Part 2 Chapter 49

DPOV

Songs: Blue Monday by New Order

"Have fun you two."

Her back turned to me as her hand lifted towards Ivashkov's shoulder. Those fingers that had just been nervously fidgeting with a stone gently curled into a loving squeeze. His face lit up, and I was suddenly aware of the bruise forming on my chest where Rose's stake had been pressed.

The past several weeks I'd conditioned myself. I'd used every situation with Rose as an opportunity to fortify my Guardian training. I wasn't necessarily detached, but I was far less emotionally invested. She was my pupil in the training ring and the Princess of St. Vladimir's outside of it. That idea played in my mind over and over like a mantra keeping me in check.

But seeing them together was the ultimate test of my control. Especially when the voice in the back of my mind was clawing its way towards the surface, combatting my composure and begging to break out.

"...there are constantly two people battling inside me and I'm afraid what will happen when one wins."

I leaned on a familiar crutch and focussed on my Guardian training. I examined how Lord Ivashkov looked at her, and searched for any tells that might give him away. As Rose walked off, his eyes trailed her, but not for too long.

There was a relaxed air about him as he turned back to me. I knew how intimidating my stature could be. I'd seen enough of our kind subtly cower when I stood too close, but the young Lord's carefree attitude stayed the same.

It was irritating.

I raised an eyebrow at him when he didn't say anything. I could only assume this was some sort of intimidation tactic to accompany his "stay away from my girl" talk, which I was certain was the reason he was here.

He stayed quiet for a couple more beats, his eyes darting from an empty space around me back to my face. "I don't want to take up too much of your time," he finally said. "I know you have a shift to start soon, so how about we walk and talk?"

Lord Ivashkov raised an arm at his side gesturing towards the castle. I began walking, not bothering slowing my pace for his comfort like I normally did.

"So Rose and you have been training for about a month now," he started as he caught up to my side. I wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement. He carried on without a response. "I'll admit, I was a bit unsettled when she told me about it, but I can't say I was surprised."

I glanced over at him. He was facing forward, one of his hands hanging loose at his side, the other at his waist with a thumb looped around his belt. The one at his side was fidgeting—not in a nervous way though. In an almost habitual way. I quickly scanned for any other signs of discomfort, but he seemed at ease. I looked ahead again, shifting my attention to his words rather than mannerisms.

"After a couple rounds of firing arrows back in the Isles, it was easy to see how badly she'd wanted that...and more. Although it did help her memories for a moment, it still worried me to think it could have the opposite effect and make things worse."

She'd fired arrows at the Western Isles? What had she remembered?

"So I tried my best to help her in alternative ways. However, that didn't always work either."

That voice began to creep up as my mind pictured an assortment of "alternative ways".

His breathing was getting a little heavier now. I didn't slow down.

I could see the castle entrance up ahead and made my way through a couple of the early risers, not caring if he was still keeping up.

"We all have our strengths," I heard a small umpf sound as he ran into someone and a hurried apology as he made it to my side again. "Some more obvious than others," he poked my bicep with his finger and it took a lot for me not to react.

"You don't say much," another ambiguous statement that might have been a question. "You seem to be constantly thinking about things though. Maybe even overthinking...something I try never to do." I looked over again and he had a lazy smirk plastered across his face. I considered how it was possible that he used that smirk as a tool - the same way I used my Guardian shroud. He was hiding behind this casual, cocky disposition; but what was he hiding? "However, Rose said that you didn't even think twice when she asked you to help train her."

I finally slowed down. The smirk was still there, but humor wasn't the only thing behind it. He looked at me for a moment, examining me again. I thought about what he could be looking for, then his statement about overthinking made me look away and shove open the entrance doors.

"I would ask you why, but I doubt you would tell me. So I'll just say this." I stopped walking and turned towards him, readying myself for the inevitable speech about his claim to Rose. But instead, he said something completely unexpected, "Thank you."

We stood in the main entrance facing one another as we had on the hill. Oddly, it was quieter here. There was no burbling stream in the background or wailing wind to distract and drown out unwanted thoughts. It was silent and stale inside. His words echoed instead of getting lost in the ambiance of our surroundings.

"I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping her away from that former life, but now I can see that I was afraid."

Before I hadn't responded to his rambling out of stubbornness— or maybe even spite—but now I truly had nothing to reply with.

"Fear is not an easy thing for a man to admit, I'm sure you can agree." I nodded. This at least made sense. "But hearing that she wanted to possibly endanger herself alarmed me. Enough to wish she wouldn't, despite how happy it would make her. But you, Belikov, you had the strength where I did not. To look past that fear and give her what she wants...and needs. So thank you."

His words confused me. They sounded like a compliment, but when I looked deeper it also seemed like he was taking a dig. My defensive instincts kicked in. "I wouldn't put her in a situation that would endanger her. I care about the well-being of the Princess as much as any other Guardian in her service."

"I would think more, actually." The smirk was back. My jaw clenched. "And I appreciate your dedication."

He took a step to the right and we began walking again. "There's only so much one can do for those we care about, and even though you're already doing a tremendous amount, I was hoping to ask for more."

A Guardian walked by us and I almost didn't notice him wave hello. "I was wondering if you'd consider talking to Rose about the battle she was injured in. I know it's a lot to ask, as I'm sure that day isn't one you like to journey back to."

Truth be told, that day made its way into my dreams more often than not—despite my best efforts to block it out. Then, I wondered, who had told him I was there? Had he been fishing for information about me?

"I'm not expecting an answer right away, or one at all really. I just hope you'll think about it. It could be one less thing she'd have to be afraid of...maybe even you as well."

I thought about what he'd said earlier. About putting aside one's fears for those we cared about. Yet, despite his delivery, it still put me on a defensive edge.

"I'll consider it, My Lord."

"Wonderful," he stopped walking and smacked me on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it." I hadn't even realized he had been leading the way until I looked over to see the door to my room. How did he know where it was?

"Well your shift will be starting soon so I should let you go." He turned to leave, but then whipped back around pointing a finger in the air. "Ah, I almost forgot!" Lord Ivashkov reached behind his back and tossed a small bag at me. I snatched it out of the air with my right hand and brought it down to examine it. It was a brown, leather flask.

"A little birdie told me you enjoy a good wine. You won't have a finer drink than that," he winked.

I nodded again and he turned to leave for good.

After entering my room I began examining every in and out of the conversation. I picked apart every word he said and still came up with a different answer each time. How could one Moroi be so damn confusing. I never knew when he was being genuine and when he was being a snake in the grass.

At first, I considered the possibility of me being paranoid. He sounded like he truly cared about Rose and was looking for a way to help her. Knowing my work schedule and where my quarters were could both be found out by asking a simple question. Hell, even the fact that I'd been at the battle was known to most. But despite all that, it didn't mean he wasn't also subtly finding ways to pin me as well.

I looked at the leather flask in my hand, turning it over a few times. I thought about what he'd said when he gave it to me, and all second-guesses and thoughts of paranoia went out the door. I was positive Adrian Ivashkov had been digging for dirt on me. And it looked like he'd found it.

RPOV

In Hell I'll be in Good Company by The Dead South

"Why does he always insist on meeting in the most foul smelling of places for these rendezvous?" Adrian scuffed the bottom of his shoe against the stone wall behind him. I didn't have the heart to tell him that no amount of scrubbing would save those ruined boots.

"Well it wouldn't smell so foul if you hadn't stepped directly into that pile of donkey shi—"

"Don't," he lifted his chin and closed his eyes. "We promised to never speak of the incident again."

I bit my lip and held in a laugh.

Adrian gave up on his efforts and abandoned the wall with a sigh. "This better be worth it."

All humor slipped away as I replied, "Couldn't agree with you more." It had been weeks since we'd enlisted Abe's help and my already short patience had been whittled down.

I heard a small noise from the other end of the alley and turned towards it. Adrian perked up a few moments later when Abe walked into sight. He was wearing his usual ostentatious taste in ensemble that made Adrian's boots look modest in comparison.

"Good evening," he began to greet us when his nose turned up and his proud expression quirked. "What on earth is that smell?"

I could feel Adrian cringe behind me. "Nevermind that. What have you got for us?"

"Hmm, you certainly don't waste any time, Miss Hathaway."

I waited for him to spill whatever news he apparently had, but he just stood there proudly grinning like a cat.

"Well," I blurted, resisting the urge to smack that grin off his face. "You gonna tell us or are we just gonna stand here all night staring until we turn to stone?"

"Oh, so I'm Medusa now am I?"

"Yeah, and I'm Parseus so get to talking before I behead you."

"Actually, it's Persues," Adrian corrected, "and I feel like my likeness to him is more fitting in this situation. Aside from his heroics, he was notoriously handsome. Although, you my love, are a dead ringer for Athena herself."

"Indeed," Abe chuckled.

"Ah enough you two! Can you be serious for one goddamn minute?"

Mazur cleared his throat and brought his hands behind his back. "Certainly." He walked deeper into the alley and I turned to follow. "My men and I have a lead. I apologize for not coming to you sooner, but I wanted to make sure that it was credible before getting anyone's hopes up."

"A lead? You mean you found a Moroi that will actually talk?" I tried to keep my voice down but my excitement was overflowing.

"A human actually," Abe supplied.

Adrian and I looked at each other skeptically.

"We've been looking into any feeders that were under service during the time of the Sage Princess' disappearance, but they've been difficult to find." I wondered how he'd even gotten his hands on a list of people in the first place, but now that he was giving me details I didn't want to derail the conversation. "Apparently, this human King bans any of them from returning to his kingdom so they are scattered about the country with very little trace. But, with some digging and much persuading my men finally managed to find one."

"And you think they could've seen something? Back home or here at St. Vlad's?" I was jittery with anticipation.

"She doesn't believe she's seen anything out of the ordinary," Abe stroked his beard in that villainy way he did. "But I believe there are things she doesn't quite understand. That it's possible she didn't realize their importance and still does not. Which is why I'm coming to you now for assistance."

"Great! Let's meet with her now," I pushed by him and began making my way out of the alley, but when I realized no one was following I turned back around. "What?"

"Actually, I was hoping just Lord Ivashkov could help with this particular mission."

"You can't be serious?" I realized it sounded like I was making Adrian out to be a caffler, so I turned to him and added, "No offense." He raised a brow at me, apparently unconvinced.

"This situation requires...finesse. Something the young Lord here is more suited for."

"What, so he can compel her? If so, can't you just do that yourself?"

"No, I'm afraid that won't work," Abe made a few steps towards me, looking down at his boots in thought. "It's probable she's already been compelled after finishing her service, therefore, doing so again will either prove ineffective or could just damage her mind. We'll need to get more creative than that."

I made a move to speak but Abe's face shot up to halt me. "And no, I'm not talking about beating it out of her."

That look was far too pointed for my liking. "That's not what I was going to suggest," I gritted through my teeth.

Adrian was right. The alley did smell foul.

"This is ridiculous! You can't just make the decision to exclude me without good cause."

"Pardon me, but did you or did you not entrust me with this task? And besides, I don't see what the issue is. Do you not find Lord Ivashkov capable? Do you not think him reliable enough to get the job done?"

"N-no. Of course not! I mean, yes. I think he's perfectly capable of—"

"Good," Abe exclaimed, interrupting me again. "Then that settles it."

He gave Adrian some instructions on where to meet him and made a move to leave the alley. I was equal parts dumbfounded and infuriated as he approached. My fingernails dug into my palms and I could feel my cheeks heating up. A light touch pressed on to my shoulder and I whipped around to see Adrian already beside me. He tilted his head and guided me to the side.

"Look," his voice was low and lulling but my hardened glare was fixed on Abe. "I know you feel like you're being left out. But he's only trying to do what's best for the mission."

"He's doing what's best for him."

"Rose," his voice sharpened in a way that forced my attention. "No matter what you're feeling right now you've got to see that regardless of his methods, he is helping us. Even if you don't trust him, I need you to trust me. I can do this."

I looked into his green eyes to see one of those rare instances of pure clarity and earnest. I knew Adrian desperately wanted to prove his value, and as much as I trusted him I still couldn't shake the urge to be there myself. I took a deep breath and nodded, unable to vocalize my yielding.

His fingers gently pinched my chin, lifting it a bit higher. "Buck up, Little Dhampir. I won't let you down." He gave me a signature Adrian Ivashkov smirk and trailed after Mazur.

/

I sulked the whole way back to the castle. I felt wretched. Not only was I pissy about being left on the sidelines, but I'd made Adrian feel like he had to defend his worth. I lazily kicked open a door to one of the larger studies and scuffed my heels as I pulled at the ends of my hair. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

A large fire blazed in the fireplace, which seemed odd given the mild temperature outside. A black head of hair popped around one of the elaborate armchairs and the fire suddenly made sense.

"Oh, it's you." My lack of enthusiasm was obvious.

"Talking into the mirror again," Christian quipped. "Well, at least you're finally admitting you're thick as a brick. The first step in overcoming denial is admitting your faults out loud."

"Feck off ball-bag."

"Really?" He looked me up and down, not the least bit affected. "That's the best you can do? Something's got you off your game." Christian turned back in his chair to face the fire. I realized it had been moved closer to the hob than the other one beside it. I walked over and could feel the heat from where I stood. It was unnerving how he could not only withstand it, but seemed comforted by it.

I pulled the seat back a bit and plopped down. Christian's fingers subtly rose off the arm of the chair and the flames moved in a synchronized wave.

"So why are you in here sulking? I hope you're not planning on burning the place down."

"Hardly," he let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. "Believe it or not, the last place I want to go is back home. So worry not, St. Vlad's will remain intact."

I watched the flames dance along the charred wood, their colors pulsing from red to orange to white. The heat and the unnatural blaze should have made me feel uneasy, yet it was eerily calming. We sat like that for a while, neither of us speaking, both of our eyes fixated on the enchanted fire.

After a few minutes I decided I'd done enough moping. "Alright, I'm bored," I hopped out of my seat, the sudden movement causing Chris to jolt and the fire to shudder. "Let's go out."

"Out? With you?" I assumed the look he was giving me was payback for how I reacted to seeing him earlier.

"Yeah, we could use a drink. C'mon it'll be fun. You can tell me all about life growing up in Inferion."

"And why the hell would I want to do that?" I shrugged and stared at him, waiting for him to get up. His brows scrunched a little, unnerved by my intense gaze.

"Can't you just go with one of your little Guardian buddies?"

"They're busy. Besides, it's not like you have anything better to do." I gestured around the empty room that now looked a bit cryptic without the roaring flame.

I stared at him again, resorting to annoying him into going to the pub with me. This time his icy gaze met mine in a challenge. I didn't move, transforming myself into a lifesize dhampir doll. When we were kids it was the surest way to creep out Lissa and Natalie. Christian lasted a bit longer than they usually did, but eventually gave in.

"Fine," he growled, dusting off his pants as he finally stood up. "But you can forget about us bonding over tortured childhoods."

"Whatever you say, Ozera."

/

"And don't get me started on handball. The fuckers always picked me last. ALWAYS. Jerks." Chris huffed at the glass in front of his face, trying his hardest to cover up the small whimper he hadn't been able to hold in.

It was a ripe opportunity to make fun of him, but most of my concentration was being used on maintaining my balance on my wobbly stool. Had it been this unstable before? I slapped him on the shoulder a couple times, his drink sloshing around. "It's okay, man. Screw em."

He glanced at his sleeve where patches were becoming darker from the spilt liquor. He looked annoyed for a brief second before relaxing his brows and belting out, "You're right! Screw em!" Chris raised his arm in the air, the rest of his drink falling out with it. He brought the cup to his mouth and flung it back, only then realizing it was all gone.

"Bar keep! Another round."

Old John looked at him speculatively, then to me. I wiggled my glass with a pleading smile, hoping to appeal to his softer side—if he had one.

Apparently, he did. Old John walked over and plopped the bottle down in front of us. I didn't waste a second and filled our glasses to the rim.

"Always remember to forget the things that made you sad! But never forget to remember the things that made you glad!" I clinked our glasses together and we threw the drinks back.

Chris used his wet sleeve to wipe his chin, then looked over at me with a confused look. "Wait...what?"

DPOV

Patience by Chris Cornell, A Festa - Acustico by Milton Nascimento, Snowden's Jig by Carolina Chocolate Drops

I knocked on the broad twin doors, and a quiet voice called out from the other side, "Come in."

When I entered I was glad to see that she was alone. There were things I needed to say that weren't meant for others' ears.

"Dimitri, it's good to see you," Vasilisa beamed. She was seated in one of her arm chairs with an open book in her lap. I immediately felt bad for interrupting one of her rare moments of relaxation.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Your Majesty. I can come back another time if you're busy."

"Nonsense," she used the small book in her hand to wave me over. "I feel like it's been a while since we've talked about anything other than official royal business."

She was right, the last private conversation we'd had was before the dinner from hell. Any free time I had, I'd been using to train Rose. "Yes, it's good to see you as well."

The tight leather bind of her book croaked as she closed it and set it aside. It looked new, and I selfishly wondered if a fresh supply had been delivered to the library. "Listen, I haven't been feeling great about how we left things. I wanted to apologize if I overstepped any boundaries. I'm not trying to force anything on you. I just want what's best for the both of you."

It was admirable how caring Vasilisa could be. She had an entire kingdom to worry about and a possible rebellion creeping in from the outskirts of the country, yet she still found time to care what a Dhampir in her ranks was feeling. She could order me to do what she wished and I'd obey, but she governed with her heart not her status.

"There's no need to apologize, Vasilisa," I made sure to use her name rather than title so she knew I was being sincere and not just agreeable to my Queen. "You were right. My judgement was clouded, but that's my own personal dilemma to deal with. It should have no effect on how I view your decisions. I trust you and that will never change."

She tucked in her lips under her teeth in a small smile, her pale cheeks turning the smallest twinge pink. "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that, Dimitri. I've come to cherish our friendship and the last thing I want is to cause you to question it."

Truth be told, without Tasha here Vasilisa was the best friend I had. She had grieved with me, given me a second chance at life when I didn't think I wanted one, and had found a balance of raising me up and bringing me back down when I needed it.

I sat down beside her and gently placed my hand on hers. "There's no question about that. Thank you, Vasilisa. Truly."

She nodded, her shy smile growing now and after returning it I moved my hand over to my lap.

"Something tells me there are other thoughts on your mind."

Her perception was faultless. I ran a hand through my hair and slumped deeper into the chair. "I had an interesting conversation with Lord Ivashkov this afternoon."

"Oh?" Vasilisa's shoulders shifted towards me as she patiently waited for me to elaborate.

I told her everything. What I assumed he'd approached me to say, what he actually said, my skepticism and paranoia surrounding the entire conversation—any thought I had out in the open. It was rare, but I felt I needed to finally get out of my head and gain a new perspective before the constant circling drove me mad.

I took a deep breath after what seemed like the longest I'd spoken to anyone in months. "So what do you think?"

"You mean, can you trust him," she asked, deciphering what I really wanted to know.

I nodded, and added, "Do you?"

She looked across the room and thought about her answer for a while. "I want to." Her fingers tapped her knee as a couple more thoughts spilled out. "And not just for an alliance or for Rose, but because I can see there is a genuine person inside him. Not to mention what he did for the two of you."

Her phrasing stood out to me. It wasn't a mistake, but I could hardly see how he'd done anything for me that didn't also personally benefit himself. It would be petty of me not to be grateful to him for bringing Rose back safely, but there was no denying that he was still gaining an advantage. He'd also done a lot to help Vasilisa with her knowledge of Spirit, but again he had something to gain through her favor. "How do you mean?"

She looked over to me again, regarding me for a moment before carefully continuing, "While I agree the flask does seem a bit clandestine, he wouldn't have to ask anyone about the battle. He was there."

My brow scrunched as I tried to understand what she was saying.

"Adrian and his party arrived just as the fight with the humans was ending. After seeing the chaos of the battlefield they were about to turn around, but Adrian spotted the Strigoi attack. He rushed in and stopped the last one from delivering another strike to Rose."

"The arrow," I whispered, the pieces finally coming together.

Vasilisa nodded. "He saved her that day, and probably you as well. Who knows what that Strigoi would have done if it had found you still alive. Finished you off, or worse…"

I thought back to our conversation. "After a couple rounds of firing arrows back in the Isles, it was easy to see how badly she'd wanted that…" Suddenly so many things I'd disregarded about him began to emerge.

"I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping her away from that former life, but now I can see that I was afraid...But you, Belikov, you had the strength where I did not. To look past that fear and give her what she wants...and needs."

The irony of his words hit me like a wave of salt. In truth, he'd been the one to succeed when I had failed. He was the one that came through when she needed it most.

"I'm not saying this act automatically makes him trustworthy. I still don't know him that well and am not naive enough to be assured so quickly, but I do think he's being sincere about asking you to talk to Rose. I don't see any motive behind it other than hoping you can fill in the pieces he cannot." She pushed a glass of water towards me and I realized I'd been staring at my hands for the better part of our conversation. My tongue felt like sandpaper in my mouth upon seeing the cup and I reached over to take a few glutinous gulps.

"I'm not sure if that knowledge would help her or harm her. In the end, I think that's a decision for you and Rose to make."

I nodded, the water clearing my thoughts and bringing me back to the discussion at hand. "Yes. You're right."

"I'm sorry, this probably made things that much more convoluted for you." I looked up to see her regarding me with apprehension.

"No," I shook my head reassuringly. "I mean, yes. This creates a new perspective I hadn't considered, but maybe I've been misguided…for other reasons. I have a lot to think about."

She was about to say something else but was interrupted by a patrol Guardian stepping through the suite. He stood at the other side of the room, waiting for her to beckon him further in.

"What is it Healy," I called out, waving him forward.

"Sorry to interrupt, Sir. Your Majesty, I went to track down Lord Ozera for you."

"Yes, thank you. Is he here waiting for me," she kindly asked.

The Guardian looked a bit nervous for some reason. "Um no. Actually, he's uh, well…"

"Out with it Healy," I urged him, disappointed by his inability to follow through with a simple task.

He looked over to me and stood a bit taller, his voice punching the words in a staccato rhythm. "He's at the local tavern drunk as a skunk with the Princess," his focus moved back to Vasilisa as he quietly added, "Your Majesty."

Vasilisa turned to me, eyes wide in an open mouthed stare. I wasn't sure how to respond to that. Without warning she broke into laughter, sinking into her shoulders with each snigger. I couldn't help but grin after spotting the quizzical look on Healy's face.

When she started to settle down I stood up from my seat and drank down the last of my water. I walked over to Healy and patted him on the shoulder, "Don't worry, I'll handle it."

Vasilisa let out an amused sigh. "Don't let him embarrass himself too much, Dimitri. I'm not sure he could manage the aftermath tomorrow."

I nodded and gave her one last small smile before exiting the room.

/

The first thing I heard was Rose's laugh. It was loud and boisterous—almost overly cheerful but with a hint of drowsiness lacing it. When I walked in she was leaning on the bar, smiling at Old John. The barkeep was leaning back comfortably against the cabinet behind him, waving his arms out as he spoke to her. She seemed completely engrossed, though I'm not sure why. From the small pieces I'd caught it sounded like he was relaying his technique for selecting the best wine at the right price point.

Beside her, I could see Lord Ozera completely passed out on the bar. His left arm was draped across the wood and his cheek was resting in a small pool of ale.

I shook my head. The poor bastard.

Old John looked around Rose at me and gave me a friendly nod. "Can I get you anything, Sir?"

I waved my hand and wordlessly declined. Rose lazily turned around and I was amazed she managed to stay on her stool. Her eyes were hooded in a liquored haze, but when they finally landed on me they widened to the top of her forehead.

"Dimitri," she shouted excitedly. "Come—hic, come sit!"

"Vasilisa sent me to fetch Lord Ozera."

She turned in her stool a little more so that her back was to the bar. Rose reached over and lifted Chris' arm in the air before letting it fall limply back on to the bar. "Pretty sure he's spent," she giggled. "So unless you want him to suffer the humiliation of being seen carried back to the castle by a big strapping Guardian, looks like you're stuck here waiting for a bit."

After standing motionless for a moment, Rose leaned towards the stool beside her and patted it's seat. "C'mon. Hop to!"

Even though I knew from experience it was pointless to reason with a drunk, she still had a point. I walked over and took a seat. She spun around a couple times on her stool before clumsily landing back towards the bar with a slap against the wood.

"What are we drinking?" Apparently a renewed sense of energy rose up inside her as she eagerly tapped her fingers.

"Nothing for me, thank you."

"Sure, sure," she nodded excessively as she slid a bottle and two sticky glasses towards us. Her hand squeezed my arm and I forced myself not to think about the last time we were in this tavern together.

"Did you know that John here comes from a long line of barkeeps," she said as she poured port into the glasses, spilling about half the contents of the second one. "Not only did his father tend bar, but so did his father's father and his father's father's father. Isn't that fascinating?"

I looked away from her to see Old John smiling proudly at her. "I did not. That is fascinating."

His eyes glanced over our heads and he politely excused himself to attend to a table of patrons in the back. Rose didn't notice. She was currently fixated on the contents of her glass. She carefully raised it to her lips and took a small sip, her eyebrows arching as it went down.

"Have you tried this before? It's soooo good!" She took another sip, licking her lips this time to catch some of the red liquid.

"Port? Yes," I answered. "A little sweet for my taste. You should be careful. Too much of that and you'll have a headache tomorrow."

Rose grinned and let out a huff. "Still in teacher mode, huh?" She dipped her finger in the glass and stirred the contents around. "You're probably right, though."

"So, Lissa's got you on babysitter duty tonight? How stimulating." She sunk her finger into her mouth, sucking off the remnants of the drink before pulling it out with a pop.

"Some Guardian work may seem more stimulating than other," I answered flatly. "But if it's important to the Queen, it's equally important to me."

"Pffft, please," she snorted. "Busy work is busy work and that's that. No matter how important they say it is to the mission."

Mission? Her tone had turned a little bitter at the end and I wondered what caused the shift.

The barkeep returned to fetch a couple tankards for the table's fresh pitcher of ale. "Hey Old John," Rose called over to him. "My friend here says Port is too sweet for him. How bout a glass of whiskey."

"Of course. I'll bring it over to you right after I drop these off to those musicians over there." He scurried away and Rose turned towards me again.

"So, what other important things does my sister have you doing throughout the day?"

The irony that she used to be the one divvying up tasks for the day was irritating. "Nothing that would interest you." I looked over at Chris. His position hadn't changed.

"Allllright," she looked down at her drink and muttered under her breath. It was something along the lines of "pissy mood".

I was doing it again. Getting mad with her over something she couldn't control. "Sorry," I amended. "Long day."

"I hear ya," she let out a sigh. Something was obviously troubling her. I was about to ask her what, when she perked up again and changed the subject.

"Hey, got any dirt on sparky over there?"

"Dirt?"

"C'mon. Don't hold out on me Belikov," she shoved me with her elbow. "The man is marrying my sister after all. I deserve a little juice."

"Deserve? I'm not sure if that constitutes trash talking a well-liked Lord," I smirked.

She tilted her chin and pointed a finger at me. "Don't think I'm above commanding it out of you, because I will, Constable Belikov."

She was teasing, that I was sure. But I couldn't help fixating on how different she was. The old Rose still held the air of a Princess, but did her best to become something else. Something she chose rather than was born into. This Rose obviously didn't care much for the title either, but didn't turn her back on it the same way. In fact, on several occasions she used it as a tool for humor. Regardless, both women had an affliction for it.

"Oh, well in that case, Your Highness," I dipped my head down and her nose scrunched. Different, yet the same.

"Hmm I do remember his aunt telling me a few things," I thought back to our training days in Rus, when we'd take the occasional night off and Tasha would amuse Ivan and me with her stories from home. It had been a while since I'd written to Tasha. I'd have to remember to when I finished my shift. "When Christian's great uncle wanted him to start making more appearances at Court, he had some new, stricter guidelines he wanted him to follow. Christian disagreed with the terms and in a fit of protest he set his entire wardrobe ablaze."

"Hmm, I can understand the feeling," her nostrils flared as if she'd smelled something rank. "There's a particular yellow dress I wouldn't mind seeing burnt to ash."

"Yes, well even though he thought it was a good idea at the time, apparently, he'd done so after he'd just woken. So he was forced to go about the castle in his nightgown for a week until they could get some more clothes made for him."

Rose burst into a full-bellied laugh and I couldn't help but smile beside her.

"Well, it could've been worse," she managed to get out between chortles.

"How's that?" I watched her wipe a stray tear from the corner of her eye.

She glanced over at Christian then back to me with a mischievous glint that I recognized. "He could've been sleeping in the nude."

Her snickers filled the room again. The mental image of the young lord running around the palace stark naked wasn't exactly amusing to me, but Rose's own hilarity in it was—and this time I laughed too.

"Some embarrassment could be avoided, though, with strategically placed household items," she quipped. "Like a table-side sconce"

"Or a nice bowl of fruit."

She sputtered something about grapes between her fits of giggles. Eventually her laughing slowed and her next words were quieter and more lucid than she'd sounded before. "There he is."

I looked around to see who she was referring to when I noticed her gaze still pointed at me. "Who?"

"Dimitri."

I must have been mistaken thinking she was more clear-headed. "Uh, yes Rose. I think we already established that I'm here."

"No, no, no. I mean yes. I mean," she blew a piece of hair away from her face with a huff. "Most of the time you're Guardian Belikov, High Constable of St. Vladimirs," she raised her hand and saluted me with a grin. "But tonight, you're just Dimitri. And I like it."

She stared at me, her brown eyes wide with a tender glint. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to respond or not, but I just stared back, fascinated by the playful, charming girl across from me. I knew Rose was young for how accomplished she was from the moment I met her, but it was almost like this was the first time she actually looked her age.

Old John set down the whiskey between us, causing her eyes to blink a few times dazedly. She looked down at the glass then over to the table at the back. I could tell immediately an idea had just sparked. "Oy, you lads musicians?"

The group turned to her and raised their glasses high. "Aye pretty lass," one of them answered. "Just passing through on our way to Limerick."

"Fantastic," she exclaimed. "Play us a song, will ya?"

They didn't need to be coaxed or asked twice. It was almost comedic how quickly the men established a beat and filled the room with a merry tune.

Rose's smile grew the size of the crescent moon. Her hair lightly swished at the base of her back as she moved her head side to side. I watched her hand tapping her knee for a few beats, until it stopped. Her face whipped over to meet mine as another idea hatched. "Dance with me."

It wasn't really a question so I didn't answer, but the look on my face was apparently answer enough. Rose rolled her eyes and reached behind us to grab the glass of whiskey. Either she'd forgotten she had ordered it for me or just grew tired of watching it sit there untouched. The empty glass returned to the bar as quickly as it had been snatched away. Rose's mouth quirked a bit and she shook her shoulders, fighting off the shiver the drink brought on.

She hopped off her stool and stumbled a couple steps. Her brow scrunched as she concentrated a little harder and righted herself. Her hand wrapped around my arm again, but with more force this time. It took me a second to realize she was trying to pull me off my seat. Normally, it wouldn't be this difficult for her to move me, but apparently her legs weren't the only thing the liquor was affecting. She let out a groan when her efforts proved fruitless.

"Ugh c'mon! It'll be fun."

"Afraid not." I turned in my seat to face her. "I don't know how to dance."

She muttered something incoherent under her breath and took a few steps back. Trying a new tactic, Rose plopped a hand on her hip and lifted the other in front of her face, curling her finger towards her with her best attempt at a come hither look. She knocked a chair over in the process and I suppressed a laugh. After knocking over two more I decided to stand. I still maintained a distance but thought by appearing to give in she'd focus more on where she was going and less on where I wasn't.

Her excitement overcame her and she reached out to pull me towards her. This time I let her. She began twirling around in circles, lifting her hands above her head. I took a subtle step back, but she didn't notice. She was too consumed by her own amusement. I stood close by and watched. Her dark waves whirled around her like unraveling scrolls. I smothered my hands under my crossed arms as a wanting feeling coursed through them.

I looked down at her feet instead, hoping they'd be less distracting. They drummed against the floor to a similar tempo as the musicians hands' beating the table top. Sometimes they'd stray from the rhythm and it was hard to tell if it was because of the alcohol, or because of her innate nature to dance to her own beat. My eyes eventually crawled their way back up, unable to resist a glance.

When I saw that her eyes were closed, my first reaction was to propel forward—to stop her from running into more of the furnishings. But I restrained myself. And I just watched.

In the training ring, she had been struggling with maintaining focus on her surroundings. She would hone in on her task at hand and forget about the many other obstacles around her. But here...it was like she was connected to the room. She would get within inches of someone or something and agiley shift before colliding. Like she could feel them without seeing them. It was the old Rose coming out, the warrior I had been trying to yank from inside her.

I was mesmerized. I couldn't stop watching this time even if I tried. I was reminded of the day Chris had thrown knives at her in the training field. She had moved in such a way then; different but the same. Maybe she was a different person. Maybe glimpses of who she was would be the closest she'd ever be to that woman I'd known. And maybe that was okay.

Rose stopped dancing and looked around. I thought she'd forgotten where she was for a moment before those curious eyes landed on me. An exasperated look crossed her face when she realized I'd decided not to dance with her after all, but then her expression fell. I wasn't sure what I looked like at the time, but it became clear that my state is what caused her to change. There was still that cloudy, drunken haze from before, but something sharpened. Her eyes narrowed, studying me, then widened. She looked behind me to a spot at the bar, her eyes zig zagging around as if she was trying to catch sight of something. Her chest moved with a slow deep breath and mine mirrored. Was she...was she remembering?

"LISSA!"

The shout startled us both. I spun around to see Lord Ozera sitting up now. His black hair was sticking up from where the soaked ale had started to dry. His cheek was red and his eyes were wide, but after a couple frantic breaths they squinted with a wince as his hand came up to his head. "Fucking hell, my skull is trying break open."

"That would probably be from shot four—hic—or five," Rose called over to him.

Chris looked over to the general vicinity of the room at no one in particular. "Would you stop bloody yelling. And who the fuck is playing music?"

/

When I told Lord Ozera that Vasilisa was looking for him he wanted to leave immediately. Rose on the other hand suddenly had a third wind and wanted to take some shots for the road. She only got one down before the cumulation of all the booze from the night seemed to finally rear its head. Her legs stopped working about half way back to the castle and Chris and I resorted to hoisting her up with our shoulders.

She tried to refuse, but after stumbling for the fourth time she gave in. Chris complained the whole way back to his room while Rose either laughed or tried to make an insult that didn't really land.

"Ughhh you're so dull even your horse would refuse those oats."

"What?"

I stayed quiet while the two of them went on like that, concentrating on our route and trying to avoid the least amount of foot traffic. Once we arrived at Chris' room he let out an exaggerated sigh of relief and tumbled towards the door. Just before stepping all the way in, he seemed to remember himself and turned around again.

"Are you—are you gonna be okay?" He looked down to Rose then back up to me.

"I got it. She's just a few halls down."

"No I mean—"

"I said I got it." I hadn't meant to sound harsh, but my control was slipping and I was anxious to get her to her room as quickly as possible.

"You heard him Barbara. The Constable can overcome all obstacles." Rose lifted her arm in the air like she was waving a baton.

Chris raised an eyebrow and I shook my head, neither of us having the energy to decipher that one. I was too tall without Chris beside me now, so I lowered her arm around my back and supported her weight from the other side. "C'mon, let's go."

She mumbled something to Lord Ozera but he was already inside his room. We took a few turns down the hall and something felt off. I realized she'd gone quiet and looked down to see if she'd passed out. But she was already looking back up at me. Staring again.

"What is it," I asked, hoping this time without Chris to interrupt she could tell me what she saw back at the bar.

She looked at me for a beat longer before a lazy grin spread across her face. "You fight good."

I tried not to let my disappointment show. "Mhmm."

"I bet you do other stuff good too." Her low giggle was interrupted by another hiccup.

"Stuff?" We were almost back to her room.

"Come to think of it, you'd probably leave em banjaxed after a good bullin."

Were those even real words?

"Not that I'm complaining. What filly wouldn't enjoy a good cucumber flapjack from a mucker like you."

I pressed open her door and guided her towards the bed. "It's been a while since I've worked in a kitchen."

"Aw what a shame," she laughed as she plopped down on top of her blankets. "The poor lasses are being deprived."

"I doubt they care." I was thoroughly confused now, but was done with my task so I was clear to leave. I turned to go when Rose's hand shot out to my arm. I turned back to see her still lying on the bed, a small beam of light from the bedroom door streaking across her dark face. I stood still, not sure what she wanted while simultaneously summoning the will power to flee while I could.

"You're alright, Belikov," she yawned and let go of my arm, falling further back onto the bed. "For a Coimheach."

I was stunned. For a moment I wasn't sure if I'd heard her right. "What? What did you say?" Now my control had completely vanished and the desperation in my voice was clear. But my questions went unanswered. She had already fallen asleep.

A/N: Thanks for reading :)