Page 43 of Dark King Daddy

Not physically, perhaps. He still carried himself with the same controlled certainty. His dark hair was neat. His face was composed. His ice-blue eyes passed over the room once, assessing doors, people, distances.

But the space around him had changed.

At Volna, he had stood beside the throne. Now he occupied it.

Arkady came behind him. He looked more dangerous than usual, which I would not have thought possible. His grief had sharpened every line in his face. Nikita followed, his expression quiet and closed.

Their younger brother, Kiryl, walked beside Yelena. He wore a black coat that seemed slightly too formal for him. His face was pale.

Yelena looked striking even in mourning. Dark honey hair. Pale eyes. Black wool. No diamonds. No trace of the gilded daughter Lev once displayed.

Her husband, Salvtore, walked beside her.

He did not touch her as they entered. He stayed close enough that he could.

Daniil stopped just inside the church.

For one tense second, the room held two families who had lost their Pakhans in the same locked room.

Every person in St. Seraphim watched what happened next.

Anton released my hand. He left the receiving line.

A murmur passed through the rear of the church.

My brother crossed the floor toward Daniil.

Daniil waited.

They faced each other beneath the icons, two new Pakhans wearing black for fathers who had died before either son had been ready.

Anton offered his hand. Daniil took it. Then Anton drew him closer and embraced him.

Briefly. Hard. Publicly.

No one in that church could mistake the meaning.

The alliance held.

Daniil said something I could not hear. Anton answered. Then my brother turned and placed one hand against Daniil’s upper arm, guiding him toward the front.

Not to the ordinary rows.

To the principal mourners.

The Sokolovs followed.

Arkady’s gaze moved through the room. Men stepped out of his way without being asked. Nikita acknowledged several familiar faces with small inclinations of his head. Kiryl stared at the coffin.

When he reached me, Daniil stopped.

“Ksenia.”

He said my name quietly.

“Daniil.”

His eyes moved over my face.