Chapter 414: 414. Hell Yeah! Discussion Privately That Will Lead To My Blackmail Plan!

"Look, sugar plum..."

"Don’t call me by that nickname in this kind of situation..."

"Sorry... but look..."

"I’m not trying to make excuses," Alexander said, his voice carrying the rough edge of someone who has faced this situation before and is now approaching it a second time with less certainty about the outcome. "I’m trying to explain what’s truly been on my mind, because I believe that if you grasp what I was actually thinking, it will make more sense than the idea that I simply didn’t care about the objective."

"I don’t think you didn’t care about the objective."

"Then what do you think?"

"I think the part of you that cared about the objective was quieter than the part of you that wanted the moment," Elizabeth said. "And I think that’s a problem that is specific to me. To us. I think you make better decisions when I’m not the one watching."

A pause from Alexander.

"That’s not... something I know how to respond to."

"I’m not asking you to respond to it, but... I’m telling you what I’ve observed."

"You’re telling me I’m worse at my job when you’re present."

"I’m observing that your decision-making changes when you’re in a situation where you feel the need to impress me. This has happened before, like during the sparring assessments."

"Those were different situations."

"The pattern was the same."

Alexander’s voice rose slightly as he spoke through the wall, the tone indicating he felt it necessary to clarify his stance. "I will not stand here and let you claim that I am a liability to this team simply because I love you..."

Alexander tried so hard not to cry. "That is an unfair characterization of what transpired today."

"No," Elizabeth said. "No, it’s not a question of footing."

"If it were a question of footing, any of us could have stumbled." Elizabeth crossed her arms. "The specific issue is that the Key was in a position to break due to a decision that prioritized your sense of accomplishment over the security of the object we had spent three days retrieving."

"I wasn’t prioritizing my feelings over the Key."

"You were."

"Elizabeth—"

"You were," she said again, with the flat certainty of someone reading a result rather than making an argument. "You have told me twice tonight why the Key was in your hand in that specific way at that specific moment."

"Both times, the reason has focused on your desires rather than the objective or the group’s needs. It’s about what you wanted."

Alexander went quiet. The quality of the silence outside changed, the specific change that happens when someone has run out of the argument they were making and has not yet found the next one.

"I... love you," Alexander said.

The words were unmistakable as they echoed through the wall. The common room remained unresponsive. Rex continued eating his stew.

"I know that," Elizabeth said, her voice lacking the usual sharpness.

What replaced it wasn’t precisely warmth, but rather an absence of precision, which amounted to the same thing in Elizabeth’s case. "I know you love me, but still..."

"That’s not what’s in question."

"Then what is?"

"What I said," she said. "That the part of you that loves me was louder than the part of you that knows better, and I don’t know what to do with that..."

"I’ve been with you for three years, and I still don’t know what to do with that."

"What do you want me to do?" Alexander said. "Tell me specifically what you want me to do right now, and I will do it!"

"I want the Key to be in one piece."

"I can’t give you that."

"I know... It’s already too late for that."

"Elizabeth."

"I know you can’t give me that," she said. "I’m not asking you to give me that anyway because I already know the truth."

"I’m telling you that the thing I need from tonight is the one thing that you cannot provide, and everything else you can offer me is a substitute for it, and I’m too tired and too angry to accept a substitute gracefully right now."

"Then tell me what to do tomorrow," Alexander said. "If not tonight, tomorrow..."

"I’ll do whatever you need."

"I’m not angry that you made a mistake," Elizabeth said, and her voice had shifted into the register of someone who is trying to explain something they find genuinely difficult to express. "I’m angry that I don’t know how to tell my mother."

"Lady Valentina sent us here with one purpose, and the one purpose is four pieces of compressed dimensional material in my jacket pocket, and I have to stand in front of her and explain that."

"Then I’ll stand there with you," Alexander said. "I’ll explain it myself!"

"I’ll tell her exactly what happened, every decision, and my responsibility from the moment I picked up the Key in that chamber!" Alexander held his chest. "I’m not going to let you take the Key into that room alone."

"That’s not the problem."

"Then help me understand what the issue is," Alexander said. The roughness in his voice carried the weight of someone who has navigated the same circuit multiple times, starting to doubt that another attempt will yield a solution. "Because I’m trying...!"

"I have been standing here for twenty minutes, and I still can’t find a way to fix this for you."

"She’s going to want to know every detail," Elizabeth said. "She’ll ask how it happened, and I’ll tell her you stumbled."

"Then she’ll look at me the way she does when she already knows there’s more to the story and is just waiting for me to find the courage to say it." Her voice cracked slightly at the edges on the last sentence—not dramatically, but enough to be noticeable. "I don’t know what ’more’ is."

"I don’t even know if there is a ’more.’ I just know when I stand there, it will feel like there is."

"The more is that I made a bad decision," Alexander said. "That’s the more... Please just tell her that!"

"Tell her I made a bad decision and the Key broke because of it. That’s accurate, it’s complete, and it’s mine to own. I will look her in the eye and I will own it."

"You don’t know my mother," Elizabeth said. "In fact, you are fortunate that my mother respects your family enough to allow you to engage with me."

"I’ve met Valentina."

"You’ve met her at formal functions," Elizabeth said. "You haven’t been in a room with her when something has gone wrong and you are the person responsible for explaining it."

There was a pause that carried a more profound meaning. "I have..."

"I know what that room is."

Alexander’s response was quieter now. The argument had gone somewhere different from where it started, somewhere that had less to do with the Key and more to do with the look on Elizabeth’s face when she thought about standing in front of her mother.

"I’ll be there," he said. "Whatever the room is, I’ll be in it with you..."

"That’s all I can offer."

"I know," Elizabeth said. "I know you didn’t do it on purpose."

"That’s not the problem," she paused. "The problem is that I still have to go home and tell my mother."

There was a pause between them for a whole minute.

"I’ll think of a good reason, but if I can’t... it seems you’ll need to apologize to Rex, and I’ll have to discuss it with him privately soon," Elizabeth said.

"I... I understand... I should’ve just let Rex keep the key..."

Elizabeth remained silent about that last comment.

The common room was very quiet for the duration of that pause. Durvan had found something to look at on the opposite wall.

Rex ate and said nothing, which was the correct contribution to make.

He gazed into the fire, allowing the calculation to replay in his mind. Elizabeth would soon return, burdened by a specific mix of exhaustion, unresolved frustration, and the ongoing Valentina issue. These factors would create a pressure that demanded resolution.

Meanwhile, Rex would be seated at the table, ready with the information she needed to tackle the most pressing concerns.

’Three days back to Aethelgard,’ Rex thought. ’She’ll have worked out what she needs by then.’

’She’ll approach me herself. She’ll present it as a practical question about the intelligence material, because that’s how she does things, and the framing will be professional, and underneath the professional framing will be a woman who needs a way to stand in front of Valentina without a gap in her account.’ He picked up his cup. ’And I’ll have what she needs.’

’And she’ll know I have it. And we’ll work out the terms from there.’

He almost smiled. He kept it entirely internal, the way he kept most things that were specifically for him.

The argument outside had gone quiet.

Elizabeth came inside about ten minutes later.