Welcome to this roller coaster ride of a fic! I've finally hit the final stretch of the first draft, so it's more or less completely written. It's currently clocked in at 100k words, though I anticipate that number fluctuating wildly before the entire story finishes getting idea of a "what if Dimitri didn't take the job at St. Vladimir's?" fic came to me during class one night, so I pulled up a Google doc and wrote three thousand words before my professor let us go for the evening. I'm excited to share this with everyone!
A few notes: The plot and various reveals have already been figured our and written, so if something doesn't make sense or seems unexplained, hang tight — all will be learned in due time. (And if we get to the end and something still doesn't make sense, call me out then.) All Russian written is my own translation/transliteration, so if you speak the language better than I, feel free to correct any mistakes; this applies to any details on the culture, too. The story begins in late August 2014, and all ages, birthdays, and assorted other time references are based on facts stated by Richelle Mead on her Twitter. Updates will be posted every Sunday night unless otherwise noted.
With all else taken care of . . .
The cafe was already busy when Rose arrived, her guardian uniform loose from a night of patrolling the Court's perimeter. She pulled her ponytail out as she surveyed the crowd and ran her fingers through her hair to push some life back into it after being held back for so long. The breakfast rush was in full swing, Moroi chattering away over coffee and small meals, their guardians pressed mostly to the sides and nearly invisible to the unknown eye in their street clothes. Rose knew she stood out in her black slacks and jacket, but nobody seemed to be paying attention. At least, nobody was until a voice rang out above the din, calling her name.
"Rose!"
Immediately, her eyes found Adrian Ivashkov, longtime friend and temporary charge. His waving her over was enthusiastic but she could see the bags under his eyes betraying his late night. She flashed him a smile and began weaving through the tables to get to him.
"Your wife know you were up to no good last night?" she asked, and his grin in reply was lazy. "How late were you even out anyway?"
"The sun was still up if it matters to you, Guardian Hathaway," he said, avoiding her first question.
"I'm off duty," she growled. She stole his menu, searching for the largest meal the place offered. It wasn't her normal post-shift breakfast spot — there was a buffet diner closer to guardian headquarters where she more than likely ran into at least half a dozen other guardians she knew — but her stomach was complaining that she hadn't eaten in nearly eight hours.
"The special's got eggs and starch," Adrian offered.
Rose flipped the menu over. It still sounded small but she could swing through the buffet after she parted ways with Adrian. Eddie Castile was always working the overnight this part of the week and she hadn't seen him in a few days.
"Thanks." A server showed up, eyes darting between Rose and Adrian curiously. "Two coffees and a special," she said to the server, handing the menu off without looking away from Adrian.
"Long shift?" he asked, tone soft and genuinely concerned despite the knowing smirk on his face.
"Tedious," she replied. She sat back and finally addressed the newspaper sitting in front of him. "Anything good?"
Adrian laughed and picked it up, tossing it to her. "Not much. Speculation on this year's Coronation Day festivities. Lissa's putting together a task force to look into dhampir population numbers, which I think she mentioned a few weeks ago. Someone was up late; Jesse Zeklos got escorted from my party not even—" He flicked his wrist and pretended to check a watch that wasn't there. "—Three hours ago? And it's on page four."
"Doesn't sound like much is right," Rose said, scanning the front page headlines — QUEEN TO INVESTIGATE LOW GUARDIAN POPULATION blared across the top in bold font, a photo of Lissa at her last press conference neatly situated next to the story — and murmured a thanks when her coffee arrived. "I'd be curious to see what the results of that turn out to be," she said with a tap of her thumb on the top headline.
"What, you don't have any ideas? You're a dhampir yourself," Adrian said.
Rose bit the inside of her cheek, staring at the photo for a second longer before handing the paper back. "From my perspective, guardian male numbers are doing alright — those have always been steady and high. Male dhampirs are more likely to become guardians who, in turn, last a long time in the field. Our society expects them to put in the work. You lose the female dhampirs in the communes."
"And to blood whoreism."
Her eyes flashed as she stirred far too much sugar into her coffee. "In a nutshell, yes. I did some research on it when I was with Lissa at Lehigh as a side project. Had a couple of interesting conversations with my mom about it once we rebuilt some of our relationship. It was something I was comfortable talk to her about when I was twenty."
Adrian nodded with a sip of his juice, grimacing when the liquid hit his stomach. It was clear to Rose that he was crossing the threshold into fully hungover as they sat there. A quick nap wouldn't have done much for him. His eyes, bright as they were normally, were beginning the glaze over, bleariness setting in.
"Anyway, we lose a lot of girls when they reach novice age. They're fourteen when they become novices and when you come from a commune, that's the age when their families start to pressure them into the idea of settling down and having kids. A lot of dhampir girls who come from those kinds of families feel a sense of duty to their mothers and grandmothers to start working children into their life plan. At least, that's what I've heard. I'm inclined to agree with it, though."
"So what you're saying is your mother being almost completely absent from your life until you graduated is the reason you've graced the world with your badass fighting skills and uncanny ability to get yourself into ridiculous situations requiring spontaneous road trips to New Orleans, for one very unspecific example?" Adrian asked, smirk back in place.
Rose rolled her eyes. "You could make that argument, yes. I prefer to think I became a guardian for Lissa."
"How is she, anyway?" Adrian asked.
"Fine." Rose shrugged. "I haven't seen her much since graduation in May. Maybe once a week. She's been shifting her personal detail around to make room for me without booting out anyone else who deserves to be there and I've been picking up shift work as I can when I'm not with your wonderful self. I'm in a weird limbo right now."
"And the bond?"
"It's there." Her mouth twisted, memories from the other night surfacing.
She knew whatever her face showed, it wasn't hidden from Adrian. "Is that why you've been working mostly daylight shifts?"
"There are just some parts of Christian that I don't want to ever see again," she said, exaggerating a shudder. Adrian threw his head back in a laugh as food was put down in front of Rose. It was still as small as she'd assumed — damn Moroi and their tiny appetites for normal food — and she made a decision to go get a second breakfast after she left Adrian. She began shoveling eggs into her mouth like she was about to get dragged off by a pack of Strigoi. "Speaking of New Orleans, how's Sydney?" Rose asked after she remembered to swallow her mouthful of food.
"Great," Adrian said, his smirk softening into a lovesick smile. "I've got a Skype date with her when we're done here. She managed to get some time off to go visit Carly and her mom."
"You didn't go with her?" Rose asked. Her eyebrows were raised as she drained off her first cup of coffee.
Adrian shook his head. "Nah, Tanner's her escort, which is becoming a completely useless concept. She has a lot of freedom ever since whatever deal she struck with Stanton has finished going through. I don't think Mikhail's even in the same town as her." He sighed, a heavy, weary shudder pushing up and out from the depths of his lungs. "I figured after everything she went through, she could use some space. I miss her to death, but I can see it's been good for her. A lot of the spark is back in her eyes."
"That's good," Rose said. "I get that. I'm happy for you guys, by the way. I don't remember if I mentioned it."
"You have, many times, but it's nice to hear every so often," Adrian said. They fell silent; he let her finish most of her food, tapping on his phone as he pointlessly checked his social media feeds. "You off to bed after this?"
"Yeah." Rose put down her fork and set in on the second cup of coffee. "I've got another overnight later. And the day after that, and the day after that. . . ."
"Well, if you can tear yourself away from sleeping the day away, you should come over for dinner some night this week. You are my guardian after all, but more importantly, I miss your company terribly." He mockingly clutched his heart, his eyes dancing with mirth.
"I don't know, you seem pretty able to handle yourself." She popped the last bit of toast into her mouth and smiled. "Besides, I'm in a pretty committed relationship with my bed. It might get jealous if I leave it longer than usual."
"Be sure to bring it flowers and chocolates when you get home afterwards. In all seriousness, though, you've been pretty boring since Lissa got her degree. All you've been doing the past four months is working. I can't even remember the last time we got drunk."
"It was back in May, at your graduation after-party, the one Sydney completely disapproved of but relented to for reasons still unknown to the rest of us," she said automatically, attention suddenly diverted to the two figures standing outside the cafe, peering in. One was a guardian, his red collar giving away his status as one of the Queen's; the other, a Moroi, looked like a messenger type. Royal business.
"See, that's just lame. You're twenty-two, Rose, you deserve to be having fun."
"I'll have fun when I don't have Strigoi to worry about," Rose said, though her distraction kept any malice out of her voice that may've been there. The two strangers entered the cafe and were headed towards the back where she sat with Adrian.
"Sydney has more fun than you, and she doesn't even believe in alcohol," Adrian said and his smile fell as he finally noticed Rose's changed expression. "Rose, what's wrong?"
The messenger stopped next to Adrian. Rose felt herself draw up to attention. "Guardian Hathaway, you've been summoned by the Queen. She wishes to speak with you immediately."
"Is she in trouble?" Rose demanded, already standing and buttoning her jacket.
"No, this is all about you."
Rose nodded and squeezed Adrian's shoulder as she stepped around the table. "I'll call you later."
"Sure. Let me know what's up when you get done."
"I will." She dropped a parting kiss to his cheek. "Thanks for breakfast."
"Always, Hathaway."
The messenger cleared his throat and Rose straightened up. "Right, sorry, let's go." She glanced at the guardian — she didn't know his name — and followed the messenger out of the cafe and across Court to the administrative buildings. He led her to a boardroom, opened the door, and then left.
She stepped in, greeted by the entirety of the Royal Council, several members of the Guardian Council, and Hans Croft, the Court guardian captain, his gray hair betraying a recent, neat trim. Lissa sat at the head of the table on the opposite side of the room. The door clicked shut behind her and conversation ceased as a dozen and half or so heads turned to look at her.
"Welcome, Guardian Hathaway. You're not in trouble, I promise," Lissa said, voice warm but all business.
"Then what's going on?" Rose asked. Her gaze flicked across the room before coming to rest on the TV projecting a set of numbers behind her. She pointed to it. "What's—?"
"Those are the last ten years of guardian graduation totals," Hans said. "Have a seat, Rose."
Fighting her internal battle on standing like her instincts were saying over listening to Hans, she awkwardly sat down in the swivel chair across from Lissa, all the way at the other end of the long table. Hans was to her immediate left; the seat to the right was empty, separating her from Princess Drozdov.
"Is this about your task force to investigate guardian numbers?" Rose guessed, annoyed from both being bombarded like this and that she didn't notice Lissa sending for her across the bond. She poked at it; a soft barricade was in place. Her best friend looked like she was concentrating hard, which answered Rose's question on that. Lissa wasn't the one who usually put up a block. What was she hiding?
"It is," Lissa said. "You're the task force."
That stopped Rose short. "What do you mean, 'I'm the task force'? Your Majesty," she tacked on hastily when someone gave a conspicuous cough. It'd been four years and Rose was still unaccustomed to Lissa's elected status.
"The Queen has proposed a project to which the Council has given a majority favorable vote on," Princess Badica said, voice cool and slippery.
"The only way to know for sure why our numbers are the way they are is to get in on the ground level and learn exactly how we end up with less than half of all dhampirs as guardians." Rose couldn't help but feel Lissa's infectious confidence seep into her, tired as she was. "Dhampir births are at an all-time high, yet guardian numbers are the lowest they've been in centuries. We — I — can't move forward on any kind of program to get dhampir girls to become guardians if we don't know how we lose them between entering and leaving school."
Rose's eyes slid to the left to see how Hans was reacting. Rarely were dhampirs ever consulted on issues pertaining to them. Status quo saw the Council passing laws directly affecting dhampirs without warning or their input. Getting any kind of opinion from the Guardian Council was rare. The age decree several years ago that Lissa was still working to reverse was the latest in a long line of unrepresented legal interferences on dhampir life. This was seemed like the first step in her attempts at repairing Moroi-dhampir relations.
"I'm still confused," Rose said finally, after Hans gave nothing away.
"Lissa shared with us what she received her degree in at Lehigh," Princess Badica said as if it explained it.
Eyebrows knit together in confusion, Rose turned to Lissa, who was smiling. "Remember junior year, when you were complaining about your methods classes, about how needing to know that stuff was pointless? And how I told you to pay attention anyway because it may be useful later down the road?"
"Yes," Rose said slowly. "I'm still not getting what's going on."
"Once I told them what we majored in — anthropology — it was a fairly unanimous decision that you should be the one to carry out the project," Lissa said.
"I'm a guardian. Your guardian, technically. I should be here, with you." Rose felt like she was floundering. Where was Lissa about to send her?
"As you always will be," Lissa said. "I need you to do something else in the short term." A folder with the Dragomir crest emblazoned on the front was slid to Rose by Hans. Lissa continued: "I've identified one of our larger dhampir communes where the correlation between dhampir births and guardian graduation rates steeps negatively. I'm asking you to go find out why. You'll be staying with a family that's been living in the town since before the Russian Revolution."
"Russian Revolution?" Rose echoed, incredulous disbelief creeping in. Lissa's lips were evened out and she nodded to the folder, which Rose promptly tore open. One of the visible papers had a printout of a town.
Baia, Novosibirsk Oblast.
The name was in Cyrillic letters just underneath along with a small screenshot of Google Maps.
"This is in Siberia," Rose said, feeling stupid for pointing out the obvious.
All Lissa did was nod. Rose's growing urge to get up and storm out hit a swell. No way was she doing this. She was a guardian above all else, dedicated to staying by Lissa's side until the day she died. Majoring in anthropology had only been because that'd been Lissa's choice and Rose's obligation to duty said she had to study what Lissa did to stay by her side. Sure, some of the subject matter had be interesting and Rose could see why Lissa had wanted to study it — a basic understanding of how to appreciate and understand people with differing viewpoints and life experiences was necessary for a good Queen — but at no point had Rose ever intended to use her degree for anything in life after she graduated. She'd only gone to college because Lissa had.
What Lissa was asking, though — go live with a family in a town somewhere on the other side of the world to answer a pretty broad, complicated question — was exactly what her classes had taught her how to do. And Rose knew that Lissa knew this, too.
"I don't speak Russian," Rose said, as though that alone would make Lissa pick someone else.
"You'll be put in intensive language training beginning today for the next month," said Hans, finally jumping in. "We'll rearrange your shifts to accommodate you preparing for this trip."
"How long am I going to be over there?" Rose didn't flip through the papers. She didn't want to. This was the last thing she wanted to do. A pack of hungry Strigoi was preferable to this. At least a hungry pack of Strigoi was something Rose felt confident in handling.
"A year. Thirteen months, to be exact." Hans was being supportively neutral in this, which was frustrating as hell to Rose. Some small part of her wanted to argue that if nobody else supported this, she wouldn't be forced to the other side of the world for a ridiculously long time. "The youngest daughter in the family is beginning her final year at St. Basil's next week. You won't see her a lot, but what time you do get with her will be valuable. She'll have insights as the year unfolds that her older sisters won't or might have forgotten. There's a son, too, so you can draw comparisons within the same family to make inferences on the whole."
"I know what I need to do," Rose snapped, her nerves wearing thin from exhaustion. Shit. Should've kept my mouth shut. It sounded like she was accepting the job; several Moroi began packing up their things as a result. One slipped an identical folder in his briefcase and excused himself before Rose could find the words to speak again. "I don't have a choice in this?"
Lissa's expression and thoughts gave nothing away, the block still in place, though Rose could sense that some of her exhaustion was probably what she was siphoning off Lissa.
"I think we're done here for the day," Lissa said to those gathered, not looking at Rose. Stay after? Lissa asked across the bond and Rose nodded, fingers toying with the edge of the folder. It was a few minutes until both Councils and the Moroi's respective guardians filed out, off to do whatever royals did on a daily basis. Go to the spa. Count their money. Laugh at non-royals. Rose wasn't sure.
Only Hans stayed behind. Lissa came up, her own folder in hand, and took the empty chair to Rose's right.
"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," Lissa offered, voice soothing. Rose checked the bond in the off chance Lissa was slipping a bit of healing into the conversation. She was relieved to find it clear of magic. "But you were the first to come to mind. You spent four years learning how to do exactly what I need done. I figured you might eventually come around once you realized that you could contribute to helping guardian numbers."
Duty to your people was essentially what Lissa was saying and Rose heard it loud and clear. She frowned. Lissa knew her almost too well sometimes. As much as Rose felt compelled to stay, to be near Lissa's side and serve as her guardian, a sense of duty to the dhampir community as a whole tugged at Rose. She'd never been the type to want to play the hero — being Lissa's guardian had always been good enough, senior year antics aside — but the idea of playing a major role in increasing guardian numbers was tempting.
Part of her wanted to be mad at her best friend for playing her like this, but Rose was tired enough to begin questioning her second breakfast plans.
"Who's the family?" she asked tiredly, sidestepping an outright admitting of defeat.
"The Belikovs." Lissa's jade green eyes twinkled and Rose could feel excitement leak through the bond.
"That's—" Rose gaped, a hit of adrenaline surging through her, forcing her into a sudden a loss for words. "Like Dimitri Belikov, the Belikovs?"
"The same ones," Lissa said with a knowing smile. "They're anxious to be part of this project, despite the face that they don't know the details of what you'll be working on."
"The man's a legend. A god, really. Lissa," Rose breathed, still hung up on the first part.
"I know, Rose."
"He took on three Strigoi at once and lived to tell the tale."
"I know, Rose."
"His trial score was so high, it shattered the current record and nobody's ever come close to matching it."
"You were pretty close, actually," Hans interjected.
Rose started. "Really? I mean, I know I was top of my class, but . . . really?" Trial scores were usually airtight secrets outside of the graduating class to avoid inflating egos and imposing a hierarchy of who was a better guardian. The one exception to the rule had been Dimitri Belikov, who'd scored so high that someone deemed it worthy enough to leak, and nobody had seemed bothered because it was so shocking.
Hans nodded. "You would've been closer had you not lost time calming down your Moroi, but it was still up there. Alberta was mildly shocked when she sent me your class's scores."
Rose made an approving face and looked down at the two short stacks of paper barely held together in the folder. "What are the odds I'll meet him?"
"Slim," Lissa said. "He's—where is he, Hans?"
"St. Basil's, general security. He doesn't go home often, opts to stay at the school on breaks. He's been there the past few years after—"
"After his charge died," Rose finished. "That was huge news when it broke."
"I remember you and Eddie talked about nothing else for two weeks straight," Lissa said.
Rose shrugged. "It was a big deal." She fell silent, still looking at the papers. The idea of meeting his family, living with them, getting to know them pretty intimately was momentarily overwhelming. "You said a month of Russian?" she asked Hans, who nodded in reply.
"Four hours every day, Monday through Saturday," he said. "Better to suffer through a month of this than fumbling your way around the language when you get there."
"I have a counselor set up to come talk to you about culture shock and homesickness and all that once a week so you can start working on making the transition," Lissa said. "Pack however much you want. All your bags will be paid to fly over with you. Olena, the mother, said you're welcome to bring as much as you want. We'll work out a schedule for who and when you submit your reports. A comprehensive report upon your return will be required."
"You'll be paid the standard eighty hours per paycheck," Hans added. "With the nature of the project, you'll technically be on the clock the whole time you're there, but you won't be actively gathering information all day every day. There's a breakdown of your allocated funds, pay periods, and monthly budget in the packet on the left. Standard field procedures and rules apply, even though this kind of assignment has never really been done before."
Rose's head was beginning to hurt and her limbs felt weary. She was supposed to have been asleep by now. "Alright," she said, not able to coherently say much else. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. "This isn't more punishment for the . . . you-know-who thing, is it? Because I did my time for that."
Hans looked like he was trying very hard not to look in Lissa's direction, much to Rose's surprise. He wasn't supposed to be privy to the accidental murder of Victor Dashkov. That was a secret between less than half a dozen people, and Hans was not one of them, as far as Lissa had promised.
"No, it's not," Lissa said, gaze not wavering from Rose's. "You did your time for what happened. This has nothing to do with that."
"I know this is a lot," Hans said apologetically. "Get some sleep, read over the information we've given you.
Lissa leaned forward and grabbed one of Rose's hands. "This is not for that other thing. I promise. We can chat again some time later this week. Maybe at Adrian's?"
"You're going?" Rose asked excitedly, grateful for the change in conversation, and Lissa nodded. Rose let Lissa's happiness bleed through the bond. "Good. I haven't really seen you in a while."
"I know. If someone told me adulthood would be this busy, I would've opted out a while ago." Despite her friend's joking, Rose could see Lissa was thriving. She was so much brighter now than she ever had been during high school. Being Queen suited her.
"Tell me about it," Rose replied and her laugh turned into a yawn.
"Go get some sleep," Lissa said. "We'll catch up later."
Rose nodded and took that as her cue, closing and tucking the folder under her arm as she she stood. She glanced back at the door to bade goodbye and saw Lissa had taken her vacated chair and was in sudden, deep conversation with Hans.
Even though Rose left with a small smile on her face, something like dread took hold in the pit of her stomach, second breakfast completely forgotten about.
CODE OF ETHICS AND STANDARD GUARDIAN FIELD PRACTICES, VERSION FOUR
ADOPTED 31 JANUARY 1925
LAST REVISED 14 JANUARY 2013
[ . . . ]
SECTION III — Personal Conduct
[ . . . ]
K. Sexual Relationships — Consensual (rev. 2011)
i. In the interest of the Moroi in which they are protecting, guardians are to refrain from entering sexual relationships with other guardians or their Moroi charge. In the event that a complaint is lodged regarding this kind of behavior, suitable and appropriate disciplinary action will be taken after a thorough investigation. Sexual relationships have been found to significantly draw from a guardian's attention in the course of their duty.
ii. Relationships of a romantic nature are classified here for the same reason. Romantic relationships between two guardians or a guardian and their Moroi charge are expressly forbidden without prior approval from the Guardian Council. Approval will be given if the guardian(s) can prove that the relationship will not in any way hinder the guardian from devoting their whole self and attention to their duty of protecting their Moroi charge (s).
[ . . . ]
SECTION XIV — Addendums
A. They Come First (rev. 1947)
i. Guardians are to be reminded of the oath to which they swore loyalty upon receiving their promise mark. It is by this governing principle that all guardians should conduct their personal and professional lives. Without full compliance by guardians, the entirety Moroi safety is compromised. Any lapse in judgment that compromises Moroi safety will be dealt with by the harshest appropriate measures as determined by an internal investigation.
[ . . . ]
NEXT ANTICIPATED REVISION, JANUARY 2015
"How do you say . . ." Glass of soda in hand, Adrian leaned against the counter next to Sydney, who stood at the stove stirring pasta. His arms were crossed over his chest, fingers gripping the rim of the glass under his arm.
"How do you ask to say something?" Sydney asked for her husband, tucking her short, dirty blonde hair behind her ear as she looked at Rose over her shoulder.
Rose narrowed her eyes, trying to recall the hours of Russian that had been drilled into her head over the past five weeks. She shifted forward in her chair at the breakfast bar, spinning her wine glass by the stem on the counter. After half a minute of grasping for an answer, she gave up. "I have no idea," she said and took a sip of wine.
"Kak po-ruskii," Sydney supplied. "Literally 'how in Russian'?"
Rose swallowed, mouthing the words over to herself as moscato ran down her throat.
"What about 'excuse me'?" Sydney prompted as the doorbell rang.
"I'll get that," Adrian offered, setting his glass down and kissing Sydney on the temple before disappearing.
"That I definitely don't remember," Rose said.
"Izvinite," Sydney replied.
Rose groaned, head dropping to the black marble counter. "This is going to be a disaster."
"What is?" Christian asked as he and Lissa walked in, her guardians for the evening sliding in along the back wall. Rose returned Lissa's one-armed hug and reached for a wine glass and the bottle.
"Apparently I learned nothing in my Russian crash course this past month," Rose said. She slid the newly poured glass to Lissa. "No offense, Lissa, but that guy sucked."
Lissa laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure it's all his fault, never mind that he's a native speaker."
"It's just stage fright," Sydney said, stepping away from the stove and letting Christian take over, who immediately pulled the pasta off to drain. "When I was posted in St. Petersburg, my first dozen or so interactions with locals were a nightmare. Eventually you pick up on it."
"Thanks," Rose drawled. "That's really comforting."
The doorbell rang and Adrian disappeared again.
"Have you ever been out of the country before?" Sydney asked with a sip of water.
"Yeah, a few times, when I was younger. I'd spend a week somewhere in Europe with my mom on breaks, but that was, like, twice, when I was seven. Nothing like this."
"Nah, Rose, you got this," Eddie said loudly as he entered, a vibrant Jill tucked under his arm. Mia and Adrian followed.
"Yeah, if there's anyone who can go be nosy as hell because Lissa asked them to, it's you," Christian said, rolling oil in a pan.
"Besides, this might be an opportunity to meet a guy," Mia said knowingly as she took the empty seat on Rose's other side and set down her own offering of wine, pulling her silky purple top away from her stomach as she settled on the chair. "You know, since no one here seems to be good enough for you."
Rose set her wine down and sat back, shaking her head. "No, I'm just going to work. Getting involved with anyone could compromise the integrity of the report and regardless, I'm not allowed. Besides," she added while ignoring Mia's eye roll and Jill's complementing whatever you say look, if only because Lissa was tense as a board next to her, "I'm still waiting for the right person. If I fall in love, then I fall in love. My main concern in life right now is being Lissa's guardian and being friends with everyone gathered in this room. Anything else is just icing on the cake of what I already have." Her eyes swept across everyone's disbelief. "I'm serious, you guys. Everyone here is all I need. Your happiness makes me happy."
"Well, I can toast to that," Adrian said, pulling Sydney closer to him and holding his soda in the air. "Actually, I wanted to say something, anyway, so that was a great transition. Thanks, Rose."
Rose raised her glass in response with a slightly exasperated smile.
"Give me a second," Christian said as he laid steaks out with satisfying sizzles on the oiled pan, Lissa and Mia finishing wine pouring for the group. He turned as he wiped his hands on a towel hanging from the oven door, and took a glass from Lissa. "You got seven minutes, Ivashkov."
"Thanks, man," Adrian joked with a good-natured eye roll. He turned back to Rose. "Little Dhampir. You are my third favorite person right after Sydney and myself, in that order." Soft laughter. "And as far as ex-girlfriends turned close best friends go, you are the only one that exists." More laughter as Rose looked down for a moment, blushing. "But I say that to make it clear how important you are to me so this way you know exactly how much I'm going to miss you. The next year is going to be very boring for me and cold for you because trust me, I've been to Russia. It's cold. Don't listen to the locals, their brains have frozen from years of Arctic exposure." Rose laughed at that, softly and to herself, and Adrian smiled in return. "And while I've tried to convince Lissa to send literally anyone else—"
"He has, multiple times," Lissa interjected.
"She insists Rose is the only person whose opinion she trusts, so I guess we're all doomed to a year without Rose, who I know is going to kick ass on this super secret mission that I know nothing about." And with that, Adrian nodded to no one in general, winked to Rose, and took a sip of soda, everyone following suit with their respective drinks.
"Thank you, Adrian. Really," Rose said, hands clasped over her heart. Christian turned back to the stove, hiding a smile of his own.
Adrian shrugged, turning his head awkwardly to look at Sydney next to him. "Touchy and feely are two companions I know well, thanks to this one."
Lissa sat up straighter, her already ramrod back tightening as she shifted to the edge of her barstool. "I'd like to say something, too, if I could?" Predictably, no one objected, which she took it as her cue. "I've gotten a lot of questions, from Rose especially, about why I asked her and I just wanted to clear the air and finally explain 'Why Rose'." She turned to Rose. "Yes, I'm going to miss you like crazy and yes, it will be impossible to go on without you living nearby as Christian was complaining the other night."
Christian graciously mocked a bow as he plated food, purposely bumping elbows with a grinning Eddie.
"But I chose you because as Adrian said, I trust no one else to get the information I've asked you to collect. I can't think of anyone as dedicated to her people and her position as you, Rose, and if there's anyone out there who can come up with a solution that works for everyone, it's you."
"No pressure, Liss," Rose quipped with a nervous smile. The bond was pretty quiet given the amount of emotion that should be pouring over from Lissa. There she went, hiding something from Rose. What really was going on with this assignment?
Lissa's own smile didn't falter. "Those are my reasons, as succinctly as I can get them. And Rose, I promise, when you get back, you will have a spot in my guardian detail. That should be worked out in the next few months."
"I'm holding you to that," Rose said, leaning over to give her best friend another hug. Behind her, Mia took a photo for her social media collage of Rose's Send-Off Dinner.
Christian addressed the group, arms in the air. "If the sentimentality is over for the moment, dinner is served."
"You okay?" Sydney asked over the din of the Frankfurt International Airport.
"Yeah," Rose lied as she stared off into space, her fingers twisting her nazar around her neck, a Christmas gift from her mother several years prior.
Sydney checked her cell phone. "We've got an hour until boarding. I'm going to get food."
"Get some for you, too," Rose replied robotically, her gaze fixed and unfocused on a giant potted tree sitting on the other side of the terminal.
Sydney left with a reassuring squeeze to Rose's shoulder.