The ownership of all characters related to and involving the novels of The Vampire Academy and Bloodlines Series remain the sole property of Richelle Mead, the Penguin Group and any affiliates.

No copyrights have been infringed on maliciously.

A/n: Thank you, as always. I love reading the reviews.

A Conflict of the Soul

Chapter Sixteen

"Did you get any sleep last night?"

Turning away from my unfocused view of the scenery speeding past the tinted windows of the SUV in a blur of green, I found Alberta watching me with a hooded expression. Seated beside me in the car as we travelled the short distance to the Academy tarmac and our waiting flight, the trip so far had been made mostly in silence; both of us too preoccupied with other thoughts to make much small talk.

"Not much. You?"

"Same." Resting back in her seat, Alberta sighed quietly before closing her eyes; the dark shadows beneath them proof of a night spent restlessly overthinking. I couldn't ever remember seeing her this tired, not even in the days following the attack on the Academy at the end of winter. She might be accepting of what she was about to face, but that didn't mean the stress of it wasn't taking its toll on her.

"You should sleep on the plane, Alberta. There'll be more than enough time during the flight."

"Is that your subtle way of telling me that I look the same way I feel?" Opening her eyes beneath the arch of her brow, I shook my head and wisely kept my mouth closed as the corners of her mouth curled upwards into a small smile. "No. Thank you. There will be time for sleep later. We need to go over what you're going to say to the Council." Sitting up again, she looked out her window as the woods around us began to thin on either side.

Clearing suddenly, we sped past the hanger and towards the small building used as a makeshift terminus. Parked beside it was the private plane belonging to the Academy, gleaming brightly in the early morning sun. A little before 7am, the ground-crew were already on the tarmac, prepping for the flight and awaiting our arrival.

Pulling smoothly to a stop, the crew began to offload our overnight luggage and stow it aboard as we collected our carry-on. We were both hoping for the best – returning tonight – but prepared for the worst. Shouldering our bags, we waited to board as our lift drove away. Feeling a light sweat begin to form beneath the layers of cotton and leather I wore, I shrugged out of the duster and hung it over the bag. It wasn't really necessary; the heat was already building, chasing away any coolness lingering overnight, but there didn't seem any sense in taking a chance. The weather over the Pocono's was notoriously unpredictable.

"How did Rose react when you told her about the Council ordering us to Court today?" Alberta asked quietly, also shedding her jacket as the ground-crew completed their pre-flight checks and began to remove the wheel-blocks.

"She kicked the dummy and told me she wished it was Han's she was kicking."

Blinking in confusion, Alberta arched a brow. Grinning at her quizzical expression, I gave her more detail of our conversation and Rose's abuse of the dummy.

Shaking her head, Alberta sighed tiredly. "You did ask her not to damage them any further, right?"

"Yes. She's promised to be on her best behaviour this week."

"And you believed her?"

"I'm choosing to believe her, Alberta."

Slanting me a look that said I clearly had far more faith in my student than she did, Alberta turned towards the flight attendant as she heard her name called. Finding her motioning her forward whilst she jogged down the last of the retractable stairs, Alberta excused herself as the powerful turbines of the jet-engines began to warm up; whirring and whining in the quiet morning. Only listening absently to the rising noise, my eyes were focused on a small herd of Caribou grazing in the distance, whilst my thoughts focused on Rose.

Somehow managing to find a moment away from the others at the end of last night's training session, it hadn't been for very long, less than a minute really, but it had been just long enough for me to check that she was still wearing the medallion. Since giving it to her on her birthday, Rose had never removed it. She still didn't fully understand or believe my concerns, but that didn't stop her from taking them seriously.

Promising me that she wouldn't take it off the minute I wasn't looking, she told me she loved me, wished me a safe flight and kissed me, lingering for as long as possible before we had been forced to go our separate ways; neither of us happy about it, but having no other choice. Her earlier carefree attitude had changed dramatically by the time we left the gym; replaced altogether by very real worry. Having no other way of reassuring her, it had only made the thought of being away from each other that much harder.

The first hour of patrol that night had passed slowly, filled with worries I could do nothing about. Ironically, it had been Emil's arrival that had stopped me from driving myself mad over questioning every decision I had made. Off duty and still after his revenge, it hadn't taken him long to figure out that I wasn't in the mood for his antics. Grumbling in complaint that it was no fun taunting someone who wouldn't co-operate, he had instead decided to talk about my request for re-assignment.

Still mystified by it, he had told me that the others were equally confused. As predicted, the news had spread quickly amongst the guardians, and by the time I had come off duty at midnight, I had been approached and questioned by almost all of them. Answering them the same way, they, like Emil, had eventually accepted my decision and wished me the best of luck.

Returning to my room, I had packed and tried to sleep, but instead had lain awake for hours. It would have almost been better if I'd stayed on duty. At least that way it would have given me something else to think of. Now tired, tense and openly resentful of the way both Alberta and I were being treated, I wasn't in the best of moods.

Turning now to find her walking towards me, I checked the time, frowning when I saw that we were running late, which was odd. The academy pilots were renowned for being punctual. "Why aren't we boarding? Is there a problem?" I asked loudly, the engines beginning to drown out all other sound.

"No, there isn't a problem. The plane is ready, but it isn't just us flying out. We're waiting for someone else to arrive before we can board." Alberta answered just as loudly, the set of her mouth tight. Whoever it was that was flying to Pennsylvania with us, she wasn't happy about it.

"Who else is flying out with us?"

"Adrian Ivashkov." Nodding towards a SUV emerging from the woods, its tyres squealed loudly enough to be heard above the noise of the engines as it took the last corner too quickly and sped towards us. Watching for my reaction, I controlled my irritation in front of her, but with great difficulty. I was already in a foul mood; having Adrian on a long flight wasn't going to improve it.

In the last three months, I had seen more of Adrian than I would have liked. Still training with Lissa, he was often around Rose, which meant I was often around him. More than willing to be polite, but to ignore him as much as I could, he hadn't felt the same way. His attitude towards me had soured even more since the night of Rose's party, in part because he could never have who he wanted, but also because her attitude towards him after that night was nothing short of frigid.

Unwilling to tolerate his insinuations and behaviour, especially as it threatened not only her, but me as well; she had all but cut ties with him a month after that night. At first, he had thought that he could get around her anger with him by pouring on the charm, but as the fog of his ego slowly cleared and he realised that he wasn't going to be able to fix things with Rose, his drinking had escalated. Absent from more and more of his sessions with Lissa, Rose had begun to feel guilty for being the cause of his downward spiral…until he had drunkenly arrived during one of them.

Unapologetically arrogant, he had taken one look at me standing beside Rose and had begun to loudly and obnoxiously make snide comments about the true nature of our relationship, not for one moment giving thought to the fact that we had been with not only Lissa, Christian and Eddie, but also with Headmistress Kirova, the psychologist assigned to the Academy and Gregor, who had all been there to observe.

Pulling him forcefully aside before he said too much whilst I had distracted the others, any guilt Rose might have felt for him was gone in an instance as she told him in no uncertain terms what she would do to him if he didn't keep his mouth shut. He had once told me that if friendship was all that Rose would ever offer him, he would take it gladly, but it wasn't until that moment that he realised that he had also lost that. There had been moments before then, that I had felt sympathy towards him, but since then, they were nowhere to be found.

He was nothing more than a spoilt, petulant child…one, that when drunk, reminded me strongly of my father.

"Apparently he heard about our flight from someone in housing…probably a maid," Alberta continued. "And decided to invite himself along."

"Of course he did."

"Why he couldn't have waited until the weekend, when everyone going to Court would fly out anyway, I don't know, but there's no point in arguing over it. He's here; he's going with us, so we might as well make peace with it. Once we're aboard, I'll try and keep you two apart as much as I can."

Looking at her sharply, my brows pulled together. "Why?"

"Because I know that you two dislike each other…intensely. Now I can only guess as to the reason why, so it's probably for the best that you are apart." Arching a brow, Alberta wasn't going to say it aloud, but she knew that it was about Rose.

"I didn't realise it was that obvious."

"It isn't normally, but things have changed recently. You need to watch him…and what he says. He might be an unpleasant reality, but he is a powerfully connected, unpleasant reality. If you make an enemy of him, and he goes to his great-aunt, it won't matter what I say to defend you or that you have an impeccable record. You will find yourself deported so fast, your head will spin." Grimacing, she watched as the flight attendant opened the door of the SUV.

Sliding out of the vehicle feet first, Adrian's balance seemed a little off. Swaying unsteadily, he put out a hand to steady himself and shaded his eyes against the brightness of the sun, despite wearing dark glasses. Grunting at the attendant, he rested back against the body of the SUV and nodded to whatever she said, not really paying attention and wincing when his head moved around too violently.

"Hungover?" Alberta asked wryly.

"Chances are."

Adjusting the strap of her bag, Alberta looked at me questioningly. "Rose isn't on the plane, Alberta," I answered, confirming the unspoken. "So there shouldn't be any real reason to goad me more than necessary. Also, he has no idea that you know about us, and that should at least give him reason to filter what he says. It's not going to be a problem." Watching him as he looked around, he spotted us to his right.

Making an effort to walk to us, he scowled at the noise of the engines before a slow, wide smirk formed across his face. I couldn't see his expression from behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, but I didn't really need to; I knew what he was thinking.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Alberta disagreed, smiling politely in greeting as he reached us. "Good morning, Lord Ivashkov."

"Guardian Petrov. Always a pleasure to see you," he flattered, sweet-talking as much a part of his makeup as his superficial charm. Glancing dismissively towards me, his lips curled in churlish disdain. "Belikov…can't say I feel the same way about you."

"Good morning, Lord Ivashkov. Thank you for eventually joining us." Greeting him civilly, I didn't miss the way his mouth tightened at my subtle dig. Ignoring the look from Alberta, one that would have stopped most in their tracks, my voice rose over the engines. "Our flight was scheduled to leave at 7am. Guardian Petrov and I have business to attend to at Court. We can't afford to be late."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Adrian airily brushed aside my concerns. "If there's any trouble, I'll talk to my great-aunt about it."

"Your great-aunt, our Queen, has more pressing matters to worry about, Lord Ivashkov, than a flight that arrived late because her great-nephew couldn't be bothered with checking the time."

"Ah-Ah…favourite great-nephew, thank you. Well, I'm her only great-nephew, really, but I'm sure I would still be the favourite if there were any others, and if I ask her, Belikov, she'll do anything for me. It's one of the advantages of being me, but you wouldn't understand that, now would you?" He mocked. "Being a guardian must be so limiting. No connections, no influences of any kind."

"It's not limiting at all, Lord Ivashkov. In fact, I find it very fulfilling to be so completely reliant on myself. Maybe you should give it a try?"

"Why would I?" He goaded.

"Maybe because you would then learn some responsibility." I slung back.

"Oh, responsibility is very boring. Much like your life…the life of a public servant."

"Public servants protect your life, Lord Ivashkov, and give theirs in return, if necessary. Maybe you should remember that and show them more respect."

Taking a closer step towards me, Adrian's smirk became a thin line of contempt as he looked up at me, arrogantly jutting his chin. "You're a dime a dozen, Belikov. If one of you does die, there's always another one to take your place. And dying for the Moroi, by the way, is your sole purpose for existing."

"It's interesting that you view the dhampir with such indifference, Lord Ivashkov. I'll be sure to share this with Rose, considering that by the end of the week, she's going to be one of the public servants that you find so disposable."

Jaw clenching at my threat, Adrian ripped off his glasses to reveal furious, blood-shot green eyes, but before he could reply, we were interrupted by the flight attendant. "Excuse me?" She asked, smiling congenially and having no idea as to what she had interrupted. "We're ready to board now. If you'll follow me, please?" Escorting Adrian, Alberta and I followed after at a slower pace. Feeling her hand on my arm, I looked down at her frowning face.

"I thought you said it wasn't going to be a problem?"

"I underestimated how much he provokes me." I replied without apology.

"Belikov…"

"Here, Alberta. Watch your step." Interrupting her reprimand, I ushered her ahead of me, not cowing beneath her ferocious glare as she shook her head and began to stomp her way up the stairs, muttering beneath her breath in Ukrainian that I might be a good influence on Rose, but that she wasn't being a good influence on me.

I couldn't say that I blamed her for reacting the way she was. This was a dangerous time for both of us.

Seating us, the flight attendant retracted the stairs and sealed the door as the pilots throttled the engines. Buckling in, the plane taxied down the runway and minutes later, we were airborne and at cruising altitude. Seated across the aisle from Alberta, Adrian was seated behind us and already signalling for a drink from the flight attendant as the light of seat-belt sign flickered. Resting back against the comfort of the leather seat, I stretched out my legs and hoped that it meant he would spend the rest of the flight in a drunken stupor.

Looking at her watch with a frown, Alberta unbuckled and excused herself, walking up the aisle towards the flight-attendant. After having a quiet word, she was escorted towards the cock-pit. We were late, thanks to Adrian's inconsiderate behaviour. She would want the pilots to relay that to Court; though she would be more diplomatic about it than I felt he deserved.

Hearing the clink of ice-cubes in a glass from behind me, I caught him in my peripheral vision as he fell sideways into Alberta's set. Resting back against the inner panelling, he swung his legs over the armrest to dangle in the aisle; watching me over the rim of his glass. Knowing that I should ignore him, that engaging further was only going to encourage him; I couldn't seem to help myself as I turned to face him. For a long moment, we sat in silence, sizing each other up before Adrian took a sip and cradled the glass in his lap.

"You'd tell her, wouldn't you?"

Keeping my expression blank, I didn't answer.

Snorting in annoyance at my silence, he leaned forward to sneer. "Rose. You'd tell her about what I said knowing that I didn't mean her."

"Who did you mean then?"

"You."

"Do you think that will make it any better for her to hear, if I did?" I taunted, not taking his comment personally. It was exactly what I would have expected from him and he never disappointed. "She's a dhampir; hearing that you consider any of us disposable is going to rub her the wrong way, Lord Ivashkov, and we both know that you're already not her favourite person."

"You're so fucking smug," he muttered sullenly into his glass at my reminder, taking a large gulp that almost drained it. "You think you've got it all figured out, don't you, Belikov?"

"Not at all…but I do know Rose."

"What are you flying out for, Lord Ivashkov?" Alberta asked conversationally, situating herself between us as she rested against a seat. I couldn't see her face, but I knew from her body language that she wasn't happy with what she had just overheard.

Resting back again as Alberta took the seat in front of him, Adrian smiled affably as he swirled the pale amber of brandy in his glass; his fury with me masked in an instance. I grudgingly admitted to myself that he was very good at it. We were all trained to hide our emotions without a moment's hesitation, but he wouldn't have been taught the same thing. For a moment, it made me wonder where he had learnt it from…and why.

"A family reunion of sorts. My parent's are at Court to visit my great-aunt and I wanted to see them…or my mother, at any rate. Also, according to the rumour mill, my uncle is there too. Probably asking for money or a favour of some sort, but I haven't seen him since I was a child, so it'll be good to catch up."

"I'm familiar with your father, Nathan, but not your uncle. Where does he spend most of his time?"

"Used to be in Europe but I don't think he's been there for a long time. Now he just wanders around from continent to continent, living off the charity of others. What are you two going to Court for, by the way? I'm happy to use whatever it is as a way to hitch a ride, but I would have thought with trials this close, you wouldn't have budged from Montana."

"Under any normal circumstance you would be right," Alberta confirmed. "But this isn't normal. We both have meetings with Hans Croft this afternoon, which is why we had to arrive on time."

Effecting a look of contrition that we both knew he didn't feel, Adrian held a hand to his chest. "My sincerest apologies for any inconvenience I might have caused you, Guardian Petrov. I would be happy to speak to Guardian Croft on your behalf and take the blame…not Belikov's, of course, but definitely yours."

"I certainly don't need any favours from you, Lord Ivashkov." I countered, levelling a hard stare at him.

Glancing quickly between us, Alberta looked mildly uncomfortable that our dislike for each other was so easily verbalized. "Uhm…thank you for the offer, Lord Ozera, but that won't be necessary."

"Sure. So it's Croft that you're going to see? He isn't exactly known for being the chatty kind, so there must be a very real reason he's called you to Court now. For you, Guardian Petrov, I'm guessing that it has something to do with the attack. Yes?" At Alberta's hesitant nod, Adrian turned his scathing gaze towards me. "And you, Belikov? What have you done to earn an appointment with Hans Croft?"

Refusing to answer him, it was Alberta who gave him the information I wouldn't. "Guardian Belikov hasn't done anything, Lord Ivashkov. He's requested a transfer and has his interview with the Council today regarding it."

Swallowing a curse at Alberta's confession, the last person I wanted knowing about this right now was Adrian. Not because he, like the rest, wouldn't eventually find out, but because I didn't want him telling Lissa before I had the chance to talk to her myself. She would be completely blindsided by this and I didn't want that.

"A transfer?" Sitting up too quickly, Adrian lurched a little to the side before he corrected himself; his sense of balance dulled by the alcohol. "Where are you transferring to? When?!"

Tempted to tell him to mind his own damn business, it was only the expression on Alberta's face that kept me from voicing it. "Until my request has been confirmed, I would rather not talk about it."

"Does Rose know?"

"This has nothing to do with Miss Hathaway," Alberta interrupted. "And even if it did, it wouldn't affect her in the slightest. Guardian Belikov has requested a transfer after graduation."

Smiling slyly, there was no amusement in it as Adrian scoffed. "You've asked to be transferred to Court, haven't you? You know that Rose is going to be assigned to Lissa after graduation, and that she'll spend most of her time there when she isn't at Lehigh. It's so that you can be close to Rose."

"Rose hasn't been officially assigned to the Princess yet, Lord Ivashkov." Alberta pointed out before I could answer, trying to sidetrack him, but also at the same time not denying. It was a mistake, one she realised too late. Picking up on it, Adrian's eyes narrowed accusingly. He wasn't drunk enough yet to overlook that instead of being shocked at his insinuation, Alberta was deflecting…it took him only a few seconds to work out way.

"We all know she will be, Guardian Petrov," he replied with disdain, showing a complete lack of respect towards her now that she was also seen as the enemy. "She's the obvious choice as near guard for Lissa, which is why Belikov is asking to be reassigned, so that they won't both have Lissa, but you knew that already, didn't you?"

Turning to glare at me before Alberta could respond, Adrian's features contorted with bitter jealousy. "So that's why you're so damn sure of yourself all the time, Belikov…you've got the Captain of the fucking Guardians protecting you. She knows about you and Rose!"

"Lord Ivashkov…"

"It's alright, Alberta," I intervened softly, not wanting her to waste her breathe on denials he wouldn't believe. It was time for Adrian to understand where he stood…he thought he had me over a barrel, but he was over the very same one. "It doesn't matter that he knows."

"The hell it doesn't, Belikov," Adrian snapped. "Maybe I should talk to the Council about your transfer. I'm sure they'd have no problem sending you to Outer Mongolia for an extended stay if I asked nicely. And you, Guardian Petrov…I'm sure the Council will be interested to hear that you knew about one of your guardians being involved in a sexual relationship with a student and did nothing about it."

Speaking directly to a visibly agitated Alberta, my words were soft, but only a fool would have missed the menace in them. Threatening me was one thing; threatening her was another. "He won't say anything to anyone, Alberta, because he knows that if he does, Rose will never forgive him, and any chance he still thinks he has with her will be gone."

"With you out of the picture, Belikov, I do have a chance." He challenged nastily; ruddy colour highlighting his pale features. "She might not forgive me straight away, but she will eventually."

"No, you don't stand a chance. I told you before, I know her. She'll never love you."

Flinching, Adrian couldn't mask his pain at the confidence of my statement quickly enough to stop me from seeing it, and for a moment, I almost regretted my words…almost. Standing, I beckoned Alberta towards me, ushering her towards the back of the plane as she crossed between us. "If you'll excuse us, Lord Ivashkov, Guardian Petrov and I have things to discuss in private."

Following after her, we moved to the last seats on the plane. Sitting, Alberta looked up at me in a daze, as if she didn't recognize who she saw. "I don't know how to react to what's just happened. This isn't you."

"No, it isn't, but dealing with Adrian brings out something ugly in me." Resting back, I watched as the flight attendant almost tentatively approached Adrian. Nodding his head distractedly, she quickly refilled his glass. Looking expectantly at the two of us, we shook our heads.

"Yes, I can see that," Alberta muttered as she turned away. "But didn't I say, 'don't make an enemy of him'?"

"I made an enemy of him the day he met Rose in Idaho, Alberta."

"You seem very certain that he won't say anything. I'm not so sure that you should be."

"I'm certain, Alberta, because he still imagines that someday Rose might look at him differently, but that will never happen, especially if he does anything to jeopardise me…or you, for that matter. She's very fond of you."

Nodding absently, and clearly still uneasy about everything that had just been said and done, Alberta fidgeted with the stitching of the armrest, drumming her fingers restlessly against the leather. Covering them with my own, I gently squeezed in comfort, not wanting her to be concerned by this when she still had her own hearing to get through.

"Don't let anything Adrian Ivashkov says take up any of your time, Alberta. Trust me, it isn't worth it. Right now, we have more important things to discuss."

Spending what remained of the flight in quiet discussion, Alberta and I went over every question that might be asked of me, fine turning every answer, every possible outcome, and by the time we had landed, I felt more confident with facing the Council. Landing twenty minutes before midday – almost late, no thanks to Adrian, who all but stumbled out of the plane and into a waiting car that whisked him away before we could finish disembarking – we were greeted by Court guardians whilst our luggage was offloaded.

Making the short journey to guest housing in the comfort of air-conditioning, the humidity in Pennsylvania was far higher than I had anticipated. Walking through reception whilst our bags were collected by porters who then disappeared with them, we were told where we would be staying overnight, if necessary, and given the key-cards to our rooms before being taken to the administration building.

Shown into a long corridor running adjacent to the offices, it was lined with chairs. Told to wait here until we were called, Alberta and I sat, listening to the muted voices from behind a door to our right. There for about ten minutes, the door was finally opened by a Court clerk, who smiled politely before calling for Alberta to enter. Rising, she sent me a meaningful look, one that said be prepared for anything, and not to forget what she had told me. Nodding in understanding, I wished her luck as the door closed behind her.

I should have been concentrating on my own fate during the hour that passed, but it was Alberta's that most concerned me. Sitting up at the sound of the handle being turned, the door was opened and Alberta slipped through, closing it behind her and sighing very quietly. Standing, I went to her side, but she shook her head at my anxious expression.

"I've been cleared…and so has everyone else."

Reaching out, she clutched at my arm to steady herself; I could feel the faint tremor in her grip as I guided her towards the chairs. Sitting her down very carefully, I was a little surprised that she was letting me see her this vulnerable, but it was only further proof of the stress she had been under. "That's wonderful, Alberta," I congratulated her. "Truly."

"Thank you, Dimitri."

"You'll remain as Captain?"

"Yes. They ruled that although my decision to rescue those taken was unsanctioned and unorthodox, ultimately it saved more lives than were lost, and that wasn't something worth punishing. You all were following my orders, so none of you will be punished in any way. They didn't ever specifically pinpoint who was responsible for the attack, but it seems as though they are more willing to take blame…well, partial blame at any rate. They've agreed to the more progressive style of field assignments and that the novices must be taught our internal protocols from the beginning. It's not much, but it's a start."

It was, I agreed, but I didn't know if it would be enough. Until the Council were willing to admit that structurally, our entire system needed to change, nothing really would change.

"What's the mood like in there?"

"I can't describe it in a word. They're polite one moment, accusing the next. You need to watch yourself in there…every word, every gesture. They'll pick it apart and turn it around on you, so remember what we discussed earlier. I've used whatever influence I have in there to talk them into allowing your transfer to be passed and that you want to assigned to the training facility."

"Thank you, Alberta."

"It isn't much, Dimitri, but maybe it will start you off on the right foot. There was no mention, by the way, of anything to do with what had happened with Adrian on the plane, but that doesn't mean that it won't come up once you're in there."

Nodding, I rose as the clerk opened the door and again smiled politely before calling me in. Opening the door wide, the gravity of the situation suddenly hit me – despite all my reassurances to Alberta – as my future was suddenly laid bare before me. The outcome of this meeting was as crucial to me as the final outcome of trials was to Rose. If I gave the Council the smallest of reason's to doubt me, to punish me, the future I wanted would no longer be within my grasp.

Hearing Alberta mumble something at my side, I vaguely realised she was wishing me good luck as I walked through the doors. Finding myself facing a long table at the end of a large room, the door closed behind me as the clerk moved to a small table on the left, equipped with a laptop and a recording device. She was obviously taking the minutes. Gesturing me forward, I walked towards the solitary chair in the room facing the Council members…all five of them.

Hans Croft was the most recognizable, but the four that sat on either side of him were just as familiar, because they were the same four that had been sent to the Academy more than three months ago following the attack and the rescue: Delia Marston, Henry Jerkewitz, Annabeth Harper and Frederic González. They had been sent supposedly to investigate, but interrogate was a better word to use.

Looking up from his notes, Hans saw me approaching and nodded. "Ah, Belikov," He greeted, indicating the chair in the room with a gesture that was almost dismissively brief. "Have a seat."

"Thank you, Guardian Croft." Sitting, I forced my posture to relax.

"I take it everything is ready for Thursday?" He asked pleasantly…too pleasantly. I wasn't fooled.

"The final preparations should be complete by this afternoon. We're ready." I didn't mention that had Alberta and I been allowed to remain at the Academy instead of being summoned here, the final preparations might have been finished already.

"Excellent, excellent. Let's get down to business. You remember Guardians Marston, Jerkewitz, Harper and González from the inquest, yes?" Nodding politely in greeting to all of them, they watched me no differently than at the hearing before as they nodded back, but did nothing more. They were only there as a show of numbers, to intimidate, I realised.

This was the Hans Croft show.

"You are here today, Guardian Belikov, to discuss your request to be reassigned after graduation." Shuffling his paperwork, he folded his hands over the folder in front of him and skewered me with eyes as black as coal. "I must admit, when Guardian Petrov first informed me of your request to be reassigned, I was equal parts surprised and disappointed. I would have thought that there would be no higher honour than guarding the last Dragomir, yet you seem to feel otherwise."

"It has been a privilege to protect Princess Vasilisa, Guardian Croft," I began, remembering Alberta's advice. "I will always be grateful to the Council for appointing me as her guardian, and giving me that opportunity. It allowed me to be based at St Vladimir's and that meant that I could train novices when not guarding her. To that end, once she has graduated and left the Academy for Court and for whatever else her future holds, I feel that I can be of better use in continuing to train others. There are many other highly qualified guardians who should be given the opportunity to protect the Princess."

Digesting my reply for a second, Hans nodded more to himself than to me. "Guardian Petrov mentioned that you would like to be transferred to the Court's training facility if your request is approved. Is that right?"

"Yes."

"The Court's training facility is an elite establishment, Guardian Belikov. It trains not only Court guardians, but the Queen's Guard. Do you think you are qualified to train there?"

"I couldn't say, Guardian Croft. I would have to be assessed by the head of the training facility first. If I'm found to be under qualified, then I would have to undergo more training until I was ready."

Again, there was a slow and steady nod, but nothing more. Looking quickly from guardian to guardian, none of them gave anything away. They all sat there, staring patiently back at me. Starting to feel uneasy, this wasn't what I had expected. I had anticipated a barrage of accusations, all of them questioning everything from my loyalty to my lack of gratitude. Writing a few notes, Hans closed his fold and again laced his fingers together atop it before smiling and addressing me.

"Thank you for your time, Guardian Belikov, and for answering my questions. The other Council members and I will take everything into consideration regarding your transfer request and will reconvene at 9pm this evening to notify you of the outcome. Obviously that means that you and Guardian Petrov will be staying overnight, so until then, please make use of the facilities and enjoy your stay at Court."

Standing, he looked at clerk who immediately moved to stand at the door, waiting for me. Rising uncertainly, I again looked between the five, trying to read anything off them, but there was nothing. "You don't have any further questions for me, Guardian Croft?" I asked in bewilderment.

"No. I've heard everything that I needed to hear, Guardian Belikov. Unless you have anything more to add regarding your decision to ask for a transfer?"

Hearing the subtle implication, I slowly shook my head. "Good then. We'll see you later." Collecting his notes, he preceded the others out through a door just behind the table. Hearing the quiet click of the catch as it was shut, I knew the clerk was waiting for me, but my movements were sluggish with confusion and it took me a while to walk towards her.

What the hell had just happened?

Finding Alberta seated in the hallway, she looked up in surprise as the door opened. Looking quickly down at her watch, her head snapped back up to stare at me as the door was closed at my back. "You were only in there for ten minutes." She pointed out, walking towards me.

"Was it only ten? It felt like five."

"What happened?"

"I…honestly don't know. I gave them my reason for asking for the transfer, told them that I wished to be reassigned to the training facility at Court. They asked if I felt I was qualified enough for the position and I answered that if I wasn't, I was more than willing to undertake further training…and that was it. Hans said that he and the others needed more time to discuss the outcome and that I was expected back here at 9pm for the answer."

Blinking, Alberta said nothing, though she knew that I was waiting for an answer. "I'm just as confused as you are, Dimitri. I was expecting you to be in there for much longer. That's really all they asked you?"

"Yes. Why make me come all this way for a ten minute conversation? And why make me wait for the answer for hours? Mind games?"

"More than likely. It's what he's known for."

"What do you make of this?"

"I don't know…really, I don't."

"I'm sorry. This now means that we have to stay overnight."

"I think we both knew we would be anyway, Dimitri." Collecting her jacket, she hung it over her arm and gave me an assessing look. She could see how worried I was, so there was no point in trying to hide it. She also knew that she could offer no words of comfort, even though with her own fate known, she could now afford to be optimistic.

"I don't know about you, but I need something to eat…and possibly drink." Arching a brow as she waited for my response, I nodded distractedly and followed her out into the heat of early afternoon.

Only a little after 1pm, the grounds were relatively empty. The Court adhered strictly to the a nocturnal schedule that would start at 6pm, though on occasion, they would revert to a day schedule when needed, as did the Academies. Taking a pathway that lead through the famous gardens, I tried to admire the blooming roses and topiary features as a way of distracting myself, but I wasn't doing a very good job. Not even Alberta chattering on about the history of the Royal Court could focus my thoughts away from the cold sense of dread settling heavily in my stomach.

What had I done?

Had I jeopardized everything by thinking that I was entitled to ask for a transfer? Had I ruined my future before it had begun? And if I had, how did I tell Rose? I couldn't, not with trials this close. It would wreak her concentration and if I was in any way responsible for her failing them, I would never forgive myself. I would have to wait to tell her until afterwards, which meant keeping it from her for the rest of the week. How did I do that? How did I keep something like that a secret from her?

Feeling myself slowly begin to sink into wallowing, self-pity, I got angry for even allowing it. Plucking at the leaf of a Yew as we walked beneath it, I tried to find something positive to latch onto. If I got an answer I didn't like tonight, that didn't mean it was the end of everything. I could still appeal the decision, based on their reasoning for denial, and appear before a tribunal of guardians who would all then vote on my request. Hans of course would still be there, but the decision wouldn't solely be his.

I would need testimonies of the senior guardians at St Vladimir's as well, but I didn't doubt that there would be a single one of them who would refuse. This was better. This was a plan. A plan I could work with…a plan meant options. Tossing aside the leaf, I vaguely heard Alberta greeting someone, but it wasn't until I heard the booming voice of Konrad Medvedev that I looked up.

"Belikov!"

Grinning broadly, Kon held out a hand towards Alberta. Shaking it, she grinned wryly at him before he moved around her and clasped me warmly in a half-hug, patting me roughly on the back. "Three months and all I get is the occasional phone call, then I have to hear through the grapevine that you're at Court? What the hell, man?"

Returning the hug, I could hear the annoyance beneath the humour. I hadn't told him in advance that I would be here not because I hadn't wanted to see him, but because I had hoped that the visit would be brief enough for us to never cross paths. "It's good to see you too, Kon."

"So is it true?" Looking between us as we drew apart, Kon eyed me with speculative green eyes. "Are you here because you've requested a transfer?"

"It's true."

"So…how did it go?"

"Well…" Looking at Alberta, she nodded. "You two catch up. I'll talk to you later." Following the path away from us and back towards housing, Kon watched her until she was out of sight before he turned to me with a frown.

"What's that about?" He asked in Russian.

"My meeting with the Council didn't go as I expected." I replied in kind, walking again as he fell into place next to me.

"What do you mean? And why did you ask for a transfer in the first place?"

Going over everything with him, from my initial request, to the reasoning behind it, to what was said during my hearing and where I wanted to be reassigned to; Kon listened and asked only one question. "You're worried, aren't you?"

"I am. It makes no sense not to just tell me. Alberta says that Hans is known for psychological warfare, but this feels like something else. I don't know. Maybe it's just paranoia." I didn't believe for a second it was, but maybe Konrad could add a fresh perspective.

"I don't want to make this worse for you, Dimitri, but I don't think it's paranoia." Shrugging apologetically at my expression, he sighed. "When I wanted to be moved to the training facility two months ago, I made the request on a Tuesday and by the next day, I had my answer. And it was Hans who made that decision. Our meeting was brief, and every question he asked me, made sense. From what you've told me, it's like he's already made his decision and is just screwing with you."

Sinking my hands into the pockets of my slacks, I swore beneath my breath, but refused to allow myself to start wallowing again. I would just have be patient and wait once more to find out my fate. "What's the training facility like?" I asked, needed another distraction.

"Fantastic. All the same work, with half the restrictions. I have more free time than I did before, so I can…sorry, that's probably not what you want to hear, is it? You wanted the training facility." Looking sheepish, Kon kicked at a pebble on the pathway.

"No, it's fine. I'm glad that you're happy, Kon. Really."

"You know what you need?" He announced suddenly, punching my arm. "A drink. I'm off duty, and they have premium vodka on tap here. No, no arguments," he said when he saw that I was about to decline. "One drink isn't going to do any harm, Dimitri. Besides, I know you. If I leave you alone for the rest of the day, you're going to brood, and as gorgeous as you are when you brood, it's counter-productive." Eyeing me and grinning widely, he seemed to be waiting for me to deny it, but I couldn't.

"Will the bar even be open now?"

"You're kidding, right? There are three bars, and they're open 24/7; the Moroi are thirsty for more than just blood. We'll go to the visitor's lounge. It should be quiet now and the bar there stocks Medovukha. If I can't get you to drink vodka, maybe I can get you to drink honey mead."

"I'll stick to the vodka. My sweet tooth is non-existent."

"Like your sense of humour." Kon muttered, changing direction as the path split, doubling back on ourselves as we headed for guest housing. For the next few hours, Konrad somehow managed to keep me distracted as we talked about what had happened – both here, and in Montana during the last three months – and drank. Well, Konrad drank; I had managed to keep the same drink from the moment we had been seated in the lounge.

"Seriously," he grumbled about it now as the empty trays of light snacks were cleared away by the waiter. "You've been nursing the same damn drink for hours."

"You said at least one drink, so I'm humouring you."

"Is that what you call it?" he muttered darkly, taking the last bite of a sandwich before licking his fingers and looking around the lounge as it began to fill with Moroi. The main dining-room adjoined the lounge, and according to Konrad, most nights the Royals ate with everyone else. It was only the Queen and her closest consorts who ate in a private dining-room in Royal housing.

"There's Nathan Ivashkov," Kon pointed out, jerking his chin in the direction of a Moroi with dark brown hair standing across the room. He had his back turned towards us so I couldn't see his features, but he was tall, even for a Moroi, and had surprisingly broad shoulders.

"Adrian's father."

"Yeah. His slacker brother is here too. Everyone is convinced he's after money again. It's the only reason's he's ever here."

"Adrian told us."

"He flew in with you and Alberta?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Is he still a ray of sunshine?"

"Unfortunately, no."

Grinning, Kon went back to drinking whilst I continued to watch Nathan. He seemed to be involved in an argument with another Moroi; both of them half hidden by the shadows of an alcove, but from what I could see, the other man wasn't as tall. Clearly agitated by whatever was being said, Nathan threw his hands up in disgust and gave me a better look at the man. Flamboyantly dressed in bright clothing, his dark hair complimented a more swarthy skin tone. Nothing about him was familiar, yet there was something about him that tugged at my consciousness.

"Who is Nathan talking to?"

Looking to his left, Konrad peered around the bar before frowning and muttering. "Zmey."

"That's Ibrahim Mazur?!" Now the darker colouring made more sense. Born in Turkey, the colouring was normal for that region of Europe. Wanting a better look, I bent to put my glass on the table and was able to see around Nathan for a moment. Flashy clothes, excessive jewellery and perfectly manicured appearance aside, the man known to all of us as a criminal kingpin could not have looked more different to what I had always imagined.

"What is he doing here?" I asked Konrad

"He's often in and out of Court. He and the Queen are close. How close, no one actually knows. We all assumed she prefers dhampir, but who knows. Maybe he's just here for business. You remember what they used to say about him at St Basil's?" At my nod, Kon slide a side glance in his direction. "They say the same things here: trafficking of stolen antiques and arms. Money laundering, drugs, sale of girls, sale of boys…sale of blood. If it's illegal and there's a market for it, he does it. They say if you want someone to disappear, and you're willing to pay his price, you're basically signing a death warrant."

"And he's still allowed through the gates?"

"Like I said, the Queen…"

"What business would he have with Nathan Ivashkov?"

"No idea, but there are always rumours circulating around the Queen's favourite nephew."

"What kind of rumours?"

"One's that are quashed almost immediately." Nodding at him, Nathan seemed to be verbally threatening Ibrahim, but the older man merely smiled and whispered something back. Stiffening, Nathan said nothing more and stalked away; hidden from view by the walls separating the dining room from the lounge. Wondering what had been said to silence him so quickly, Ibrahim suddenly looked across the room to where we sat and took a step forward and into the brighter overhead light.

Stiffening as the light caught at something in his dark eyes; eyes that seemed more than just a little familiar to me, Ibrahim continued to watch us for a long moment before he was approached by a waiter and escorted through to the dining hall, but not before taking one last look at me.

"I thought you didn't know him?" Konrad asked with a quiet shiver.

"Never met him."

"You sure? He's looking at you like you have."

"My family dealt with him a few months ago. Maybe someone here told him who I am; I don't know, but I certainly don't want any dealings with him. It's bad enough that my mother owes him a favour. I don't want him thinking that he's going to collect it through me, or anyone else in my family.

"What kind of favour?"

"She was looking for me after the attack and asked him to track me down."

"Damn…a favour isn't something you want to owe him."

"I know." Reaching for my drink, I drained it in one gulp and tried to figure out what it was about him that was so familiar.

Hearing Konrad swear in Russian, I frowned at him as he looked towards the door over my shoulder. "I hate to make this day worse for you…again," he mumbled into his glass. "But Adrian and his uncle have just arrived. With guardian Petrov and a few other Court guardians in tow. I would have thought they would be with the Queen, but they both know she doesn't approve of heavy drinking, so they doing it here on the sly and…oh, good, they're all walking our way."

Closing my eyes for a second and trying to find the strength to deal with him again, Kon and I both rose and turned towards them at the same time, but as Kon began to greet them, the words died in my throat when I saw the man Adrian introduced as his uncle…a man I knew as Rand.

Suddenly, I wasn't a man of twenty-five anymore, but a frightened boy of thirteen who had watched, for the last time, as his drunken father hit his mother whilst she tried to protect her terrified daughters. Suddenly, I was the same boy who had beaten him to a bloody pulp in front his mother and sisters. Suddenly, I was the same boy who had threatened to kill him if he ever came near his family again, and for twelve long years, he had taken that threat seriously.

But this wasn't Siberia, I wasn't that boy…and his name wasn't Rand, but Randall Ivashkov.

He hadn't changed much since I had last seen him. Same thick brown hair, only now heavily steaked with grey. Same sly green eyes, only now blood-shot and drooping. His features, once sharp and handsome, were now misshapen from drinking and brawling. Years of hard living had finally begun to catch up with him.

"Dimka!"

Feeling my stomach revolt as he called me by a nickname he had no right to use and opened his arms wide, the sheen of sweat forming over my skin felt like it was burning me. I didn't want him touching me. I didn't want him anywhere near me. Just knowing we were in the same room was enough to make me sick. Dimly aware that both Konrad and Alberta were looking at me strangely, I couldn't seem to make myself move.

"Dimka?" Adrian questioned with a scoff, glancing scornfully at me before he turned to his uncle. "Why did you call him that, Uncle Rand?"

"It's a shortening of his name. A Russian tradition. His mother and I decided to name him Dimitri when he was born because it literally meant guardian or protector, but she insisted on call him Dimka from the time he was old enough to walk. Mothers and their sons…I'll never understand it."

Frowning, Adrian shook his head a little, as if to clear the haze of alcohol. "Wait…I don't understand. You and his mother…are you saying, he's… your son?!"

"Yes." Randall confirmed, ruffling his nephew's hair. "Wait, you've spent all this time at St Vladimir's, and never realized you were related?"

"Related?" Adrian whispered in disbelief as stunned silence seemed to descend upon the lounge.

"Yes…you and Dimitri are cousins."