3. Lazarus
The heavy oak door creaks open, and I glance up from the book I’ve been pretending to read. Antonio and Zayn come into my suite, Antonio’s boots echoing against the marble floor while Zayn’s wheelchair moves in silence.
The air shifts, thickens, as if their presence alone has altered the atmosphere.
They’re dressed in their ceremonial Guardian robes, the deep crimson fabric embroidered with gold thread that catches the flickering light of the chandelier above. Their faces are unreadable, but their posture is stiff and that tells me everything I need to know.
I close the book slowly, setting it on the table beside me. “What is this?” I ask, my voice calm but edged with suspicion.
Antonio clears his throat, his dark eyes avoiding mine. “We’re here to watch you,” he says, his tone flat. “To make sure you don’t leave.”
I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. “And why would I leave?”
Zayn shifts uncomfortably in his chair, his gaze darting to Antonio before settling on the floor. Antonio’s jaw tightens, and he exhales sharply through his nose. “Lazarus,” he begins, but I cut him off.
“What’s going on?” I demand, my voice rising. “Why are you here?”
Antonio hesitates, his fingers twitching like he’s about to pull his gun and start shooting. “Konstantine is marrying Ines,” he says finally, the words heavy with implication.
The room seems to tilt, the walls closing in around me. My heart pounds in my chest, a deafening rhythm that drowns out everything else. “What?” I whisper, though I’ve heard him clearly.
“The ceremony is tonight,” Zayn adds, his voice barely audible. “We’ve been ordered to keep you from attending.”
I stand abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. “He promised our father,” I snarl, my hands clenching into fists. “He swore he wouldn’t marry her. He swore it!”
Antonio nods, his expression grim. “I know. Emmanuel made it clear to the Guardians that this marriage was not permitted.”
“Then why is it happening?” I shout, my voice reverberating off the walls. “Why are you standing here instead of stopping him?”
Zayn moves forward, his left hand raised in a placating gesture. “We’re bound by the will of the Grand Master,” he says, his voice steady but laced with regret. “We cannot challenge him.”
I laugh, a bitter, hollow sound. “You know that’s bullshit. You know what she is,” I say, my voice low and dangerous. “You know Ines is Esau. Her bloodline is impure. She’s a threat to everything we’ve built.”
Antonio’s eyes narrow, and he takes a step toward me. “Careful, Lazarus,” he warns, his tone sharp. “You tread on dangerous ground.”
“Do I?” I snap, my anger boiling over. “I know you’ve been among them, Antonio. I know you’ve been working with the Esau.”
Zayn doesn’t react, his face is impassive, but Antonio’s expression darkens. “Your father commanded that I do it,” he says, his voice tight with barely restrained fury. “I am no traitor.”
“I know,” I say, my voice softening slightly. “I know you’re loyal, but how can you stand by and allow this sacrilege to occur?”
Antonio exhales sharply, his shoulders slumping.
He walks over to the sideboard and pours three glasses of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light.
He hands one to Zayn and one to me, then takes a long sip from his own glass.
“I have no power to override the Grand Master,” he says finally, his voice weary. “And you know that.”
I take the glass from him, my fingers trembling with rage. I down the whiskey in one gulp, the burn doing little to soothe the fire in my chest.
“That bitch is going to ruin everything my father built,” I say, my voice low and venomous. “Everything my forefathers built.”
Antonio sets his glass down and looks at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of pity and resolve. “There is still time,” he says quietly. “Still things to be done.”
“What?” I demand, my voice rising again. “What can be done?”
Antonio shrugs, his expression unreadable. Zayn moves his chair forward, his voice calm but firm. “Konstantine is young,” he says. “Foolish. If he doesn’t learn, then we can fix this later. We just have to wait.”
“What does that mean?” I ask.
Zayn hesitates, his gaze flicking to Antonio before settling on me. “Once Konstantine has a son,” he says slowly, “and that son is of age, then if it is necessary, the Guardians can step in and force a transition.”
I stare at him, my mind reeling. “You’re talking about overthrowing my brother,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. If anyone hears us, hears this then we are done for, and rightly so.
Zayn nods, his expression grim. “If it comes to that.”
I shake my head, my thoughts a chaotic whirlwind. “I don’t want to betray him,” I say, my voice trembling. “Despite everything, he is still the Grand Master. He is still put in his place by God. We shouldn’t challenge that.”
When I say that, both Antonio and Zayn look relieved, as if they had feared I might turn on Konstantine. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “I am bound to my brother,” I say, my voice firm. “We shared a womb together. No matter what Konstantine does, I will always stand by him.”
Antonio nods, his expression softening. “We know,” he says quietly.
I sink back into my chair, the weight of everything pressing down on me. The room is silent except for the crackling of the fire in the hearth. I close my eyes, trying to calm the storm raging inside me.
“What happens now?” I ask, my voice barely audible.
Antonio sits down across from me, his expression thoughtful. “Now,” he says, “we wait. And we watch.”
I nod, though the thought fills me with dread. I know that whatever happens next, it will change everything. I can only hope that when the time comes, I’ll be strong enough to face it.
The fire crackles, casting flickering shadows on the walls. I sit in silence, the weight of my brother’s betrayal heavy on my shoulders. And I wonder, not for the first time, if I’ll ever be able to forgive him.