DPOV - CH63 Cont.

I'm lying on something far bigger and far more comfortable than my bunk. There's also no threat of falling out of it as I roll onto my back. My hand stretches out, searching but finding the sheets empty.

It takes me a moment to peel back my eyelids, my head still fogged with sleep.

"Roza?" I lean up onto my elbow, but the bathroom is dark, the door open.

How long have I been out? Judging by the clinging daze I'd slept deeply, my body taking advantage of being sated, of finding a small island of peace.

I pull on my trousers and check the hour on my phone before venturing into the living room. The TV is on low, but she isn't watching it, nor does she notice me come in. Rose is curled up on the couch wearing my jumper and a throw tucked around her hips, lost in her thoughts.

Apprehension knots in my stomach as I move toward her.

"Lyubimaya?" I say gently and she jerks.

"Hey." A small smile plays on her lips before dropping off.

I sit down and pull her feet into my lap. "How long have you been sitting here?"

"Not long, ten minutes maybe. I got up to use the bathroom but then…" She shrugs, "I started thinking."

"About?"

She doesn't answer and I wait, thumb rubbing small circles on her ankle. A few minutes pass and then she takes a deep breath.

"If you'd have asked me how I would feel about what happened, before it happened, I would have been…adamant about it. I know what we did was right, I know it had to happen because he was a terrible person. But I feel…I feel relieved still, I do. I feel sure about it but at the same time, there's this weirdness to it. Like it wasn't completely real but it is and there's something…sad about it. I'm not making any sense."

I reach up and cup her cheek, those conflicted eyes stilling on mine.

"If you felt completely at peace or that it was easy, then that would be frightening, Rose. You value life, you appreciate so much about living. You take so much joy from that of which others take for granted." My thumb brushes her cheek. "You have such beautiful humanity. It's what helped wake me up and reconnect with feeling mine. Killing should never be easy, it's a burden to bear, and knowing that it was the right thing does not negate the weight of it."

She nods against my palm, emotion pinching her face as she thinks.

"I don't want to be like them. I want to help people. I want to protect them from people like that. That's what I know I want to do with my life, but I don't know how I want to do it. Zoey asked if I'd considered being a Guardian, if that's something I want to work toward, and she would help me."

"But that's not what you want." I say softly, smoothing her hair back.

Her eyes meet mine, unnecessarily apologetic. "No, it's not. I want to do more, not that real Guardians don't, I just mean that…I don't want to wait around protecting people who are already safer than most. And…"

"And?"

"When I came to Victors' house, I started to realize that how I grew up was wrong, the wrong normal and I suppose part of my anger came from wondering why it was us. Why was it only us treated like that but I realized that there are people out there now, feeling how I used to feel, being treated the way we were treated. We weren't the only slaves." Her eyes hold mine. "Were we?"

The knot in my stomach tightens, "No."

She nods, expecting as much but wishing my answer was different. I do too. "Lissa and Natalie have said as much before, the rumours they heard, and no one's doing anything about it, are they?"

It kills me to say it. "No, I don't believe so."

She takes a deep breath and lets it out.

"There are more Stans, more Grants, more Masters, and Mistresses…that's what I want to change."

I stay with Rose until dusk, longer than I would dare in the house but here there's less risk of being overheard or walked in on. I slip into Victor's quiet suite and then into our quarters where is Ben snoring softly.

No sign of Spiridon.

I shower and change into workout clothes. Ben's alarm goes off for three minutes before he can drag himself up to turn it off.

"Gah!" He exclaims, catching sight of me kneeling to tie my shoes. "When did you sneak in?"

"A while ago but I got up the first time your alarm went off. What one are we on now? The sixth?"

"Funny. Where's the other one?"

"I have no idea." I admit, trying to ignore the feeling of unease.

Ben hauls himself up and staggers toward the bathroom.

"I spoke to Zoey yesterday. She said you did well, that they were impressed."

We hadn't really spoken since the meeting with Zmey when he demanded to know what gave me the right to ambush Rose, if I was so tactless and cruel. Come to think of it, even before that things had been different, somehow…off. Ben and I hadn't exactly been close but friendly, on better terms than with Spiridon, and often in agreement with each other. I'd been so occupied that I hadn't paid attention to the shift but thinking on it now…it had been strange since Thanksgiving.

He turns and leans against the narrow doorway, rubbing the back of his neck. "I think they're going to go for it which means it'll be full steam ahead to produce and roll out training sessions. Novices will be familiar enough and it'll just be a matter of refreshing us older folk."

I nod, novices train with an extensive array of weaponry weekly so those of us that have been off the mat and out of the classroom for years will need to re-familiarize ourselves.

"It's about time someone brought us forward, there's no one better suited than you." Surprise crosses his face before bottoming out into a modest press of his lips. There's an awkward silence and I clear my throat. "If you need anything or if I can't help anyway, let me know."

"Thanks, I uh, appreciate that. And if I can get you out of anything to do with Natasha I will." He exhales heavily. "How did things…get so fucked up?"

This is where I should end the conversation, just like I had in the basement but instead, I find myself saying, "I think they always have been, and we just didn't see it."

We sit with that for a moment and then I start toward the door.

"Dimitri. About what I said to you, I was out of order. Rose, explained it to me and –"

I wave him off. "You don't have to apologise for looking out for her. You've always been more considerate and compassionate and…it's no secret that those qualities have been deprecated in the past, even by myself but I think it makes you the best of us."

And then I walk out, away from his stunned face and away from where the conversation could lead. Where, in the back of my mind, I suspect I wanted it to.

The vast space of the gym is empty when I arrive. I make the most out of the machines and heavier weights we don't have at the house, pushing myself harder than I had in months and surprised at how well I manage. My body is finally getting back to where it had been before Estonia. I dial everything into the strain of my muscles and the centring control of my breathing, letting my mind become quiet.

It also comes to my attention how badly in need of a haircut I am, having to tie it in a knot at the nape of my neck to stop it from irritating me.

As I'm finishing, I spot Rose walking in with Mason Ashford and two other boys. The three of them seem to be having a verbal competition where her attention or reaction is the prize. If anything, she seems exasperated. One of the boys flicks her braid and the look she gives him could melt glass. She says something and then slides out of their circle, striding toward the mats where Zoey is throwing off her bag and beams at her in greeting.

Another thing Ben had gotten right.

Earlier, back in bed, I'd asked how she felt about facing the next day and if she needed time to herself to take it.

"No." She said into my shoulder, leg tucked between mine. "I won't shut myself away to think about it over and over again. It happened and I won't let it control me. I won't give them more of me. I'm going to train and then I'm going to spend time with my friends."

I kissed her head, inhaling the faint smell of winter berries and mint. She sounded resolute but it would be naïve to think this is something easily brushed off and moved past. It would take time to find peace with it and if she couldn't then we would deal with it. If it meant revealing the truth for her to heal, then I would deal with the consequences. I'd been prepared to, in every instance, from the moment I saw him. It was a weight I was willing to carry.

Mason Ashford spots me and it's unavoidable when he starts making his way toward me, cutting off my route to the exit.

"Guardian Belikov." He greets, determination plain on his face.

The last time I'd seen him I'd humiliated him in front of his friends and giants in the world. I could at least give him my time since an apology wouldn't go far, nor would it be welcomed…even if he is making propositions.

I incline my head. "Mason."

He lifts his chin. "Are you leading any of the classes while we're here? I know it's mostly our teachers, but I thought since Natasha is still holding hers and she's not technically a faculty member, and you've been assisting sometimes, so I was thinking that maybe you would lead one?"

His friends have drifted over behind him.

"I hadn't given much thought to it." I admit

I had planned to be on the public rota for a lot longer than a few days and whatever small gaps of free time I got between Victor and Natasha duty, I'd planned to try and spend with Rose.

"Could you?" Mason pushes and then glancing over his shoulder at his friends, he forces out. "You were right at Thanksgiving. Those of us that don't get offers we could end up in one of the zones and... we won't be ready."

I don't even have to deliberate. "Let me see what slots are open and if it fits with Victor's schedule."

All three of them trail me to the small office and wait outside. There's a slot first thing tomorrow evening and one two days from now that would proceed Zoey's lesson with weaponry. Tomorrow morning would also give me a visible excuse with Natasha. I'd be expected at some point to sit in on one of her lessons, but it won't be here, in the gym. It's not exactly inflammable.

I take the two slots and note down empty spaces on my rota should any other classes cancel.

Outside I tell Mason and his friends to meet back here tomorrow evening, emphasising to be well-rested. The likelihood someone would throw up is already high without adding a hangover to the formula.

"We'll be there. Thanks." Mason says seriously.

Beyond his shoulder Rose is doing push presses under Zoey's supervision but her attention is on us.

"Not every day you can learn from a God." His friend says with a smile that quickly drops.

I walk out wondering where Spiridon finds the time, or if he ensures he makes it, to make my life needlessly more difficult and uncomfortable.

She's ten minutes late.

I'd spent most of the night escorting Victor around, who was wound tight and feigning pleasantries when required, before coming back to the suite to shut himself in his room. Spiridon had appeared just as I was walking out the door and barely looked at me. He hadn't said anything and I can't decide if that's a good thing or not.

This wasn't the time to be thinking about it.

Moroi walk past me, paying me no attention, assuming I'm working but across the foyer, the Guardian at his post keeps glancing at me. I look like I've made a considerate effort to stand alert outside a prestige restaurant. Or I look like my charge has left me out here to wait.

"Dimka!"

Natasha finally appears, striding from the elevator with a small smile.

I try to match it. "I thought you'd forgotten about me."

"Unlikely." She says, sliding her arms around mine. Guilt begins to unspool in my stomach, and I remind myself that Rose and I had talked about this. That we will talk about this specifically. I will have nothing to hide. Not from her. "Come on, I'm famished. I took training, a spin class and a hot yoga class today."

I try to remember how it used to be, how this should go. "Try not to pass out in your food, I'm amazed you're standing."

"Oh, right I forgot. Nothing is impressive to you, not unless I opened with 'I did a triathlon and finished a novel'." I'm only half-listening to her as I scan the restaurant and miss my cue a second late to smile at the joke. She gives me a gentle shove. "You aren't working, so stop working."

Not true but I nod anyway.

She steps over to the maître d, whose curious eyes dart from her hold on my arm to her face before hastily plastering on a smile.

The restaurant is an ostentatious display of the Ivashkov wealth. The space itself could attest to their reputation, the opulence they're proud to display, and welcome everyone to share to an extent. The extent is measured in the value of your name and if it could win you one of the twenty tables. The wooden floor is so dark it shines, with no hint of a scuff mark or score from a high heel. The linen tablecloths are pristine and soft white, gold fixtures accented by the golden glow of the six chandeliers spotted around the room. There's a small bar behind the hosts' station, shelves of top brand liquor under spotlights.

Ben will have used Victor's name to secure a table and Natasha will think I did. She'll think I swallowed my pride and set aside my dignity in order to bring her here.

If my father knew I had stepped foot inside this place, to be treated as a respected patron…if my sisters knew…

Natasha gives my arm a gentle tug. A young Dhampir server is smiling and gesturing to us to follow her. My instinct is to fall back, shadow Natasha to the table which might divert some of the looks we are receiving, but she keeps a tight hold as if she can sense it. When we reach the table, in the centre of the goddamn room, I remember to pull out her chair.

Every table is filled with Moroi. The exception is the area on the right side where the floor is raised and cordoned off, for names with the most value.

I sit down, knowing what filled every whisper and what loaded every meaningful look between the guests.

A royal is wining and dining their Blood Whore.

Woodenly I take my seat and pretend I don't notice, just like she is. Small talk is easy and carries on after we've ordered but adrenaline is steadily dripping into my bloodstream.

Her hand closes over mine. "What's wrong?"

I swear I hear a woman's low gasp from somewhere over my shoulder. Gently I slide my hand out from under hers and reach for my wine glass. I need something to help.

"I feel like we're on display." I say, setting the glass back down. "I have a newfound empathy for zoo animals."

She smiles fully, fangs pearly in the low light. "I'm proud to be seen with you. Let them look and no doubt tomorrow they'll have something else to talk about."

I wish that were true. Victor had already fed back that there was talk among the other Coalition members about Natasha's personal life.

"What did you do today? Besides impersonate marble." She smiles around the lip of her glass.

"It's harder than it looks."

"Sure."

"I had Mason Ashford ask me if I was going to lead a class for novices. After what I did, I respect him approaching me so I booked a slot for early tomorrow evening and another in a few days."

Natasha sets down her glass and there's a pause that conveys I've annoyed her.

"You shouldn't let him play on your guilt like that."

"I didn't. If I can teach them something, even the smallest thing that could make a difference before they go into the field, then I should. The slots weren't filled, and I had the time so there's no reason not to."

"What do you think you're going to teach them that they haven't learned in the last eighteen years?" Her tone isn't sharp, just curious and somehow that's worse. "If they aren't ready six months out from graduating then two lessons won't make a difference."

"I don't know." I admit, keeping my voice low, conscious of straining ears. "But that's the point, I might teach them something they haven't learned, even a fraction of what to expect mentally. At the very least I have a lot of experience and can answer questions they may have."

She hums. "And what about our classes? Where are you making time for those?"

Ah.

I ignore the prickle of irritation and try to smile. "Natasha, I'm not neglecting my commitments. You said it yourself, they graduate in six months what we're trying to do is going to take time. And from what I hear you're a strong teacher, the Moroi learning to use their magic defensively is the priority. Using it alongside a Dhampir after."

Her hand slides across the white linen. "We're stronger together, a unit. The technical breakdown, yes, Moroi first, but it's what we represent together. Do you know how we look together, that itself is a symbol" Her icy eyes are searching for something in my face, but I keep it blank. "I know you don't like the attention, you never have, but it's bigger than you, us. Dimitri, we could do so much good. We're so good at what we do, that together we are a way to bridge things and lead people. Guardian's would look to you and the Moroi that want to be better, to me."

My shirt collar suddenly feels tight, an invisible noose around my neck ready to pull me up or drag me along.

How did the conversation even steer here?

She sighs and leans back, hand withdrawing and picking up her glass. "I know I'm getting ahead of myself, and it will take time, but I believe in this. So does Victor. We believe in you too, you just need to start believing in yourself."

I pick up my glass to buy some time because I'm lost for words.

"Your ambition has always been a force in itself."

She smiles again.

"I'm not the stay-at-home and let my husband run the world type." She picks up her menu. "Lissa reminds me of me when I was younger and questioning the set course designed for us. She and Christian are another fundamental part, I love that they have each other."

"Lissa is very socially aware." I murmur.

She hums. "She is wonderful. I'm just glad I can be someone to guide her, someone I wish I had when I was younger. Look at the people we were surrounded by, they were all the same. Products of their parents."

"Ivan wasn't."

She looks up and her face softens. "No, Ivan was different. He would stand with us if he were here. Probably smoothing the way with that unfaltering charm."

If he did support the initiative, which I'm almost certain that he would, he wouldn't allow Victor to pull strings behind how deemed to show it. Ivan could see people for what they were, their intentions, no matter what smokescreen they used. It took me years to see the parts of myself that he could.

A heavy ache moves slowly through my sternum, and I rub my hand over it.

"We'd likely have the classes instated by now." I return quietly, remembering that magnetic power he possessed, and it could even bend the will of Galina. Not for very long and it was strained but he managed.

Natasha's hand covers mine again, applying pressure. "We've never talked about what happened, not really."

I inhale and meet her eye. "And we don't need to."

She glances at the table next to us who have paused eating their meal. My fingers press into the table surface under her hand. It's a gesture I don't want to be a part of, one she has to know she's making to the surrounding Moroi.

"No, here isn't the time or place." She says and pulls back. "But It's for them too that we need to do this, Dimitri. Change things."

Irritation prickles down my spine and I take another drink to prevent myself from telling her that I already agreed with the initiative. I was part of it whether I liked it or not so there is no need to use Ivan, and what happened to his family, as means to manipulate me.

But I'm here for a purpose and it was better for the bigger picture to fulfil it.

The server appears to take or order, the young Dhampir remaining professional although her eyes keep flitting to me in curiosity.

I should have suggested a bar instead of this. I could have dragged Ben or Spiridon with me and a few of the other Guardians here we knew. Less pressure to perform under the spotlight we were currently under. I'd reacted too emotionally when Victor asked this of me, not thinking in terms of strategy that would achieve the desired outcome. I can't even suggest it to her now without looking like a coward or that I'm ashamed to be seen with her because I'm the one who supposedly set this up.

Natasha refills our glasses as the soft chatter of the restaurant adjusts and people focus on the company, they're with. The only way I can think of to divert the conversation to Lucas is to talk about my family and ignore how I feel about it. I tell her I sent Paul's gift to one of Karolina's old friends for her to pass along. I didn't know if my sisters had moved back into our old family home or somewhere new to make a home. I have the feeling it's the latter and it would also mean our father wouldn't find them immediately if he is looking.

The fact he isn't here and that my mother had left the accommodation I'd set up with Victor, leads me to believe they'd been united. Another thing I'd been trying not to think about.

It was never for me to try and control, my reasons and intentions aside.

"I could reach out to Karolina, test the waters." She offers.

The irritation works up to pins and needles, but my tone is mild. "I don't need you to plead my case for me, I think that would make them angrier. They need time and I won't take that from them."

Our soup arrives, and I thank the server, who smiles shyly. Looking around the room, what Rose had said about the workforce here seems starker somehow. Only the matrie d' is Moroi.

Our server asks if there's anything else she can help with and Natasha waves her away.

"Thank you, for being so thoughtful about my situation... I'm sorry I haven't reciprocated that. I'm ashamed to admit that I hadn't thought of how difficult everything must have been for you, for Christian."

The surprise on her face makes it worse, for more than one reason.

I continue with my lies. "I don't blame you for being angry with me and my…ignorance. Fortunately for me, you do know me well enough."

"I forgave you for that." She says, smiling at me in a way that ensures I pull my hand out of reach. "It's been difficult, for us both and we hadn't communicated what had been going on with us individually and I think we just took it out on each other. You misplaced your frustrations, Rose being around has been difficult and my…family being connected to it made it all cross wires for you. But you were right about us wiping the slate clean and making sure our friendship is about us."

I didn't have an appetite to begin with and now the wine turns to acid in my stomach.

"About us and talking about what matters. What Lucas and Moira did, that's difficult for you and I failed to think about you in the situation." I look her in the eye and lie through my teeth. "You are the one holding together the pieces together."

She inhales deeply, pride shining on her face, and then tries to sound modest. "It hasn't been easy. The classes have been a good distraction and something for Christian to focus on. Lissa's been good for him too but…he won't talk about them. He's said…something along the lines of they are as good as dead to him but I know he's just hurting, he's just as much a victim of all this."

Inhale. Exhale.

She sighs and lifts her glass. "I know the timing isn't right now but I think if Rose would give him that chance it would ease the burden he's feeling. And…if Lucas knew he was more open to having a conversation with them, allowing them back into his life then he would stop being so cold."

I feel made of marble, will myself to remain that way. "You've spoken to him?"

She takes another drink. Across the floor two of the bar staff are whispering and looking at us.

"Yes. Not for very long. I didn't recognise the number so when I nearly dropped my phone when he spoke."

Our food forgotten I reach for my glass. It tastes like vinegar, but I needed something to steady myself and to also appear engaged, absorbed in our conversation. Not sitting rigidly ready to crack.

"It's wishful thinking to assume he apologized and begged for your forgiveness, isn't it?"

She lets out a short puff of laughter. "You know what they say about assuming. It makes an 'ass' out of 'you and me'."

"I have a good grasp on the English language but that's a terrible phrase."

Her cheeks have pinkened as the wine takes advantage of her untouched soup. "I would try to translate it but I think it would be worse. He didn't apologise. He acted like it hadn't happened at first. He mostly asked about Christian…how school was, how his relationship with Lissa was going, and if he was coming with her here for Christmas. Then I made the mistake of asking about his and Moira's plans for the holidays, he makes me nervous, and the more stupid he makes me feel the more I seem to act like it. He told me he'd be remaining at Court because of my doing." She shakes her head and takes another deep drink. I hold up the bottle to refill it for her, top-up my own for the sake of mirroring behaviour. "Not once did he ask me about how I'm doing. I'mthe one keeping our family's reputation afloat. I'm the one that deals with businesses and the two wineries that went on strike in Turkey. I'm the reason they can afford to sit around at Court. Victor's not exactly asking much of them, but they make it sound like they're suffering."

"Is everything to your satisfaction, Lady Ozera?" Our server asks.

Natasha looks at her bowl in surprise. "Yes, sorry. We're too busy talking. It says something when the company is better than the food here."

"Would you like a fresh dish?"

"No, you can just take it away. Dimitri, you're done, aren't you?" I nod and she clears the table. "I hate when they interrupt like that. It's like they're trying to overhear something."

I make a noise of acknowledgment because If I open my mouth, I'm not entirely sure what would come out but then it's no longer an issue as I spot the newest guests to the restaurant.

Nathan, Daniella, and Adrian Ivashkov stand by the door, the matrie d' beaming with enthusiasm as they reach out to clasp Nathans's hand. His hair is more silver than it has been in Estonia, a sign of stress possibly or a deliberate choice. The Coalition valued age, deeming it to equal wisdom and experience. Beside Nathan his wife, Daniella, has her arm linked through her sons, her fine features arranged into a pleasant expression at the welcome they are receiving. Her ebony hair is pulled back into a neat bun and adorned with a slide of pearl and glittering gems I didn't doubt were anything but genuine.

Adrian's eyes are roaming from table to table, boredom clear on his features, until his gaze lands on our table and pause.

I turn back to Natasha who hasn't noticed.

"We know who he got it from and let's just be grateful you didn't turn out the same way." I say, groping for the right words.

She hums. "At least he cares about how Christian is doing. Although he got really hung up on the fact we're in the Emerald suites instead of Sapphire. You know what he's like about how he likes things, so particular, any variation, and he –"

A shadow falls over the table.

Natasha's expression smoothes out, leaving it cold and sharp.

"Natasha." Nathan greets, signature green eyes trained on her and pointedly ignoring me.

The chatter that had just about recovered since we entered begins to flatline.

"Hello, Nathan." I catch sight of an older Moroi woman openly glaring at us three tables away. When she notices I'm looking she turns her chin sharply, whispering furiously to her husband. "Are you having a nice Christmas? How is the family? I heard Daniella arrived late. Was she unwell?"

God, she had nerve. Reckless and arrogant audacity that only a Royal could use. That or she was a lot more drunk than I previously thought.

Nathan's waxen expression tightens, smile brittle beneath his moustache. "We are, thank you for asking. And thank you for enquiring after her health but she is well, last-minute commitments needed her tending."

"Ah. Well, I knew it would take hell or high water to prevent her from missing the ball on New Year."

"Yes, she takes great pride in being part of the planning and representing her family with the other dignified ladies who represent their own."

"Sounds very fulfilling, good for her." Natasha says, laughing lightly and lifting her wine glass.

"On the topic of family, this is a family-friendly establishment." Nathan says in a hushed tone that carries. "And this is not acceptable behaviour to flaunt. You should know better."

Natasha has her eyes trained on me, the coldness in her face plummeting to frozen depths.

Rigidly she tilts her chin up. "Know better?"

He doesn't say anything because he doesn't have to.

I'm wound tight, focusing on every inhale and exhale.

"What exactly is unacceptable? Besides what you're charging for the bread alone."

"Natasha, please. Have some discretion, what you do in your suite is your business, but you do not drag it in here as a show of your…rebellious nature."

"I still don't know what you mean."

I can't take it anymore, that and the fact every table is now openly watching the exchange.

"Natasha, let's go." I murmur.

She holds up her palm to me and my bones could crack from how hard I tense.

"Listen to your…escort." Nathan says pityingly. "You are making a show of yourself."

"You are the one centre stage. Just because when you have the company of a Dhampir it is in the shadows and behind closed doors, does not mean that the rest of us do. Dimitri and I have a working relationship, one that you are well aware of but are trying to degrade in a room full of witnesses."

"I'm not trying." He returns levelly. "But I am asking you to leave before you're made to."

I don't give her the opportunity to keep arguing as I stand. The only sound is the bustle from the kitchen in the background. Natasha's nostrils flare as I concede defeat for us, but she rises, hooking her bag onto her shoulder. I pull out my wallet and drop a few notes for the server. The silence is deafening as we cross the floor. The humiliation is burning so strongly I want to climb out of my skin. It doesn't dissipate when we make it through the doors and into the foyer.

"Why did you stand up?" She seethes. "We had every right to be there!"

She did. She had every right.

"Nathan didn't think so." I hear myself saying tonelessly. "It's not going to help us convince everyone to our way of thinking if we're openly antagonising a Coalition member. On his property, when his generosity is the reason most of them feel safe." I inhale deeply, putting up a barrier to her sparking anger so it doesn't kindle anything in me. I school my expression and meet her eye. "It's my fault for suggesting that place. I should have known better, but I wanted you to enjoy yourself. I'm sorry I embarrassed you."

Her temper wanes, the coldness retreating so she looks less like her brother. "He's an asshole. You didn't do anything wrong, we weren't doing anything wrong."

"I know that, but I was a bit too optimistic with my choice."

She makes a show of looking around. "I think if we went somewhere else, he'll have the staff alert him."

"Most likely."

"Leaves us with very little choice." She grins. "Unless we grab a bottle and sit outside in the snow. It'll be just like graduation night."

"I think you remember that more fondly than I do."

"Surprised you remember anything. Well, I guess that leaves us with my room then. At least the bar is already paid for." She starts walking to the elevator and I have no choice but to follow her.

The humiliation is a receding tide that's revealing everything I've tried to close out.

Inhale. Exhale.

The elevator dings and we're prevented from stepping inside as we come face to face with Ethan Moore. He nods at me and then tells Natasha that he was on his way to find her. Christian has gotten himself into trouble and was currently waiting with Ellen Kirova.

I make use of the exit that's presented itself

As soon as I open the door to Victor's suite I'm hit with a wall of voices and laughter. A Guardian is posted in the corner of the living room and through the double doors to the dining room, a poker game is in full swing.

I catch sight of the figure on the balcony and stride across the room. The cold is a welcoming embrace and I slide the door shut to seal out the noise. The navy sky is an oppressive blanket above us, stretching miles out to the horizon where lightning hues are beginning to lift it. From this vantage point, we have a view of the deep valley below and it's like the scene depicted in Rose's snowglobe. The chalet village looks like small gingerbread houses with lights aglow, a fairy tale place that's out of reach. In the silence, I can faintly hear a steady beat of music from another party.

"Aw, don't you look nice. How was your date?"

I'm not sure if it's the needed quiet that means I can't ignore the noise in my head, or if it's his voice that's the last straw.

"What are we doing?" I ask hollowly, turning to Spiridon where he lounges back on a chair with his boots propped on the rail.

He raises an eyebrow. "Was it that bad?"

The dam cracks, uncontrollable pressure that had long been suppressed behind it. "What the fuck are we doing here?"

"This is a really fun game but you're going to need –"

"What are we doing!" I yell and he sits up, throwing a look back into the room. "What difference have we made? I came here, you convinced me to come here because we'd be working for something bigger. We'd be behind the scenes ensuring the bigger picture stayed intact, if not was made stronger. And what have we done? We've not prevented any attacks, we've made an enemy out of a cult that is doing more for people on the ground than we have or The Guard seems to be doing. I was doing more when I was in the field than I've done here. We are preened bodyguards for someone who finds more value in parading us than using us."

I take long, icy lungfuls of air as his stone-cold eyes watch me warily. "We unearthed one of the biggest atrocities, that we know of, and we did nothing. Lucas Ozera is sitting at Court complaining that he isn't here and that his son won't talk to him. He should be complaining he has no hope for parole or a second hearing."

"Dimitri, calm down." He warns quietly.

"Tell me. Tell me what we're doing to instrument this big change. To ensure survival. The crown is reinstated and then what happens?"

"I don't know." He snaps, suddenly on his feet. "Do you think we have a big whiteboard somewhere with five-step plan on how to fix twenty-something years of chaos? Do you not think it's something we're taking steps toward every day to make things better for everyone? We stopped the age vote, that's what we've done."

"For conscription to potentially take its place!"

"We…we won't let that happen either."

I throw up my hands and it's all unraveling. "So, then what is going to happen? To win what is essentially mounting to be a war? What the fuck are we doing about it?"

Spiridon glances back through the glass at the Guardian stationed in the room. The noise from the Moroi would be enough to blanket our conversation but even so, they could clearly see we were getting into something.

"Is this about yesterday?" He says quietly, keeping his face angled away so his lips can't be read.

"Of course, it's about yesterday." I bite at him. "Stan should have been in prison but instead he was here. Here in a winter paradise taking public patrol around children, around families, around students who are drunk half the time. And he was right in what he said to us – there is no real justice, only power, and connections. Lucas and Moira still have that, they will always have that because of the way Victor played his hand."

"Until Victor's hand is the only play." He lashes back. "Then they will be brought forward for a trial with the evidence that we have. When Natasha or Christian have taken the title with enough respect under them that it's not challenged. People need to accept the Moroi learning to fight before we can do that."

I glare at him, the cold seeping into my blood. "And what else are Ben and I not privy to? The Ozera's supervision being lifted isn't about protecting the people around them, it's about rewarding them. It's about tempering them to Victors' will."

"Both can be one in the same."

"And what about the Strigoi, what plans do we have to bring to the Guard about that? Besides what Ben has done. He is the only one of us doing something for the greater good and this entire time we've treated him like he's the soft spot in the armour."

"Ironic statements now, wow. You are on a roll."

"You playing the asshole card isn't going to cut it here." His smirk cuts deeper, rising to the challenge because neither one of us ever knew when to back down. "My day started with finding you unconscious after being someone's plaything for next to nothing. My day ended with making sure Rose could handle the fact I'd killed someone in front of her. I don't know how you can believe we're on the side of things that are good."

"Because I have to!" He hisses, stepping toward me. "Otherwise, what have I been doing all these years? What have I done any of it for? I've done it to earn my name, I've done it to protect Natalie and I've done everything because I believe in him the same way he believed in me. I owe him –"

"No, you don't."

Spiridon sneers, shaking his head and turning away. I had hit the core thread, the base of his beliefs in his value here with Victor - he feels indebted to him. His identity is embedded in this position.

He turns back to me with contempt. "Do you know what your problem is? You went to Red Zones and became so god damn high on yourself. You think because you went straight into the thick of it you have a better understanding of morality, that you possess it. At least before you left you knew you were an asshole."

"What I am doesn't negate what we're discussing, does it? Ben is the only reason there is going to be an impact on how things change. On how we survive. And we can deliberate ethics all night but The Circle is making an impact too and Victor? Victor is playing poker."

The space between us is so charged it should melt the glass behind me. I've said too much and probably not enough. I've said most of the things I've had to suppress or pass over, moving on to the next immediate issue until it's finally come to that which cannot be undone.

Spiridon sucks on his teeth. "I don't know what's happened recently, whether it's your sisters, this Natasha thing, or even your incessant worrying about Rose – but get your shit together. I don't care if you need to go drink yourself into a black hole, fighting, fucking whatever. Get it together because you're in this and you need to see it through."

The wind cuts between us as we stare at each other and…and the fight starts to drain out of me. Because he's right. What did anything I've said matter? What did interrogating him change?

All it's done is paint me to be a liability and potential problem. All it's done is remind me I'm in something I can't navigate my way out of, that I've entrenched myself deeper into and dragged Rose with me.

"We need to believe in something and he's the best we have." Spiridon reasons, an undercurrent of desperation in his voice. "And it might have to get worse before it gets better but we're built for worse, to endure."

To endure combat. To face dead, soulless creatures…not navigate the politics of the living ones.

"Dimitri, you don't sleep and you haven't processed the last, I don't know, week at least. Drink a beer, take a Xanax and stop having an existential crisis."

Laughter wells from inside and someone who sounds like Eric Dragomir is shouting above it.

"I'm going to stay in Rose's suite where I might be able to do that. I'm taking a class tomorrow morning, not with Natasha and I'll be back to escort Natalie to the luncheon." My voice has slipped back into that monotone state.

I tell him all I gleaned from Natasha, that Lucas had asked after Christian, his whereabouts, and social life. I tell him with my eyes trained on the village below and with a longing to disappear into it, that Rose and I could. Then I walk away, leaving him out there and into the chaos of voices that grate along my frontal lobe.

Ben's working on his laptop in the small room as I wrench the shirt off and blindly pull something else on. I tell him I'll be staying in Rose's room tonight if he needs me, sleeping on her couch. He doesn't say anything, likely using that sensibility of his and bearing in mind where I'd been and who I'd been with. Spiridon can fill him in with his version of things.

I let myself into Rose's empty suite and drop the bag I'd packed. The silence meets me and I don't know if I should welcome it or be disappointed, daunted by it...because I realise I was covertly hoping she was here. Maybe it's better she isn't, it isn't right to put my inability to hold it together on her too.

I make up the couch encase Ben or Spiridon do come looking for me and it might be best I do stay out here, as ridiculous as that seems. I don't see how I'm going to sleep and I don't want that to affect her too.

I text Rose letting her know I'm in her room and if she's bringing her friends back I'll leave. I keep it short and to the point, the same as the few messages I've sent her.

I just needed an hour or so to be, to calm down and centre myself, and if that fails I'll go back to the gym until I physically can't stand anymore.

I stare at the ceiling until my phone buzzes.

R: Coming back now. Alone.

Thirty minutes later the door beeps and I haven't moved an inch.

Rose's hair is loose, spilling down around a red jumper that's cropped at the waist where her skirt is fastened. I have a fondness for that skirt, it's the same one she'd worn to the market and red...red suits her.

She latches the door and moves toward me, concern bright on her face and the selfish part of me is in indulged by it. It's still...new, having someone care beyond the surface pleasantries, beyond the scope of how it will influence my job.

"I hope you didn't leave because of me. I didn't mean to make you worry."

"No. Everyone was drinking, and things aren't that funny when you're the only person not." She sits down beside me, toeing off her boots. "Also, there's a class tomorrow evening I don't want to miss."

"Mason told you about that?"

She tucks her legs up under her. "Mason's told everyone about it…then regretted it I think. A lot of people signed up for the God's class."

"Ah."

Her fingers drift over the back of my neck and gently start rubbing the tense muscle. My eyes close, coerced by the motions that are trying to encourage the stress to ease.

After a few moments, her soft voice asks, "Are you okay?"

"No." I admit, swallowing against the instinct to close off. "And…I don't know where to begin, if any of it even matters in terms of being said. I got into it with Spiridon and that was a mistake."

She doesn't push but keeps kneading out the knots and we sit there. It hits me that there's no pressure to talk, to explain, to quickly fillet the mass of noise in my head to appease her – that she's content to wait for me to do it my own time. Just letting me be

And in the silence that speaks volumes.

*Likely will come back and edit again, oh I don't know, fifteen more times but things read differently to me on the site than they do on my word document.
*RPOV next.