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“Honor” was a word that was thrown around quite often in Perland. By soldiers and even the queen herself. But to Pavel, honor had no meaning to him or to anybody. What good was honor in a world where the only way to rise to the top was to execute and eliminate everyone that stands in your way? It was fear that ruled over the people. That, and the threat of a gun to your head or a sword to your throat.
The only person Pavel honors is his father. He wants to honor his goal and the legacy left behind. Pavel has his own objectives and his own plans. He only helped Her Majesty ascend to further bring his plans to fruition. He wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate Her Majesty or her second in-command if necessary.
Actually, he wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate her. Her second in-command was someone else entirely.
Her second in-command was callous with his words and ruthless with his sword. A lethal combination for someone that put in so much work to get to his current position. He relished in the luxury of his riches and the blood of his enemies. He floated like a butterfly but stung like a bee, always making quick work of those that opposed him or His Majesty. The feared and revered Violet Harrison, both an inspiration and an obstacle in Pavel’s eyes.
But despite Violet’s cold heart, Pavel knew how quickly he fell apart for Her Majesty. So compliant and eager to serve, even at his own detriment. He could very well be his own destruction but he was still so put together, despite constantly sinning for the queen under the ruse of Perland’s glory.
Violet was anything but glorious. He was a thorn in Pavel’s side but he’d rather leave him there than take him out.
It was laughable, how close Pavel had gotten to his enemy. There was mutual respect between them and they understood that, if it came to it, they’d fight to the death.
Violet accepted it. Pavel didn’t understand why.
But the fight seemed to remain one-sided. Even when Pavel finally had Violet where he wanted him, backed into a corner with very little room to slip away. His white pistol was in his hand and he pointed it at Violet’s forehead. But Violet remained unfazed and only smiled, like he’d been waiting for this. He made no attempts to take out his sword or to disarm Pavel. How long ago did he accept this fate?
“Are you really giving up this easily?” Pavel asked. “I thought there’d be more fight left in you.”
Violet shrugged, the smug smile on his face slowly becoming more infuriating to look at. “What can I say? I can’t help but submit to a man in uniform.”
“I’m sure Her Majesty would love to hear you say that,” Pavel muttered, ignoring his quickening heart rate. “She loves to have you bow down to her any chance you get. Your loyalties lie with her, nobody else.”
Violet simply nodded; he knew his role, he never tried to deny it. “Of course. She knows that I wouldn’t even dream of betraying her. But where do your loyalties lie, sweet Commander?” He hummed, grabbing Pavel’s pistol and angling it so it hovered over his heart. “Do they lie next to you in the bed you yourself made?” He leaned in closer, death knocking against his ribcage but he still had the upper hand. “Or do they lie at Her Majesty’s feet?”
They both knew that was a lie but it didn’t stop Pavel from swallowing thickly, finger itching to pull the trigger. Of course it was Violet chastising him for loyalty but what did he know? All he knew was how to serve the queen, how to execute and follow orders. But below the surface, he was no more useful to Her than an injured soldier, trying to hold onto his purpose despite slowly outliving it.
“Talking to a mirror now, are we?” Pavel spat. “Of course, you are nothing more than a subservient lapdog who knows to bark on command.” He shoved the pistol into Violet’s chest, consequentially shoving Violet into the wall, receiving a weak gasp in response. “The only thing you do willingly is get on your knees in front of her like you’re about to repent.”
A quizzical hum left Violet’s pursed lips, the corners slowly turning up into a smirk. “Such an astute observation. Is that something you’d like to see for yourself, Commander? If so, I'd be more than happy to oblige."
His voice was sweeter than honey, yet the venomous undertones were already seeping into Pavel’s veins. Pavel shivered, a very faint blush blossoming all over his skin but accumulating on his cheeks the most. Violet knew how easily Pavel could falter. He was a stable tower, despite the fractured foundation and the temptation to collapse in on himself when meeting Violet’s equally revered and resentful gaze.
Pavel was anything but a saint, as corrupt and cruel as the queen he served. Violet knew this. Hell, Pavel himself knew this. And yet, he acted as though he couldn’t be tainted. But the number of hearts that Pavel’s bullets pierced were equal to the number of people that Violet’s sword decapitated. Those numbers would only continue to grow, as long as they served Her Majesty.
In that case, didn’t that make Pavel as subservient as Violet? After all, they were both awarded with the bones of their enemies.
As much as Violet would want to point out Pavel’s hypocrisy, it simply didn’t exist. And he knew the reason why.
“You’d kill me, wouldn’t you?” Violet asked breathlessly. “If I obstructed your perfect future?” He tilted his head at the perfect angle for the moonlight to hit his scar, now a thin crescent moon running through his eye. He brought his free hand up to Pavel’s cheek and caressed it, lovingly, tauntingly, fingernails raking pale skin. “You would do anything to get me out of the picture.”
“....You say that, as though you wouldn’t do the same,” Pavel whispered, after a brief hesitation.
“I would. But I never had a reason to. Not yet, anyways.” Violet chuckled, his fingers tenderly tracing Pavel’s jawline and cupping his chin. “You certainly know how to stay in line,” he praised.
“... Even now?” Pavel asked, pushing the gun further into his chest.
“Even—” Violet cut himself off with a shudder, chest tight and breath coming short. A hand wrapped around my throat would be quicker, he thinks, but I can last as long as he wants me to. “Even now.”
Pavel licked his lips, eyes flitting back and forth between his gun and Violet’s reddening face. He couldn’t tell if Violet was flushed from the asphyxiation, the arousal, or both. “Even if I pull the trigger?”
“It’s a display of your honor, no? To yourself, your family, Perland…” Violet’s slender fingers ran down the length of Pavel’s neck before grabbing his collar and pulling him close, so he could feel Violet’s breath against his lips. “And you are nothing without your honor,” he hissed.
Pavel narrowed his eyes. “I don’t care about things like honor. I only have objectives. And my current objective is to restore Perland to its former glory.”
“In other words, you wish to kill me and Her Majesty.”
“If I must.”
Violet arched a brow. “And must you do so now?”
“I didn’t think you’d let me have it. But you pulled the gun closer to yourself—”
“And you doubled-down.” He feigned a smile, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You could have backed away. But, ever so relentless, you want to seize this opportunity.”
Damn bastard.
When did Pavel become so easy to read, so easy to play? Perhaps this friendship—if he could truly call it that—was becoming his weakness, now that Violet was using his own objectives against him. Now Pavel was completely exposed despite everything he wanted being right in front of him.
And Violet wasn’t stopping him. His sword swung from his hip but he didn’t make any attempt to grab it. One hand was still on the pistol, the other grasping Pavel’s collar and pulling him closer and closer, until neither of them could breathe properly from the proximity.
“... You son of a bitch ,” Pavel growled.
Violet smirked. “As a subservient lapdog , I must sniff out any threats to myself or to Her Majesty.” He pouted a bit, with mock disappointment. “I thought you would have expected that from me.”
This smartass. Only Violet was skilled enough to use all of Pavel’s words against him like this. It was as impressive as it was infuriating. Everything about this man—this frustratingly handsome and merciless man—with his black garments and hair contrasting Pavel’s white, the scar on his eye and the markings on his arm, his sharp wit, his smart tongue, he was the bane of Pavel’s existence and the reason why he even stuck around for this long.
Violet knew of Pavel’s plans. He could easily execute him and yet, it was Pavel holding him at gunpoint.
His finger rested on the trigger. “I have one shot,” he murmured.
“Make it a good one. I know you have phenomenal aim.” Violet’s eyelids fluttered shut and he tilted his head up in anticipation. “Go on, Commander,” he purred, additional heat blooming on Pavel’s already-warm skin. “No need to go easy on me.”
This felt too good to be true. Violet would never give himself up this way. He’d put up more of a fight, fighting tooth and nail until he was put down by either Pavel or himself. For all his faults, Violet was still a commendable soldier. After all, there was a reason why Her Majesty chose him as her second in-command. His loyalty knows no bounds; he wouldn’t give it all away this easily.
Violet saw his hesitation and tightened his grip around Pavel’s collar, fingers curled into a fist. "Pull it,” Violet demanded, breath coming out hot and heavy.
And who would Pavel be if he didn’t follow direct orders to kill?
He pulls the trigger. But only three things came out of it.
An empty click. A wide smile on Violet’s face. And the unspoken relief that settled the tension in Pavel’s chest.