Christian remained where he stood for just a few more moments, stepping inside the small room to take a seat next to Dimitri. A heavy sigh escaped him, and he found himself doing the exact same as Dimitri—watching Rose’s face carefully. He could hear her pulse, and though it was weak, it sounded better than it had when Rose was shot. He pressed his hands together, fingers interlocking as his arms rested in his lap.
He expected Tasha was already dead by now. She had been sentenced to death by lethal injection, the last he heard. She even had the nerve to use her last words to apologize to him. Apologize for what? Tearing Lissa’s life apart with the use of Rose’s death? Tasha forgot that killing Rose wouldn’t just destroy Dimitri. Her death would bring about a sort of domino effect. It’d hurt Janine and Abe the worst; Rose was their daughter. Then, it would be Lissa, Dimitri, and Christian. After, it’d circulate to Eddie, Angeline, Jill, Sydney, and everyone else who considered Rose their friend. Christian peered over at Dimitri. “I’m sorry about everything that happened with my aunt, Dimitri. I’m just glad that Rose is alive. Knowing her, she’ll bounce back at full speed.”
Footsteps drew closer, and Christian peered over his shoulder to find Lissa standing behind him. Moving out of his chair, he allowed Lissa to sit in his place and knelt down next to her. “Glad you could join us,” he murmured. “Rose is sounding better, Lissa. I think she’ll be just fine, though I think Belikov could honestly use a hug from you. And yes, I’m being serious.”
It was insane what this world had come to; an innocent nephew apologizing for his aunt’s murderous actions, which had led to a whole revolution in the moroi and dhampir society. It went unsaid that Dimitri did not accept the apology – not because he didn’t think it was heartfelt, despite the rumours, Christian was a boy with his heart in the right place, but because the apology was not supposed to come from him. It was supposed to be whispered through pink lips, flanked by a strigoi- bitten cheek. Where was the fighter for j u s t i c e he knew was hidden inside Tasha ? He wished to God she was still in there somewhere, choking in shame & regret.
Christian was right about ( 1 ) thing, though; Rose would recover. Every day, blue lips took on a stronger shade of red – in fact, the cerulean had been defeated only a day ago, now buried beneath fragile rosebuds. And though he was supposed to keep his hands to himself, he had found his fingertips brushing her forehead, her cheek, her chin. Against his skin, she was cold as ice – but the frost was thawing. Perhaps that was why flowers bloomed upon her lips; her whole body was returning to spring after a deadly winter.
He had let himself become hypnotized by the rise and fall of her chest, but the spell was broken when Christian spoke to address another; Vasilisa. Although she was his savior and the dearest friend of the woman he loved, respect for her newfound position forced him to his feet, and pulled him into a sweeping bow, upon which he returned to his seat. Christian’s comment, however, brought out an atmos- phere of familiarity. It brought out a grimace as well. “I am doing fine without a hug,” he protested quietly, his voice automatically lowered in order not to disturb Rose, “although I appreciate your company. Both of you.”
With the recent drama at Court, Christian was even more quiet than usual. Tasha had been sent off to Tarasov and he remained to himself, only talking to Lissa, Rose and Dimitri, and rarely others unless he was addressed with something important. Most were smart to not press him with matters relating to his estranged aunt. They knew what sort of consequences they were in danger of facing if they even dared. He stood at the doorway of Rose’s room, observing her and Dimitri in silence. He’d never seen Dimitri or Lissa so worried, and even he was worried himself. What kind of long-term effects would it have on the pair of them if Rose wasn’t able to pull through? He shuddered at the thought, and brought himself back to the present. “Is she alright?” he asked quietly. Despite all the bickering he and Rose did in the past, she was still his friend and he still cared about her, even if it took a while for people to see it.
A constant frown lingered on his forehead, worry and distress deepening the creases. His gaze was securely fixed on Rose’s face, as if she would perish the second he looked away. Sometimes, he would catch himself holding his breath or slowing his breathing pattern, inadvertently following hers. In his mind, thoughts swirled. To focus on a single one was as impossible as catching smoke with one’s bare hands, so he didn’t try. Instead, he let them run his brain weary.
Obviously, Rose played a big part in these thoughts. Lissa, too, with her worrying being the same intensity as his, although she was a little too caught up in the elections to be around as much as she would like. Then there was guilt over Adrian, gnawing in the pit of his stomach. And buckets of sympathy for Christian, whose life had taken a turn for the worse. Which led him to Tasha…
Although he was disappointed in his own slow reflexes, Dimitri was relieved to hear a familiar voice to his left. Shooting a quick glance in the direction of the door, he found a pair of Ozera-blue eyes. "She will be.“ The confidence in his voice surprised him, but he had already decided that she had to pull through. She had no choice. "You can come on in,” he added, not wanting the Moroi to stand awkwardly in the doorway, “I think Vasilisa is on her way, too.”
