Viktor's mouth twitched. “Brave. Or stupid.”
“Why not both?”
“Is good combination for short life.” But Viktor stepped back slightly. “Do not wander, Mr Hartley. Palace has many ways to make problems disappear.”
He left. Cal waited until Viktor was out of earshot before speaking. “Your friends are intense.”
“They're protective.”
“Of you or the prince?”
“Both.” I scanned the room, checking positions. The crowd had thickened near the west side. Too many bodies, not enough sight lines. “Stay where I can see you.”
“I always do.” But his attention was already moving past me, tracking faces, cataloguing connections. “Now stop hovering. You're making us both look suspicious.”
He moved into the crowd before I could stop him, and I was left watching him disappear among diplomats and prosecutors like he'd been attending palace functions his entire life.
Viktor foundme ten minutes later near the bar, ostensibly monitoring the ballroom but actually tracking Cal's movement through the crowd.
“West terrace needs checking,” Viktor said. “Two guests arguing about trade policy. Voices rising.”
“Mm.”
“Dom.”
“I'm listening.”
“You are watching him.” Viktor's tone carried amusement. “Has been fifteen minutes. You have not looked at security monitors once.”
“I'm monitoring a potential risk.”
“Da. Very dangerous man who discusses wine pairings with ambassador's wife.” Viktor moved to stand beside me. “He is good at this. Better than you expected, I think.”
Cal was currently making a prosecutor laugh with some observation I couldn't hear from this distance. His body language was perfect—engaged but not overeager, confident but not arrogant. Every interaction looked effortless.
“Dom,” Viktor said again.
“What?”
“I said west terrace needs checking. Arguments escalating.”
“You handle it.”
“I am handling close protection.” Viktor's comm crackled. He listened, then swore quietly in Russian. “Is getting louder.Ambassador from Germany, very drunk, very angry about sanctions. Need to remove before becomes scene.”
“Fine. Go.”
Viktor didn't move. “You did not hear anything I just said.”
“I heard all of it. German ambassador. Drunk. Sanctions. Handle it.”
“I said French ambassador. Not drunk. Angry about fishing rights.” Viktor's expression stayed neutral but something amused flickered behind his eyes. “You are distracted.”
“I'm focused.”
“On him. Not on job.” But Viktor's tone had gone gentler. “He fits here. You did not expect that.”
I didn't answer. Couldn't, really, because Viktor was right. I'd expected Cal to stand out, to be obviously out of place. Instead he moved through the crowd like he belonged, and that bothered me more than it should have.
