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The man smiled, and it was as if the spring sun had risen after a long dark winter. “Prince Konstantin Leonidovich Berezin, of Blood Imperial, at your service.”
I scooted off the bed. “Why does he call you Sasha?” “He knows I don’t like it.” “And how does he know that?” “Because he is my fourth cousin,” Alessandro said. “He keeps reminding me, as if I will forget. Family. Can’t live with them, can’t strangle them. It’s terrible.”
“This isn’t the Imperium, Konstantin. And she isn’t a rock, she is a person. You’ve grown accustomed to thinking everything belongs to your family including people. It’s a bad habit. In this country people have freedom and a choice. Whatever choice she makes, I’ll help her realize it. If someone decides to block her path, I will remove them.”
“I’m mad at you.” “I know.” “I want it officially noted.” “Should I prepare a document signed by two witnesses to acknowledge you being mad at me?”
“He is Caesar,” Victoria said. “The whole thing was cooked up by the National Assembly to dismantle that idiotic conspiracy, and your grandfather infiltrated it and got himself appointed as head idiot.”
