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

touch went that peculiar sense of certainty that had possessed me. The radiant
light disappeared, leaving ordinary candlelight in its place, but I could still feel
the warm and inexplicable glow of sunshine on my skin.
My legs gave way and the Darkling caught me up against his body with one
surprisingly strong arm.
“I guess you only look like a mouse,” he whispered in my ear, and then
beckoned to one of his personal guard. “Take her,” he said, handing me over to
the oprichnik who reached out his arm to support me. I felt myself flush at the
indignity of being handed over like a sack of potatoes, but I was too shaky and
confused to protest. Blood was running down my arm from the cut the Darkling
had given me.
“Ivan!” shouted the Darkling. A tall Heartrender rushed from the dais to the
Darkling’s side. “Get her to my coach. I want her surrounded by an armed guard
at all times. Take her to the Little Palace and stop for nothing.” Ivan nodded.
“And bring a Healer to see to her wounds.”
“Wait!” I protested, but the Darkling was already turning away. I clutched at
his arm, ignoring the gasp that rose from the Grisha onlookers. “There’s been
some kind of mistake. I don’t … I’m not …” My voice trailed off as the
Darkling turned slowly to me, his slate eyes drifting to where my hand gripped
his sleeve. I let go, but I wasn’t giving up that easily. “I’m not what you think I
am,” I whispered desperately.
The Darkling stepped closer to me and spoke, his voice so low that only I
could hear, “I doubt you have any idea what you are.” Then he nodded to Ivan.
“Go!”
The Darkling turned his back on me and walked swiftly towards the raised
dais, where he was swarmed by advisers and ministers, all talking loudly and
rapidly.
Ivan grabbed me roughly by the arm. “Come on.”
“Ivan,” called the Darkling, “mind your tone. She is Grisha now.”
Ivan reddened slightly and gave a small bow, but his grip on my arm didn’t
slacken as he pulled me down the aisle.
“You have to listen to me,” I gasped as I struggled to keep up with his long
strides. “I’m not Grisha. I’m a mapmaker. I’m not even a very good mapmaker.”
Ivan ignored me.
I looked back over my shoulder, searching the crowd. Mal was arguing with
the captain from the sand skiff. As if he felt my eyes on him, he looked up and
met my gaze. I could see my own panic and confusion mirrored in his white
face. I wanted to cry out to him, to run to him, but the next moment he was gone,
swallowed up by the crowd.