The Golden Lily

"Mr. Ivashkov," said the bartender. "Nice to see you back."

"Can I get food delivered down here again?" asked Nathan.

"Of course."

Again. This subterranean lair had probably been Nathan's mainstay for all meals since arriving in San Diego. I allowed the terrace one last, wistful thought and then followed Nathan and Adrian inside. Nathan selected a corner table intended for eight people. Maybe he liked his space. Or maybe he liked pretending he was presiding over a corporate meeting. The bartender gave us menus and took drink orders. I got coffee. Adrian ordered a martini, earning disapproving looks from his father and me.

"It's barely noon," said Nathan.

"I know," said Adrian. "I'm surprised I held out that long too." Nathan ignored the comment and turned to me. "You're very young. You must have just started with the Alchemists."

"They start us all young," I agreed. "I've been working on my own for a little over a year."

"I admire that. Shows a great deal of responsibility and initiative." He nodded thanks as the bartender set down a bottle of sparkling water. "It's no secret how the Alchemists feel about us, but at the same time, your group does a lot of good for us. Your efficiency is particularly remarkable. Too bad my own people don't pay more attention to that example."

"How are things with the Moroi?" I asked. "With the queen?" Nathan almost smiled. "Are you saying you don't know?"

I did - at least, I knew what the Alchemists knew. "It's always different hearing an insider's perspective, sir."

He chuckled. It was a harsh sound, like laughing wasn't something Nathan Ivashkov had much practice with. "The situation's better than it was. Not great, though. That girl's smart, I'll give her that." I assumed "that girl" was Vasilisa Dragomir, teenage queen of the Moroi and Rose's best friend. "I'm sure she'd rather be passing dhampir laws and hereditary laws - but she knows those are only going to anger her opponents. So, she's finding ways to compromise on other issues and has won a few of her enemies over to her already." The hereditary laws. Those were of interest to me. There were twelve royal lines among the Moroi, and Vasilisa and Jill were the only two left in theirs. Current Moroi law said a monarch had to have at least one other family member, which was how Jill had become such a political game piece. Even hardcore assassins would have a difficult time taking out a wellguarded queen. Removing her half sister would provide the same results, however, and invalidate Vasilisa's rule. That was why Jill had ended up in hiding.

Nathan's thoughts followed the same lines. "She's also smart to hide that bastard sister of hers." I knew he meant "bastard" in the sense of an illegitimate child, not an insult, but I still winced. "Rumor has it your people know something about that. Don't suppose you'd give me an insider's perspective on it?"

I shook my head and tried to keep my tone friendly. "Sorry, sir. Insight only goes so far." After a few moments of silence, Nathan cleared his throat. "Well, Adrian. What is it you wanted?"

Adrian took a sip of his martini. "Oh, did you just notice I was here? I thought you'd come to see Sydney."

I sank into my chair a little. This was exactly the kind of situation I'd wanted to avoid.

"Why must every question yield some difficult answer with you?" asked Nathan wearily.

"Maybe it's the kinds of questions you ask, Dad."

This pub wasn't going to be big enough to hold the rapidly increasing tension. Every instinct told me to become invisible, but I found myself speaking anyway.

"Adrian's in college," I said. "Taking art classes. He's very talented." Adrian shot me a questioning - but amused - look at that. Some of his pieces were quite good. Others -

especially when he'd been drinking - looked like he'd accidentally spilled paint on canvas.

I'd helpfully told him so on a number of occasions.

Nathan looked unimpressed. "Yes. He's done that before. It didn't last."

"Different time, different place," I said. "Things can change. People can change."

"But often, they don't," declared Nathan. The bartender returned to take our lunch orders, though none of us had even looked at the menus yet. "I'll just order for us all, shall I?" Nathan opened the menu and scanned it quickly. "Bring us a platter of the garlic butter mushrooms, the goat cheese fondue, the bacon-wrapped scallops, and the fried oyster Caesar salad.

Enough for three on the salad, obviously."

The bartender made a couple of quick notes and was gone before I could even say a word.

"Heavy-handed much, Dad?" asked Adrian. "You didn't even ask if we minded you ordering." Nathan looked unconcerned. "I've eaten here before. I know what's good. Trust me, you'll like it."

"Sage won't eat any of that."

This really would be easier, I decided, if they'd both just pretend I didn't exist.

"Why ever not?" asked Nathan, looking at me curiously. "Are you allergic to seafood?"

"She only eats healthy stuff," said Adrian. "Everything you just got is dripping in fat."

"A little butter won't hurt her. You'll both see that I'm right. It's all good. Besides," Nathan added, pausing to sip at his water. "I did order a salad for the table. Lettuce is healthy." I didn't even attempt to point out that no amount of Romaine was going to make up for fried oysters or Caesar dressing. I wouldn't have had a chance to speak up anyway because Adrian was on a roll and - I noticed with some surprise - halfway through his martini.

"You see?" he said in disgust. "That's exactly how you operate. You assume you know best for everyone. You just go ahead and make these decisions, not bothering to consult with anyone, because you're so certain you're right."

"In my vast experience," said Nathan coldly, "I am usually right. When you too possess that kind of experience - when you can actually claim to be an authority on, well, anything -

then you can also be trusted with important decisions."

"This is lunch," Adrian argued back. "Not a life or death decision. All I'm saying is that you could have at least made some effort to include others. Obviously, your 'vast experience'

doesn't apply to normal courtesies."

Nathan glanced over at me. "Have I been anything but courteous to you, Miss Sage?" My chair, much to my dismay, didn't swallow me up or offer to hide me.

Adrian finished his martini in a gulp and held up the glass to catch the bartender's eye.