Chapter Text
Chapter 16 - Between Laughs
Rose pov
Lissa & Christian’s apartment always felt like stepping into a magazine spread — soft light on pale wood floors, shelves lined with books and framed photos, the faint scent of fresh flowers no matter the season. Tonight it smelled like rosemary and garlic, because of course Christian was in the kitchen, sleeves rolled to his elbows.
He’d gone full Iron Chef on us, which I guess was his therapy for someone trying to stab him in the palace gardens earlier this week. Or was it because of the raid yesterday? Whatever his reason, I wasn’t complaining.
I stole a breadstick off the counter as he plated something fancy with too many herbs.
“Wow. Your domestic goddess era is thriving. Should I start calling you Martha Stewart?”
Christian didn’t look up. “Wow. Your portion control era is nonexistent.”
“Rude,” I said, biting into the bread anyway.
Across the table, Adrian raised his glass in salute.
“To our resident kitchen warlock. Should I alert the press? Or is this your cry for help?”
Christian slid the plate down with a little more force than necessary.
“Just because you think garnish is vodka—”
“Excuse you,” Adrian said smoothly. “Sometimes I garnish with orange slices. When I’m feeling classy.”
Sydney didn’t even glance up from steeping her tea. “That’s not garnish. That’s scurvy prevention.”
“Semantics,” Adrian said, grinning.
“Play nice,” Lissa murmured, settling into her chair with the patience of a saint, ever the peacemaker.
“I am nice,” Adrian said. “I’m delightful.”
I grabbed another roll, only to have Eddie smack my hand like I was five.
“Leave some for the rest of us, Hathaway.”
“You’ve already inhaled three,” I shot back, stealing it anyway.
“Speed is a skill,” he said smugly.
Christian muttered something about not destroying his furniture as I tore the roll in half like a threat.
Then Adrian, all casual, tossed out, “Temper, Little Dhampir. Darkness winning custody again?”
I froze mid-chew. The shadow curled low in my chest, sharp and fast. For a second, I wanted to slam the fork through his perfect smirk.
Instead, I smiled with all my teeth. “You’re hilarious.”
“Thank you,” he said with mock solemnity. “I try.”
Lissa’s eyes flicked toward me, concern soft as a whisper, but she didn’t say anything.
Dinner was loud and fast, like we were all pretending things weren’t unraveling around us. For five minutes, it almost worked.
Then Christian leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.
“So,” he said casually — which was never good — “anyone want to explain why someone tried to stab me in the gardens two nights ago?”
Silence. Pin‑drop, tension‑thick silence. Eddie’s jaw flexed. My fork stilled.
“Don’t all answer at once,” Christian added, his tone dripping sarcasm.
“They weren't just angry,” he went on when no one spoke. “There was emptiness in their eyes. Like they were absent, unknowing of their actions.”
Adrian’s smirk slid right off his face. “That’s not beginner Spirit. That’s advanced. Which is… really freaking bad news, considering—”
“Considering we’re the only Spirit users at Court,” Lissa said softly.
That landed like a weight on the table.
Adrian set his glass down. “Fantastic. Secret psychic in Court. Love that for us.”
“Not funny,” I muttered.
“Not joking,” he said, sharp now. “If they’re this good, they’ve had years. That means planning. Power. A reason.”
Sydney’s tone was all steel. “Then it’s deliberate. I’ll pull what I can — Alchemist registries, movement logs, flagged medical files. Someone doesn’t stay invisible this long without help.”
“Unless they paid for it,” Adrian said. “Bribed Alchemists. Love that bedtime story.”
“Not now, Adrian,” Sydney said flatly.
He grinned. “Love it when you talk stern to me.”
Christian leaned back, but I caught the twitch in his jaw. The joking was armor; the worry underneath was real.
“Focus,” I cut in before Sydney snapped a spoon in half.
“If someone’s compelling that strongly, they’re dangerous.”
Christian leaned back, crossing his arms.
“Great. The Strigoi ambush, a mystery Spirit ninja with a compulsion kink. How’s your week going, Rose?”
“Busy,” I said, stabbing a piece of garlic bread. “Yours?”
He shot me a flat look. “You’re insufferable.”
“I try.”
“Children,” Adrian murmured.
“Don’t make me set you on fire,” Christian said sweetly.
“Don’t make me like you more when you say things like that,” Adrian replied.
“God, you two,” I muttered.
I reached for another roll just to annoy him, because if I was going to spiral later, I was at least going to carb-load first.
“Anyway,” Lissa cut in, diplomat mode activated, “we need a lead. Someone who understands Spirit better than any of us.”
“Sonya,” I said instantly. “When is she coming back from the Academy?”
“In two weeks,” Lissa said. “She promised to brief me the second she’s back.”
“Two weeks is too long,” Christian muttered.
“Then we use Tanner,” Eddie said. “He’s here at Court working with the guardians. He knows the research on Spirit anomalies.”
Sydney nodded. “I can reach out quietly.”
“Good,” Lissa said — but her gaze stayed on me a beat too long, like she was weighing whether to push. I broke eye contact, shoving another piece of bread in my mouth before she could Spirit‑scan me at the table.
Christian turned to me. “And the raid. Did it feel… off to you?”
I glanced at Eddie. He glanced back. It was only a heartbeat, but the room seemed to narrow around it.
Adrian’s gaze flicked between us, sharp now. “What aren’t you telling the class?”
“Drop it,” I said. Sharper than I meant to. Too sharp.
The air changed.
“Something happened that you left with Belikov after a week of ghosting him?”
Christian’s smirk was pure provocation, his eyes were knowing. And for one stupid second, my brain gave me the image of Dimitri last night — the tension in his jaw, the shadow in his eyes when I touched his arm. Great. Super helpful.
Nobody was fooled though.
“I didn’t know we were doing this,” I said, reaching for a bread roll.
“Oh, we’re definitely doing this,” Adrian said, leaning forward like he’d been waiting for the cue.
“Especially after our resident Alchemist here dropped the Russia bomb the other night.”
My eyes narrowed at Sydney. “You didn’t.”
Her lips curved the tiniest fraction. “It came up.”
Eddie looked between us, curious. “Russia?”
“She means,” Adrian said, milking it, “that Little Dhampir here had a… let’s call it an international extracurricular while she was out hunting André.”
He raised his glass in mock salute. “Met someone.”
“It wasn’t—” I started.
Sydney cut in smoothly, “She didn’t know his name at the time. Just a boy in a duster with a very big…guardian aura.”
Eddie choked on his drink.
“Please don’t.”
“And,” Sydney added, “when I had to leave Omsk for a night, I came back to find her… all giddy. Took me all of five minutes to put it together later, once Belikov showed up at Court.”
The room detonated.
Eddie’s eyes were wide. Adrian looked smug. Lissa was hiding her smile.
“Belikov?!” Christian sputtered. “As in Guardian Dimitri Belikov? The Russian God? Stoic statue with hair like from the commercial?!”
“Yep,” Adrian said, wiping tears from his eyes. “Our Rose plays Siberian roulette and wins the jackpot.”
“I hate you all,” I muttered.
Christian leaned forward, still stunned. “That is not casual, Rose. That’s, like… fate. Epic poem-level fate.”
“Fate,” Lissa echoed softly.
Christian’s expression changed, as if a different thought had just hit him.
“That explains a lot. Including why Tasha’s been on a tear lately.”
My stomach sank. The council chamber came back in perfect clarity — polished wood, cold stares, and Tasha’s voice wrapping poison in silk.
“You mean that snide ‘untainted leaders’ comment?” I said.
Lissa frowned. “It was uncalled for. She made it personal.”
I shrugged like it didn’t matter, even though it had landed like a punch at the time. Her words still echo like a bruise I never asked for. And maybe it’s pathetic that part of me still wonders if she’s right — if everything I touch ends up tainted.
“Because it is,” Christian said. “She’s had it bad for Belikov for a while. What a small world.”
“And where do you find the time?” Eddie threw in.
Christian leaned back, fork abandoned. “You know she joined the Moroi–guardian training yesterday, right?”
I blinked. “She what?”
“Walked onto the mats like she was auditioning for a war drama,” he said. “Flame in her palm, hair perfect, smile locked on Belikov like he was the only man left in Court.”
Adrian snorted. “Please tell me she didn’t do the ‘I want to fight beside the best’ speech.”
“Oh, she did,” Christian said. “Right after she brushed imaginary lint off his sleeve and told him he looked ‘exhausted from carrying the program on his shoulders.’”
Eddie groaned. “That’s not even subtle.”
“She wasn’t trying to be,” Christian said. “She practically purred at him. I thought Mia was going to drown her on the spot.”
Sydney raised a brow. “Did she?”
“Water wall,” Christian confirmed. “Full splash. Tasha laughed it off, but the message was clear.”
Adrian leaned back, grinning. “Looks like our Rosie has competition. Tasha’s coming in hot.”
“She’s still your aunt and don’t call me Rosie,” I muttered.
Christian shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I can’t call out the dramatics. She was practically writing wedding vows with her eyes.”
Adrian raised his glass. “To the battlefield of love. May the best woman win.”
“If I flip this table, it’ll be you first,” I said sweetly, gripping my fork so hard it bent.
Before I could, Lissa’s voice cut clean through the noise: “Rose.”
I met her eyes. Big mistake.
“You’re worse than before,” she said quietly.
My throat locked. “Don’t start.”
I don’t need to start. Her voice echoed in my head, and I flinched.
“Lissa,” I snapped, heat clawing under my ribs.
Her hand trembled where it hovered. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Because I’m fine.”
“No,” Adrian said softly. “You’re not.”
The laughter was gone. Silence pressed in like a fist.
Then Lissa reached for my hand, warm and steady.
Whatever’s coming, we face it together.
I wanted to believe her. God, I wanted to.