We stayed while Marcus rocked, showing the other kids his horse, letting them take turns trying it out. Nurse Rachel stood beside me, arms crossed, smiling.
“You're going to spoil these kids,” she said softly.
“They deserve to be spoiled.”
“That bodyguard of yours looks like he's about to cry.”
I glanced at Viktor. She was right. His jaw was locked tight, eyes bright, hands flexed at his sides like he didn't know what to do with the emotion coursing through him.
“He's not used to this kind of thing.”
“Good thing you're teaching him then.”
We made six more deliveries. Aiden got his puzzle box and immediately started trying to solve it, fingers flying over the carved surfaces. Sophie got a mobile of wooden birds that caught the light and cast dancing shadows. James got a train set that could be operated from his bed. On and on, each child receiving something made specifically for them.
Each face lighting up. Each small moment of joy pushing back against the weight of illness and fear.
By the time we finished, it was past midnight. The ward had quieted. Kids were sleeping, parents dozing in chairs, machines beeping their steady rhythms.
Viktor and I walked back to the SUV in silence. Rain had started again, cold and relentless. I climbed into the passenger seat, exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with physical effort.
Viktor sat behind the wheel but didn't start the engine. Just stared out the windshield at the rain-streaked glass.
“You okay?” I asked finally.
“I do not know.” His voice was rough. Thick. “I have seen many things in my work. Violence. Death. The worst humans can do to each other.” He turned to look at me. “But I have never seen this. Never seen someone give so much for no reason except it is right thing to do.”
“It's not that noble. I'm just making toys.”
“No.” He shook his head. “You are giving them hope. Dignity. Proof that someone sees them as worth the effort.” His hand reached across the console, stopped just short of touching mine. “You are giving them what they need most. And you ask nothing in return.”
My throat was too tight to speak.
“Emma will keep that chest for rest of her life,” Viktor continued. “Whether she beats cancer or not, she will remember that someone cared enough to make her something beautiful. Marcus will rock on that horse and feel free even when his body limits him. Aiden will solve puzzles and know that being different does not make him less.”He swallowed hard. “You did that. Not because cameras were watching or because it looks good for palace. Because you believe they matter.”
“They do matter.”
“I know.”
“We should go,” I said instead. “Before someone notices we're gone.”
Viktor nodded. Started the engine. Pulled out into empty streets.
13
THE LION AND HIS SHADOW
VIKTOR
Istood beside the armored car, running through my checklist for the third time. Mirror angles perfect. Lock seals intact. Tire pressure optimal. Ballistic integrity of the glass confirmed at level four protection. Every detail memorized, every variable accounted for, every failure point reinforced.
Ritual masquerading as thoroughness.
Truth was, I couldn't shake the feeling crawling up my spine. The one that said today was wrong. That the city was holding its breath.
I'd learned to trust that feeling. It had kept me alive through wars and ambushes and situations where trusting that instinct was the difference between breathing and bleeding out in foreign dirt while your squad moved on without you.
“Mr. Volkov.”
