Page 77 of One For my Enemy

“You came because you’re angry, Fedorov prince,” Bryn said. “You’re accustomed to life going your way, aren’t you, only now the easy choices don’t seem so easy, do they? You can’t murder your brother, because you love him,” he guessed. “You can’t murder me, because you want my help. You want to put your golden hands to something and watch the life drain out of it, understandably, but you can’t. I’d suggest therapy,” he added drily, “only I suspect you’re too far gone.”

Dimitri spun, rounding on him. “What is it you suggest, then?”

“Me? Revenge, of course.” Bryn sipped daintily at his glass. “Whose fault is this?”

“I—” Dimitri hesitated. Roman’s. His face contorted, displeased.

“Go back a step,” Bryn advised.

Marya’s. She was the one who started this.

No, she wasn’t. It was her mother.

No, Dimitri thought again, it wasn’t.

This began with Koschei.

“You have something against my father,” Dimitri guessed dully, glancing at The Bridge.

“Look how clever you are,” Bryn confirmed, toasting him. “Brava, little prince.”

Dimitri thought his opinions about Koschei were, at the moment, more wisely kept to himself.

“I have nothing to gain by standing against my father,” he warned.

“Not much to lose, either,” Bryn remarked. “What’s his is yours, isn’t it? Marked out for you, the heir to the throne. All this duty and honor,” he scoffed distastefully, rising to his feet and striding forward to face Dimitri. “It’s just so…tiresome,isn’t it? All this power,” he mused, “and what has it ever done for you?”

Dimitri pointedly did not confess to having asked himself the same question.

“Bold statement,” he said instead, “seeing as you’re currently addressing one of the most influential witches in the Borough. In all the Boroughs.”

“And what has that cost you?” Bryn asked.

Marya. Lev. Roman, on a good day.

The majority of his sanity.

The entirety of his soul.

“Just a thought,” Bryn remarked, clapping Dimitri on the back and leading him back into the living room, giving him a brief nudge down to the sofa. “I also happen to know your father is in an ideal place to be taken down a peg.”

“Fae rumors certainly run rampant,” Dimitri muttered, conceding to sit as The Bridge’s hand failed to move from his shoulder.

“Something like that,” Bryn agreed, amused. “But after all, why shouldn’t he be? He just lost his son. His other son’s magic is compromised, and then there’s… you.” Bryn’s smile twitched, then thinned. “Your family’s rather vulnerable, isn’t it? I’d hate to think you have any enemies who might find a gap in your armor.”

With that, Bryn flicked the side of Dimitri’s neck, and he flinched.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” Dimitri said, and Bryn shrugged.

“Well, that’s debatable,” he said. “I was never going to make it easy, was I? No fun in that. But Icouldconceivably help you, in some respect. You chose well, if not especially wisely.”

“So you want my father dead,” Dimitri registered, dazed. “That’s your price for taking me to Lev?”

“What? No, don’t be silly,” Bryn scoffed. “I mean yes, I most certainlydowant your father dead, but that’s more of a constant, secondary whimsy. He despises me and my kind, doesn’t he?” he prompted, falling into his seat and picking up his whisky as Dimitri didn’t answer. “No need to confirm. I know as much. But no, his life is not my price.”

“Then what is it?” Dimitri prompted, bracing himself.

“No price,” Bryn said.

---