Kirill's expression darkens. His scar flexes. He booms, "Did something happen?"
"Not yet. But every second I'm with him, I'm risking my life," I state.
"You're being dramatic."
"Would you keep a driver for Fiona who got head-locked by a passenger?"
Kirill doesn't answer.
I scoff, "Exactly."
"You'll get a new driver. You can use Fiona's for the next week until it's voted on," he offers.
"Fine. Thank you. Speaking of meetings, you have to change it to the daytime."
"I can't do that, Valentina."
"Why not? You're the king," I remind him.
He groans and scrubs his hand over his face. Then he pins his eyes on me, clenching his jaw.
"You are!"
He asserts, "You know there are boundaries of what I can do. Royal Council meetings are always at 9 p.m. while the moon is out."
I put my hand on my hip. "Then Brax and Sean need to be excused."
"It's a mandatory meeting. All meetings after new seats are taken are mandatory," he informs.
My voice quivers. "They have graveyard duty. They can't get out of it."
Kirill's breath comes out heavy.
I order, "Strike the right deal, Kirill. Remind them Brax is under your eye and Sean is the Chosen One. Remind them that if Brax and Sean lose O'Malley clan privileges, harmony will not exist in the Underworld."
He studies me, and his lips twitch.
"This isn't funny!" I seethe.
He chuckles. "You're thinking like someone at the table."
I take a few breaths to calm down, then I nod. "Then make it happen."
He nods. "I'll declare they must be excused for critical security measures."
Relief slices through me, quick and thin. "Thank you." I turn to go.
He calls out, "Valentina. There's one more thing."
I spin, lifting my eyebrows.
His face turns serious. "You know they can't stay on graveyard duty for six months. There won't always be exceptions granted."
My chest tightens. I admit, "I know."
"I'll call Fiona's driver for you."
"Thank you."
