Hopeless Wanderers

by megamorr

She was a sanctioned knight, he a mysterious stranger. Two unlikely allies joined forces to protect the Dragomir line, but what happens when their loyalties are tested and when one moonlit battle alters the young warriors' lives indefinitely. A medieval VA tale.

54. Chapter 53

Part 2 Chapter 53

RPOV

Songs: Sweet Ophelia by Zella Day, Awake My Soul Mumford & Sons, Wildewoman by Lucius, Next to Me by Imagine Dragons

I took a sharp inhale through my nose and tried to slowly let it out, but the staccato sound of it gave me away.

"Am I hurting you?"

"N-no. It's fine. I can handle it." When this started, I thought it would feel good. I was so happy to finally be spending this time together, but the tightness of it was almost unbearable.

"Handle it…?"

A squeaky hum was all I could muster this time as my fingers gripped my thighs. I was trying to keep my eyes open, but the next movement had them screwing shut with a wince.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry," Lissa sighed. "I'll make the braids a little looser."

A satisfied groan escaped me as her vice-like hold on me finally eased up. It had probably only been fifteen minutes or so of Lissa's hair-grooming, but it felt like hours. There was still some pulling, but at least my teeth didn't feel like they would crack from clenching.

"No offense Liss, but if they run out of techniques for interrogating prisoners you'd be a great alternate."

"Exaggerate much," she huffed.

"Seriously. If we wouldn't be putting some sick arse out of the job, we could just start with you and bypass the other processes completely. Imagine the time saved."

"Processes? What processes," she actually looked mildly concerned now. "We are still joking right?"

Of course I was kidding, but I gave a dramatic pause just to make her squirm. When I finally winked she let out a small, relieved breath.

"Well in that case, what about the bald prisoners? There seems to be a hole in your brilliant plan."

I looked at her in the mirror. "You're creative. You and those boney fingers would think of something."

She tugged on a lock of hair, jerking my head back. I squealed and she tilted her head, looking at me with doe eyes. "Oops. My boney fingers slipped."

We both burst into giggles, the aftermath ending with Lissa tsking me for jostling too much while she rolled another strand.

With what I'd come to terms with at the cliffs the previous day, I decided to seek her out and have a proper talk. It didn't last long. I knew we wouldn't come to an agreement, not fully, but we both knew we didn't want there to be any tension between us. One thing we could always agree on, is we needed each other. That need would be ever-changing, whether it was because of the bond or because of this small, dwindling family, but we had to make an effort to be on each other's side. A united front was more important than anything else right now with all these suspecting eyes on us. I also knew Lissa didn't have malintent, she never did, as much as she knew my issues with her hiding Spirit use.

We made plans to get ready for the ball in her quarters and I'd somehow been convinced to let her tidy up my hair.

Things went quiet for a while and I allowed my mind to just go blank. I watched in the mirror as her hands moved into my hair. I would catch glimpses of them shifting. The skin becoming more tanned and rough, but the actions more gentle. Someone else's hands performing the same action, but in a way that lulled and calmed me. Distant voices echoed in my head as my eyes drifted shut.

"Soooo is that a yes?"

"Nakhal'naya devushka."

Something strong and warm was wrapped around my side instead of the cold wooden arms of Lissa's parlor chair.

"Stay still…"

"Yes sir…"

A smile inched across my face.

"She comes first."

A more serious tone tried to push away the playfulness, but the voices wouldn't let it.

"You know it's unfair for you to ask me anything when you're laying there like that."

"Maybe that was my plan all along."

I hadn't meant to, but a small hum escaped me, the comfort from the ambiance of that moment sinking me further into it.

"What are you thinking about," Lissa quietly asked.

My eyes reluctantly opened to see her slim, pale hands in my hair again. I don't know why I felt disappointed by that.

"Nothing." I smiled at her. She didn't look convinced, but didn't press me. We went back to sitting quietly as she set pearl pins into some of the finished braids.

Voices echoed in my mind again, not nearly as far away as the others.

"I should go."

"Is that what you want?"

"No."

I hadn't told Lissa about what had happened between Dimitri and me. It's not that I didn't want her to know, but I wasn't sure what to think of it. And I sure as hell didn't know what was going through Dimitri's head—that was a difficult feat on a normal day. Now, the fact that he had kissed his Queen's sister I had no idea how panicked he was. I knew how seriously he took his role here and the last thing I wanted was to complicate that.

But the way he'd looked at me…

"I'll see you tomorrow, Rose."

Heat inched up my neck and I gripped my thigh again to repress a shiver.

"There, all set. What do you think?" Lissa beamed at my reflection in the mirror.

I had to hand it to her, it looked pretty remarkable.

I gently ran my fingers along the intricate braids pulling half of my hair up away from my face. The pearls sat nicely along the plats in a pattern that almost looked like a small crown. "It's lovely, Lissa. Thank you," I whispered, still admiring the details of her handiwork.

"I'm glad you like it," her hands squeezed my shoulders as she leaned down to press her cheek against mine, "because it's going to look perfect with your dress."

"Liss, I told you I have a dress," my shoulders dropped, thinking about the many atrocities Daniela had forced me into.

"And I told you I had one made for you weeks ago." Her voice had a sing-song note as she pushed off me and skipped to the other room.

I sat and admired the braids a minute longer, and as my eyes trailed over the details in the mirror I swore I saw a blurred face with brown eyes next to mine.

"Are you coming," Lissa called after me.

I blinked and the image was gone. I pushed out of the chair and turned away from the ghosts of my past. When I walked into the parlor, I was almost jolted back by the sight of the dress in front of me. It was the grandest thing I had ever seen. The white skirt was full, making a slightly rounder shape out of the trim that was etched in thick gold filigree. The bodice was slimmer, but most of the white fabric was covered by the gold threaded designs. The artistry of it was elegant, but somehow still commanded power. It exuded a regal presence.

"Don't worry, Rose," Lissa hummed. "That one's mine."

I reluctantly pulled my eyes away from the dress to glance at her. "Liss. It's incredible. I've never seen anything like it," I breathed. "You'll look so beautiful."

"You don't think it's too much," she shyly looked at it.

I walked towards her and gently grabbed her hand. "Just enough."

She beamed at me, relief touching her features. "Thank you."

I couldn't wait to see her in it. I was so excited for her to put it on that I'd forgotten why she'd brought me there in the first place. Until she turned me around to face the other end of the room. There was no second-guessing, this one was mine.

Where Lissa's was grand and majestic, mine was much more simple—but still so so beautiful. The bright white fabric was stunning, something thinner than I'd ever seen before, delicate and alluring. There were no frills or layers, just a slim silhouette that slightly curved in at the hips where a thin, ornate belt hung down the front. The sleeves were longer than Lissa's, but where hers were etched in gold fabric from the collar to her elbows, mine swooped down off my shoulders ending at my wrists. I walked closer to it, admiring some of the finer details I hadn't noticed at first glance.

"I know what you're thinking," Lissa said at my back.

I hummed, partially distracted by the dress I now wanted to live in.

"White was a bold choice given your track record."

I laughed. She wasn't wrong. "Maybe. You know a Dhampir girl like me can't be trusted around food and wine."

She walked closer and picked up one of the sleeves. There was thin gold stitching around the edges of the hem, I could see bits of the design subtly placed across the collar and waist as well. "I wanted us to match," she said just above a whisper. "I think it will make a statement. The right one."

I turned to her, a wave of emotion washing over me. Then, a bit of nervousness crept its way in. "But aren't you worried about the others? What they'll think," I asked. This feeling was different from the one I'd been struggling with over the past two weeks. Not as much anxiety for myself and my position, but moreso what this could possibly do to Lissa. How this statement would irk others here that didn't see us as equals, and might result in backlash at my sister. It meant so much to me that she was willing to risk that, but I wasn't sure if it was worth it for her to bear.

This time, she grabbed my hand and gave me a knowing look. "You tell me."

She nodded, giving me permission. I took a breath and tried to find the way to our bond. I concentrated on the feeling I'd had in the council room and focussed on a point to ground myself to. It took some effort, but when I finally felt her I could sense two things. Yes, the smallest hint of worry was there, deep deep down—but most of all, there was pride. It outshone anything else that threatened to rise. Pride for me, standing by her side.

I was at risk of getting choked up. And as a watery grin stretched across her face, it was obvious Lissa was too. I snatched her other hand and shook us like ragdolls until we felt silly again. "C'mon. If we show up all red-faced and puffy, Natalie will never forgive us."

Lissa jerked her chin high and pushed her shoulders back, giving me an impressive Queen Tatiana impersonation. I chuckled, and we both scattered to our designated dresses.

It took some time, both of us wanting to be as gentle as possible getting into the fine gowns. We probably should have had a team of people helping wrangle Lissa into hers, but she wanted us to be alone and had sent the servants off to help with other preparations. When we were finishing up the last details of laces and adjustments, a thought needled its way into the forefront of my mind. Using the bond again this night, brought me back to that council room and the reason I'd gone searching for it then.

"Hey, Liss?"

"Yeah," she looked up at me from my side as she fastened my belt.

"Have you—" I took a second to search for the right words. "Have you noticed any changes in your powers lately?"

She ran her fingers down the length of the belt before lightly dropping it to the front of my dress. "How do you mean?"

I thought back to those same delicate fingers, tightly gripping into the strong, wooden table with rage as it began to shake underneath them. "The council meeting. With Natasha and Victor." Her complexion slightly paled. "I don't know exactly how to describe it, or if anyone else noticed, but it just seemed like…more. I mean…I don't know, what do you think? Has Adrian ever said anything about the power being like that?"

She looked inward for a beat, no doubt recalling the moment I was referring to. "I—I didn't ask him. It hasn't been like that before, or again since. So I thought maybe it was just…a surge."

She wasn't looking at me, and I didn't want her to feel ashamed or like she had to hide it. "So, what did it feel like then? Were you scared?"

"No," this time she did look up, a deliberate stare hardening her features. "I felt powerful."

/

Lissa and I scurried through the back door of the church. They were already waiting for us so there was no time for any last-minute pep talk to dispel jitters and nerves. Probably a good thing since it wasn't really my strong suit anyways. As we neared the front pew I patted Liss on the back and whispered a quick, "Good luck," before finding my place. There were only four of us there—five including the priest who was now waiting with Lissa.

She had planned this intimate ceremony, wanting to keep it private to just our close family. I knew part of it was to appease Christian, he wasn't one for large spectacles and ceremonies, despite what his aunt had just coordinated in our home. But I also knew deep down this is what Lissa wanted too. Almost every part of our lives had been public, except for the few things that the two of us had managed to keep between ourselves. So to have such a special moment in her life be kept out of the public eye and away from anyone who might scrutinize it, I knew it meant a lot to her.

I walked past Natasha and Christian, the latter looking paler than usual. I tilted my head towards him and whispered, "What, did ya think she'd changed her mind?"

He just looked at me and let out a heavy breath. The small hint of relief as I took my place made me think maybe he really had thought we weren't going to show. The priest cleared his throat and flashed me a scolding glare—an expression I, for once, was very familiar with.

A smile tugged at the corner of Lissa's mouth and I gave her another small wink as the two of them entered the grand room. I quickly glanced around as the priest began singing a hymn and lighting a few candles on their way. It was really quite beautiful, not at all what I would have pictured for a ceremony between two Royal Morois. There were fewer candles lit than normal, concentrated to just where our small group was standing. It made the church feel more intimate and less consuming in the grandness of the room. I peeked over to catch Natasha grinning admiringly at Lissa as she walked closer, but when my gaze fell on Christian again I couldn't look away.

Every ounce of nervousness had completely fallen away, his expression reflecting pure adoration and love. The priest let go of Lissa's arm and she turned to face Christian, his eyes never once leaving her face. Not the grand dress, not the crown on her head that she'd soon share with him. Just her. I became so engrossed in the amount of love in the room that I didn't hear a word the priest said. Devotions were given, vows were exchanged, and the entire time I just watched as this man gazed at my sister with pure, unequivacoble love. The only other comparison I could really recall was that of Eric and Rhea. Their love—although undoubtedly true—was more of a warmth and companionship that had solidified over time. Small moments that symbolized what they meant to each other. A brush of their hands under the dinner table, a kind smile across the room, an arm resting over the other's shoulder as we watched the first snow. But this…every ounce of love he had for Lissa was laid bare for us four to see. It was the most I had admired Christian Ozera, and probably ever would. Then, as he reached for her hands, saying the last of the "I do's" the strangest thing happened. I looked closer at him, blinking a few times as the pale blue of his eyes somehow shifted to a warm brown. And for a moment, they were no longer looking at Lissa, but looking directly at me.

The sounds of whistling winter wind and a low, muffled voice purred in the distance, "I love you, Roza."

An applause broke out from Natasha and the priest, and I felt a jolt like I had left the room and was suddenly forced back in. The Moroi paramours leaned in to kiss and I remembered to clap as well, a cold breeze tickled the back of my neck. I looked behind me to see a shut door, a warm spring day tucked behind it. My hand came up to feel the remaining bit of cold still lingering on my skin.

"Rose," I turned around dropping my hand to look at my sister. Her smile was wide and her cheeks were tinged pink with excitement. "We did it. "

For the second time that night, I felt a sudden prick in my eyes, the pure happiness on Lissa's face tugging at me harder than I was prepared for. I squeezed her hands tightly and let a tear fall this time. "I'm so happy for you Liss. And Chris. Congratulations to the two of you."

She pulled me into a tight hug and turned to whisper into my hair. "That means the world to me. To us both."

I looked at Christian again as Lissa pulled back, and smiled at him. He nodded, letting me know he'd heard…and agreed.

Keeping to some traditions, we let the two newlyweds walk out hand in hand as Natasha and I trailed behind. I continued to watch them, Unable to hold in a stupid, giddy grin as they stared at each other more than the path they were walking on. I had nearly forgotten Natasha was beside me until she spoke, "Aren't they just," her voice was quiet, but I could tell she was feeling the same overwhelming joy that I was.

I nodded, still admiring the happy couple.

"I don't know about you, but they really are an inspiration."

I finally turned to her, curious what she considered inspiring. My attention prompted her to go on. "In our world, there never seems to be enough good. We are either creating or enduring. But to see those actually thriving…it makes it all worth it, you know?"

I considered her words for a moment. Again, I was thrown off that night by the actions of a Moroi, something I wasn't used to. If any other Moroi had said something like this, I might have been offended. In most cases, Dhampir struggles and Moroi struggles were not the same. But, when it came to Natasha I knew what she had to give up and what she had fought for in the past. Sexual conquests weren't the only thing Natalie enjoyed gossiping about when it came to our Ozera guest. And some of those things, as much as it pained me to admit, I admired very much.

I looked over to Lissa and Christian again as they shared a laugh. "I agree," I told Natasha. "It's worth everything."

After a moment, I could feel something shift and felt her gaze on me before I turned to find it. "I never really envisioned something like that for myself. My plans have always centered around other things." Her hand moved to brush against the scar on her face. I knew she wasn't searching for pity, her tone said as much, but I couldn't help think about what she could've been like before that horrific day. Maybe she was posh and the act had changed her for the better, or maybe she had always had this rebellious side that could've thrived even more in the eyes of the more conservative Moroi if she hadn't been marred with a reminder of their dark past. "But if something so wonderful as this were to grow from anywhere, I'm glad it's with them. I just know they will make a difference."

The more she spoke, the more I wondered if her always coming back to a political topic was an inherent part of her personality.

"And what about you," she asked.

"Hmm?" My eyebrows scrunched as I tried to read the curious look on her face.

"What do you hope to get out of your courtship?"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I stopped walking and stared her down. My reaction was too strong, I knew it was. I could feel emotions crackling from my stomach up to my chest without a rational way to push them down. Memories pushed in of brown eyes only closing when my lips finally met his. Strong, yet gentle hands helping me up when I fell during training for the umpteenth time. A calming voice bringing me out of my lowest lows. I wasn't sure why, but with one question all those moments suddenly felt exposed.

Natasha stopped walking as well, letting Chris and Lissa get a few meters ahead before turning to me again. "Well, now that we're family, I think it's only fair to ask." I waited for her to elaborate, but her next move was just a quick look down at my left hand. When my gaze followed hers, the crackling fizzed away.

"It is such a beautiful gesture," Natasha's voice was noticeably more quiet than before as we both looked at the pearl ring resting on my finger. "But is that enough?"

I didn't look up, my attention still fixated on Adrian's engagement ring as she whispered, "Will this path be the one that will make a difference?"

I continued looking down at my hand, recalling the moment Adrian had given it to me and trying to resurface what I'd felt in that moment. When I finally looked up again, I was alone—standing in an empty church with no witnesses other than the familiar walls, swallowing more of my secrets within them.

/

When I caught back up with the small party, it was easier to realign myself. Tonight wasn't about me. It wasn't even about who did or didn't come into our family. Lissa had taken extra effort to be sure of that. Not to take attention away from her new husband who hated the spotlight, or fall in line with Natasha's political agenda, but to show some of the most influential members of our society what our world could be—what it should be.

I began to follow behind my sister and her Ozera King Consort as we made our way to the courtyard entrance, but before we walked in Lissa turned to me, beckoning me to her other side. Natasha stiffened a bit, but didn't say anything. With a collective breath, we walked forward, making our grand entrance to the House Dragomir's Unity Ball.

The theme had been coined by Tasha, a chance to unite all the houses together in celebration of a union that would grow one of our society's oldest and most coveted families. I knew the danger of us being isolated not just because of the threats on our own lands but the greed and infringement it could entice from a smaller, power-hungry house. But I couldn't help but feel it was just another vainglorious Moroi coded event without any real agenda.

Lissa was making sure to change that.

One thing was for sure, it was an effective way to find out where certain Moroi stood. At first, the reactions were small: bright smiles dimming as they looked from Christian and Lissa over to me, a heavy gulp or small cough, the occasional grunt or whisper. Emotions warred inside me, anger and anxiety colliding. The battle between them was making me feel dizzy. Then I realized it wasn't only mine I was feeling. Sensing it as well, Lissa looked over to me, her brows raising in concern. I wasn't sure what to do, how to stop the bond from pulling us both in, so I reached down and grabbed Lissa's hand. She squeezed it tightly, and I could hear her voice as if she was speaking directly to me.

We've got this.

My eyes widened, shocked and amazed at how clearly I could finally hear her.

In the words of Rose Hathaway, sod 'em. Right?!

I laughed. A little because of my amazement, a little more because of the absurdity of what she was saying, but mostly because for the first time in a long time, I felt like I had my sister back. She laughed as well, carefree enough for our audience to see, and when we both turned back towards the crowd, this time I focussed on those who were rooting for us instead of against.

"Honored guests," Lissa's sweet voice held the regality her dress exuded. "We welcome you all," she glanced from Christian and Natasha to her left, to me at her right, "from our family to yours."

Applause broke out, my eyes jumping from one smiling face to another as they watched her captivate the room. We made our way to the focus of the courtyard and my earlier thoughts melted away as I finally took in the surroundings. Traditionally, Victor held our events in the main hall, but tonight on this mild spring evening we were celebrating in the center grounds of the castle. The open courtyard had been a favored place of mine during this time of year, but tonight it was breathtaking. A surge of Moroi magic had spread the moss and ivy to cover every inch of the walls and pillars, some of the greenery even spilling out onto the tables making it look like we were in the surrounding grounds of St. Vladimir's. An array of white and lilac wisteria blossoms dripped from the smaller trees—glass balls containing tea candles were hung from the branches by thin strands of thread giving them the appearance of floating orbs. Long wooden tables lined the room, but the middle was left open for mingling and dancing. It seemed a bit primitive compared to the grand Moroi events I'd been to in the Western Isles, but also had a nostalgic and magical ambiance that made you feel welcome and enchanted. A reminder of where our people came from.

"Hi," an excited voice tumbled into my ear. I turned to see Natalie as she wrapped her arm around mine. "What do you think? I have to admit the courtyard was Tasha's idea. She pointed out that most of the Moroi families had ballrooms more regaling than ours, but this courtyard would set us apart." Without a doubt she was right. If the Ivashkov palace was any indicator, there was no way we could compete with that grand scale. But there was one thing we had that they didn't, and that was our beautiful countryside. Natalie and Natasha had brought it here and I couldn't have been more proud to be part of the Dragomir family.

"I love it," I said in awe. Many Moroi had gathered to congratulate Lissa and Christian on their nuptials, so I took the opportunity to explore the party with my friend.

I was so enthralled with the green surroundings that it took Natalie complimenting my dress to finally notice hers as well. She looked beautiful and I told her as much. She beamed a bit and twirled her dark green skirt for the "full effect". Not long after, she told me she had met someone that apparently knew me and she was dying to prove them wrong.

"C'mon, we have to confront her. I told her there was no way someone as awe-inspiring as you would stoop so low to associate in her vicinity, but she insisted."

"Wow. Thank you, Nat. And also somehow a bit blunt, even coming from you." But I was biting my words as soon as Natalie brought me to her.

"Hello, Lady Hathaway," the silver-haired maiden cooed as she curtsied gracefully before us. Her slim, form-fitting dress matched the almost metallic color of her hair and I wasn't surprised in the least by the lack of modesty in her attire. Lana didn't exactly broadcast her promiscuous reputation back in the Western Isles, but she also never denied it when Iris brought it up.

"That's Princess Hathaway to you," Natalie chided.

Lana gracefully stood back up and looked at me with a pouty lip. "My apologies, Princess. I had no idea you were so esteemed these days. Never struck me as the type." Her grin stretched wide enough to show her fangs.

"If you think Rose won't bite your head off just because we are in a formal setting, then you obviously know nothing about her."

"On the contrary, I know she'd do worse than that. I have a hitch in my right side to prove it."

I thought back to the broken ankle and undoubtedly bruised hip I'd given her. "What, a healer couldn't fix you right up? I figured with all your 'high-end' connections you'd be good as new. Ready to continue on your merry, succubus way."

To my surprise, Lana let out an irritatingly high-pitched laugh. "Iris talked a big talk. But you were one of the few that actually walked." This time her smile unnerved me.

"Speaking of Iris, I assume she isn't here or else instead of gabbing away to me you're lips would be glued to her ass."

"Oh come on now, Rose," she purred. "Can't we let bygones be bygones? Besides, we both know that was more of Gwen's style, not mine."

I attempted to walk away, not feeling like being reminded of that life I'd tried to live in the Western Isles, but Lana latched onto my arm before I could get too far. I looked down at her lithe grasp, instincts from our last encounter egging me to strike. Until she said, "I admire you, Rose."

"Oh, that's wick!" The disbelief in my voice could be heard across the room. "You take me for a gobshite or is this you succumbing to boot-licking?" I sucked a breath through my teeth and shook my head. "How the high-and-mighty have fallen."

Her cocksure grin faded a little, but she persisted. "It's true," she let go of the flimsy grip on my arm to stand in front of me. "You stand up for what you want. You're not afraid to show who you are. You're beautiful," she wrapped a piece of her hair around her finger and tilted her head. "And you know how and when to use that beauty to your advantage." I rolled my eyes, not wanting to feed into her bullshit. "Don't deny it. Iris had been working that family for years, and all it took was one bat of your eyes to steal Adrian away to St. Vladimir's, along with her chances with him. Although I must commend you, you do have impeccable taste."

My eyes quickly darted around the room, unconsciously searching for a certain pair of brown eyes. I could sense some questions brewing from Natalie beside me, when another slightly less familiar face made an appearance. I hadn't really questioned why Lana was here, but it suddenly became comedically obvious.

"Ah, Princess Hathaway, I'd like you to meet my husband, Lord Ivashkov." I recognized the churlish, red-faced man as Adrian's cousin Remus—the one who coveted his prized chandelier more than anything on earth. And the repulsed look on his face as he glanced around the yard, told me that his fascination with decor had not changed.

"Yes, hello," he said indifferently.

"Dear," Lana nudged his uncharacteristically round belly before subtly taking a sip of wine, "this is the Dragomir Queen's sister."

"Hmm," he grunted, looking around the room before Lana jabbed him again and gave him a very stern look for someone her age. "Oh," he said with no recognition. "OH," he said with slightly more recognition. "Could you introduce us to your sister?"

Natalie groaned in annoyance beside me and asked if I'd like to go for a drink. The Moroi man huffed, perturbed by the affront, and hobbled away. I shook my head at Nat, declining the drink, but encouraged her to go on without me. She hesitated briefly, eyeing Lana one last time before leaving us.

"So, I see you've finally settled down." I shouldn't have been surprised. Though Moroi tended to age better than humans and even Dhampir, good looks didn't last forever. I guess I just never really thought Lana would humble herself enough to admit that.

"Yes, well it was finally time. And a good opportunity. His wife had just been trampled by a carriage and he was in need of a new bride. And who better to fill that position than me?" She raised a goblet to herself.

I turned to stand beside her, feigning to get a better look at the room but somewhat unnerved by her disregard for another woman's gruesome death. "I suppose so." After a moment, as much as she'd tortured me in the Western Isles, I still had to ask. "But doesn't it bother you? Coming second? Not only to his first wife but to all his materialistic habits? Adrian told me that the only thing he covets is his atrocious chandelier. Granted, it could've been an exaggeration, but Remus doesn't seem like the 'deep' type."

"Oh no, it's not an exaggeration," she hummed. "He's obsessed with that goddam thing." Then she leaned closer and brushed a piece of my hair back as she whispered into my ear. "But who's to say the integrity of that chandelier's restraints are everlasting? Maybe one day, when he's deep in admiration the chords will…snap," she said with a click of her tongue.

She stared at me a moment, her face mere inches from mine then burst into laughter again, taking a few steps away as she too admired the room, "Yes, Rose. I think he is the perfect first husband." Despite the dark tone of her voice, I couldn't help but grin.

"Speaking of husbands though," I looked toward her again as she took a sip from her goblet, one finger lifting from it to point across the room. "That Lord Ozera will make a fine Queen's Consort."

"He's taken," I said with validity watching my sister and Christian cross the room.

"They all are," she purred again, raising her brows at me over her cup. This time I didn't smile.

Not long after, I decided to wander a bit on my own. I indulged in a cup of wine and moved towards the tables to grab some of the delicious looking food. Every bit of it looked incredible. Where the other balls and Moroi dinners I'd attended, most of the food I didn't even recognize, but tonight there were loads of creamy cheeses, freshly baked bread that was still steaming from the oven, sliced meats with smells that made your mouth water, pitted and plump fruits that the earth users had obviously helped grow out of season, and individual bowls of rabbit stew to help warm the bellies of those who weren't used to the more tepid spring weather than that of St. Vladimir's.

I was plopping a few berries into my mouth when I spotted a friendly face. I grabbed a handful more and wrapped them in a cloth napkin along with a chunk of bread and walked over to one of the pillars lining the courtyard.

I leaned my back up against the cool stone and nudged my Guardian friend's shoulder with mine.

"How's it hangin', Hathaway," Mason grinned as I passed him the bread and opened the napkin of blackberries in my palm.

He dug in and I bit back a chuckle as a few specks of deep purple collided with the tan freckles across his cheek. "It's alright, I guess."

Mason let out a low huff. "It's alright she says. Well then, how about we trade places and you stand here like a stone statue all night while I parade around in a pretty dress?"

I pushed off the wall and swished my skirt around. "You like?"

Mason's eyes fixated on my chest until I smacked him firmly in the arm. He cleared his throat and took another bite of bread, finally answering me with a full mouth. "Not so bad, I guess," he wiggled his brows teasingly. "Though it would probably look better on me."

"You're thick as two short planks, you know that?" He laughed and finished off the berries before putting his back to the wall again.

"Who was that lash you were talking to over there with Nat? She looked like a real ride."

"I'd advise against that. She's already plotting her new husband's untimely death. I'd say she's psychotic, but that somehow doesn't fully cover it."

Mason thought about this for a moment, then shrugged. "I'd still buck er"

I shook my head and cursed under my breath, "Why am I always surrounded by eejits?"

"Har har har. So is that why you came over here, to insult me?"

"No," I smiled sweetly. "You looked hungry. Plus," I scooted beside him to look at the room, "I wanted to see if you'd heard any juicy gossip."

"Weeellll, since the lady was kind enough to feed me, I suppose I'm indebted to oblige," he smiled at me devilishly.

I stayed with him for a while as he told me about some of the more scandalous things he'd heard. Some of them were unsurprising, some had my jaw on the floor and wine spewing out my nose. One little sidenote, in particular, had my stomach curl.

"Ah, and there's the rumor about one Dhampir blade and a certain Moroi fella that has yet to be proven. I'll admit, I am a bit skeptical but some of the boys have their theories."

I looked over to Mason, his tone a bit suspicious. A Moroi man having a love affair with a Dhampir woman wasn't really that uncommon, but when he cocked his head in the direction of who he was referring to I was beginning to wonder if he'd snuck in some wine before his shift.

My mother was dressed in a typical Guardian uniform but was in the throng rather than on the outskirts with the others on duty. "Oh please, Mason. I asked for gossip, not flat-out absurdity."

"Oh really? And what's so absurd about your mum having a fella?"

"Have you met the woman," I raised my brows.

"True," he laughed. "But she had you, didn't she?"

I turned to watch her again, this time seeing Abe approach behind her. His hand lightly glided under her elbow, and instead of turning around and shoving a knee into his groin as I expected, she almost, kind of smiled at him.

We both shuddered—then, a tangible hush fell over the room and everything suddenly became tense. We looked towards Lissa, instincts kicking in as someone new approached her and Christian.

"Who in the seven hells is that," Mason asked as my nerves began to prick along the skin of my arms.

The regal woman was dressed in deep red, from the rich rubies adorning her crown to the full skirt gown trailing several feet behind her. She was flanked by four Guardians, and I could spot another three mixed in the crowd watching her intently. Moroi began to scatter away from the happy couple, feeding into the charged energy of the room. As Lissa turned to face her I felt the unreasonable urge to grab her hand again.

"That's Queen Tatiana Ivashkov," I quietly told Mason.

She appeared to be saying something to Christian, and by the look on his face, he wasn't happy about it. He gave Lissa a warry look, and with a nod from her, he walked away from them—not far, but enough so that he was out of earshot. Even with a room full of people, she had managed to create a small enough bubble for her and Lissa to have a private conversation. As Tatiana turned her profile to the room, giving Mason a better view of her he let out a low whistle. "She'd a right puss on her."

"You can say that again."

"She'd a right—" Mason let out a soft umpph as I elbowed him in the gut.

We both watched intently as Tatiana and Lissa spoke. I desperately wished I could hear what they were saying. I suddenly remembered how well the bond had been working earlier and tried to tap into Lissa's mind.

Specs of her vision clashed with mine and for a moment I thought I heard Tatian's cold voice, but then it was gone. I tried again with the same results. I wasn't sure if it was the wine, or still just me, but each time I thought I was getting through, it felt like I was being physically shoved back out. It was beyond frustrating.

I continued watching them intently, hoping I could decipher what was being discussed just by the few interactions I'd had with the woman. One thing was for sure, Lissa seemed to be holding her own. It would be easy to crumble beneath the force of someone like Tatiana, even Daniela and Nathan Ivashkov had become so small anytime she flashed a stern look or made a small disapproving noise in the back of her throat. But not Lissa, if anything she looked more like competition…an equal among a titan.

"Oy, he looks crabbit as a cat."

"Hmm," I responded distractedly. I hesitantly followed Mason's gaze across the room to see Victor and Natalie in what appeared to be a strained conversation. I hadn't even noticed when he had arrived, but it struck me as odd that neither of them were focused on Lissa and Tatiana as the majority of the room was. I felt a small jolt through the bond, stealing my attention back to my sister. "Ah, he's probably just getting on to her for having too much wine."

Mason let out an amused huff. "Yeah, remember that one time at Yule dinner when she—"

"I'm sorry Mase," I interrupted, the feelings from Lissa growing stronger. "I have to go. Lissa needs me."

He nodded, looking more serious than he had all night and I was grateful for not having to explain myself further.

I squeezed my way up to them, earning some cross looks from other nosey onlookers in the process, but it looked like I was just a second too late. Tatiana was turning to leave, neither of us bothering to acknowledge the other as we crossed paths. A sigh of relief greeted me as I came to stand by my sister's side. "There you are," she breathed out.

"What was that all about," I asked in a rush.

Lissa glanced behind me to see the bustling crowd had all stilled to watch her. Her panic hit me like a wave and it no longer felt like there was a barrier, but a floodgate opening with a rush. I looked around the room until my eyes fell on the band. I raised a hand, signaling for them to start playing and hurriedly they obeyed. The room slowly began to ebb and flow again as I guided Lissa over to one of the empty tables behind her. I asked a couple of the guards to help give us some privacy for a bit and had one of them bring over some food to make the appearance that we were just taking some much-needed time to eat.

Lissa reached for a goblet of water and chugged the entirety of its contents down.

"You alright, Liss," I carefully asked, noticing how pale she'd become.

"Yes, yes I'm fine," she said unconvincingly.

"What did she say to you?"

It was meant to be a simple question, but the way Lissa looked at me in response told me my temper had found its way to the surface again. I tried to calm my expression, still finding it more difficult than normal.

"She was surprisingly pleasant, really," Lissa said as she shakily set the goblet down. "I wasn't sure how the conversation would go. I thought my marriage would be a starter for her to reconsider our alliance, but…"

She looked at me and my heart sank. "But she won't…because of me?"

Lissa shook her head and looked around, then leaned closer to be sure I was the only one to hear. "She wants to rid the need for alliances altogether."

"What?" The volume of my voice made her balk. I leveled it out before speaking again. "What in Vlad does that mean?"

"She thinks we should get rid of the individual monarchs across all houses, and all pledge allegiance to one. A single sovereign to lead and unite all the Moroi houses. Someone to bring peace and order."

"Oh, that's rich. And let me guess, she thinks that all mighty sovereign should be her?"

Lissa shook her head again, her eyes growing wider with trepidation. "She thinks it should be me."

I was speechless. How did this make sense?

Lissa stared at me, waiting for a response, and when I didn't give one her face fell. "You think she's wrong?"

"What?! No. I just find it hard to believe. Not you! Her! I—" I licked my lips, trying to sort my thoughts and construct my words. "It's just suspicious to me after the last communication we received from her. I thought she was against the things you believe in. Why would she not only align with you, but campaign as someone to be the voice of all our people? A voice that she claimed to not trust. Especially with who she has publicly aligned with."

"I agree," she started, "but I'm starting to think it wasn't actually her choice."

"How so?"

Lissa's eyes flicked behind me and for a split second, I saw Christian walking toward us. Her voice became rushed and quieter still, "I think there is more unrest happening in the Western Isles than we know. That she didn't agree with the new decrees, but something else was forcing her hand."

Christian appeared by her side, giving her a small kiss on the head as he whispered something into her ear. She smiled but her jade eyes were fixed on me, egging me to replay those words in my mind. I thought back to that night at dinner when Lissa had received Tatiana's letter. Adrian had been hoping for the same thing Lissa was speculating now. He couldn't believe his aunt would cave to such barbarous demands. Originally, I'd dismissed it. Not only because of how she'd openly treated me but because of the damaging evidence from the letter she'd sent. With what she was claiming now, was it possible I had been wrong?

But if that was true, who in the hell was powerful enough to force Tatiana Ivashkov's hand?

The longer Lissa's eyes read me, the more our thoughts seemed to be aligning.

Without warning, another familiar voice interrupted us. "Daughter, I've been hoping to share a moment with you. If it pleases her majesty." Lissa's expression immediately shifted, no doubt knowing there wasn't much that you could hide from Janine Hathaway.

"Of course," Lissa replied politely. "And I must say, you do look lovely tonight, Guardian Hathaway."

My mother smiled, a dimmed version of the one she wore before and I would've made a point to bring it up if I wasn't already so distracted.

Instead, I nodded, following my sister's lead, and tried my best to shove those other thoughts aside for a later time. She obviously wasn't going to bring this up to Christian tonight, most likely not wanting to spoil their wedding night so I took my leave with Janine.

We made our way back toward the food tables and I grabbed a handful to distract myself. In that subtle way of hers, Janine's face shifted from pleased by my ensemble to annoyed by the amount of food stuffed in my mouth. A Dhampir woman that had appeared beside her brought a fist up to her mouth to cover a small laugh. I recognized her as the formal Marshall during my father's reign.

"Sorry," I rubbed my hands on the tablecloth, careful to avoid my dress. "Guardian Petrov, what an honor to see you," I said more clearly as I swallowed down the hoard of food in my mouth.

"You as well, Rose. It's been some time. I'm sorry for not coming to see you sooner upon your re-emergence. I was traveling out of the country. Your mother and I were just catching up though and she says you're making incredible progress."

"Oh really? I didn't realize you and Janine knew each other." My mother's eyes darted at me, dark and warning.

"Of course we do," Alberta said, giving Janine a curious glance. "We trained together when we were young."

Janine's eyes grew wider, encouraging me to say something. "Uh…yes. Of course! I only meant that I didn't know you were still in touch." I stumbled through my words. Even an idiot could see it, little less someone like Alberta Petrov. We had been trying to keep my 'condition' privy to only a certain few, but here I'd already blown it within the first hour in a public setting.

"Are you feeling alright, Rose?"

"Of course!" Iooked down at my dress, pretending to adjust the belt. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"She's just a little over-excited," my mother cut in. "With the ceremony and the ball all in the same night. It's a lot for her to process." My teeth clenched at the indication of weakness. I knew it was necessary to keep certain things private so information in the wrong hands couldn't be used against us. But I hated having to go along with it, especially in front of a Dhampir as renowned as Alberta.

Alberta looked around the room, stepping a bit closer to me. "The Guardians here seem to be well in control of the room. Perfectly organized—plenty around the Queen and King Consort and a more than suitable amount to keep her guests safe from any outside forces."

"Or each other," my mother smirked into her chalice.

I glanced around the outer edges of the room, still searching for that familiar face. "Yes, they do," I nodded.

The former Guardian dropped her voice, "You know, it took me a long time to realize that even Dhampir—although we may not want it or think we deserve it—need a break from all this. Sometimes it's necessary to keep us at our full strength. Especially when someone has gone through something like—"

"I'm not a child," I bit back, my temper uncontrollably flaring again. I was seeing a pattern, those dark, unsteady feelings rising once more.

My mother stiffened beside me. She didn't move to touch me, but the air around her was a familiar warning, one I was prepared to ignore depending on Alberta's next choice of words.

Alberta looked into my eyes, examining me the same way she had the room. Then her expression softened. "I know you're not. Or I wouldn't have chosen you as my successor."

Her words unexpectedly caused an old scene to play out in my mind. Just like all of my visions, the images were malformed—always blurred and out of order. Hard to trust. But the feelings they evoked were like a siren's call—luring me in deeper regardless of whether I'd feel joy or pain. This time, I could remember a combination of pride and anxiety as Alberta offered me her position. Her kind smile matched the one she wore now, but the crowded room around us dimmed as small sparks from a warm fire settled my nerves in her private quarters and she told me why I was best suited to follow her. A wave of new emotions flowed through me as I kneeled in the cool, damp dirt on another day. Acceptance from the troops banging their weapons against their shields as the cold metal of her sword tapped each of my shoulders. When I rose to stand, I felt changed. The responsibility and the weight of what I would carry eclipsed by the honor of carrying it. I was finally who I was supposed to be.

When the clanging sounds and feelings they evoked became mere echoes back in the courtyard of the ball, my eyes stung from the loss. The headache came too, but I tried my best not to react.

My mother said something beside me. I'm not sure what, but it brought Alberta's more jovial temperament back. "Don't mind me, I'm just a worried old woman."

"If you're old, then what does that make me," Janine scoffed. The two of them laughed again and I tried my best to smile. Janine lightly nudged my wrist with her knuckle, giving me a cue to leave. I'm pretty sure it didn't go unnoticed by Alberta, but she didn't let on.

I announced that I should find Adrian since I had yet to see him. The two of them smiled at me as I turned to leave. I stood there for a moment, trying to remember that feeling I'd been so long without, what I'd been lamenting over since returning to this place. I turned back to them, catching Alberta's attention again.

I pressed my shoulders back, and for the first time since seeing that beautiful dress, I wished I had on something more suited for battle instead. "If I never said it properly before, thank you."

Who was to say if she knew what the gratitude was really for, but nevertheless she nodded and let me walk away without having to answer any more questions.

My head was stinging. The pain wasn't as intense as the other times but it lingered for far longer. My eyes squinted as my hand came up to rub my right temple. I must have stopped looking where I was going when my shoulder collided with another body. "Sorry," I mumbled, dropping my hand and straightening up.

"Your Highness," it was neither acceptance nor rejection. I guess my apology was shite anyways, but when I saw who it was, the grumpiness from my headache had me wishing I'd hit him harder. "Are you well today?" Sir Robert Doru's beady eyes needled me.

Even though I knew I was in debt to him, without him, I most likely wouldn't be standing here today, but that fact didn't deter the icky feeling the Moroi gave me. And after my conversation with Alberta, I was reminded that my gut instincts used to be something others trusted as well.

"I'm fine," I deadpanned.

"You're sure," he took a step closer giving me a faint whiff of cloves and coriander. "You look a bit…peckish."

"Maybe you should get your eyes checked then. I'm pleased as punch," the lingering ache resurfaced and I couldn't suppress a small wince this time.

Robert leaned even closer, his proximity nearing inappropriate. "My eyes are fine, your Highness. Though your concern is noted."

Normally when he was around I tended to avoid his gaze, unnerved by his creepy disposition. But this time something was telling me to pay attention. To look closer. As I met his gaze, the ache started to fade and my mind was much more clear. There was something incredibly focused about him, but parts still hidden, like he was working out many things at once. Calculating.

I felt a warmth at my wrist and broke his gaze to see he had slyly placed his finger and thumb around my bracelet. I ripped my hand away, taking a step back and pulling it up to my chest. But when the sharp movement wasn't accompanied by blurred vision or the dull pain from before, I realized what he'd done.

"The magic was beginning to fade. A small surge is all it takes."

As much as it irked me to say it, I bit out a small, "Thank you."

"I am surprised Lord Ivashkov did not do so himself. It is but a small amount of magic to expel. Not too difficult to sense when it is growing weak. We wouldn't want it to completely fade…or do you need reminding of those consequences?"

"I asked him not to," I defended. It was mostly true. I hadn't told him to specifically leave the bracelet alone, but he knew I wanted him to use Spirit as little as possible. To save it for when especially necessary. Still, I wondered for the briefest moment why he hadn't sensed it fading before.

"Ah, I see," Sir Robert said with that meddlesome tone. "As talented as our young Lord is, he does still have much to learn." Robert took a step to my left and leaned down to whisper over his shoulder, "He is not so lucky as your Queen to have someone to share his burdens with."

For some reason, even the mention of Lissa from him had a snakey feeling slithering up my back. I didn't respond, letting him walk away. I was swiftly reminded how much the Senechal knew about me—and I hated it.

I spotted Adrian across the room, finally making his appearance, but he wasn't alone.

When we were at the Ivashkov Castle, family members tended to gravitate towards him, hoping to strike up a conversation with arguably their Queen's most coveted family member; however, today they didn't flock, they swarmed—now not only having one Queen's favor, but two.

To an outsider, Adrian looked calm and collected as he volleyed from one question to the next, but to anyone that actually knew him, his discomfort exuded from every part of him. His fingers moved from twitching at his side to raking through his hair, devoid of his usual party drink in hand, his eyes subtly darting to the entrance...not across the room. Not for someone, but for a way out.

And that's when I realized his discomfort wasn't because of the attention, it was because of his distraction. He wasn't looking for someone—for me—to take him away or help create a stupid game of evasion like we had last time. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to be back with the others, unraveling the mystery that had been plaguing us for weeks.

Is that why he hadn't sensed the magic in my bracelet fading? Or had he, and just not mentioned it?

I shook my head, refusing to let Robert get into yet another part of my mind without my consent.

I looked around the room to see Lissa and Christian stealing a small moment together away from the crowd of people vying for their attention. Natalie was nearby with Victor, their conversation still looking a bit turbulent. Never too far, Tasha was speaking animatedly to a few lords I didn't recognize.

I took a few steps back, deeper into the crowd, and allowed myself to be lost in it. No one's distraction, no one's companion, just for a while, I was no one.

/

Eventually, the music picked up. I stayed on the fringes of the throng gathered to observe others dance. I thought watching their jubilee would raise my spirits like I'd felt when first walking into the courtyard, but I was still plagued with pestering thoughts. No matter how hard I tried to lose myself in the music or the patterns of each dance, my rejuvenated mind kept wandering back to places I didn't want to go. As another cynical question shrouded my thoughts, I wondered if the headaches would've been preferable.

I glanced away from the dancers to look down at the bracelet, those questions slowly turning darker. Then a hand lightly rested on my shoulder.

It would never cease to amaze me how something rough and calloused could also be so soothing. I let out a breath, willing away those shadowed thoughts, but unable to rid them for good.

"Good evening, Rose," Dimitri's accented voice was low enough for only me to hear. I looked out to the dancefloor again, wanting to be present but still struggling to do so.

"It is," I replied, glancing over to Lissa and Christian again in the distance. Their moment had been stolen some time ago, but Chris' hand had never left hers and regardless of who Lissa was speaking with, I could tell the smile on her face was genuine.

Dimitri's hand carefully fell from my shoulder and only then did I realize how the temperature in the courtyard had dropped. "How was the ceremony?" His sights had no doubt tracked mine.

A small smile cracked through my bleak mood. "It was wonderful." We quietly watched them across the way for a moment, the dancers occasionally skipping past us. "They're truly happy, aren't they," I breathed out.

"They are."

I looked up to see Dimitri still watching them and it warmed me to see the normally rigid man so at ease. In a room full of people, many we didn't trust, I expected High Constable Belikov to be wound so tightly that people would most likely balk if they came too close to him. I thought about what Alberta had said, the preparations that had gone into the evening, and how impressed she was with the security layout. But it wasn't just that. I could see that my happiness for my sister was reflected in him, and I was reminded how much he had been there for her. How he had seen Lissa struggle when I was gone and how much this day would mean to him as well.

Earlier with Natasha, I knew that the matrimony of Lissa and her only nephew brought her joy, but there was still that underlying sense of political gain. That this union would better an agenda, whether for the good of our community or not, it still felt somewhat calculated.

But with Dimitri, I could see that he only cared about one thing. And that one thing was something we shared.

He looked down at me and smiled—in the same way he had last night when he talked about his sisters. Was it possible he cared just as much for Lissa as he did them? I thought back to the few times I had seen glimpses of him through her eyes, not just the protective support he brought her, but also comfort, stability, trust…kinship.

With that one look, he chased away the remnants of the dark mood I'd fallen into, his warm smile bringing light back to the night around us.

I smiled back at him, and without meaning to my eyes drifted to his lips. A rush of heat flooded my cheeks as I remembered other conversations from the night before, and what followed them.

I battled whether or not to bring it up now, but then he said, "You're beautiful."

It wasn't succeeded by 'tonight', or 'in that dress'. Jut you. Just me. He was looking at me and the tender mood I'd fallen into, and somehow that is what he appreciated the most.

I let out a shaky breath and ran my finger along the silver belt at my waist. "Hard not to in something like this. Lissa really outdid herself this time."

Dimitri's attention broke from mine to glance down before ever so slowly trailing back up with that familiar sinister look from the doorway of my room. "The dress is very nice too."

Without my consent, a small giggle bubbled from my throat and his heated gaze cracked with amusement.

I leaned back a little, taking in his attire as well, and an overwhelming sense of thirst consumed me. I let out a low whistle, trying to circulate air back to my lungs. "I'm assuming you're not working tonight in that get-up?"

"I'm always working, but you'd be surprised by the array of physical activities a Guardian can accomplish in any attire."

Thirst was a living thing. Clawing its way up my throat.

"Would you like to—"

"Do you want to—"

Our words tumbled over each other, the awkwardness of it settling my nerves a little. "You go first," I offered.

Dimitri's expression had become a bit more serious and I wondered for a second if maybe he was working and our time was already up. "I was just wondering if you would care to dance?"

I looked to the dancefloor, surprised by his request. As much as I would've liked to forget that drunken night in the tavern, I distinctly remembered him going to extreme lengths to avoid dancing with me.

I heard his voice again, much further away with a different song playing alongside it than the one in the courtyard now.

"Do you need distracting?"

"Why would I?"

"Are you sure? Because if so, I might be obliged to indulge in a dance with you."

The playfulness in his voice was different than I'd heard him before, but somehow matched the menacing looks he'd been giving me tonight.

"What's the matter, Rose? Don't you know how?"

The echoing voices faded as a new song struck up. When I turned back, Dimitri's open palm was waiting for me to take it. I looked up at him, our playful mood becoming delicate again. Sometimes when he looked at me, I wondered if he knew where my mind had gone—not just that it had gone to the past, but where.

Wordlessly, I nodded and placed my hand in his.

Without looking away from me, he deftly moved us from the edge of the crowd onto the floor. We stood there for a moment, just staring, and then with a small jerk of force he swung me around and wrapped me in his arm. We both chuckled when our chests bumped, the deep sound of his laugh making me feel at ease as his left hand brought mine up with his, pressing both our palms together.

"Graceful," I teased.

"Just having a little fun," he said, still smiling.

"You? Fun? I didn't know the two things existed on the same plane."

His grin grew as he leaned in and said, "Well, then I guess it's about time I educate you."

He took a step forward pressing the slightest bit against our hands, and my feet followed instinctively. Dimitri guided us gracefully through more steps and spins until we were in line with the other dancers. He moved back to stand in the row across from mine, and I instantly missed his touch. The dance became a game of push and pull, small bursts of longing and satisfaction. As we crossed sides, his fingers lightly caressed my knuckles before we turned to stand opposite one another again.

We drifted to the side, circling the partners next to us. I watched with amusement as an older, slim Moroi woman fawned over Dimitri. She batted her lashes at him incessantly and wiggled her boney shoulders in a strange way as the two of them rotated to stand beside each other again. I noticed her hand slip behind him and Dimitri's eyes widened as he looked back at me. I did my best to mimic her ridiculous shoulder move and he suppressed his laugh with a mock cough. Her hand moved back to her side as we all made our way to the middle. Dimitri hurriedly whispered, "Help," to me as our paths intertwined again.

I thought about teasing him, the 'big bad Belikov' needing rescuing, but he was moving back to his place beside the anxiously waiting old lass. So instead, I grabbed his arm and whispered, "As you wish," pulling him to me again. I latched onto his forearms and began whirling us around. As we picked up speed his hands secured to my arms as well, the clapping from the sidelines egging me on. When I was a girl, I remembered Lissa and I doing this in the fields together to see who could last the longest, we both would end up falling to the ground with sore asses and a spinning head. The courtyard was blurring around us but I didn't stop until we were both dizzy and almost out of breath from laughing so hard. I pushed Dimitri stumbling back into formation where I was standing before and took up his old spot next to the Moroi woman, who by the smell of her had had her fair share of ale. It took a while to get our rhythm back, both of us still a little wobbly, but the lopsided grin on his face had me staring at him again, finding the infatuated woman beside me completely relatable.

The clapping picked up again as partners coupled up to promenade down the aisle of bodies. My hands moved autonomously, but I was no longer paying attention to the dance. I kept walking down the line, approaching our turn, waiting, craving a chance to be near Dimitri again. He glanced over as we neared the end, the look on his face mirroring what I was feeling inside when his gaze caught mine. Since returning home, I'd felt this pull to Dimitri. Like there was something tethering me to him, tightening whenever I'd drift too far. Dimitri consistently pulled away, the anchor at the end of my tether dragging along the bottom of the sea, refusing to be pulled back in no matter how much he seemed to be drowning. But recently I could see that taut cord beginning to give. He would fight it, try to pull back just when I'd think he was finally letting me in. I don't know what changed, if it was yesterday or something that happened before, but he was no longer pulling, no longer drowning. I could feel the full force of him rushing towards me. The power behind his steps, the focused attention on my face, the deep rise and falls of his breaths.

Each step towards the end of the line caused the tempo of my heartbeat to rise, anxiously waiting to meet him again. When we finally joined together, his hand tightly grasped mine, pausing for a moment for a lingering look before we descended down the rows of dancers. His shoulder pressed into me as we walked, only separating to turn to face me and bring our palms up together again.

The walk wasn't long enough. We were meant to join the others in a circle now, but I didn't want to leave him again. I wanted to stay this close even if just for a little longer. I pressed my palms into his as he had before and guided us away from the small rings of couples.

I wasn't sure what to do next, I just knew I wanted to be here with him. Dimitri watched me, reading me in the way he did and a small smile returned to his face. He took a step to the left, and I followed. He began moving us in a small circle, teaching me the steps to something new. He pushed one of my hands away, turning us to the side before pulling me back in. He guided us in different patterns and turns that always led us back to each other. I felt like my heart was expanding when he would reel me in, each time our chests getting the slightest bit closer.

Even with just the two of us here now, we didn't speak, only looked. As I stared deep into his warm brown eyes, willing them to tell me what he was feeling, silently asking what he wanted to say, a flood of images rushed around us. All the times those eyes had been calling out to me were enhanced by the small glowing orbs hanging from the trees around us. Whether they were all memories or just dreams, it was hard to tell, but something deep down told me they were real. We were real.

Eventually, our feet stopped moving, but neither of us dropped our hands. Dimitri's breathing was even quicker now, the newness of seeing him like this bringing me back to the room.

"The music stopped," I whispered.

"I hadn't noticed," his voice was rough.

I smirked at him, my fingers curling around his. "Not very astute for a Guardian."

He let out an amused breath, a strand of his hair falling out of place. I reluctantly let go of one of his hands to reach up and tuck the hair behind his ear, lowering the other hand still clasped in his. His eyes closed for a moment as my fingers lightly brushed his jaw. When I moved my hand away, Dimitri's eyes snapped open, a fire blazing within them.

"Rose." There was an urgency to his voice, but I could sense the hesitation. Like he was battling on what to say or if he should say it.

"Yes, Dimitri," I prompted, willing him again to open up and not push me away. "What is it?"

Dimitri opened his mouth to speak, but it was someone else's voice that came out.

"Constable Belikov, it's good to see you!" Dimitri's shoulder jerked forward with a smack. I looked over to see Adrian with an arm on his back and instinctively dropped Dimitri's hand. As soon as I did, something about it felt wrong. "Now this is a great look on you. The stitching of the phoenix emblem on your vest, it's perfection. Where did you have this made?"

I could hear Dimitri replying to Adrian, but I wasn't listening to what was said. All I could focus on was how empty my hand felt and the sick feeling roiling inside me at the realization of what had been going on. What I had been doing. And who I had not been doing it with.

Adrian placed my hand on his arm and began to lead me away. I looked up realizing the conversation was coming to an end. "Apologies for stealing her away. My mother has been dying to see her again, you understand?"

Dimitri nodded, looking back at me like there was still something he wanted to say. Or maybe he was looking for me to be the one to speak up.

"Thanks, you're a good man, Belikov." My stomach dropped. Adrian took a few steps and I followed. "Oh and Dimitri, you must try some of the food. You look practically starved."

/

As we continued walking, Adrian would smile or wave politely at one of the guests not stopping to talk to anyone, but not rushing us either. My mind was racing. What must that have looked like to him? Did he even notice or had he only looked for me because his mother asked him to? What was Dimitri about to say? Fuck! What was I doing?

When Adrian stopped walking I looked up, ready to greet his mother only to find us alone under one of the white wisteria trees near the edge of the courtyard. "Rose," Adrian's voice was lacking its normal luster, eerily calm. "I need to ask you something and I need you to try your hardest to tell me the truth."

My brows scrunched and I realized he had dropped my arm. "You think I'm lying to you." I sounded distracted, my thoughts trying to catch up to what was happening in the moment.

He thought for a moment before replying and my heart sank. "Not intentionally, no."

I remembered what it had felt like when I found out about what he was keeping from me in the Western Isles. The betrayal from the only person I thought I could trust. And now I was putting him in that same position. He was right, I wasn't doing it intentionally—for once it felt like things were finally happening organically instead of it being planned or part of a greater mechanism in place. I wasn't trying to find a path or recreate one from the past, I was just being. But deep down I knew it was still selfish and wreckless and hurtful to others around me. And I hated myself for it.

"I know there are things you can't remember. You're not to blame for that. But we promised each other to not keep any secrets, right?" I nodded, trying to follow his line of thoughts.

Adrian sucked in a breath before taking a step closer to me, not reaching for me like he usually would. "Before we came here, before we ever met, were you in love with Constable Belikov?"

Now the question ringing in my head wasn't if he had noticed, but when. Was it really just tonight and that brief moment we shared, or was there something else before that I had been blind to? Again, I had the feeling of others knowing more about me than I knew about myself and it was making my skin crawl. I ran my hands along my arms, and thought about what Adrian had told me the last time we spoke—really considering his questions before answering automatically. At the very least I owed him that. I thought about what he'd asked, it was something I'd been trying to figure out for some time now as well. I panned through the memories I had already recovered, searching for the truth.

"I don't know. I keep seeing things, but it's not—" I licked my lips, trying to find that definitive answer but it wasn't there. I looked up to his questioning gaze so he could know I meant it. "There's not enough. I don't know."

"And what about now," his voice was barely above a whisper, his green eyes becoming more pleading than before. "Are you in love with him now?"

"I—" I started to say. I knew I should say no and expel Adrian's worries; the man who'd saved me, who'd been my friend when I had none, who'd helped me get home, who had so much love to give. But again, I remembered his request and took more time to decide. Did I love Dimitri? Part of me wanted to say yes, the one that was hyperfocused on what had just happened between us and was begging to explore more. But another part was reminding me how little I knew about him. It was like Dimitri was hiding half of himself from me. Could you really love only part of a person?

So again, less confident this time, I replied, "I don't know."

Adrian let out a shaky breath, running his hand through his tawny hair as he took a few steps back. He began pacing, as we both stood there silently. It wasn't the worst answer, but it definitely wasn't the one he'd been hoping to hear. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt Adrian. Despite the changes I was feeling, I still cared deeply for him.

His pacing increased and his breathing became erratic. He was mumbling to himself now, but I couldn't make it out. Without warning he growled, "Fuck!"

The alien severity in his voice had me taking a step back toward the tree. The blossoms above us began to tremble, several of the petals raining down on me. It was like I was in one of his dreams again, the world collapsing around us. A fallen twig snapped under my foot and Adrian's face shot up.

His eyes were dark, the emerald green resembling the storming sea—dangerous, mysterious…deadly. What was happening to him?

His focus followed one of the petals floating to the ground, turning curious. Not so much like a child, learning they could do something new, but the malevolent curiosity of a fox spotting a rabbit's trail, wanting to find what was at the other end. Only when his gaze met mine again did it soften. He looked at my face then at my hand pressed against the trembling tree behind me and breathed out, "Sorry." His shoulders folded in with a deflated sigh and all the movements around us stopped. "I'm sorry about all of this."

My eyes began to sting as my fingers dug into the bark behind me. This was my fault. Whatever was going on with him, it was because of me. How could it not be? The way he'd just changed so drastically from one completely different personality to the next. I was reminded of Lissa in the council room, how she reacted when she thought others were plotting behind her back.

And now he was apologizing to me.

"Why are you sorry?! I'm the asshole!" I pushed myself off the tree and pointed a finger to my chest. "I should be sorry! I'm hurting someone I care about and I still don't have a definitive fucking answer for myself. I mean what kind of person does this?! With everything you've done for me. I was nobody, literally nobody until you helped me realize what I could be, what I was! You were the only one who even cared," I sniffed, my voice becoming softer, no longer frantic but weak, "You should hate me. I'm such a fucking piece of—"

"Stop," he demanded, pulling my hand down. "Don't do that. Don't credit me for your recent accomplishments and don't put yourself down for expressing how you feel. If this is how you act every time you come across something you didn't know before it's no wonder you're struggling with recovering your memories." He dropped my wrist to my side and made a frustrated sound. The look on his face told me he hadn't meant it as an insult, but if he apologized to me again I wasn't sure I could take it.

I stayed quiet, giving him time to think, and the next time he spoke his voice and his movements were more stable and calm. "Being honest is not something to be ashamed of, Rose."

I wanted to believe him, but how could what he was saying be right when it felt so devastatingly wrong? Adrian looked down at my dress, his gaze lingering there for a bit as his fingers traced up the loose chain of my belt. I bit my lip, fighting back the urge to cry.

"Besides, I'm pretty sure the insults are supposed to come from the scorned lover in these situations." He tried to smile, but it wasn't fooling either of us.

"Why are you being like this," I asked as he gently set the chain against my thigh. "Why are you trying to make me feel better? Aren't you upset with me?"

"Of course I'm upset. My betrothed just told me she may or may not have feelings for another man. Not to mention that man is the protector of this kingdom and basically 7 feet of solid muscle with the most chiseled jaw I've ever seen. And I'm…well…still trying to figure that out aren't I."

"Now who's being self-deprecating?"

"Touche." This time his smile was more convincing. "But what I'm trying to say is our situation is unique. Anger directed at you would be misplaced."

He reached over to clasp the hand he'd pulled away before and the way he looked at it tugged at my aching heart. "Look," he took a steadying breath and honed directly into my eyes. "I love you, Rose. If I could marry you today, I would. I'm ready to commit to you and start a life with you. I may have done a shit job of showing it lately, but that's the truth."

Adrian brought my hand up to his lips and gave it the smallest kiss. "But as I told you before, I want you to choose me. I don't want this to be an arrangement, I want it to be real. And if you're not ready for it, then I won't force that." His eyes drifted behind me to another part of the room. "What kind of man would that make me if I did?" I glanced over to see who he was looking at and found Daniela standing among the crowd. She looked lovely as ever, smiling and socializing in that perfectly crafted way of hers.

There was someone missing by her side though—Adrian's father.

I reached my hand up and placed it on his chest, wanting to offer him a bit of comfort. Adrian covered my hand with his as that tense gaze trailed back to me. For a moment I felt a tangible warmth seep into my palms, trickling down my wrists and arms. His magic offering the smallest gift, a white flag carefully being raised.

Whether it was intentional, or his control slipping again, I didn't know.

The uncertainty overshadowed the gesture and the flag fell, my hands left cold and empty again as he brought them down.

"The way you care for others is admittedly one of your most endearing qualities to me. But there's one more thing I have to ask of you. For once, Rose, stop worrying about everyone else and worry about yourself. Okay?" He swallowed, taking a step back. "It's the only way you're going to figure out what you want."

He turned and began to walk away. I called after him, "Where are you going?"

He didn't stop. He just glanced at me over his shoulder and tutted his tongue, "Little Dhampir, you're already doing it again," as he flashed me that signature Adrian Ivashkov smirk.

/

DPOV

My Body is a Cage by Arcade Fire

She walked away with him, hand in hand. Her face started to turn over her shoulder to glance at me, but for once I couldn't tell what that look meant. I looked down at my hand, now empty, his full. My fingers curled into a fist, trying to hold onto whatever feeling was fleeing from my palm. But it was too late. It was gone.

I pushed my way through a door out of the courtyard toward one of the adjoining untouched ones, unsure how many people I'd carelessly knocked into on the way out. I needed room. I needed to hit something. I needed to scream.

My back slammed against the hard stone wall, my fingers digging into my scalp. A guttural cry scratched out of my throat, echoing across the empty space, my demons chasing me from every angle.

How had I gotten here? How did we keep coming back to this?

One moment she was at my side, smiling at me like she used to when she was mine. The next, I was brutally reminded that she wasn't. I was foolishly throwing myself in, only to be knocked around and cast back out. My mind was alternating between telling me to storm back in and pull her against me, to screaming at me to run far far away. My body was feeling a million things. Too many things:

Her soft lips pressed against mine.

My heart achingly clenched in my chest.

Her hand slipping from my shoulder to squeeze my arm.

My stomach sinking into an endless pit.

"Ты Дурак!" I slammed my palms into the wall hoping it would come down and hit me over the fucking head.

"I hope you're not talking to me," her voice was light and teasing, fading away into the morose atmosphere around me. I wasn't expecting anyone to follow me. Teeth scraped against teeth as my jaw tightened. I leaned my forearms against the wall, my head dropping low.

"Dimka," her tone was heavier now. A hand rested on my arm, light and cold. "I hate seeing you this way."

I inhaled a sharp breath and pushed off the wall, turning to Tasha but my eyes were drawn to the cracks in the ground. Each chipped stone of the dilapidated courtyard was like looking in a mirror. She said something else and I pretended to listen, not having the energy to converse.

"Dimitri," her voice was hard, demanding my attention. My focus rose. She didn't like what she saw. The bound and determined look on her face fizzled to pity—and it disgusted me.

"Don't," I harshly bit out.

She twitched and I realized how forceful I sounded. I searched for my control, trying to reign it in like a wild mare. I started to apologize, words hollow, but she stopped me.

"It's fine, Dimitri. I get it." I nodded and the air shifted—slightly less tense than before. I suddenly missed the cold, winter air, wishing for a bone-chilling breeze to slice through me. "Come, sit with me." She walked over to a stone bench and rigidly, I complied.

We were silent for a while until my stiff breathing began to smooth out. "Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

I rested my elbows on my knees and rubbed my palms together, unsure if I wasn't answering her because I didn't want to or because I didn't know how to. "It's about her isn't it?" I went still and apparently that was answer enough. "This isn't healthy, Dimitri. You can't keep doing this to yourself."

"I know," I gruffly replied.

Just a week ago Tasha was telling me to talk to Rose. Imploring me to tell her the truth. She argued with me at nauseam, hating the fact I wasn't willing to put myself first. She even tried to appeal that if I wouldn't think of myself then to think of Rose and what she was owed. When I told Tasha it felt selfish, that telling her these things could hurt Rose, or the alliance she and Vasilsa were trying to build, Tasha conceited and said she understood—wholeheartedly disagreed, but understood—though I wasn't sure if she did. There was this constant push and pull between what I thought was right and what I longed for. I'd been dreading telling Rose about the battle, the last day I saw her before she disappeared, even more so after Adrian asked me to. But when I saw her yesterday I knew it was right. She deserved time to mourn that day and the men we'd lost, and giving her that, no matter how much it pained me to do so, unexpectedly gave me a sense of relief.

Then Rose asked me what I wanted…and I gave in. All the constant battles between right and wrong stilled, and in that moment there was only her—all of my wants reflecting back at me.

Tonight I wanted to give her more, so tired of hiding so much from her. I wanted to show her how we used to be, how we could be, how I wanted us to be. But when Adrian cut in, all those moments and opportunities were stripped away.

I felt like a coward. I felt like a snake trying to steal another man's woman away. But most of all, I felt the loss of her. The internal battles arose again and were no longer obtrusive, but all-consuming. So much pressure was building inside me that my skin felt tight, barely containing all the things bubbling at the surface threatening to break through.

"I know," I repeated to Tasha beside me, more defeated this time.

"Do you?!" Tasha's voice was agitated, almost shrill. Again, I didn't answer. She shifted in her seat and tilted her shoulders towards me. "I'm leaving for Inferion in a few days. I think you should come with me."

"I can't. I made a promise." My answer was immediate. Recited.

Tasha's hands flew up and her temper flared. "A promise to a dead girl that's no longer dead!" I stiffened, a different kind of dark feeling rearing its head.

She let out a soft sigh, smoothing out her raven hair. Her fingertips were tinged pink and I knew they'd be a few degrees hotter now from the dormant flames beneath her skin. "She's moving on with her life Dimitri," her words were quiet, gentle even, but it didn't keep them from stinging any less. "Don't you think it's time you did as well?"

"And what about my duty to Vasilisa? I can't just leave her to go be a Guardian at another kingdom."

"I'm not asking you to be a Guardian."

I looked up at her, unsure of her meaning, but when I saw the look on her face I finally understood. Her eyes were searching mine in a pleading want, a fervent hope that I had been blind to. Tasha had made suggestions in the past, some more serious than others, but now I could clearly see that there was more. Maybe it wasn't there before or maybe I hadn't cared to notice in the past. Did I care to notice now?

"Let's..let's take a walk." She was more unsure now as she rose to stand. She rolled her shoulders and stood a little straighter, glancing down at me still seated. "Unless...do you want to be alone?"

I thought about that question, more than I'd thought about anything else she'd said. For the past few months, I'd felt nothing but alone. Constantly reaching for something out of my grasp and unable to break this tether tied to my pain.

I was tired. Tired of feeling this way. Tired of being alone.

I looked up at her and answered unwaveringly, "No."

A small smile creased the scar across her cheek and she held out a pale hand to me. It would be so much easier to shed my misery with my responsibilities and start a life with someone else. Chase away this emptiness growing inside me before I became nothing but a shell. A chance to feel wanted. To be needed again.

I took her hand and rose from the bench, leaving that courtyard and my demons behind me.

RPOV

Song: Latenight by Leyla Blue

I left the ball, needing to clear my thoughts.

I passed Lana again on my way out. I didn't bother acknowledging her this time but could hear her venomous voice under her breath nonetheless, directed at me, "I guess I was wrong about your taste after all."

I made my way through the castle, trying to get as far from the festivities as possible. Every once in a while I'd spot a Guardian quietly observing in a corner or a drunk Moroi couple making out in a dark-lit hall, but no one bothered me or tried to talk to me. As I walked closer to the royal chambers I wondered if Dimitri had gone back to his room. Maybe I could find him there and talk to him, finish our conversation from before.

But then I thought about what Adrian had said and decided I needed to spend more time alone. Everything he'd told me was right, and it only made it that much harder to swallow. Truths were like that weren't they.

I heard hushed voices again as I walked closer to my room and half expected to run into another horny Moroi couple amped up on the whiskey I saw floating around the room. I was about to turn around and go another way, but when one of them spoke up again I realized I recognized the Moroi woman's voice. I slowed my steps, taking care to be quieter now. When I was about to round the corner where I knew her room was, I paused, trying to listen to what she was talking to her companion about. Their voices were still quiet, but something about the conversation seemed heated.

I peered around the stone wall the slightest bit to hone in on the faint echoes and spotted another familiar face. I only caught a few short blurbs of their conversation, but what I did hear was enough to guess what was going on. Part of me wanted to go over there and stop it, to pull the two of them apart but something told me to hold back, to leave it be.

Before I could make up my mind, a cold hand clasped down on my shoulder and I gasped as I reeled back in surprise.

---

A/N

Sorry for the abrupt way this ended. The CH needed to cut before we went on forever but will pick up right where we left off.

Also, apologies for the way it began XD. A bit cruel, but still fun.

The dance was a bit challenging for me since most dances in this time period had minimal touching. Still, I wanted to capture the longing and angst so I tried my best to channel Mr. Darcy and Lizzy here lol. Sidenote: The dance Dimitri was teaching Rose at the end of that scene was more accustomed to what the Vikings would do back in his old camps. Less formal and more intimate. 3