“That might take a while.” His smile is watery but real. “I have a lot of complaints about the food here. And my roommate snores. And—”
Movement behind me. Roman approaches, his footsteps careful and measured, giving us space while making his presence known.
Mishka’s expression shifts. The joy dims, replaced by something wary and assessing that makes him look older than fourteen.
“You broughthim.”
“He wanted to come.” I turn slightly, keeping one hand on Mishka’s shoulder while Roman stops a respectful distance away. “He wanted to meet you properly. Not as—” I search for words. “Not as the man from January.”
“The man who took my sister.” Mishka’s voice has gone flat. “The man who put guards on me and didn’t tell me why.”
Roman inclines his head, accepting the accusation without defense. “Da. That man. And the one who should have done it differently.”
Mishka’s eyes narrow. “Should have done what differently?”
“Everything.” Roman takes a single step closer, his left hand visible and empty at his side. “I should have explained. Protectedinstead of threatened. Earned your trust instead of assuming I had the right to your sister because a contract said so.”
The courtyard goes quiet except for the wind and distant teenage voices, and my heart is pounding in my ears.
“Anya tells me you play chess,” Roman continues. “That you beat her three times out of five.”
“Four out of five.” Mishka’s chin lifts.
“Impressive.” Something shifts in Roman’s expression—genuine interest. “She beat me the first time we played. Twelve moves. I’ve never forgiven myself.”
“Twelve?” Mishka looks at me with raised eyebrows. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“It didn’t seem relevant.”
“It’s extremely relevant.” For the first time, something other than hostility enters Mishka’s voice. “Which opening did he use?”
“Sicilian.” I watch the two of them with my heart in my throat. “He was trying to intimidate me.”
“With the Sicilian?” Mishka actually snorts. “That’s a beginner move.”
“I’m aware.” Roman’s mouth curves just slightly. “Your sister made me aware in considerable detail. While taking my queen with a knight sacrifice, I still can’t fully explain.”
“Bishop to c4 before the sacrifice?”
“Da.”
“Double attack setup. Creates a pin she can exploit three moves later.” Mishka’s posture has shifted, his shoulders coming down from his ears as the chess talk pulls him out of defensive mode. “She’s predictable like that. Always sets traps four moves ahead.”
“I noticed.” Roman looks at me with warmth that spreads in my chest. “She does the same thing in real life.”
Mishka processes this.
“You’re still dangerous,” he says to Roman. “The guards, the glass, the people following me. That’s because of what you are.”
“Yes.”
“And my sister is dangerous now, too. Because of you.”
“Because of choice.” Roman doesn’t flinch from the accusation. “I gave her tools. She decided how to use them. And she chose to become something powerful enough to protect what she loves.”
“Something that kills people.”
“Something that protects her brother.” Roman’s voice stays steady. “Something that would burn the world before letting anyone hurt you. Is that the kind of monster you want to hate, Mishka? The kind that exists because your sister loves you more than her own soul?”
