Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo (z-lib.org).mobi

kiss was a secret that the Darkling and I shared, and I wanted it to stay that way.
All the same, some days it took everything in me not to stand up in the middle of
breakfast and shout, “The Darkling kissed me!”
If Baghra was disappointed in me, it was nothing compared to my
disappointment in myself. As hard as I pushed, my limitations were becoming
obvious. At the end of every lesson, I kept hearing the Darkling say, “It’s not
enough,” and I knew he was right. He wanted to destroy the very fabric of the
Fold, to turn back the black tide of the Unsea, and I simply wasn’t strong enough
to manage that. I’d read enough to understand that this was the way of things.
All Grisha had limits to their power, even the Darkling. But he’d said I was
going to change the world, and it was hard to accept that I might not be up to the
task.
The Darkling had vanished, but the Apparat seemed to be everywhere. He
lurked in hallways and by the path to the lake. I thought he might be trying to
trap me alone again, but I didn’t want to listen to him rant about faith and
suffering. I was careful never to let him catch me by myself.
On the day of the winter fete, I was excused from my classes, but I went to see
Botkin anyway. I was too anxious about my part in the demonstration and the
prospect of seeing the Darkling again to just sit in my room. Being around the
other Grisha didn’t help. Marie and Nadia talked constantly about their new silk
kefta and what jewels they intended to wear, and David and the other Fabrikators
kept accosting me to talk over the details of the demonstration. So I avoided the
domed hall and went out to the training rooms by the stables.
Botkin put me through my paces and made me drill using my mirrors. Without
them, I was still pretty helpless against him. But with my gloves on, I could
almost hold my own. Or so I thought. When the lesson was over, Botkin
admitted that he’d been pulling his punches.
“Should not hit girl in face when she is going to party,” he said with a shrug.
“Botkin will be fairer tomorrow.”
I groaned at the prospect.
I had a quick dinner in the domed hall and then, before anyone could corner
me, I hurried up to my room, already thinking of my beautiful sunken bath. The
banya was fun, but I’d had my share of communal bathing in the army, and
privacy was still a novelty to me.
When I’d had a long, luxurious soak, I sat down by the windows to dry my
hair and watch night fall over the lake. Soon, the lamps lining the long drive to
the palace would be lit as nobles arrived in their lavish coaches, each more
ornate than the last. I felt a prickle of excitement. A few months ago, I would
have dreaded a night like this: a performance, playing dress-up with hundreds of