Page 112 of One For my Enemy

“Fine,” she sighed facetiously, “have it your way. The question still requires an answer.”

“How firm is his loyalty?” Bryn murmured, interrupting for the first time to look up from his drink. “Flaccid, I suspect.”

Dimitri cut him a glare before turning back to Sasha. “It can be tested,” he clarified, “but first, I want to know you have a plan. A sound one.”

She seemed to find that reasonable. “My sister is in the process of growing our mother’s empire beyond the scope of witches,” she said. “I assume you know as much?”

Dimitri nodded.

“Standing against Koschei outright is costly,” Sasha explained. “He controls too much. He can pull too many strings. I want him banished from the Boroughs. Excommunicated.”

“Banished,” Dimitri echoed. “An uncommon practice. And very few are even privileged enough to know who Koschei is.”

“He’d have to commit a terrible crime,” Sasha agreed. “Something the other Borough witches couldn’t turn their heads from.”

“He’s already notorious for precisely those crimes,” Dimitri informed her. “Perhaps you’ve noticed? Any Borough witch who speaks against him is quick to lose their support, or worse.”

He didn’t feel it necessary to add he was usually the reason for that. How many of Koschei’s messes had Dimitri dutifully tidied, leaving no trace of wrongdoing behind? He knew better than anyone that no evidence of his father’s indiscretions existed for anyone to find.

“Well,” Sasha said, “what could the Boroughs not accept, then?”

“Wrong,” The Bridge cut in when Dimitri opened his mouth, delivering them both to silence. He crossed one leg spiritedly over the other, admonishing Sasha from his seat on the sofa. “You can’t think to blow through a brick wall with one shot, Rusalka, no matter how powerful the weapon.”

Dimitri slid Bryn an impatient glance. “I was about to say the same.”

“Should’ve had the quicker draw, then,” Bryn advised, half-smiling, and Dimitri rolled his eyes, turning back to Sasha.

“The Bridge is right—you don’t need a heavy blow. What you need is someone who can dismantle Koschei slowly, brick by brick. Some Borough witches can be intimidated away from his side to yours,” he clarified, “and some can be bought. I suppose it’s possible some others may stand against him purely for the sake of truth,” he conceded, grimacing, “or for righteousness. There’s a spare few honorable ones in the bunch.”

“Detestably,” Bryn agreed, eyeing his nails.

“Well,” Sasha said, shrugging. “I’m dead, so. It’ll have to be you, Your Highness,” she informed Dimitri, who retained his doubts.

“What exactly is your role in this?” Dimitri asked her. “You want me to be the one to turn the Borough witches against my father, clearly, but then what will you do?”

“Oh, I have some idea,” Sasha said, exchanging a highly discomfiting glance with The Bridge. “After all, what is Koschei without his resources?”

“Still a man with an empire,” Dimitri warned.

Another shrug. “Empires have toppled for less. And besides, what is an emperor without heirs? Just a man in a worthless crown, I suspect.”

Dimitri paused, considering her response.

“Are you saying you plan to kill my brother?”

“Would you like me to?” Sasha asked sweetly.

Dimitri permitted himself the luxury of hesitation, though nothing beyond a pulse of silence.

“No. Don’t touch Roma,” Dimitri warned. “You cross my brother and we’re done here. More than done.”

Sasha seemed unsurprised; she looked as if she’d expected him to say as much. “No need for threats, Dimitri. Just find a way to poison the well at the Boroughs.”

“I’m the only reason the well isn’t plenty toxic already,” he told her, stifling a scoff. “I prevented most of the poisoning myself.”

“Well, then nobody knows better than you how to undo it,” Sasha advised, slate eyes luminous against the dark.

V. 3

---