It was a concession to allow the colonel to enter first—and a show of respect. It mirrored the respect Colonel Kachusov showed when he addressed Sebastian with the honorary ‘Your Highness.’ Baby steps, perhaps, but in the course of their long-standing feud, it was important.
Aware of the attention on them, Sebastian gave Kachusov the preference of seat choice. The decision acknowledged the colonel’s position in his own country, and emphasized Sebastian’s graciousness. It also allowed Sebastian to keep his back to the wall. Vidal’s tension wouldn’t be noticeable to their guests, but Sebastian didn’t have to look at his bodyguard to feel the waves of rolling off him.
But it’s dangerous…Meredith’s voice whispered through his soul and he couldn’t find fault with her assessment, however, he had every reason to live. The colonel finally sat, electing a chair near the center and closer to the door. Circling around, Sebastian took the seat opposite him.
They’d both ignored the head of the table and the implication of power inherent to the seat. Side twinging with phantom pain where he’d been stabbed, Sebastian reached forward and punched in the number on conference room phone, speaker on. “Your Highness,” he addressed his brother and kept it formal when he answered. “Colonel Kachusov would like a word with us directly.”
“Thank you, Sebastian.” Neutrality echoed in the words. “Colonel.”
Ice would have been warmer than the colonel’s expression. “Your Highness, or should I say Imperial Majesty?”
“Your Highness is sufficient for now.” Armand’s smooth reply did nothing to relieve the strained atmosphere.
“Then let us speak bluntly, Your Highness. When I was in Los Angeles, you assured me your interest in returning to Belaria to sit on a throne did not exist.” Tiny white lines tightened around the colonel’s mouth and his brow seemed permanently furrowed.
“That was before the airstrike and the latest chatter which met Grand Duchess Alyxandretta’s announcement.” His brother’s response actually surprised Sebastian. Armand, it seemed, was also done playing. “For months, all we have heard from Belaria is a stream of invectives against our family and the purchasing of bounties on our heads.”
“You cannot prove the last event came from anyone under my command.” Kachusov ‘s rage was a palpable force in the room. Mikael shifted uncomfortably at the latent hostility in the colonel’s voice. “And Belaria does not need pampered royalty to act as our figureheads. We’ve done fine without your family for decades.”
“Yet, you don’t deny your complicity. If you are not ready to discuss this matter, Colonel, we can certainly bring it up during my visit next summer.” The verbal gauntlet landed in the room like a live grenade with the pin pulled.
The colonel’s hand clenched into a fist and the temperature in the room shifted. Vidal was no longer standing by the wall. He’d moved like a ghost to shadow Sebastian.
“Brave words from a man several thousand miles away. Especially since your brother sits here at my mercy.”
In for a keg of dynamite, Sebastian tossed the final match. “You don’t have mercy in you, Colonel. If you did, you wouldn’t have begun your negotiations with the tip of the sword at our throats. As I pointed out to your cousin,” Sebastian didn’t have to look at Mikael to know he’d blanched at the colonel’s reaction. Nor did he dare take his attention off the greatest threat in the room. “You started this private war. We’re giving you this single opportunity to end it peaceably.”
“Or what?” The colonel slammed to his feet and his fist hit the table. Redness infused his face and his jaw tightened.
Vidal set a digital tablet on the table and slid it across. “Or this.”
Silence stretched across the room as the colonel paged through the images. Sebastian had seen them earlier and approved the tactic. They’d gathered photos of every single member of the Kachusov family—at their homes, on the job, and even shots of the newest member, an infant who hadn’t yet left the hospital. It made Sebastian sick to his stomach to consider what they were implying, but men like Colonel Kachusov understood no language outside of brutality.
“You wouldn’t dare.” But, for the first time, Kachusov didn’t sound certain.
“Try us,” Armand replied into the deadly quiet. “I dare you.”
Leaning back and manufacturing a calm he certainly didn’t feel, Sebastian dangled the carrot. “Or, I can walk out there and make a statement of support for a democratic Belaria. I can emphasize how invested the Andraste family—and, by extension, the Dagmar Foundation—is to supporting the dream, no royal strings attached.”
Knuckles down against the table, the colonel didn’t answer immediately. “I need time to consider this.”
“Tick tock, Colonel. The offer expires when you walk out the door.” Sebastian could practically hear the grim smile in hisbrother’s voice. Any other alternative could give the colonel time to take another shot at them.
Apparently, it was enough to encourage the colonel to retake his chair. “What measure of assurance do we have to ensure you won’t change your minds?”
“The exact same amount we have that you won’t come at us again.” Sebastian shrugged.
“You’re suggesting we simply trust one another?” The colonel’s tone said he didn’t like it.
Neither did Sebastian. “Exactly.”
The colonel’s gaze went back to the tablet. Sebastian’s gut twisted. The other man blinked first, but if he tested them, it would be up to them to make it happen. “I do not believe you would target children.”
Sebastian didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. Silence, in this instance, was a far better tactic. He let all kindness bleed out of him. It dripped the way his blood had when their blade dug into his flesh, nicked his ribs and sliced into his lung. He’d tasted the bubble of death as it choked him and the icy shroud threatened to take him away from everyone and everything he loved. Their actions had compounded his injury to Meredith.
The idea that this man—this one man—could come at them again, could come at her? No. Sebastian would kill him first. The nightmare needed to end. Kachusov met his gaze. Whatever he saw in Sebastian’s face must have been enough to sway him. “We will accept your terms, but know, if you cross us…only your blood will satisfy the injury.”
“Let us be explicit, as well. My family will continue as it always has. We will devote our time and our resources to helping others and leave your politics to your political parties. We will not endorse you nor will we condemn you. However, if even one drop of Andraste blood is spilled—one—then we’re coming for you and God help your family because we will not stop untilyour whole line is exterminated.” It wasn’t an empty threat. In this, Armand and Sebastian were utterly united. They were done running.
