of the Darkling and the Second Army instead of as a white uniform palace servant wear. The King would not so blatantly disrespect the order of things. That thought made Olysia feel guilty because she knows that privilege was not extended to all.

She made her way to the secret gardens and took the metal she nicked from the Fabrikator workshop from her pocket. When she finally arrived at the special hide away, she brought her hands together and began crafting a knife. She played around with it for a while, separating the metal and intertwining for a braided pattern. She meshed it together and created a long-thin like needle and then she crafted a normal knife with swirling engravings on it that mimicked the stitching on her own kefta.

"It always amazes me when you do that."

Olysia attempts to hold back a grin, knowing exactly who it was.

"What have I told you about compliments?"

"And what have I told you about accepting compliments from charming princes?"  Nikolai fell gracefully onto the same bench Olysia was on. "You have to agree with them or it hurts their feelings."