Page 107 of The King's Pawn
“I’m sorry. At least I came back,” I say simply.
She scoffs, folding her arms tightly across her chest. “Barely.”
“I had to. There wasn’t another way.”
Her eyes search my face, scanning for wounds I can’t see, for cracks she knows all too well. “You could have died, Sashenka.”
“I know.”
“And you went anyway.”
“Yes.”
Her shoulders sag just a fraction, the fight draining out of her all at once. She drags a hand down her face and exhales sharply. “You’re impossible. You are giving me grey hairs.”
“I know,” I mutter.
She snorts despite herself, then steps forward again, this time slower, and presses her forehead briefly to my chest. Not an embrace, exactly, just enough contact to steady herself. “Don’t ever do that again. You don’t get to make unilateral martyr decisions and leave me to pick up what’s left of you. Do you hear me?”
“I won’t,” I promise.
She pulls back enough to glare up at me. “You swear?”
“I swear.”
She studies me for a long moment, then nods once. “Apology accepted. And how is our firecracker doing?”
Despite everything knotting my chest, my lip quirks faintly. “She is alive. Upstairs sleeping.”
“Good.” She steps closer again, lifting her hand to brush her knuckles along my cheek, the gesture achingly familiar. It’s the same way our mother used to check us for bruises when we were children, before the world took away her softness before finally taking her.
Her touch grounds me more than I want to admit.
“What made Malyshko let her go?” she asks quietly.
I hesitate, not because I don’t want to answer her, but because I don’t know how to articulate the truth without admitting how unsettled it makes me. “I’m not entirely sure.”
Her brow arches slightly.
“He was… hell-bent on forcing me to choose. Testing me. Forcing me to dwell after that phone call when he invited me to dinner. And then once we were there…” I shake my head once. “He changed his mind. Just like that.”
“That’s not like him,” Lena says immediately.
“No,” I agree. “It isn’t.”
Her hand drops from my face, and she folds her arms, pacing a slow half-circle in front of me. “Malyshko doesn’t reverse course unless he gains something more valuable than what he planned to take.”
“That’s exactly what worries me,” I mutter.
She stops, turning back to face me. “Has Alina said anything about what happened while she was there? Anything at all?”
“I haven’t gotten the chance to ask. She passed out almost as soon as we left. Shock, adrenaline, exhaustion. Take your pick,” I admit.
Lena hums under her breath, the sound thoughtful. “That girl has more spine than most men I’ve met. Perhaps he recognized that in her. Then again, Nikolai doesn’t give gifts without strings attached.”
“I know.”
“We’ll have to be cautious going forward. Whatever he’s planning, I don’t want to be blindsided by it.”
