~Dimitri~

The contestants were ghosts, a day later, hollow and silent while wandering around the palace—invisible yet noticeable. I'd never seen such a haunted group of girls, outside of the ones who'd been in Fairest of All with Sonya Karp. I'd hoped that would've never happened again, but unfortunately that dreadful road was being revisited.

She'd been seventeen at the time, as sweet and beautiful as a flower, always doing her chores and avoiding trouble. Until, she'd developed an illicit relationship with Guardian Mikhail Tanner. Queen Natasha had ordered Human Resources to erase her love for him, which they'd replaced with burning hatred. It'd shattered him beyond repair.

He'd tried to change Her Majesty's mind, but she'd refused to listen. It'd been even worse, when he'd sought out Sonya. His heart's desire had attempted to physically harm him and had been promptly sent home. What he'd done next had been just as, maybe even more, unbelievable. He'd resigned and chased after her.

Their tragic romance, plus the violence it'd ensued, had forever scarred that year's contestants. They'd been the old ghosts, the old wanderers. If I looked closely enough, they were still there, lurking beside the new. Shadows kissing shadows. Devastation embracing devastation. Whether they'd be laid to rest or not, I didn't know. However, I did know Mikhail had made a terrible mistake.

Putting himself first had ruined everyone and everything. Sonya would've been fine, had he left her alone. The remaining girls would've been less traumatized. He still would've had his job. Queen Natasha still would've trusted him. How could he have been so selfish and myopic? Loved and cared about someone so much, that nothing else had mattered anymore? It wasn't like Sonya would magically go back to normal and run into his arms. She'd hate him, until his last breath.

I guess he'd thought it was worth it—getting the key to another's heart, even if it was stolen and ended him up locked out and torn apart. He'd always have that memory to relive, that chance to say he was happy and complete. Yet that just felt like a waste. Why fall for a person who, ultimately, wasn't going to catch you? Why fall, when you were going to keep falling? When you were paralyzed, once you finally hit the ground?

Lunchtime fueled those relentless thoughts. I was in the staff dining area near the gym, filling my tray with a well-balanced meal: fruit, vegetables, nuts, and a sandwich. It wasn't crowded right now, and I was relieved. Being around large groups of people always made me anxious. There were too many movements. Too many sounds.

The palace had multiple cafeterias, each one designated for certain types of employees. For example, us guardians had ours by the training facilities because we were the most physically fit workers. It was a strategic and convenient arrangement. The rest of the Royal Court was set up in a similar way.

Hans, Alberta, and Arthur sat at a table toward the back. They were engrossed in some sort of conversation, and I wondered if interrupting them would be a good idea. Queen Natasha's offer had been swirling in my mind from the moment I woke up to the moment I went to sleep, ever since she'd told me about it. I still had time to decide. But the clock was ticking, and uncertainty was starting to eat me alive. I needed an outside opinion, yet I didn't want to be a bother. My colleagues had better things to do than get tangled in the web that was my love life.

"Dimitri." Arthur's voice made me freeze. "Come sit with us."

I gripped my tray so tightly, it was boggling how the object didn't break. I swallowed hard and breathed deeply, reciting numbers in my head before walking to their table. They seemed so far away. I tried to push forward, but I couldn't. It was as if cement was dragging me down. Perhaps I should've acted like I hadn't heard him.

Finally, I reached them. I stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say. It was so weird and stressful.

"Aren't you going to sit?" Hans asked, eyeing me expectantly.

"Hm? Oh, yeah." Why was my voice shaking? My voice didn't shake. It needed to stop shaking. "That's right." I lowered onto the bench and set down my tray, then played over my food and stayed silent. I hated when my social skills flew out the window—not that they were stellar, in the first place.

Alberta stared at me, worried. "Dimitri, what's wrong?"

Now that the opportunity to get guidance was here, I found myself struggling to ask for help. I'd always solved my own problems, or others' problems. The only time that hadn't been the case was when I'd told my former high school instructor, Galina Pokrovsky, about my father's abuse. And that had been thirteen years ago and extremely difficult to do. How would I be able to speak up a second time, when it'd been so long?

But my present issue wasn't about domestic violence. It was about a marriage proposal. People usually couldn't wait to share such news, so why was I hesitating? Why was I so nervous, when I should've been bursting with joy and excitement?

"Dimitri—"

"Queen Natasha asked me to be king." It came out more abruptly than I'd wanted, yet at least it was out there.

Hans blinked. "Wow. That sure is something." He sipped his water and cleared his throat. "I personally see no reason to decline. It's the best life anyone could ever wish for. No one tells you what to do, surviving isn't a dilemma, and you have anything and everything you want. Not to mention, she's very fond of you."

I nodded. "You're right." Power, fortune, and control had always been a fantasy of mine. I'd grown up without those things and had been envious of the ones who'd had them. They'd seemed to have it all, have it easy. Likewise, I'd been dealing with Her Majesty's affection for years. A few, or several, more was manageable. Yet at the same time, I'd seen how much those vices corrupted people. What if I ended up like that? What if my perfect dream became an absolute nightmare? And what if I couldn't return the Queen's feelings? I sighed and shrugged. "I don't know, though..."

"Well, you should still consider it," Arthur suggested. "Being king doesn't require happiness. I know it's sad, but it's the truth. Plenty of world leaders aren't satisfied with their jobs, and they have that job for years. You can too."

Alberta held up a hand. "Now, hold on a minute. Dimitri shouldn't subject himself to misery. Ruling a country takes a lot, and not being in love would make the situation worse. Or vice versa. He should desire both of those things with Her Majesty." She turned to me, compassionate yet serious. "What matters more to you, in the end? Happiness or duty?"

"That's a loaded question," Hans said before I could even gather my thoughts, frowning. "How the hell is someone supposed to answer that? You can't just ask something with that kind of phrasing."

"Are you kidding me?" She copied his expression. "It's not impossible to respond to. How is Dimitri going to figure out what he wants, if he doesn't feel compelled to?"

"So, we're forcing him to choose? We're not trying to make this about him?"

"Don't you twist my words, Croft. You know damn well—"

"Enough!" They both stopped, ashamed. "Neither of you are helping me. I'm just as, if not more, unsure of what to do." I grabbed two fistfuls of my hair. Why was this so difficult? Why couldn't I just say yes or no? I shouldn't have asked for their opinions...

"We're sorry," Alberta apologized. Hans nodded along. She glared at the people who were staring at us, then placed a hand on my back after they looked away. "Did you tell your family about the offer?"

I shook my head. "No." I wanted to wait until I decided, rather than get their hopes up. "I'd really like to, but it's not the right time." No one talked for a while, and I was able to calm down and clear my head.

Once I fully recuperated, Arthur broke the silence. "Let's try a different tactic. All we've done is tell Dimitri what we think. But we haven't heard what he thinks." He clasped his hands on the table, engaged and considerate. "Tell us, Belikov. Do you like the idea of being king? Of serving this nation and doing what's best?"

I answered immediately. "Yes." If I was king, I could try to negotiate with Her Majesty about eliminating Fairest of All. I could save lives and keep innocents from getting hurt. I could redeem myself for every, horrible thing I'd tolerated and done.

"Do you like Queen Natasha?"

"As a friend." The three furrowed their brows, tilting their heads to the side. I understood their confusion and doubt. I'd been by Her Majesty's side and in her bed, for a long time, yet somehow hadn't fallen in love with her. None of that made sense. One would assume I'd at least dream of us having a committed relationship. But that hadn't happened, until she'd proposed to me. She was just a companion, a companion who was coincidentally my lover and beautiful.

Hans narrowed his eyes. "Do you think you can grow to love her?"

"Maybe." No one seemed satisfied with that, and I didn't blame them. Love couldn't be called upon. That wasn't how it worked. However, if my will was strong enough, if I gave my heart some time, then it might. Anything was possible, if you believed and tried.

"Okay…" He softened. "Do you want children?"

"Yes." Being a father was one of my biggest aspirations. I wanted to be the one mine had never been. Leave a legacy I could be proud of. It meant Queen Natasha would be the mother, but we wouldn't have to conceive naturally, if we weren't able to (or didn't want to) for whatever reason. There were plenty of alternatives.

"Do you want your relatives to be safe and well-cared for?" Alberta was speaking now, intense yet kind again. "To have a life that's better than the one they currently have?"

Mama, Babushka, Karolina, Sonya, Paul, Zoya, and Katya struggled to provide for themselves, even though they lived in Meridia—Anderton's capital. My son-of-a-bitch father had bought us a house there, when we'd left the New Soviet Union, but he didn't pay the mortgage or any other bills. A large portion of my salary went toward my family, and the rest came from the minimum-wage jobs Kalya and Sonya had. Plus, my father had several chances to arrive unannounced and pick up where he left off, since I no longer stayed with them. Everything about that situation wasn't good.

The answer to Alberta's question was a no-brainer. "Yes."

Hans nodded. "Well, Belikov. It looks like the positives outweigh the negatives." Strangely, I wasn't as enthused to hear that as I should've been. "When do you have to decide?"

"By the end of this month."

"So, you still have a ways to go then." I released a confirmative sound. He stood up and collected his trash. "Well, if I were you, I'd say yes. You'd be crazy not to." He patted my back before dismissing himself.

Arthur gave a reassuring smile. "Don't be so troubled. I'm sure the Queen will support you no matter what you choose, if she's your friend like you claim. It'll all be fine." He uttered a goodbye and also departed with the remnants of his lunch.

I folded my arms on the table and banged my head against them. I've never felt like such a wreck. "Let me guess, Alberta. You're also going to tell me to accept the offer." I even sounded like one too.

She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "No. I was going to tell you to follow your heart and do what's right for you." I lifted my head, surprised and touched. I was just about to say as much...until we locked eyes. Hers were dark and stern. "But don't be like Mikhail Tanner. This palace, this nation, can't go through that again. Promise me."

"Alberta…"

"Promise me, Dimitri."

The weight of my promises kept growing and growing. How long was it going to take for them to crush me? I knew adding on to it wasn't smart, but I couldn't quit just because I was tired. A potential king didn't do that. He wasn't weak. He wasn't selfish. He was strong and powerful and would never let his people down.

"I promise." If I broke this vow, Lord save us all. "I won't be like him."

For the rest of the day, my mind was on Rose. Her anguish was the worst out of the other contestants, and it surely showed. I wanted to be smug about her guilt over a choice I'd told her to deeply consider, instead of letting her tension with Avery get the best of her. However, I couldn't. So much was happening to her, and she didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve a lecture from me, when she was already feeling like crap.

Honestly, I was guilty myself. If I hadn't helped her, then she would've been fine. Avery would've been fine. The other girls would've been fine. I shouldn't have gotten involved, shouldn't have been her ally. We caused too much damage, when we worked together. We turned everything upside down. We had everyone at our mercy. Even if it was justified, we couldn't do that. Not to Olestra. Not to the throne.

That also included our attraction. I'd thought it wasn't an issue anymore, but I supposed I was sadly mistaken. Somehow, I'd led her to think it was okay for her to try to kiss and touch me. To try to get close to me again. And somehow, I'd let myself think it was too. What had occurred in the interrogation room and library was proof. I'd called her "Roza." I'd held her against me. I'd nearly pressed my lips against hers.

She'd been so angelic and beautiful, so radiant in that white dress. I'd never seen a light as bright as her, a light that could vanquish the darkness. My darkness…

Yet she was too bright. If I admired her too much—or fell in love with her, God forbid—I'd get burned. I'd go blind. It was safer in the dark. Colder, but safer. What she'd said during her interview, though, was forever etched into my brain.

Beauty is loving yourself for who you are.

Details are beautiful.

I don't know if I'm beautiful.

That last response had struck a chord in me. How hadn't she known how beautiful she was? It was as if she'd never looked in a mirror. Had never realized the way people looked at her. Many would've called it playing dumb, like Deirdre. Some would've called it tragic. Few would've called it both. Yet I didn't agree with either of those. I believed it made her glow even more.

Real stars didn't understand why they shone. They just shone.

A knock sounded on my bedroom door, and I put my Western novel under my pillow before going over to open it. Whoever it was, it better be important. I was at a pivotal moment in my book, nowhere near finished with thinking about Rose, and had a gourmet dinner waiting to be eaten on my desk.

The person standing on the other side was the last one I wanted to see: Ethan. I crossed my arms and scowled. "What are you doing here? I'm busy."

"Doesn't seem like it." He shoved past me, and I growled then closed the door. He mimicked my stance, once I faced him. "So, I heard Queen Natasha offered you quite the promotion."

I glared. "Who told you?" Hans, Arthur, and Alberta were the only people who knew. And they weren't the gossiping type. They would've kept our conversation to themselves, unless they'd gotten my permission to share. How the hell had Ethan found out?

"Nobody. I overheard the two of you, when I came to her office for something that's none of your business." He smirked. "I bet there are more who know. That hallway had some traffic, while you were in there."

"You're lying." I stalked forward until I was towering over him, fists clenched. I made my voice as menacing as possible. "I don't have time for your games, Moore. I suggest you leave my room, this instant, and stay out of my personal life."

He didn't back down. "And I suggest you decline Queen Natasha's offer."

I widened my eyes. "Excuse me?"

"Did I stutter, Belikov?" Ethan pointed his finger, visibly straining to keep from jabbing my chest to death. "You don't deserve to be king. You've been putting up a front all these years, acting like you love and care about her. But you never have. You've just been taking advantage of her, and she's too brainwashed to see it."

Was this seriously happening right now? How could he accuse me of using Her Majesty for sex and protection? I'd never do that. I wasn't doing that. She was my friend. Friends didn't lead each other on and manipulate each other. The intensity of his jealousy was so ridiculous, it was comical.

Almost.

"You're so pathetic." I pushed him away, and he nearly fell to the floor. "It's really sad how you haven't realized that yet. Queen Natasha doesn't give a damn about you." Ethan flinched. "You try so hard to get her attention, to make her happy. But she doesn't want you. She never has and never will." I smiled mockingly. "Don't worry, though. You can always be with her in your pitiful dreams."

He charged, pummeling me into the door. I was shocked it was still standing. "I'm so sick and tired of you. Everyone thinks you're God's gift on Earth. They all worship and look up to you. But you're nothing but an arrogant, conniving bastard. You think you're better than us, and you're just doing whatever you can to snag the throne."

I flipped our positions, on the verge of beating him senseless. "Shut up, you insecure piece of shit. I have the accomplishments, praise, respect, and admiration I have because of hard work and dedication. That was why I was propositioned to be king. I earned it." Ethan tried to attack me again, but I kept him in place. "Maybe you should stop moping around and step up."

"I'm only going to say this one, more time," he lowly said. "You need to decline the offer. If you don't, I'll tell Queen Natasha all about your feelings for Rosemarie Hathaway." It was an unsettling coincidence how I was having my own Avery situation.

My heart stopped. "I don't have any feelings for her." I answered a little too quickly.

He grinned, triumphant. "Yes, you do. You're being defensive. I also noticed how different you were, when she was around. It was like she...melted you. Queen Natasha never had that effect on you." I cursed internally and gulped, releasing my hold on him. "I totally get it. The girl's smoking hot." My anger came rushing back, accompanied by disgust. "But she's a lost cause. You're never going to be with her, unless you do what Mikhail did."

"Don't you ever speak about her, as if she's some object. She's more than that." I pierced him with my gaze. "And I won't follow in his footsteps. What he did was completely stupid."

Ethan spread his arms. "Okay, I hear you. Calm down." I didn't, and he repeated, "Like I said, all you have to do is tell Her Majesty you won't be king, and I won't say anything about your interest in Rosemarie. It's that simple."

"You don't have any proof, and I don't have any feelings for her that would support that proof." Would he ever get that through his thick ass skull?

"Your denial will crumble, when I get some." I scoffed. He forced me out of the way, and I continued glaring as he opened the door. Right before he left, he gave me a rare look of pure emotion. I faltered. "Don't take my love away from me, Dimitri. I'd hate to take away yours from you." Then, he was gone.

I didn't let myself think about the words that had just escaped his mouth. Instead, I bolted into the hallway and yelled after him, "I don't love her!"

"You don't love who?"

I turned to find Queen Natasha staring at me in curiosity, and Prince Christian watching in amusement. "No one." They began to object, so I directed the focus to them. "Forgive me if I'm being rude, but why are you two here? Is something wrong?"

She glanced at her nephew, who huffed and glowered at the floor. I immediately figured out where this was going. "I was wondering if you could talk to him about Vasilisa? I've tried a million times, but he always ignores me."

"Are you sure?" I asked, not wanting to get in the middle of their family problems. "He probably doesn't want to talk about it."

"Yeah, can I just go to my room?" Prince Christian requested. "I'm tired."

Queen Natasha shook her head. "No." He groaned dramatically, and she smacked his arm. "Stop being so childish." She sent me a pleading look, clasping her hands. "Can you please just talk to him? I'd really appreciate it."

I hated getting put into this kind of position, even though I'd had man-to-man chats with Prince Christian before. What if I wasn't helpful at all? What if I worsened things? That hadn't happened yet, but there was a first time for everything.

Was I overreacting?

Nonetheless, her puppy eyes—and the desire to be a good friend—won me over. "All right. I will." Hopefully, I didn't screw things up too badly.

"Thank you, Dimka." She smiled and kissed my cheek, then faced Prince Christian and ridded the beam illuminating her features. "Listen to him, okay? No sass. No swearing. I want us to get past this." He nodded stiffly. Queen Natasha took that as her cue to leave. "Good luck," she said, turning to me. "I'll see you two later."

He and I stood like statues, as she walked away. I flicked my gaze to him every now and then, unsure if I should initiate the dialogue or let him start. When seconds became minutes, I realized I was going to have to make the effort, like usual. "Why don't we go inside? It'll be more comfortable there, and I've got some food."

Prince Christian instantly loosened up. "Sure." I already knew food was his motivation for not resisting. I had him enter before me, and he trudged in while I closed the door behind us. He paused in the center of my room, scanning the area with interest. "So, this is what the guardian quarters looks like. It's plainer than I expected, but not bad."

"I'm not much of a decorator."

"I'm guessing you didn't decorate your room where you grew up, either?"

"I actually did."

He ended his survey, arching a brow. "You don't consider the palace your home?" I averted my gaze. Prince Christian didn't say anything else on the matter, despite the burning feeling of his eyes on me. Fortunately, he switched topics. "So, where's the food you promised me?"

I pointed to the desk. "It's right there." He went over to it, devouring my meal as soon as he sat down. "Don't eat all of it, though," I told him, when half of it was gone. "I still need to eat." He looked bummed out yet stopped feasting nevertheless. I leaned against my dresser, watching him carefully while I turned the tables. "How's being away from Vasilisa going?" He tensed. "Do you miss her?"

A heavy sigh flew out of Prince Christian, taking his tension with it. He shrunk in his chair. "Not so great." He stared off into the distance. "I miss her like crazy. Her laugh, her smile, her touch, her hair—all of her. She was the only, good thing in my life. I wish I had her back." I hadn't seen them alone together, but I'd noticed the way he'd looked at her and her at him. His words were the heartbreaking truth.

His parents, Lucas and Moira Ozera, had committed suicide when he was nine. He'd had no siblings and no friends. Tasha's political agenda hadn't made things any easier, and by the time he was ten, he'd been a lonely prince surrounded by even more pain and death. Bad things had been all he'd known, until Vasilisa had come into the picture.

I was about to respond, but Prince Christian cut me off with a harsh laugh. "I shouldn't have given Lissa that necklace. Aunt Tasha wouldn't have treated her so terribly. Wouldn't have made her harm herself and…" He choked on a sob, tears falling down his face. My throat tightened and ached. "Aunt Tasha says she loves me and wants me to be happy, but she hurt me. Why would she hurt me, when she claims she never would?"

How could I answer that? No words would piece together his broken soul. Change the fact that Her Majesty wasn't being the maternal figure he needed. He hadn't understood that years ago, when he was just a boy going through the motions. Yet now that he was trying to heal, he realized how much she was neglecting him and prioritizing her desires over his. She wasn't supporting him at all.

Withholding my own tears, I walked to him and offered a hug. Prince Christian accepted my gesture, not bothering to stand. He clung to me as he sobbed, and I rubbed his back and hair. It seemed to calm him, and eventually, his sobs quieted into sniffles. He let go, moments later, and I fetched some tissues from my dresser.

"Thanks," he said hoarsely, blowing his nose and wiping his eyes. He'd never been this vulnerable with me, in the past, and I could tell it was throwing him into shock. I decided to give him a bit of space.

"Anytime." I ridded a few tears that had apparently slid out, while he'd been crying. "She doesn't mean to hurt you, you know. It's just hard for her not to project her pain on to everyone else. That's all."

Prince Christian disagreed. "You don't have to make excuses for Aunt Tasha. She's been projecting pain for eight years. At this point, it's intentional."

For some reason, I struggled acknowledging that. "Maybe. But she's human and capable of doing unspeakable things. We all are. It's not fair to put the blame on her. We're all equally guilty."

"You're right…" He stared at me, his bloodshot gaze chilling me to the bone. Never had he looked at me so closely. "However, if Aunt Tasha hurt me, then that means she'll hurt you too—another person who she claims to love and care about. She probably already has."

His words triggered an image of Rose in that white dress. It was as if she was in front of me. Her eyes were so exuberant and passionate. Her skin was such a rich, almond hue. Her hair was shiny and perfect.

And then, it shifted to her in dirty rags. It was as if she was miles away. Her eyes were so haunted and glassy. Her skin was such a pale hue of gold and bronze. Her hair was dull and messy.

But my point being, she was still alive. What kind of state she was in didn't matter. The only one that did was death, and that had yet to come. I was okay, for now.

"She hasn't hurt me," I told Prince Christian, who looked very skeptical and confused. "I haven't stopped forgiving her."

Author's Note

Hey, everyone! I hope you participated in the #PickUpVampireAcademy movement that happened a week ago, on Twitter and other social media platforms. I sure did, along with some other fanfic writers and readers on this site. It went pretty well, but it doesn't have to stop there. You can keep spreading the beauty of VA.

Aside from that, be sure to vote on my poll about that Christmas one-shot I'm gonna write. The deadline is December 24th. Also, you can go to my Facebook page and Pinterest for further information on my updating schedule, sneak peeks, miscellaneous stuff, and pictures for my fanfics.

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Until next time...