"Rose would have known what to pack," Lissa said with a sad sigh as she looked around her bedroom at Court, clothes littering almost every surface. It had been a little over three months since Rose's funeral, yet she was never far from Lissa's thoughts. Today, Lissa was packing for college, and choosing what to take was proving difficult.
After Tatiana's funeral, the Royal Council started the arduous task of investing a new monarch. A complicated process involving each Royal family council deciding on a nominee, then each applicant being subjected to a variety of speeches, votes, and tests, last week they had coronated Ariana Szelsky as their new Queen.
Lissa had been on tenterhooks throughout the process. As the only remaining Dragomir, she didn't have a family council, hence could not run. Not that she'd wanted to. But since permission to attend a human university had been granted by their former Queen, it wasn't certain their new monarch would still allow it. As it turned out, Queen Ariana had no issue with Lissa and Christian attending Lehigh, which is what found Lissa standing in her bedroom, trying to work out what to take with her.
"You'll want some cute outfits for parties, plus stuff to wear to your classes," Tasha Ozera suggested, gathering up tops and jeans and holding them up for inspection before folding them and placing them in one of the several suitcases open on Lissa and Christian's bed. A frequent visitor at the Dragomir townhouse these days, Tasha was happy to help pack, even if it disappointed her that Christian and Lissa would soon be leaving Court. "Did they end up deciding who Christian's Guardian will be?"
"We're due to find out today. Christian requested Eddie Castile, but nothing has been confirmed," Lissa replied while trying to decide whether she needed two pairs of espadrilles, or whether one would suffice.
"Do you think they'd give him an active Guardian role?" Tasha asked, sounding mildly disapproving.
"Well, he's wasted guarding at Court. Besides, Christian likes him and he'd rather Eddie than a stranger," Lissa replied. She knew Christian was only getting a Guardian because he would be on an unwarded campus, and since they'd be living together, his Guardian would boost her protection. Still, it would take Christian some getting used to a Guardian after so many years without, so it made sense to have someone he already knew.
Her Guardians were a given; Celeste had followed her to Court from St. Vladimir's and now would continue with her to Lehigh, her other Guardian being the newly re-instated Guardian Belikov. It had taken time for the Guardian Council to acknowledge that Dimitri was again Dhampir, then even longer to create the paperwork necessary to re-establish his Guardian status. However, for the last month, Dimitri had once again served as Lissa's primary Guardian.
"How's he going?" Tasha asked, her thoughts going in a similar direction to Lissa's. "Any change?"
"Not really," Lissa replied, meaning not at all. No one expected Belikov would be the same man after his restoration, but it was hard to accept the man he had become. Never particularly social, except with Rose, now Dimitri was solely focused on his duty. His life routinized to the minute, he spent twelve hours a day guarding, three hours working out, and one hour at church, waking each day to repeat the same process. Once a fortnight he'd take a day off to do his washing and phone his family, the rest of his day off spent in one of the Guardian gyms.
The workouts were certainly paying off. If Dimitri's body had been good before, it was absolutely smokin' now, Tasha thought to herself. She hadn't believed Dimitri could get any more buff, but she'd been wrong. Not that it did her any good.
"Are you nearly finished packing?" Christian asked, wandering into the room where Lissa was still sorting what to take and what to leave behind. He refrained from rolling his eyes when he noticed his aunt sitting on the bed next to Lissa's suitcases. She seemed to be here all the time, these days. He knew she was trying to be a friend to Liss since she'd so recently lost Rose, but he suspected the six-foot-seven-inch Guardian downstairs held at least as much appeal to Tasha as his girlfriend. Every time she was here, Tasha would try to coax Dimitri into conversation, only to be met with monosyllabic answers. He wasn't rude, just not interested in engaging in any conversation with her that was not work-related. He was a little more relaxed when it was just him and Lissa, but it was a far cry from the way he'd been when Rose was alive.
"Getting there," Lissa said, allowing Christian to put his arm around her and kiss her temple. She was having one of her down days. Packing for college was a rite of passage. Rose should have been a part of it.
"I have some good news," Christian said, noting Lissa's despondence. "Guardian Croft just called, and they've allocated Eddie as my Guardian. He's still on probation, so will be supervised by Belikov and Matthews, but he'll be in the van when we leave tomorrow."
"That is good news," Lissa replied, finally finding something to smile about.
"Also, I ran into Guardian Hathaway while I was out. She asked me to pass on her regards and gave us her best wishes for Lehigh."
Lissa nodded. With Ariana Szelsky claiming the throne, her brother, Lord Szelsky, had been elevated to Prince. This necessitating he stay at Court, his long-term Guardian, Janine Hathaway, was now a regular fixture in the Moroi capital. Christian and Lissa hadn't run into her all that often, but they always acknowledged one another when they did. Janine must be suffering today, too. Had things gone differently, Rose would also be packing, ready to start at Lehigh.
Court proving too small for the two of them, Abe had wrapped up his affairs, and a week or two after Rose's funeral he'd departed Court with no firm plans to return. With Court now Janine's home base, it was for the best, Lissa believed. It was just too painful for Rose's parents to see one another, given their loss and the circumstances surrounding it. Mr. Mazur was better back wherever it was he came from, so Janine could try to heal.
"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you and help you settle in?" Tasha asked the couple, interrupting Lissa's thoughts. She'd suggested it more than once, intent on sharing this with them if she could. "I can catch a bus back—it's honestly no trouble."
Christian knew Lissa didn't want Tasha accompanying them to Lehigh, so quickly said, "Thanks, anyway, but this is something we want to do alone. We want it to be just us. The start of our new chapter together. I'm sure you understand."
Tasha looked as though she didn't understand, yet appreciated her presence was not desired as Christian and Lissa headed off to college.
"Mr. Mazur? Abe? It's Adrian Ivashkov calling. I wanted to talk to you about…"
"Who really murdered your great-aunt?" Abe interjected. It had been months since Rose's funeral, yet he'd been expecting this call. He wasn't the only one who knew Rose was incapable of murdering the Moroi Queen; it stood to reason Tatiana's nephew was one of the first to question it.
"Precisely," Adrian replied, not beating around the bush. "I knew Rose. As a spirit wielder, I could see her aura. I know she didn't murder Aunt Tati, which means someone else did."
This wasn't news to Abe. Still, he was prepared to hear the Royal Lord out. "My daughter is gone. Someone framed her for murder. We both know she didn't do it, so tell me what you think."
"Aunt Tati was murdered with a Guardian stake. A distinctive stake. Now the murderer could have lucked out and just happened upon a Guardian who possessed a recognizable decorative stake, but that's unlikely. Since Tatiana was murdered with Rose's stake, it's probable that it was someone who knew she had a spare that she didn't use, yet was easily identifiable."
Abe said nothing, agreeing with Adrian's deductions—early on he'd arrived at the same conclusion himself.
"It had to be someone close enough to know that Rose didn't use that stake," Adrian continued. "I mean, I was Rose's boyfriend for a little while, and I would be unable to point out her normal stakes if a dozen were put in front of me. Plus, if either of her graduation stakes went missing, she would have known immediately. But the murderer didn't use either of those. They used one she might not have immediately noticed missing."
Abe already knew the significance of that stake, and why Rose chose never to carry it.
"I agree with everything you're saying," Abe said, his voice giving nothing else away.
Adrian was unsure just how far to go with his suspicions, given he had no proof other than his gut and some admittedly nebulous aura readings.
"I can't point fingers, but one person seems off. I have nothing to go by other than instinct, but I think it's worth looking into Tasha Ozera. Something about her strikes me as insincere."
Abe said nothing, yet his anger spiked hearing the Moroi Lord's words. Like Adrian, he'd identified Tasha Ozera as his primary suspect. While he was yet to figure out how she'd managed it, he was certain Tasha had murdered or caused the murder of Queen Tatiana. What he'd yet to establish is why she'd framed his daughter.
"That's quite a declaration," Abe said. "You don't have any proof?"
"None," Adrian admitted. "But something about her is just… off. It might be spirit or just intuition. But I am almost certain that if she didn't do it herself, then she had someone murder Tatiana. I have been catching up with her regularly, and the more we speak, the more certain I am."
"Does she have any idea you suspect her?" Abe asked, the start of an idea forming.
"I don't believe so. I've been playing it low key."
"Keep doing that," Abe counseled. "If she is the one responsible for Her Majesty's demise, it is imperative she has no clue we suspect her. I will look into things from my end. Just keep an eye on her, and keep me informed."
Once Adrian had hung up, Abe looked to Pavel, who had been privy to the entire conversation. "It's her. I know it is, and Ivashkov does, too. We need to find out how and why. And then she will pay."
Lord, now Prince Szelsky relocating to Court was both a blessing and a curse. Safe, in terms of guarding, the additional time not tending to her charge left Janine Hathaway with far too many hours for contemplation. Just when she wanted to throw herself into her work and forget, they needed her duty less than ever.
Croft had been understanding when she'd requested additional shifts. Even walking the wards was better than lying in her Guardian dorm room, contemplating what she'd lost. Because it was hard to speak to anyone about how she felt. There was the guilt about missing Rosemarie's formative years, then the shame about how she'd behaved when they reconnected. While things had, admittedly, improved in the few months when Rosemarie returned to the academy, then graduated, all Janine could think of was the many times she wished she'd done things differently. How she wished she'd been Rosemarie's mother.
As a Guardian, she should have known better. You can lose colleagues, friends, family at any time. They trained her from the aft to knowthat. Yet somehow, she'd never imagined losing Rosemarie. Janine would pass, and her daughter would survive her. That was how things should be. That it hadn't gone that way was incomprehensible. And now living, knowing her daughter didn't, was unbearable.
Choking down a sob, Janine reached for her cell. Dialing the familiar digits, she rang the only person she felt comfortable speaking with about her loss. Because, on some level at least, she knew they felt it too.
"Alberta? Is this a good time?" Janine asked, her voice trembling.
"Janine—it's always a good time," Alberta responded, hearing the distress in her friend's voice.
"I'm sorry to call. It's just that Princess Dragomir is leaving for college tomorrow. It's the start of a whole new chapter of her life. Rosemarie should have been a part of that. How can life keep going without my baby girl being a part of it?" Janine moaned, dissolving into tears as Alberta did her best to console her.
"You leave with the Princess for college tomorrow," Reverend Father Grigorescu remarked, sitting beside the tall Russian Guardian who'd been a daily fixture in his church for the last few months. Since his restoration, Guardian Belikov had barely missed a day. Not much of a talker, over the months Guardian Belikov had slowly opened up to the priest, disclosing some of his experiences during his time as one of the undead. Convinced that his soul was beyond redemption thanks to all he'd done while Strigoi, Father Grigorescu disagreed, counseling Dimitri that God would not punish someone for acting in a soulless way when their humanity had been forcibly ripped from them. It was what Dimitri did now that mattered, he argued.
While he knew the young man remained unconvinced, part of what he'd said seemed to have resonated. Belikov was now committed to spending the rest of his life being the best Guardian he could be, living then eventually giving his life as penance for what he'd done while one of the undead. He'd admitted before he was turned, he'd hoped it might be possible to balance life as a Guardian alongside a life of his own. He'd found love and hoped to share a life with a partner. Someone to call his own. Now he intended to right his wrongs through dedicated service, no matter what the personal cost.
"Yes," Dimitri confirmed. They were sitting in their usual place to one side of the church. Timing his visits when the sacred space was almost always empty, the hour he allocated to speak with Father Grigorescu, and God, was the most peaceful time of Dimitri's day. At first, he'd resented the priest's presence and the kindly meant intrusion on his thoughts and prayers. Yet over time, he'd grown to appreciate the man's company and his steadfast view that no sinner was unredeemable in the eyes of the Lord. Even though Dimitri could not believe it, it was comforting to know that Father Grigorescu did. Maybe there was some chance he could atone for what he'd done?
It was Father Grigorescu who had convinced Dimitri to contact his family, serving as the intermediary who rang the Belikova home, informing Olena of her son's restoration. For two weeks he continued to call, passing information back and forth between mother and son, all the while assuring the young man his family still loved and cared for him. Eventually, Dimitri agreed to speak with his mother directly. Dimitri would now call Baia once a fortnight, so his family would not worry, but the priest knew the phone calls bothered him. Like everything else, he was doing it for them, not him. Guardian Belikov felt he deserved nothing, so this was just another part of a life reduced to obligation.
All hope that the young Guardian would find peace was lost after Guardian Hathaway Jr. passed. If Guardian Belikov thought he was beyond saving before, it was nothing compared to his sentiments after the young Guardian's funeral. Dimitri said of all the many deaths on his hands, he felt Rose's the most keenly. He was adamant that Rose Hathaway was dead because of him. He maintained no one should ever forgive him, and he was unprepared to forgive himself.
"I hope you'll continue to attend church when you can? There's St. Nicholas Russian Orthodox Church in Bethlehem. 980 Bridle Path Road, so not too far from the campus. They are human, so don't know about our kind, but I rang Reverend Breckenridge and told him to look out for you," Reverend Father said. Of the many souls he'd met during his long journey of faith, Dimitri Belikov was certainly the most troubled. It was understandable. To have memories of such destruction yet having been powerless at the time to stop himself must be horrific. And while he'd only alluded to it, Reverend Grigorescu was sure there was more to what occurred between Dimitri and the Hathaway lass. They'd both seemed so vulnerable—so deeply wounded in the aftermath of Belikov's restoration. He honestly hoped Reverend Breckenridge could help this wayward soul. Because if anyone needed divine intervention, it was Guardian Belikov.
"Thank you, Reverend Father," Dimitri muttered, surprised anyone thought his soul was worth saving. Other than his family, everything, and everyone, he truly loved was gone. While he could now absolve himself of the guilt about losing Ivan, he knew had it not been for him, Rose would be alive today. He still loved her—he knew that now. It had taken her death for him to realize just what she meant to him. And now he knew it was too late.
Still, it was a relief to know there was somewhere near the college where he could continue to speak to God. Every day he prayed for the souls of those he'd taken, and he would continue to do so. But more than anything, he prayed for an afterlife. An afterlife where, if even for a moment, he might see Rose once again. No matter how brief their encounter, he needed to tell her he loved her. That he always had. That he always would.