-Chapter 2-
Ivan folded his hands on top of his desk, recomposing himself. "Admirable. You have managed to keep this little secret of yours for a very long time, but how do I know you are not lying?"
"You don't."
"Mm, I see. You are very beautiful. A sight any man would like to see, perhaps take advantage of. What do you think would happen if I accidentally let this knowledge slip?"
"Every time." Amelia sighed and slumped back into her seat, a bored expression on her face. "I'm disappointed, Ruski. I thought you would be different. What is it with you people and threatening? Every single man I've told always looks for the first threat they can find. Where is that gentleman façade? I kinda liked it."
"I will not pass a chance of insurance when I can get it so easily."
"Alright, alright, you win. But do you really think anyone would believe you? Alfred Jones, the Kingdom of America's most valued military leader, a girl? Nuh-uh, not happening. Hell, even I wouldn't believe that."
"Da, I will admit, you are right. But a little convincing is all it takes." Ivan waved the subject away. It was not important. "You said your brothers were incapable of taking the throne. What thrown, may I ask?" He had a suspicion, but it was pretty far-fetched. However, if he was right, his lovely company was worth a lot more than she let on.
"The throne, you commie."
Just as I thought. "We are no longer a communist kingdom," Ivan said idly, choosing not to dwell on the insult.
He pursed his lips in thought. The woman in front of him was obviously important, supposedly someone who would soon be a ruler (although, Ivan doubted her reign would be accepted), freely giving information to an enemy who was known for the hate he harbored towards her kingdom. If that were the case, Ivan could not have been any luckier. He could easily capture her, easily use her as bait against the one man he wanted to kill more than anything in the world. In fact, it all seemed too easy. Almost as if she was playing into his trap. Ivan decided it would be best to know more before doing anything that would have permanent consequences. She could be lying, he reasoned, despite the impossibility of learning the time and place of their meeting, which was only told to Alfred F. Jones, impersonating a man, and sneaking into his manor without anyone realizing.
A simple question would probably be the best start to figuring out the motive. "Why are you telling me this?"
"That's not your concern. We set up our little meeting to negotiate."
Ivan noticed she did not look him in the eyes when she avoided the question. He opened a cabinet beneath his desk, pulling out a small stack of papers. "Very well. Here are the Kingdom of Russia's negotiable options for ending this petty war." He slid them across the desk and into Amelia's waiting hands.
She rifled through them quickly, muttering to herself and shaking her hand. When she seemed satisfied, she neatly placed them back in order, bluntly stated, "Fuck no," and crossed her arms stubbornly.
Ivan feigned a look of innocence. "Really? So quick to deny. I thought our requests were perfectly reasonable."
"Bullshit," Amelia slammed her hands down. "What the fuck is this? You want to do everything but annex us! Do you realize thi—" suddenly, she straightened her back, and smiled faintly at the audacity of the ingenious Russian before her. "Ooooh, oh. You sly bastard." Then she scowled.
"That was quicker than I thought," Ivan chuckled. "For a girl."
Amelia snarled. "Shut up. Shut the hell up. Don't you care for the lives of everyone fighting? They're dying. And you give me a list of impossible 'requests' so that we'll say no, and you can get all the bloodshed you want. Because you knew I'd say no, girl or not, and that's a declaration of all-out war, right? God, I hope you die alone and in pain, you stupid ass mother fucking piece of sh—"
"You have a very dirty mouth. I am resisting the urge to wash it with soap myself." Ivan interrupted. He smiled, but it looked more like a twisted smirk. It was about as sincere as a con man. "Well! I presume our meeting is done, then? I will see you again on the battlefield? Right next to your king?"
The next words that left her mouth made Ivan's eyes widen with surprise.
"Maybe, maybe not. If he lives until then."
"You question the abilities of your king?"
"I'm gonna tell you a secret Ivan Braginski." Amelia smiled a smile that so feral it could match his. "I'm not here for the reasons you think. We have a lot more in common than you know."
A knock echoed in the room, forcing him to halt the words that were about to be let out.
Amelia, the stupid, stupid girl, took it upon herself to call, "Come in," with a tone much sweeter than the one she was using not five seconds before.
The boy from earlier, Toris, hurriedly stepped inside, careful not to go any farther than he had to. "M-mrs. Jones," he said.
He knows, then?
"His majesty has sent a message. It seems Mr. Matthew is in need of your assistance. King Atlan requests you return immediately."
"Gotcha, thanks, Toris."
Amelia's grin had turned from threatening to endearingly friendly. Ivan took note of that fact that her rigid posture relaxed and her eyes softened. Now was the perfect time keep her from leaving, however...forceful the means. "So soon?" he asked. "What a pity. If you do not mind, child, please leave us. We will be done soon."
Toris looked at Amelia, doing as Ivan told him after she nodded.
"I would like you to stay."
"No can do, big guy." Amelia shook her head. "Duty calls." she shifted in her chair, and for the first time Ivan noticed the outline of what was presumably a knife beneath her dress.
"Nyet, I must insist. I would like you to stay. It would be a shame to mar that pretty face of yours. Please do not make it harder than need be. Do not leave your seat." he warned.
By now, Amelia was fully aware of his intentions. A ball of fear formed in the pit of her stomach, spreading throughout her body and threatening to render her useless. It was quickly repressed. Don't you dare panic, Jones. You knew this would happen. C'mon, get out!
She raised an eyebrow, fighting to keep her voice even and face impassive. If this is what it would come down to, so be it. "Look, it's been real great. But I really gotta scaddadle."
Without warning, she scrambled up and dove for the doorknob with a remarkable amount of speed, but it wasn't enough. Ivan's reflexes were far past normal. In less in than a second, he had crossed the relatively big office and, with two large hands, grabbed Amelia by the waist, flinging her back with enough strength to make her crash into the desk. A gasp left her lips when her back collided with the solid wood. The middle of her spine was hit first. Like a wave, her head, legs, and arms followed. She felt to the ground, coughing violently.
Ivan didn't waste any time on getting a firm hold again. He reached for a fistful of wheat-colored hair and yanked, hard. Amelia yelped, clawing at arms that refused to budge. She was flipped stomach down. Ivan straddled her and immobilized her shaking hands by pressing them painfully against the carpeted floor. He did not realize her foot was kicking up until it was digging into his the soft flesh covering his back. The suspiciously sharp top piece of the heel of her shoe ripped through layers of clothing and left an ugly gash. Ivan was put off-balance, a result of the force, and Amelia was able to twist her torso enough to withdraw her body. Her strength was astounding.
Both stood.
"Don't underestimate the power of heels, Braginski." Amelia spat, haphazardly swiping at her mouth to remove the dribbling trail of blood. The act only caused the crimson liquid to smudge. He responded with a cruel smile.
Why did he look so smug? Oh. Now she was scared. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. A problem presented itself: a bulking Russian was in the way of her escape, standing firmly between her and the door. The urge to sprint towards it with all she had was tempting. But that would be foolish.
The knife strapped to her thigh reminded her of its presence when she felt the cool metal handle press against her leg. Immediately, she whipped it out.
Without thinking, she took two steps and jabbed at Ivan's unprotected abdomen. It entered about an inch before he grabbed her wrist and pulled it back. He didn't even wince at the pain.
Her knife clattered to the ground when he squeezed hard enough to break her wrist. The fist of Ivan's other hand rammed into her stomach.
Amelia's lungs contracted, leaving her breathless and crumpled on the floor.
"You fight without strategy. Just as I expected." Ivan growled, his grasp on her wrist was sturdy, and he twisted it until a crack sounded in the air.
Amelia screamed. "You fucker!" Tears blurred her vision. But giving up now was admitting defeat. Faster than Ivan would have thought, she outstretched the fingers of her free hand and snatched the forgotten knife.
Ivan hissed when it was stabbed into his leg.
It was in that positioned that they stayed, because the door was opened suddenly, and Amelia was faced with the image of long platinum blonde hair topped with a bow, a dark purple dress, a white waist apron, black stockings, and mary janes. What caught Amelia's attention, though, was the terrifyingly murderous face that changed beautiful features.
"What have you done…" the girl spoke. She whipped out a large, intimidating knife, eyes fixed on the American.
Those four words, filled with so many wrong intentions and promise for hurt, made Amelia realize that, while she did not yet know what she had done, it was bad. When Ivan's body started trembling, another alarm was set off.
"Oh, shit."
A/N: This took longer than expected, but whatever, that's what weekends are for, right? Anyway, hope you liked it, dear reader! Please review to let me know!