Whatever my father did for a living, it paid well. If it wasn't evident in the way he dressed – well-tailored suits in, as far as I'd seen, every color and fabric – it become very clear in the way he traveled.

Mazur wasn't a royal surname. So, I was fairly surprised to learn that the guardians accompanying us weren't an Academy-derived escort but his own personal guard. I suppose it made sense. The academy wasn't going to send a detail of this size for some non-royal and his rejected dhampir daughter.

"Our society has an interesting way of allotting guards," he mused when I'd marveled at the realization. "Despite what you've learnt at the academy, there are plenty of options beyond allowing our government to control your assignment… especially when there's enough money involved." He winked, emphasizing his words.

I suppose it was comforting to learn that, if our world rejected me from guardianship after all, there were always ways for me to serve Lissa.

As if sensing my thoughts, Abe amended himself.

"You, however, are going to make it the traditional route," he smirked.

"And why is that?"

"Because no one underestimates my daughter."

And if Abe's small army of guardians hadn't tipped me off to his wealth, my jaw dropped as we were lead into the comfort of a private jet.

Sure, private jets were pretty common in Moroi society. Each royal family was sure to own at least one amongst themselves, more in the larger families. It was convenient to be able to install sunlight-filters, ensure privacy, and provide for the comforts most royal Moroi were used to.

But, come on.

This one seemed to be tailor-made for the man, quite like his suits. With long couches in bright turmeric yellow arranged facing each other, the jet felt more comforting and luxurious than the jet I had once been on with the Dragomirs.

I settled into the couch directly opposite Abe's. A pretty, young flight attendant, eyeing me with disdain as I slumped in my seat, moved to place an ornate silver tea pot with several cups in front of him. The cups were decorated with layered circles in blue, white, and black that came together to form an eye shape. Interesting.

My father was conversing in hushed Turkish with Pavel, the head of his guardian detail. Pavel came off as a kind, caring man but I had no doubt, especially with Abe's standards, that he was deadly in battle.

When I detected a pause in their conversation, Abe leaning over to pour himself more tea, I cleared my throat.

"So about my arrangements to enter St. Basil's," I started. "I was thinking… I don't really want to enter the school with the name of a disgraced novice who kidnapped the last Dragomir heir. And, while I'm not entirely stoked on the fact you chose this time of my life to show up as my father… Well, I was wondering if I could enter as Rose Mazur?"

Abe's grin split from ear to ear. Next to him, Pavel softened, taking in the beam on his boss's face.

"I would treasure that, dear," Abe responded.

Soon thereafter, Alexei sank into a chair across the aisle as we leveled off in the sky. Out of the window, I watched Missoula grow smaller beneath us, the mountains rising around to consume it.

"You've made him go soft," Alexei quipped.

Abe whipped his head towards him, narrowing his eyes.

"Watch yourself, young man." It was clear that it wasn't so much a threat, but he still held firm.

Alexei, it seemed, was afraid of nothing and actually had a personality underneath his work mask. I remarked just as much to him about the latter.

"Mazur borrowed me from Ivan to retrieve you and, as far as I can tell, I've completed that duty. I'm a free man 'til home," he said, stretching his legs up onto the table in front of him.

"With that attitude," my father chastised as Pavel smacked a rolled up paper at Alexei's feet, "Maybe I'll use you for a few more favors. I'm sure Ivan wouldn't mind."

The younger guardian turned his grin on me. "That's why they sent me," he said, addressing my earlier comment about his sass. "Even if it meant leaving my students without mentors for the week, they sent me because they thought we would get along better… that I'd be more convincing to get you home than silent and deadly Dimitri."

I snorted, covering up a flare of anxiety that, maybe, this mentor was going to be the real challenge. "And here I thought it was because you're built like the hulk."

"Thanks."

"Was it a compliment?" I asked rhetorically. We both knew the answer.

I was fairly curious about Alexei's stature. Strength, no doubt, played an advantage while fighting Strigoi, but I couldn't imagine he was very lithe on his feet. With the undead having such superior speeds and reflexes, we trained for years to try and close that gap. I couldn't see where the extra bulk came in handy.

Regardless, I left the conversation at that, allowing them to shift back into planning logistics.

I made myself comfortable in my seat, hoping to close my eyes for a bit of a nap. My brief interim at the academy hadn't been enough to switch back to the nocturnal schedule.

After what I could only hope was long enough to get us to whatever ocean we'd be flying over, a pulse of emotions make their way through the bond, knocking me from sleep. I suppose it was comforting to know, for sure, that it still worked even as the distance between us became greater.

Nostalgia. Nervousness. Questioning. Excitement. Her feelings were all over the place, flowing into me in more of a jumble than a neat succession.

I was conscious of a the pull before I was "sucked" into her head. It was as though we were one person now, seeing and feeling in unison.

Dinner had just finished up, making me think my exhaustion must have gotten the better of me and allowed for some sleep, considering we'd left the Academy around breakfast. Lissa was exiting the commons, those around her flitting between there and their residences for rest, homework, and, most likely, socialization.

Rather than follow the masses, Lissa was headed for the small chapel on campus.

The Russian Orthodox religion was predominant in Moroi society. Growing up, Lissa had always attended with her family. When they had died, she had done so more wholeheartedly. Her clear intent to go there was interesting, considering that services were only held on Sundays and significant holidays. But maybe, just maybe, she wanted to make up for time lost on the run.

When she entered the building, however, it was clear that she wasn't visiting to pray for my salvation or even her own safety. Instead, she glanced around furtively, confirming that the building was empty. Near the back of the chapel, she opened an almost unnoticeable doorway which swing open to reveal a small, rickety stairway.

A sense of calm familiarity filled her as she climbed up into the small attic. She took in the lightening sky as it came through the large stained-glass window, gems of color cast onto the floor, dust swirling through the beams.

This was a regular hideaway for her, I realized with a start.

The anxiety in her seemed to wash away as she climbed into the window seat. The tinted window provided enough protection for her to sit in the warmth of the sun, wrapped in positive, radiant color.

We're going be fine, she told herself. Forget the rumors, forget Mia. Rose will watch over me. Everything will work out.

Her faith in me never abided. But who was Mia?

She was struck from her mantra when a low voice rose from behind her.

"That's my seat."

Her heart pulsed, anxiety spiking in her chest where it had just subsided. "Who is it?"

An unexpected face stepped out from behind a shelf, washed in the dim light.

Dark, messy hair. Eyes that, once he'd stepped within arm's reach, she could see were the palest shade of blue. A taunting smirk plastered to his face.

It was Christian Ozera.

She had almost forgotten about him. I had too.

Suddenly, and I expected not for the last time, I wish I was there to help her. More so, I wished our bond could work both ways. That way, she could hear me pleading with her to get out of there. He's no good.

"What are you doing here?"

"I come here to be alone. You were the last person I expected to interrupt that. Had enough of the spotlight already? "

She got up to leave, but Christian was standing in her way. "I didn't come here to be mocked, so if you could just move, I'll be on my way."

"What, can't handle the pressure of so many adoring fans? They were just waiting for your return. Or, can you not handle that they weren't? You were expecting to come back and run straight into Aaron's arms, only to find them occupied with a shiny new toy."

"Get out of my way," she said through gritted teeth, shoving him back to make her way past.

"Hey," he said, voice suddenly becoming softer, as if a new person had taken his place. "How was it?"

"How was what?" she snapped. "My glorious return?"

"The real world."

She was caught off guard by the question, his voice genuinely filled with curiosity. "It was the best," she conceded. "Being normal… nothing different. I miss that."

"Me too," he confirmed.

Even if his demeanor had turned around, it didn't shake Lissa's bitterness that he'd interrupted, and berated, her in what should have been her time alone.

"Can't get enough of being alone out there?" she asked, gesturing out the window. "Had to take over my special room too?"

Christian's eyes narrowed and he leaned against the bookshelf he'd been hidden behind earlier. "I have a lot more to prove that you do," he remarked, voice taking on more of its earlier bite.

That's when it hit Lissa.

Christian's parents, years ago, had been hunted down when they willing turned Strigoi. Ever since, the event had cast a dark shadow on the entirety of the extended Ozera family, and most of all on Christian. But Strigoi couldn't step foot on holy ground.

"Is that why I always saw you at mass? To look good? Prove you aren't your parents?"

He shrugged, but it was obviously true.

"I'll leave you to it," she conceded, moving to leave.

"Wait," he said, catching her wrist. His I-own-the-world smile had faded, eyes surprisingly soft and empathetic. He was so… warm, she realized. "You don't have to go. We can take joint custody, make up a schedule, or something. I've heard plenty of whispers today, you don't have to go through that alone."

Christian, of all people, could understand.

He hesitated for a moment, before adding. "I'm really sorry about Rose."

She paused to study him, thanking him quietly. His warm fingers let go of her wrist as she glanced down to where they had lingered. He didn't seem like the worst company.

I had to disagree, but I pulled myself out of her head, jerking into my own realm of consciousness. I made a mental note to get Abe to find out her email address. There was no way this one-way bond would suffice for communication, especially when it was enabling her free-reign to hang out with Christian Ozera.

From the couch across from me, Pavel gave me a questioning look. My father was fast asleep beside him, looking only as vulnerable as he probably ever allowed himself to be. I simply smiled back, closing my eyes to attempt more rest.