A black ball of fur leapt onto Rito’s shoulder from the top of a filing cabinet.
Abhijat tensed, his hand going automatically to the gun at his belt. His sister just laughed and caught the meowing creature with both hands, burying her nose into its inky fur.
Milli burst into the large drawing room where a small, private party was underway. She wore a simple yellow dress, her cheeks flushed and hair in disarray.
“Oh, thank goodness,” she said, once her eyes landed on Rito and the cat. “You found her. Don’t let go. She has mischief in her eyes.” She scooped the cat out of Rito’s arms, smiling. “She intends to wreak havoc in here.”
“Don’t annoy the cat, Milli.” Madam Ivanovna walked up behind her daughter, resting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s a party. Eri deserves to have her bit of fun as much as any of us.”
“She would, if her idea of fun didn’t involve scratching our guests.”
“Madam President,” Jehan said, stepping forward to take Ivanovna’s hand between both of his. “So kind of you to invite us to your home. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done.”
“Nothing you wouldn’t have done for me,” Ivanovna countered, her eyes twinkling.
Along with Milli and Eri, she led them further into the house. Inside, a beaming Mr. Sokolov poured Fasih a drink. “To the man who felled a dragon,” he said, his voice booming.
“More like an oversized bat,” Jehan murmured, taking a sip. “I heard many of his top party members have been indicted.”
Sokolov laughed. “Corruption, treason, money-laundering, espionage – you name it, they’ve done it. Not like any of it was a secret, anyway. People just didn’t dare to say it. At least, not until now.”
“Now, they’re shouting it from the rooftops.” Ivanovna sipped her own drink, taking a seat at the head of the table. “Marching on the streets, writing editorials, arguing on TV. The people are angry, and they’re not afraid to show it. Not anymore.”
“So I’m guessing the election next month is just a formality.” Fasih took a seat next to Madam Ivanovna. President Ivanovna. It still tripped Abhijat up to think it, sometimes.
“Pretty much,” Ruqaiya said. She emerged from the kitchen along with Afreen, a wine glass in one hand and a plate of pirozhki in the other. She looked slightly flushed. Abhijat wondered how many glasses she’d had before their arrival.
Ruqaiya pulled out a chair on the other side of Ivanovna. “The deal was sealed when they made Ivanovna the interim president. Everyone knows she’s too popular to be voted out so soon, especially now that most prominent members of the ruling party are in prison. There’re essentially no challengers.”
Mr. Sokolov nodded gravely. “No one with a tenth of her credibility, anyway.”
“Maralana needs a fresh start,” Milli said, passing the refreshments around. “And now that Afreen’s agreed to move here, perhaps we can all start anew. Create a government that actually gives a shit about the people.”
“She has?” Rito asked, massaging Eri behind the ears. Eyebrows raised, Fasih turned to Afreen.
“Oh yes. Yes, that’s true.” Afreen blushed. “I’m so sorry, I haven’t had the opportunity to tell you. Mr. Sokolov is planning to donate some land to Pragati…you know, the nonprofit I work for.”
“Yep. It’s prime land, too. Right at the center of Manganic.” Ruqaiya leaned back in her chair and eyed Mr. Sokolov approvingly.
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He laughed, embarrassed. “It’s the least I could do, after everything.”
“And since you’ve all been so kind to my poor country,” said Ivanovna, smiling at Afreen. “When the time comes, I’ll sanction funds to help Pragati begin operations in Maralana. We can work together to mend some of the things Grigori had broken, during his time in office.”
“Only so long as you don’t plan to strand poor Laihan all alone in Weritlan,” Rito told Afreen, her tone mock-serious.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Afreen said, grinning.
Jehan rose, walking over to the music system and flipping the switch. “Party’s not a party without music.” Returning to the table, he clapped Rito on the back. “Get off your ass and dance.”
“I’m not your pet monkey,” she quipped, before rising to her feet and extending a hand to Milli. Blushing, Milli took her hand and stepped forward. With her free hand, Rito pulled Afreen off her chair.
Soon, the three of them were at the center of the drawing room, giggling and twirling in a bizarre three-way waltz.
Something warm bloomed inside Abhijat’s chest. He closed his eyes, cherishing the moment, etching it into his memory.
Ivanovna’s voice pulled him out of his reverie. She was holding out a bottle, waiting for him to extend his recently emptied glass.
Abhijat held out the glass, embarrassed. As she poured him a drink, her lips quirked into a wistful smile.
“I could never thank you enough, all of you, for everything you’ve done. Without you, I’d have lost everything; my home, my daughter.” Her eyes flicked over to Milli. “Perhaps even my free will.”
“Well, you know…” Fasih shifted uncomfortably in his chair, clearly at a loss for words. Unbidden laughter rose to Abhijat’s lips, forcing him to look away. “What’re neighbors for?”
“Besides,” Ruqaiya interjected, leaning forward. “It wasn’t all neighborly goodwill and the spirit of brotherhood. Some of it was pure self-interest. The former president’s trade policies weren’t exactly what you’d call fair–”
“Predatory, if we’re being nice about it,” Fasih said cheerfully.
Ivanovna nodded. “Yes, I understand your concerns. But I promise you, those days are behind us. I’m looking forward to starting on a fresh note, forging a better and stronger alliance between our countries–”
“And getting rid of our ever-widening trade deficit with Maralana,” Ruqaiya nodded solemnly.
“And that,” Ivanovna laughed. “Lowering tariff rates on Naijani imports will be at the top of my to-do list after the election.”
“Not that working out a mutually beneficial relationship between our countries will be hard at all.” Sokolov remarked, glancing between Ivanovna and Fasih. “What with such capable leaders helming both nations.”
“You’re right,” Jehan nodded, swallowing a mouthful of wine. “Capable leaders, that’s what we need.”
“If by capable you mean lightweight.” Ruqaiya smirked, watching Fasih wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. “Half a glass of the fizzies and you’re already halfway under the table.”
Fasih rolled his eyes. “By capable, I mean Rajat Shian. It’s something about the Shians, you know. They have the–” he snapped his fingers. “Gravitas. Yep. That’s the word I’m looking for. Anyway, they have it. Rajat certainly does. Maganti would never have dared slam him against a wall.”
“Jehan,” Ruqaiya said, her voice soft.
Fasih held up a hand. “My point is, he’s the real prime minister. I’m just a temporary placeholder, I always was.” He smiled brightly at his slack-jawed audience. “Obviously, I’d been misled into thinking that Rajat was corrupt, when it was really Badal and Rinisa pulling the strings in parliament all along.”
“Yes, of course,” Ivanovna said, a hesitant smile on her lips. “We all know that now. Grigori had moles inside the Naijani government–”
“And now he’s gone!” Jehan beamed. “Which is why, it’s time for me to step down as prime minister – rectify past wrongs, unburden my soul…all the good stuff.
“Politics doesn’t suit me, anyway. I’m just a simple academic at heart. Rajat is so much better suited to negotiating tariff cuts and all the other boring policy stuff.”
“And you were just in it for the excitement of getting kidnapped and held at gunpoint, I suppose?” Abhijat shook his head, something unclenching in his chest.
Fasih pressed a hand to his throat. “I knew you’d understand me.”
“Rajat Shian, of course, is a respected leader and a great statesman.” Ivanovna smiled. “I look forward to seeing him again, and hopefully working with him in the future, for the betterment of both our countries.”
“Very diplomatic,” Ruqaiya said, eyeing Fasih with some combination of wariness and admiration. “Now, if I could just have another drink–”
“You can have as many as you want.” Rito held out the half-empty bottle of wine. “But only if I get to invite Milli to Naijan for my birthday next month.”
Ruqaiya frowned. “Your birthday’s the month after the next. On the very last day of the month after the next.”
“Yes, but birthday shopping begins the month before the actual birthday.”
Eri meowed in agreement. Rito patted her on the head.
“The cat agrees.” Fasih chuckled. “It’s a date! Uh, I mean, a state visit.”
Abhijat closed his eyes, letting their voices and laughter sink into his bones. They were all still here – alive, safe, happy...
Victorious.