Chapter 12 Sebastian #2
“Call it mutually assured destruction. You keep bringing this war to my family, we’ll bring it to yours.
” Sebastian glanced over at Meredith where she spoke with an assistant to the British ambassador.
“Play the numbers, Mikael. You have lot more to lose and we’ve been surviving your attempts for a lot longer. ”
Pivoting, Sebastian let him chew on the threat and returned to the table.
Meredith gave him a small smile and reached for his hand.
Her fingers were like ice, but he took it gratefully.
It took hours, but the conversations begun in earnest with Meredith’s arrival finally began to wind down.
Seeing his opportunity to withdraw, he leaned over to murmur, “When we’re done here—”
She squeezed his hand. “I have a flight to catch.” Her reply caught him by surprise. “You have three more days of events, and I have an appointment I need to keep.”
He frowned. “What appointment?”
“Your mother invited me for tea.” Meredith smiled. “Besides, you have work to do.”
Utterly dissatisfied with her response, he made their excuses and escorted her to the door. Once in the hallway, his security team—and apparently hers, since the number present seemed to have doubled in size—fell in around them. He found a quiet corner and rounded on her. “What are you doing here?”
“I told you. I made my choice.” Despite her pallor, she wore a smile.
“You told me I had the power to decide, so I did. I spoke to your brother. I spoke to your mother, and I spoke to Kate. You needed an opportunity. I wanted to help make it happen. I know what I want and where I want to be. I also know I’m done letting you dictate all the terms.” She glanced at her watch.
“Now, forgive me, but I do have to go.” She kissed him and he dragged her back when she would have walked away.
“You have to leave right now?”
“Actually,” Kate interrupted. “She needed to leave fifteen minutes ago. We have a secure window and we’re taking it.”
Without another word, Meredith gave him another kiss and then she was off with a remarkably tight security formation guarding her. Sebastian stared after her before looking at Vidal. “You knew.”
“Of course,” he nodded. “But you told me you didn’t want to hear it.”
“Three days ago, on the yacht.” Sebastian glared.
“You didn’t change your orders.” Vidal grinned. “And she’s good for you. Shall we go?”
It was a plot—his whole family and his security were conspiring with Meredith. It infuriated him and, at the same time, filled him a private kind of joy. She’d come for him. Damn right, she was good for him.
By the end of the second night of official duties, Sebastian was ready to do the assassin’s jobs for them.
He’d shaken more hands, made small talk in more languages, and drank nearly a cask’s worth of wine in small digestible sips along with a permanent headache, and aching hunger to speak to Meredith.
Yet, each time he’d called her, she’d taken over the conversation, told him she loved him and gotten off the phone before he managed three sentences.
“Thirty minutes,” Vidal reported quietly. “The French ambassador is scheduled to meet with his mistress, and we’ll leave with him.”
“Excellent.” He glanced at the wine glass and avoided the impropriety of checking his watch.
“We have company.” Vidal adjusted his stance and Sebastian glanced at the etched mirror.
Mikael Kachusov approached and he wasn’t alone.
The shift rippling through the room was subtle, but unmistakable.
The arrival of the colonel, the most senior member of the Kachusov family and the head of their political party—and current senior minister to Belaria—would make such a ripple.
Setting the wine glass down, Sebastian observed their progress from across the room.
They were heading straight for him, a fact his security paid close attention to as three members of his detail joined Vidal.
The diamond formation closed around Sebastian and, one-by-one, the conversations around the room dragged to a halt.
Catching the Swiss ambassador’s eye, Sebastian shook his head once and the man inclined his head.
The ambassadorial junket provided the necessary cover and security arrangements to bring Sebastian into the country, but the whole point was to meet with the Kachusov family.
To go from attaché to colonel demonstrated a remarkable success.
“Breathe, Vidal,” Sebastian advised. “This is what we wanted.”
His bodyguard said nothing and remained impassive when Colonel Kachusov stopped in front of him. Cool defiance hardened Kachusov’s eyes as they met Sebastian’s gaze. “Your Highness.”
The two word greeting punctured one layer of tension fisting the room. “Colonel.”
“We would speak with you in private. I would speak with you in private and with His Highness, Grand Duke Armand.” What the request lacked in diplomacy, it made up for in dramatic flair.
“If you would permit us a moment to make arrangements for a private room?” Sebastian didn’t look away, but the hush the colonel’s arrival caused broke. Vidal didn’t move from Sebastian’s side and it took only a few minutes until a room was arranged.
An aide handed Sebastian a phone. He paced away from the colonel and waited a beat. Armand answered on the second ring. “He’s there?” His brother’s automatic awareness of the situation would have surprised him if Sebastian didn’t know his security reported to him hourly.
“Yes, and he’s ready to talk.”
“Is there any possibility this is a trap?” Cool appraisal tempered the emotion in Armand’s voice.
“There’s always a possibility, however, we’re in the Swiss Embassy.” Which reduced the chances to a more favorable level.
“Safety first, brother.” Armand exhaled a breath. “I wasn’t fond of this plan to begin with.”
“We dislike the alternative more.” When Armand didn’t disagree, Sebastian glanced toward the colonel and gestured to the room. At the door, they surrendered their cell phones. Sebastian would call Armand back on the landline.
It was a concession to allow the colonel to enter first—and a show of respect. It mirrored the respect Colonel Kachusov showed when he addressed Sebastian with the honorary ‘Your Highness.’ Baby steps, perhaps, but in the course of their long-standing feud, it was important.
Aware of the attention on them, Sebastian gave Kachusov the preference of seat choice.
The decision acknowledged the colonel’s position in his own country, and emphasized Sebastian’s graciousness.
It also allowed Sebastian to keep his back to the wall.
Vidal’s tension wouldn’t be noticeable to their guests, but Sebastian didn’t have to look at his bodyguard to feel the waves of rolling off him.
But it’s dangerous… Meredith’s voice whispered through his soul and he couldn’t find fault with her assessment, however, he had every reason to live. The colonel finally sat, electing a chair near the center and closer to the door. Circling around, Sebastian took the seat opposite him.
They’d both ignored the head of the table and the implication of power inherent to the seat.
Side twinging with phantom pain where he’d been stabbed, Sebastian reached forward and punched in the number on conference room phone, speaker on.
“Your Highness,” he addressed his brother and kept it formal when he answered.
“Colonel Kachusov would like a word with us directly.”
“Thank you, Sebastian.” Neutrality echoed in the words. “Colonel.”
Ice would have been warmer than the colonel’s expression. “Your Highness, or should I say Imperial Majesty?”
“Your Highness is sufficient for now.” Armand’s smooth reply did nothing to relieve the strained atmosphere.
“Then let us speak bluntly, Your Highness. When I was in Los Angeles, you assured me your interest in returning to Belaria to sit on a throne did not exist.” Tiny white lines tightened around the colonel’s mouth and his brow seemed permanently furrowed.
“That was before the airstrike and the latest chatter which met Grand Duchess Alyxandretta’s announcement.
” His brother’s response actually surprised Sebastian.
Armand, it seemed, was also done playing.
“For months, all we have heard from Belaria is a stream of invectives against our family and the purchasing of bounties on our heads.”
“You cannot prove the last event came from anyone under my command.” Kachusov ‘s rage was a palpable force in the room. Mikael shifted uncomfortably at the latent hostility in the colonel’s voice.
“And Belaria does not need pampered royalty to act as our figureheads. We’ve done fine without your family for decades. ”
“Yet, you don’t deny your complicity. If you are not ready to discuss this matter, Colonel, we can certainly bring it up during my visit next summer.” The verbal gauntlet landed in the room like a live grenade with the pin pulled.
The colonel’s hand clenched into a fist and the temperature in the room shifted. Vidal was no longer standing by the wall. He’d moved like a ghost to shadow Sebastian.
“Brave words from a man several thousand miles away. Especially since your brother sits here at my mercy.”
In for a keg of dynamite, Sebastian tossed the final match.
“You don’t have mercy in you, Colonel. If you did, you wouldn’t have begun your negotiations with the tip of the sword at our throats.
As I pointed out to your cousin,” Sebastian didn’t have to look at Mikael to know he’d blanched at the colonel’s reaction.
Nor did he dare take his attention off the greatest threat in the room.
“You started this private war. We’re giving you this single opportunity to end it peaceably. ”
“Or what?” The colonel slammed to his feet and his fist hit the table. Redness infused his face and his jaw tightened.
Vidal set a digital tablet on the table and slid it across. “Or this.”