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"It'll be fine," she says, splaying a hand on my chest above where I cradle my son. "You'll see."

For once, it's her reassuring me and not the other way around.

"I just want things to go well." My chest is tight, my mind locked back in St. Petersburg in our old apartment. It's been a few months and I've kept the rent up, but there's no way to vanish like that again. Running off will only mean our families fall right back into the fighting. Someone has to stick around and make sure this cease-fire is permanent.

"We could run," she says playfully. “I think there's a car around back we could take. I heard Perm is beautiful over Christmas."

We have only a few weeks left until Christmas now too, but though the idea is tempting and I might very much enjoy vanishing forever, it's not the right choice. Sighing, I tell her as much. "We can't. But one day, we'll buy a home and⁠—"

"You guys ready?" Alexei asks, poking his head out of the council chamber doors. Alana steps back, giving me space, and takes Misha from my arms again.

"Let's go," she says quietly, and I pick up the diaper bag and follow her.

I step through the doors behind Alana with the sense of just how important this meeting is today. She sits near the back, cradling Misha, and I sit beside her, placing the diaper bag at my feet. Alexei and Natalia take chairs in front of us, but we're joined in solidarity. My father sits beside Nikolai and Irina, and for now, neither of them looks hostile, but the tension between them hums like a live wire.

Mr. Petrov stands at the head of the table, shuffling his papers while waiting for the room to settle. When he clears his throat, the sound cuts through the low murmur of conversation, causing all eyes to rise and focus on him.

"Welcome," he says with authority. He's rather calm today considering the topic at hand and what's at stake. What they decide could make or break this city, whether he believes it or not. "Thank you all for coming. The council has reviewed the matters before us extensively. We've examined the evidence presented regarding the cover-up of Ivan Sokolov’s crimes, the subsequent escalation of hostilities, and the roles played by both families in perpetuating this conflict."

He pauses, looking at each of us in turn, his eyes lingering on my father and Nikolai longer than the rest.

"We've reached a decision regarding the grievances presented," he continues. "But first, there's other business that requires our immediate attention."

My father shifts, and I can see him bristling at being made to wait. He's never been patient with formalities or the slow grind of process. He wants action and resolution. I crack my knuckles and stretch an arm out around Alana's shoulders, listening to the speaker but stealing glances at my boy still sleeping peacefully.

Mr. Petrov sets down his papers and folds his hands in front of him. "The Korelovs are in full retreat," he announces, and the news ripples outward through the waiting room. "Your men, working together for the first time in five years, coordinated an assault that drove them from three neighborhoods. The shared enemy created an unexpected and effective alliance."

He looks at my father, then at Nikolai, and his expression says it all. The council is pleased with the response to hostility facing our territory from outsiders who refuse to yield to their power, and seeing our families take that seriously has made its mark.

"This presents a chance for peace," he says carefully. "Perhaps we might finally have an opportunity for this ceasefire to bring peace to a city that has only seen fighting and bloodshed for so long, we don’t remember what peace looks like."

My father leans forward, his eyes lighting up. It's humiliating how easily he takes credit for success when he had no interest in the shared mission to begin with. But his ego won't allow him to yield that spotlight to anyone, least of all a Volskaya. "A shared enemy creates common ground," he says, adding a touch of his own person flair as he smooths his tie down his chest. "Perhaps this is what we've needed to bind the families together."

Nikolai taps his fingers on the table and snags his portion of credit too. It almost makes me chuckle as Alana rolls her eyes. "Working together against the Korelovs," he says slowly, "proved we can accomplish things together."

"Exactly." My father leans closer to Nikolai like they're old friends rather than men who've tried to kill each other. I can't really tell if they're being serious about this or if it's all an act for the council's sake. "If we can coordinate against them, perhaps we can coordinate in other matters."

I'm certain this is how the talks started that wound up with Alexei being engaged to Natalia, and I feel my stomach churn at the thought of what scheme they're cooking up. Alana tenses, leaning into my side. I feel her eyes boring into me, but I don't turn to look at her. I know she'll see the uncertainty in my gaze and start to feel afraid.

Nikolai nods but doesn't commit. He's always been more cautious than my father. "The losses were heavy," is all he says, and Alexei glances over his shoulder at me. None of us can believe we're hearing this.

Has our protest against their heavy-handedness actually worked?

"The losses were heavy," my father agrees, and for a moment I almost believe he cares. But the deceptive way he narrows his eyes at me and Alana gives him away. "But we have a chance now to rebuild and create something stronger than what we had before."

Before my father can go on with what I know is sure to be some concocted idea to use my child as a bargaining chip, Mr. Petrov clears his throat again, reclaiming the floor. "The council recognizes that both families have suffered," he says. "Both have contributed to the conflict and made choices that escalated a tragedy into a war. The council's decision is this. We acknowledge the truth of what occurred—that Alana Volskaya was denied justice for five years, and the cover-up by both families contributed to the bloodshed that followed."

He looks at Alana with compassion. "The council formally recognizes that you were wronged, and that this wrong was compounded by those who should've protected you."

She sits a little straighter. This is what she's been waiting for for so long, but I can already feel the knife's edge getting ready to slice through her heart. Something has transpired between our fathers and this council in the past few weeks while we've been lying low enjoying our newborn. Something that will shred the very fabric of our family if we let it.

My shoulders are tight, my head throbbing at my temples. I’m going to have to do the unthinkable to protect this woman I love again, and it's going to hurt like hell. But it's what has to happen.

"But," Mr. Petrov continues, and I feel my stomach drop at that terrible word that always precedes compromise, "the council also recognizes that both families have legitimate grievances, and both have suffered losses. You've all acted in ways you believed protected your interests. The council recommends a formal ceasefire and a return to the terms of the original agreement posed last year in September, this time without the marriage or millions paid."

My father nods, seemingly satisfied. He's getting what he wants—this war ended on terms he can claim as victory. He doesn't have to pay a dowry, and though his territory shrinks, it's an expansion compared to the way things have been for a year. That part makes sense, but I feel something else coming, a blade ready to drop on the back of our necks which we can’t see but can feel is there.

"However," Mr. Petrov says, and now he looks at the four of us, at me and Alana and Alexei and Natalia, "the council also recognizes that the younger generation has made its position clear. They do not wish to inherit this conflict. They seek a different path."