“And what did Arkady need?” I hold his gaze.
Maksim’s mouth curves in quiet satisfaction. “A point of leverage.”
There it is.
“Leverage,” I repeat, and it tastes like rust.
A brief flash of triumph glints in his eyes. “He wanted to see how you would respond. That’s all.”
That’s not all. Tests are never only tests. They’re invitations. They’re challenges disguised as necessity.
“Confirm the objective,” I tell him. “What information did Arkady expect Ivan to extract?”
Maksim hesitates, then speaks as if the details are obvious. “Arkady wanted the inside of your world. Rowan moves in it. She hears things. She sees things.”
My jaw tightens at her name on his tongue. “Ivan was brought in to access her.”
“To access what she knows,” he corrects, and then adds, “To access you.”
The room feels colder, even under the harsh fluorescent light.
“You participated,” I remind him, my voice still even. “You moved resources. You coordinated men.”
He leans forward as far as the cuffs allow. “I served the future. You should have done the same.”
I give him nothing. “You believe Arkady should replace me?”
He doesn’t deny it. His eyes brighten, as if he’s been waiting for the question. “Arkady has the spine for it.”
“And I don’t?”
“You had it,” he responds, “before she became your weakness.”
He lets the word weakness do its work. He wants it to get under my skin. He wants me to lose control so he can point at it and claim he was right.
I breathe in through my nose. Slowly enough that my voice stays level.
“You don’t understand what this is.”
He lifts his eyebrows. “No?”
“This isn’t romance. This isn’t sentiment.” I take another step closer, letting him feel my presence without raising my voice. “This is territory. She’s in my territory. And Arkady violated it.”
Maksim’s mouth twitches as if he wants to argue, then he tries a different angle. “Arkady wants a stronger Sovarin. Apakhanwho can’t be moved.”
“Apakhanwho can’t be moved,” I repeat, and the repetition makes the sentence sound like what it is. Propaganda.
He watches me, waiting.
I tilt my head slightly. “Ivan.”
Maksim’s eyes narrow.
“Tell me what Ivan promised Arkady.” I keep my voice quiet, forcing him to lean in with his attention.
His lips part, then close. The hesitation is small, but it exists. I notice everything.
“You don’t know,” I conclude.
