Tatiana's POV
The most painful day of my life, I soon discovered, was the day we parted.
It wasn't hard to plan — that much I could say — but it was extremely terrible to actually leave him. I think there was a little exaggeration in how much it hurt… or maybe not. I had grown genuinely fond of him simply because we had been together almost every moment for months. The thought of him out there alone made my chest tighten. I hoped he was safe and that our plan was working out well.
I had an Asian disguise I didn't really like — the straight black hair, the different makeup, the accent I had to practice in the mirror — but I knew how to manage. It was just one of my identities now.
Dear friend,
It's taking forever to finally meet again, but I hope your cover is still intact. I'm seeing real progress here in Britain, and I hope it's the same for you. It may come as a surprise, but your absence greatly disturbs me. Britain has nice weather, unlike the heat of Greece, but nevertheless… I hope you're enjoying it.
I had written a million letters like that one, pouring my heart onto paper night after night. But they never seemed to put me to rest or bring me any peace. I kept them hidden in a small box under my bed, never sending a single one.
Seven whole months had passed, and I was getting restless and impatient. Every day blurred into the next — pretending, spying, waiting. I had to remember my training: stay calm at all times so you can always turn the tides. I took a deep breath, pushed the worry down, and decided to go to bed early.
But the moment I closed my eyes, a blinding light flashed behind my eyelids. I quickly covered them with my hands. A urgent voice echoed in the dream: "Run and don't stop. They're coming. Your story may end here."
I jolted awake, heart hammering against my ribs. I needed to contact Derek — and I had to do it fast. I dialed our emergency line with shaking fingers. He picked up faster than we had agreed.
Something was wrong.
"Hi, I have news," I whispered urgently. "Something fishy is going on. I had a dream—"
I heard someone scoff in the background. In that moment, my worst fears were confirmed.
"Let's keep going," Derek's voice came through, steady but strained. "It's just a silly dream. Just stay alert. Everything will work out."
I sighed heavily and cut the call. My cover had been blown. There was no time to waste. I rushed around the small apartment, packing only the essentials, grabbed my passport, and headed straight to the airport. I got on the first plane to Greece and arrived approximately eight hours later, my stomach in knots the entire flight.
The palace was only a short drive from the airport. I got there before I knew it. The place was eerily quiet — far too quiet — which I must say was quite weird, but that wasn't my focus just yet. I quickly rushed to the workers' quarters and made my way to the gardener's apartment.
I stopped dead in my tracks and broke down in tears.
The door was ajar. Dark blood trails led across the floor to somewhere I couldn't bear to imagine.
Memories flashed through my mind — our training days, the explosion, the way he had looked at me before we split up. In that moment, I knew I had to act, or else everything we had worked for would be in vain. I entered the room and searched frantically for any clues, but there were none. My mind raced. If he had been discovered… the only place they would take him was the dungeon.
I rushed there, thinking of nothing else but his handsome face, which could have been beaten to a pulp by now. I even giggled at the ridiculous thought for a split second, but I kept moving. Those responsible would pay — not with their lives, but with their dignity!
My prayers were hurried: he mustn't be dead. The metallic scent of blood hit my nose as I descended the cold stone stairs. It felt sickeningly nostalgic, but I kept my cool. A faint, weak sound came from the cell nearby. I looked in and lo and behold — there he was, breathing shakily, his blood pooled around him like dark sweat.
I was horrified. I picked the lock with trembling hands and rushed inside.
"If you think I'll tell you something, then you are dreaming," he rasped, voice weak.
A sob escaped my lips. He looked up, and shock was evident on his bruised face.
"What happened to you? Can you stand?" I asked, reaching out to touch him. He winced in pain.
I was more than livid — not because he was hurt, but because his pain hurt me so much. The thought pressed down on my nerves like a vice. I couldn't lose him. Not now. Not after everything.