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It was more crass than Lyon had expected, but that was a small price to pay for the negotiation.
And it was now a negotiation, that much Lyon knew.
“I understand Kira’s value to you,” Lyon said. “As a daughter. As a confidante. She would maintain this same position by my side. Once it’s safe to do so, I’ll make it known that her voice carries weight.”
“She would be your partner then?” Viktor asked.
Lyon held Viktor’s gaze. “In a manner of speaking.”
“What makes you think I would entrust my daughter, the person I hold most dear in the world, to you?”
“Your love for her is the very reason I implore you to do so,” Lyon said. “Otherwise, she’ll be without protection when you’re gone. Would you entrust her safety to one of the other men? To Musa? To Lev?”
Lyon had chosen the two names carefully, in consultation with Ivan, a leader of the Spies who had been a friend of Lyon’s father. Musa and Lev were only two of many lobbying for power behind Viktor’s back, but Ivan had speculated they were the two biggest threats to Viktor, the ones most on his radar.
Lyon agreed.
“Receiving my blessing won’t make you king,” Viktor said.
Lyon didn’t flinch. “Leave that to me.”
Viktor rose to his feet. He suddenly looked old, not like the vital middle-aged man he’d been when Lyon had been a boy, but like the old pakhan, or boss, he was. “I will not trade my daughter like chattel. She must agree.”
Lyon stood. “I understand.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Viktor asked.
“Let’s not talk of such things,” Lyon said. “My father loved you. I know you loved him. I’m confident we can reach an agreement.” He turned to leave, pausing at the door. “I’ve always wondered…?”
Viktor’s bushy eyebrows rose.
“Why did you call me the lion? I was just a boy when you gave me the name.”
“You don’t remember?” Viktor asked. “It was that day on the lawn, when you hit the boy who put his hands on Kira.”
Lyon had a flash of memory: a young Kira, wearing a white dress, her blond hair in a ponytail. Another boy, someone Lyon couldn’t place, shoving her backward onto the lawn. And then, Lyon, rushing the other boy, the impact of their bodies as they went down, the feel of the boy’s face giving way under Lyon’s small fist, Viktor’s heavy hand tousling his hair as he rose to his feet, sweating and filled with rage he couldn’t yet name.
“You were a little animal,” Viktor had said, his voice thick with praise. “A protector who grew into a predator. I saw it, even then.”
Lyon shook his head, wanting to rid himself of the memory, and stepped into the hall.
Now was not the time to linger over the past.
It was time to seize the future.
He started for the front door, the butler nowhere in sight. Piano music drifted through the house: Moonlight Sonata, played by Kira from some unseen room. He remembered that about her: the way she loved to play piano, the way Viktor would coach her to play for guests at the mansion.
The thought of her brought to mind another memory from the day on the lawn: she hadn’t thanked him. In fact, she’d looked at him with disdain, as if he were a bug under her shoe.
As if he hadn’t even been worthy to protect her.
The memory hardened like a stone in his stomach. Kira Baranov had grown into a beautiful woman, but she hadn’t lost the fiery arrogance that caused Lyon to burn with shame when he’d been a boy.
Except he was no longer a boy. He was a man, and soon, he’d be her husband.
Her master.
And she would be tamed.
