That's how I met this man pt2

I stared at Cicrul Junior, dressed in a suit for the evening, smoothing his hair in front of the mirror. He was wonderfully charming in his black tailored clothes. The carefully pressed shirt, the fitted jacket and the shiny cufflinks on his sleeves made him look a little older. Even his eternally boyish expression was gone from his face; he now looked like a young man of high society, with wealth and extensive family connections.

I rose from the banquette, holding up my skirt and trying to keep my heels on as I cursed Kai Asanor for his ‘impeccable taste’. For the first time in my life, I'd decided to wear a dress to dinner, since Grant had warned me that we'd have guests – some of his father's close friends from the Kingdom of Rith. But all the evening gowns the president's nephew had chosen were too dainty for me; I was completely incapable of wearing such things.

Circul Jr. grinned as I waddled over to him, tangled in my hem.

“If you say a word now, I'll dig my right heel between your eyes,” I warned, seeing that the guy was about to open his mouth to comment on my awkward gait.

Grant lifted the corners of his lips.

“Actually, I wanted to compliment you,” he kindly gave me an elbow to lean on.

“What compliment?”

We were about to reach the stairs leading down to the ground floor when Circul turned to me, tilted his head slightly to the right and said, “You look a little better today than you usually do. Not that battered, rain-soaked crow.”

“I don't know whether to be glad or cry at your remark,” I wrapped part of my chain around my wrist and stepped onto the first step.

On the one hand, the fact that Grant had given me any kind of commendation was an achievement, but on the other hand, what else could I expect from the son of an enemy? Even though we had killed each other, not gone mad in the Labyrinths of Oblivion, slept side by side in every bed in the mansion and been baptised in battle with stale dumplings, that didn't make us cronies. I was still Siri, an ordinary girl with a bomb around her neck, and Grant was still the son of the most hated president in the world.

We were downstairs too early for dinner, so to avoid standing in the hallway we decided to wait in the small living room.

The wind ruffled the curtains as we entered the room. The balcony door was open, letting in the cool evening air. A tall man's silhouette loomed faintly in the opening, between the dandelions of light from the street lamps.

The unknown man turned when he heard our footsteps. I stared at the outline of the man with interest until Grant switched on the table lamp to illuminate the room.

It was only Kai. I looked around anxiously for Barg, as the dog always hung around Asanor Junior. There was no dog in sight, but sad Kai smelled of a perfume that was so pungent and unpleasant – it made me want to sneeze. I pressed my finger against the dimple between my upper lip and nose to stop myself from sneezing.

I chose a far, dark corner, grabbed a magazine from the table and hurried to the most comfortable chair.

But I didn't reach my destination. I was interrupted.

“Abi? Is that you?” Kai asked with in a broken voice. The guy ran up to me and hugged me from behind, knocking all the air out of my lungs. “I missed you so much...” he literally tried to strangle me with a hug.

I shrugged to loosen his grip, but inhaled the scent of peppery perfume and coughed in surprise. Pepper was maddening, it made my heart race, brought tears to my eyes and I'd never been closer to wanting to run ten... already nine metres away and explode – just so I wouldn't have to breathe that noxious black pepper flavour again.

“Dav, you're mistaken. This isn't Abina. It's Siri, our guest,” Circul saved me with his intervention.

These unexpected embraces ended, and I was able to retreat silently to the balcony door, to the fresh air.

Dav? I looked at the blonde, trying to find a difference between him and Kai.

If someone had told me earlier that Grant had two twin cousins, I would have been very grateful. Now I had to pretend that I had known all my life that the Minister of Defense had another son. I wondered how much more I didn't know about the president's family.

“So similar...” Dav's sharp blue eyes studied me intently, focusing on my white floor-length dress with embroidery on the chest and a loose skirt.

“If you don't look at her in the light,” a wry smile slipped across Grant's lips.

I flared inwardly, annoyed at his constant teasing, feigned offence, snorted and walked to a nearby chair. My ‘mate in bombastic misfortune’ was sprawled on the sofa, joined by Dav Asanor, who sat down directly in front of me.

The blue-eyed guy looked at me with interest as he talked to Circul about mutual acquaintances. I, too, stared at the young man in front of me with curiosity hidden behind a bored expression, jealous of Grant's inability to smell for the first time in my life.

The conversation soon died down, everyone thinking on their own, secretly hoping for a dinner announcement soon.

Asanor pulled his eyes away from the sky outside the window and stared at the bomb with a look of incomprehensible regret. Or was it pity? Without words, it was clear that he was well aware of the deadly danger clinging to my throat.

“Beautiful thing...” he sighed at last.

Unconsciously, I reached my palm to my neck, my fingertips touching the smooth ivory, tracing the rough surface set with precious stones.

Yes, the collar was truly beautiful, there was no taking that away, but the possibilities it held were frightening.

I let out an imperceptible sigh and closed my eyes for a moment, chasing away the unhappy thoughts; the magazine didn't interest me at all, but I still stubbornly read the small lines on the seventh page, wanting to disappear into the paper world.

Now I knew who had been in the Hole on the night of the raid. It was Dav I'd seen in the commotion, the one who'd rescued the documents from the cupboard next to the bar.

I thought about the funny circumstances. The officials, the entire top leadership of Unica, were trying their best to shut down the game, to eradicate any mention of Virtul, while their children were setting up secret hideouts to circumvent their parents' ban.

The story is as old as the world, the eternal confrontation between fathers and children. The older generation has never understood the aspirations of the younger, and the younger generation has never tried to understand the motives of their elders. There is no more ridiculous, ironic and regrettable conflict.

Soon the president and his guests arrived, and the dining room filled with conversation, jokes about the old days, the clinking of glasses and the clatter of forks on the glaze.

The evening was more pleasant than I had expected, but I could not escape the strange sensation that came over me every time a new acquaintance's eyes met mine.

There was an incomprehensible remorse in the light blue, clear eyes, from beneath which a quiet sadness peeped out in waves – not ostentatious and begging for universal pity, no, it was that special sadness that smolders ashes at the bottom of the soul, buried under a layer of contrived feelings and emotions.

As we walked out into the corridor, Dav came up beside us, his cold palm touching my bare wrist, whether by accident or design. Our gazes crossed again.

Once again I was stunned by those eyes. Even though Kai and Dav were siblings, born on the same day, they were so radically different. The fun and recklessness of one contrasted sharply with the seriousness and thoughtfulness of the other.

The man paused for a moment, nodded and apologised.

I grabbed Grant's elbow and walk carefully up the stairs, my back feeling the attention. No matter how many times I looked back, the minister's eldest son still stared at us regretfully, making me wonder why he was so interested in me.

That's how I met Dav. That's how I met the man who divided my life into two parts, before I met him and after.

And I didn't even know then that there were no accidents. And it's still a mystery to me what that meeting on a quiet May evening meant for us. A trial? A punishment? Or a gift of fate?

I welcomed another Asanor into my life with a strained smile.