Page 35 of One For my Enemy

“Masha,” he managed when he could speak, wetness glinting at the corners of his eyes from the impact of coughing the curse from his lungs. “Masha, Masha please—”

“It wasn’t supposed to have been you,” she told him flatly, and he swallowed, falling back slightly against the pillows. “You were supposed to have been fine. You weren’t supposed to have been the one who betrayed us.” A pause; a clenching of her jaw. “Betrayedme.”

“I didn’t,” Dimitri said hoarsely, reaching for her. “Masha, please, listen to me. I—Itouchedthe potions, yes, but I didn’t—I didn’t steal from you, I swear, I would never—”

“I can’t stay,” she said, tearing herself from his grip and rising to her feet. “I couldn’t leave you like this, but I can’t stay. You know that.”

“Masha, please,” Dimitri said, hand still outstretched. He stumbled after her, rising to his feet to follow. “Masha, wait, you need t-”

He faltered, too weak to stand, and quick as lightning she was there, easing him upright. She grimaced, hating herself for doubling back, but she really was an unnaturally good witch. It wasn’t her fault she was quicker than he was.

Itwasher fault, however, that she couldn’t make herself let go.

“Be careful,” she snapped. “You’ve been drained of most of your life for over a week, Dimitri. You can’t suddenly try to walk, you’ll only collapse—”

“Masha,” he cut in, struggling to reach behind him for balance as she shifted him back towards the bed, easing him down. “You have to know I would never do this to you. Think, Masha, what would I have to gain?” he demanded, and then Marya saw the Dimitri who was the son of Koschei; the proud, charismatic boy who’d been cleverer than all the children their age; who’d first caught her eye with the way he never deigned to bend his golden head to anyone else’s will. “I have no need for your business, and even if I did, do you really believe I would wish to crossyou,of all people? I’m not stupid, Masha,” he said, dauntless even while he lay weakened in his bed. “After everything that passed between us, I know better than to underestimate you.”

“Then how do you explain this?” Marya demanded, ambiguously waving a hand to their shared circumstance. “Someonewas stealing from us—”

“Yes,” Dimitri agreed, grimacing as he shifted his weight, “but it wasn’t me, Masha. I promise you, it wasn’t me. Nor will it happen again under my watch,” he added, mouth tightening. “I’d only just found out, Masha, the night before you arrived—”

“Tell me, then,” she said. “Tell me who it was and I’ll kill them myself.”

She’d been gravely serious, as always, but to her surprise, Dimitri smiled.

Hesmiledat her, infuriatingly, and in her agitation she curled one hand to a fist, turning away until he caught her arm, holding her back.

“I can’t tell you,” he said, “becauseyou will kill them, Masha. In fact,” he murmured, the smile fading slowly from his face, “I really thought you would kill me.”

She said nothing.

“I hadhoped,of course,” Dimitri continued softly, “that you wouldn’t. That perhaps something between us would have stopped you. But still, it was a gamble nonetheless.”

“Yes, it was. You might have died,” Marya informed him. “I might have let you.”

“Yes,” Dimitri agreed. “But you didn’t.” He reached out, cautiously, to take hold of her chin, tilting it up gently to draw her gaze to his. “Why didn’t you simply let me die, Masha?”

She willed herself to look away from him; when she couldn’t, she shut her eyes.

“Dima,” she whispered shamefully, and he shifted to take her face with both hands, his lips brushing her forehead.

“Is it really so terrible?” he asked, sighing it to her temple. “Masha, my Masha. Is it really such a failing that you couldn’t find it in yourself to kill me? Many people in love have failed to kill each other before, you know.”

“I don’t love you,” she forced out, as coldly as she could manage.

She felt him catch something in his throat, swallowing it down.

“No,” he agreed after a moment. “No, of course not.”

“I don’t.” She floated around in the silence, fidgeting, before adding, “I can’t.”

He stroked her cheek. “Ah, Masha, those are two different things, aren’t they?” he asked knowingly, and she grimaced.

“Don’t make this about technicalities. We knew a long time ago we couldn’t be together, Dima, we knew twelve years ago we didn’t stand a chance. We chose our sides, and now—”

“No. You choseyourside,” Dimitri reminded her, stroking her hair as her eyes fluttered open, meeting his. “Youchose. You didn’t let me choose, did you?”

She blinked. “What?”

---