The next day he left Saint Vlads, without letting anyone know he was departing. After seeing Rose last night, he'd realized something—and it hit him like a ton of bricks. His taunting remarks to Rose had sparked something in his brain, and when he awoke, the knowledge was just… there.

The reason Belikov was walking around depressed was because Rose wanted to go to the trial, and he couldn't provide it—the queen had forbidden the students from attending. Her Russian 'god' was failing her, showing her that he was just a mortal man, and it was killing him inside. For once, Adrian might just have a shot. If he could do this, she might realize he was an okay guy and maybe decide to be his friend. He'd worry about the rest—making her fall in love with him—later.

The weather in Pennsylvania was horrid, he was soaked as soon as he exited the plane. He wasn't surprised to see several Guardians waiting for him on the tarmac, he'd had the foresight to call ahead, informing Priscilla Voda of his visit, swearing her to silence so he could 'surprise' his Aunt. Nodding at them, he set off, heading through the Court without paying any attention to his surroundings. He'd spent a good portion of his life here, the beautiful, buildings were old news to him.

The lead Guardian stepped up beside him, handing him a note. Priscilla had arranged for his Aunt to be in her private sitting room—he'd find her there. He shoved the note in his pocket, running his hands through his hair, making it appear even messier than usual. God, he hoped this would work.

He opened the door as quietly as possible, motioning for his escort to wait outside as he snuck into the Queen's private sitting room. It was possibly the least formal room in the entire court—the polar opposite of the parlor in which she received formal guests. This room was comfortable, the furniture slightly worn, with brightly colored afghans thrown across their backs. No one would ever imagine that the Queen of the Vampire world was a knitter. It was one of her most closely guarded secrets.

Scattered around the room, on every available surface, were framed photographs, chronicling one boys life. Adrian's. He was the apple of his Great Aunts eye, to everyone's amazement. They'd be more amazed to realize he was closer to her than he was to his own parents. Hell, he'd certainly spent more time with her growing up. They'd never had time for him.

Careful not to make a sound, he crept towards the oversized recliner. His great aunt was so intent on her knitting that she didn't notice a thing. When he reached the chair he bent down, kissing her cheek and laughing as she flinched in surprise.

"Adrian! Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

He grinned, genuinely happy to see her. "I wanted to surprise you. Have you missed me?"

"Terribly. Please tell me you have cigarettes." She smiled up at him, cupping his cheek with one hand.

"Of course. I even remembered to bring you a few packs, to keep you happy while I'm away." He offered her a cigarette, lighting in for her as he settled down on the floor beside her chair.

She exhaled, making a happy sound. "You're a good boy, no matter what anyone says." Smirking, she studied him. "You look… different. Why is that?"

He froze at the tone in her voice. She sounded suspicious. Surely she hadn't caught on to his real reason for staying at Saint Vlad's? "I have no idea what you mean, Auntie. Perhaps it's the fact I haven't had a drink in at least four hours?"

She made a dismissive sound. He smiled, steering the subject away from the dangerous waters. For the next hour she filled him in on the gossip around court. When they reached the topic of his life at the school, she gave him the opening he'd been waiting for.

"How is Vasilisa? Are the two of you making much progress with studying?"

"Some. She's come off the medication, but it's still affecting her magic. Right now it's a waiting game." He fidgeted with his hair. "Speaking of Lissa—"

"Vasilisa," she corrected him.

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. She was very distraught to learn that she wouldn't be allowed to come to court for Dashkov's trial."

Tatiana arched an eyebrow. "Really."

"Yep. It sent her into a panic. I'm really worried it might cause a setback, you know, make her depressed. Then she'd have to go back on the pills."

"Adrian—"

"I know you have your reasons for keeping her away, but I think she needs closure." His words came out in a rush, and he laced them with the tiniest hint of compulsion. "They all do, every one of the students involved."

She sighed, resting her head against the back of the chair. "I realize that, but—"

She broke off as the door opened, Priscilla looking at them apologetically.

"I'm sorry, but it's time for the council meeting."

"I'll be along in a minute. Leave us alone so I can say goodbye." She turned away from the woman, her eyes locking on Adrian's. Her intensity made him nervous. "I'll consider what you've said. You might be right."

He grinned. "Stranger things have happened."

He stood, helping her to her feet, relaxing into the comfort of her familiar embrace as she hugged him tightly. God, he'd missed being hugged. Missed physical contact with another human being.

"Adrian," she whispered in his ear, "whatever you've started with the Hathaway girl, end it. Now."

He flinched. "There's nothing going on. We're not even friends. She hates me."

Tatiana pulled back, an outraged look on her face. "Don't be ridiculous. You're much to lovable for anyone to hate." Her eyes softened as she met his gaze, perhaps reading the pain in his eyes. "Oh, sweetheart. Don't do it. Don't fall in love with her."

He bit his lip, looking away. Too late, he thought. As if she read his mind, she released him, her eyes narrowing.

"I mean it Adrian. Don't push me on this. Rose Hathaway is not the girl for you. Friendship is one thing, but anything else… I won't tolerate it."

She kissed his cheek, and he watched her as she walked towards the door. With each step she rebuilt herself, transforming from the elderly aunt he loved into the arrogant, icy Queen of the Moroi.

He stood in silence, contemplating the fact that, perhaps everyone wore masks, hiding their true souls from the world. Some were just better at the disguise than others.