Chapter 21 Obsidian Flames #2
We left the office together. The palace had shifted into afternoon mode, staff busy with whatever thousand tasks kept the monarchy running. We moved through corridors like ghosts, Viktor's hand on my back, my shoulder brushing his arm.
We reached my chambers. Viktor did his automatic sweep, checking corners and windows and all the places threats could hide. Old habits. Useful ones.
“Clear,” he said finally.
I locked the door. Started toward him, then paused. “Actually. Before we...” I gestured vaguely between us. “I need to check something with élodie. About tomorrow's schedule changes.”
Viktor's eyebrow rose. “Now?”
“She texted earlier. Said there's a conflict with the economic summit.” I pulled out my phone, typed quickly. “Won't take long. Five minutes.”
His jaw tightened. Disappointment flickering across his face before professional mask slammed back into place. “Of course. I will wait in hall—”
“No. Stay.” I caught his hand. Squeezed. “Please. I just need to sort this, then we have all night.”
A knock came almost immediately. élodie must have been close.
“Come in,” I called.
She entered carrying her ever-present tablet, looking apologetic. “Sorry about the timing. I know it's late.” Her eyes flicked to Viktor, then back to me. Taking in the locked door. The intimate distance between us. “I can come back—”
“It's fine. What's the conflict?”
She moved to the desk, pulled up her calendar. “The French ambassador moved his dinner to Thursday. Same night as the economic summit reception. Your father wants you at both.”
“Impossible. They're across the city from each other.”
“I know.” She scrolled through options. Her fingers moved fast. Practiced. “I can push the ambassador to Friday, but that puts you at three events in one day. Or move the summit reception, but that requires coordinating with eight different delegations.”
Viktor stepped closer, looking over her shoulder at the tablet. “What time does ambassador dinner end?”
“Nine, if we're lucky. Ten more likely.”
“And summit reception starts?”
“Eight.”
“He cannot be two places at once,” Viktor said flatly.
“Thank you for that tactical insight,” élodie said. But she smiled. Warm. Then her eyes caught on something on the screen. A notification. She swiped it away quickly. Too quickly. “I'm trying to make it work. The King insists both are crucial.”
“Papa insists everything is crucial,” I muttered. Moved to stand beside Viktor, studying the schedule. “What if I skip the ambassador dinner entirely? Send regrets?”
“He'll take it as an insult. France is already touchy about trade negotiations.”
“Then skip the reception.”
“And insult eight countries instead of one?” She tapped something on her tablet. Another screen. Another swipe. “The math doesn't work in our favor.”
Viktor's hand brushed my lower back. Brief. Supportive. Gone before élodie could see.
Except she did see. Her eyes tracked the movement. Just for a second. Then back to the screen. Expression unchanged. But I caught it. That flicker of... what? Assessment? Cataloging?
“Split the difference,” Viktor suggested. “Attend ambassador dinner. Leave early. Arrive at reception late but make appearance.”
élodie considered. Her fingers stilled on the tablet. “That could work. If we coordinate transport perfectly. If traffic cooperates. If nothing goes wrong.” She looked at Viktor. Held his gaze just a beat too long. “You'd need to plan the route. Security for both venues. Backup if timing fails.”
“Can do.”
“Good.” She made notes. Fast typing. “I'll notify both venues about adjusted timing. You'll need to charm the ambassador into accepting a shorter dinner.”
“Charming is what I do best,” I said.
“Among other things.” Her smile was warm. Genuine. The same smile I'd known for years. But her eyes were on her tablet again. Scrolling. Always moving. “I'll coordinate with Viktor on security details tomorrow morning. Make sure everything's airtight.”
“Appreciated,” Viktor said.
She saved her notes, then looked up at me. “How are you? Really. You look exhausted.”
“I'm fine.”
“Sebastian.” She moved closer. Touched my arm. The same gesture she'd made a thousand times. Comfort. Concern. Her hand was warm. Familiar. But something about the grip felt measured. Deliberate. “You can lie to everyone else. Not to me. What's going on?”
I glanced at Viktor. He gave a small nod.
“Just tired,” I said. “Everything that's been happening. The attempts. The pressure. It's wearing.”
“I know.” Her hand squeezed gently. Then released. Her fingers trailed down my forearm as she pulled away. Light. Almost imperceptible. Like she was checking for something. “But you're handling it. Better than anyone expected.”
The words should have felt comforting. Did feel comforting. But underneath, something nagged.
“Your father's proud,” she continued. “Even if he doesn't say it. He told me yesterday that you've been more present. More engaged.” She smiled. “Whatever you're doing, it's working.”
“Good to know I'm meeting expectations.”
“You're exceeding them.” She collected her tablet. Held it close to her chest. “You're in good hands. Viktor's been...” She paused. Chose her words carefully. “Attentive. Very thorough with security protocols.”
“He does his job well,” I said carefully.
“More than his job, I think.” Her voice was gentle. Understanding. She glanced at Viktor. Then back to me. “I'm glad. You deserve someone who actually sees you.”
She moved toward the door, paused with her hand on the handle. Looked back at me with something soft in her expression. “Get some rest, Sebastian. Real rest. You look like you need it.”
Her eyes flicked to Viktor one more time. Quick. Assessing. Then back to me.
“I'll send you the final schedule once I've confirmed everything.” She smiled. Perfect. Practiced. “Sleep well.”
She left. Door closing with a soft click.
Silence settled. Heavy. Thick.
“She's always been like that,” I said finally. “Efficient. Caring. Always making sure everything runs smoothly.”
“Da.” Viktor moved to the window. Looked out at the gardens below. “She is good at her job.”
“She's been my friend since we were children. Since my mother died. She's the only person outside this room who knows about...” I gestured vaguely. “Everything.”
“Is good to have friend you trust.”
Something in his tone made me pause. “But?”
“No but.” He turned to face me. “Just observation. She pays attention. Notices things.”
“That's what makes her good at her job.”
“Da. Is true.” He moved closer. Touched my face. “I am glad you have person you trust. Everyone needs that.”
He kissed me. Soft. Gentle. Changing the subject without saying it.
I let him. Let the conversation drift away. Let the questions I wasn't quite ready to ask settle into the back of my mind.
We moved to the bed. Shed clothes. Slid under covers that smelled like cedar and safety.
Viktor pulled me against his chest. Arms around me. Warm. Solid. Real.
“Are you happy?” I asked into the darkness.
“With you? Da. Always.”
“Even with everything that's happening? Marcel. The attempts. All of it?”
“Especially with all of that.” His arms tightened. “Because it means you are alive. Means we have this. Means tomorrow comes.”
I closed my eyes. Let his heartbeat lull me toward sleep.
Outside, rain had started. The sound washed over the windows, turning the world soft and grey.
Inside, the fire burned down to embers, glowing obsidian-red in the darkness.
Everything felt peaceful. Safe. Normal.
But in the morning, I'd remember the way élodie's fingers had moved across that tablet. The way she'd swiped away that notification. The way she'd looked at Viktor like she was filing away information for later.
In the morning, I'd remember.
But tonight, I just wanted to sleep.