⧗ CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE ⧗


Whispers followed wherever they went.

"I wish they'd stop," Oksana murmured, when the three of them elected to hide in the library together after one period. In the following weeks since their last test, Oksana, Sabina, and Dmitri had largely recovered from their injuries, aside from any broken appendages.

"It's like this every year," Sabina reminded her. "We did it, too, remember?"

"Yeah, well!" Oksana pouted. "Now I regret it. I don't want to hear who anyone thinks is going to graduate. And who won't."

"I'd rather not think about it," Dmitri admitted. This was the first time any of them had actually discussed the elephant in the room and now Dmitri very much wanted to stop talking about it. It was so much worse to acknowledge it, than to pretend everything was going to be okay.

"I don't want to either," Sabina hung her head. "It's worse now that we don't have classes. Nothing to distract us."

Their only priority was to recover in time for the graduation ceremony. The Madame had announced it only a few weeks ago. A month's time. That's all they had. And most of it had already gone now.

And only now, as the hour drew close, did they finally stop and address it. Instead of days of avoiding eye contact and the weakest attempt at conversations. Sabina was right that, without classes, there was nothing to occupy their time or force them to collaborate on anything.

"Well, I just want you guys to know," Oksana sucked in a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut. "That whatever happens, I-I love you guys. I don't want this to change anything."

Dmitri wished he could say the same. But he already knew, nothing would ever be the same again.

"I know," Sabina smiled sadly, and hugged Oksana. "I don't know how it's going to turn out. But I'm glad it's with you two. And… and I want to suggest something. A pact."

"A pact?" Dmitri frowned.

"Yeah, you know," Sabina pulled away from Oksana, looking between the two of them with some amount of embarrassment. "Like a deal. A promise. That whichever one of us is chosen, whichever one of us has to… has to lose. To make it quick."

The trio was silent for a long moment, Sabina pressing her lips together as if she already regretted saying it aloud. Oksana and Dmitri shared a glance before quickly averting their gazes. No one wanted to think about the other having to be the one to deal the killing blow.

"I just…" Sabina added weakly, barely a whisper. "I just don't want anyone to suffer."

Dmitri could see the tears in her eyes, as well as Oksana's. And he knew if he didn't say something soon, he might not be able to control himself, either. "Deal."

Just said it. Get it done, out of the way. It was nothing, really. Sabina's suggestion was reasonable, obvious, even. No reason to make the loser suffer. It was already going to hurt so much. And Dmitri had already seen how vicious and brutal a graduation ceremony could be. Some could last a terrible age. Some died fighting. It was awful and heart-wrenching and a betrayal of the highest order.

A quick death.

A painless death.

In the Red Room, it was a mercy bestowed with love.

"Deal," Oksana sniffed.

"Deal," Sabina repeated, with a soft smile, and opened her arms for a group hug. Dmitri almost didn't want to, but decided he would regret it if he didn't. Now was not the time for regrets. Now was the time to cherish every moment they had left together.

The morale improved a little bit after that. In an effort to make the most of what time they had left, the three of them spent their free time wisely. Playing chess, reading books, enjoying each other's company. Staying up long after their bedtime to talk and share their favorite stories of childhood, all the wonderful memories they made together and with sisters they've lost.

Dmitri could forget the lies and the secrets regarding Ksenia. He forgave them. He had to. He couldn't hang onto that anger anymore, not when he might not have anyone left to be angry at. A burning hot coal he had gripped, that had only injured himself.

They felt like children again. Trying to recall the little made-up games they had created, when they had few toys and endless imagination. The ghost stories they used to tell. The pranks they played.

And then they were children no longer.

It was a cold morning, that day of graduation. For a whole week, the three of them had maintained high spirits and warm regards, but today their smiles were only half-hearted, strained and nervous. They dressed slowly, minding some still sore spots. Taking their time in the showers. Watching that clock tick every closer to the final hour.

But there was no amount of procrastinating, of wishing, of delaying the inevitable. The dining hall was eerily quiet when they entered. Breakfast. Their last meal together. Last night, dinner had been a nearly joyous afar. Now they barely spoke. Barely made eye contact. Could barely choke down a piece of toast.

And then, one by one, the tables emptied. Classes gathering, the audience assembling. No one rushed them, not right away.

Just a quiet moment together.

They sat, staring at their plates, food largely untouched. Neither girl moved, and Dmitri surprised himself when it was he who reached out first, a hand to both of them. Oksana and Sabina blinked in surprise, but they each took his hand, and then each other's. A complete circle. A solid link.

Dmitri knew he should say something. Something wise, something profound. All he could come up with was: "Whatever happens. You'll always be my sisters."

"Family," Sabina smiled faintly.

"Always," Oksana blinked away a tear, shaking her head. They both squeezed his hands and he in turn.

And then they stood, and together they walked out of the dining hall.

The sparring room was cleared of all equipment. The three of them were already dressed for the occasion, their standard exercise gear. No loose clothing that might be used against them. The crowd parted as they entered, the three approaching the recessed floor in the center of the room. The Madame stood in front of them. She had no smiles. Placid faces like stone stared at them from all directions.

There was no preamble. No speeches.

Just the Madame and her will.

"Dmitri," She called, with a subtle gesture of her hand to step forward.

His stomach dropped, but Dmitri knew he shouldn't be surprised. Of course the Madame chose him. If he was the favorite, then he would be offered no reprieve. He must prove himself at every turn.

He dropped to the level below, trying to quiet his racing heart. Not daring to look behind him. He couldn't. He couldn't. He couldn't.

Dmitri stood, and waited, wondering who the other would be.

The Madame looked at him once, then away again. "Oksana."

Dmitri heard a tiny gasp behind him, but didn't turn. Not until Oksana had stepped into the other corner, and they faced each other.

Oksana's face, so pale and stricken, her freckles and strawberry blonde hair stark against her skin. Hands clenched so tight her knuckles were white. The tiniest shake of her head, the fragility in her eyes.

Dmitri wished he was able to express his own dismay, as if fighting Sabina would've been any better. He just wanted Oksana to know how much he hated this, too.

How much this felt like a nightmare.

How they must play their parts.

And the Madame's voice rang out. "Begin."