A Russian fugitive with power like no other. Though strong, powerful, and wickedly smart, secrets lie deep within her heart, mind, and soul, haunting her to this day. Those very secrets will chase her until they catch up to her. She may have thought...
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𝕿𝖔𝖒'𝖘 𝖕𝖔𝖛
"How has training been coming along?" I question as Malfoy fills his glass with whiskey.
"It's fine," he tells me, and my eyes narrow.
"Fine?" I question.
"There is progress, but there have been a few issues," he elaborates.
"Such as?"
"Rosier is a problem," he starts.
"He shouldn't be," I say, and Malfoy shakes his head. "Druella, not Laurent. She refuses to train. She won't listen to me."
My eyes narrow. "Get her here." She's become more defiant, and I will not tolerate it. She must be reminded of who is in charge of her.
"She's not the only problem," Malfoy interjects.
I raise a brow, waiting for him to continue.
He hesitates and glances at his glass filled with whiskey. He looks at it for a moment before setting it down on the small table next to him and looking at me. "The others are training, but the training isn't doing much. You assigned everyone partners and told them to train, but hardly any progress has been made."
My eyes narrow at the information he gives me. "It is December. It has been months, and you are choosing to tell me this only now. Why have you waited so long?" He should have come to me with these concerns the moment he saw them. He has wasted precious time.
"I wanted to give them time for adjustment. Even I took time to get used to the training. I thought they were just taking longer than I had, but I was wrong. I've come to you now because I know you can help, my lord," he tells me, meaning every word he speaks but still causing me to become irritated.
"You made several misjudgments, Malfoy—misjudgments that have caused time to be wasted—and now, you seek me to fix your mistakes?" I question.
"It is not my intention to have you fix my mistakes, my lord—"
"And yet, that is what you stand here tonight asking of me," I conclude.
He swallows again, and I can see fear creeping up into his eyes, even as he keeps his expression stoic.
I get up from my spot on the leather sofa and walk over to the fireplace near it. My gaze drops to the wood on the ground and the flames causing it to crackle.
Though his severe lack of judgment has caused problems, I find myself more concerned about the problem at hand. Druella won't train to begin with, and the others are trying but not making progress.
I had assumed that if I partnered them up with each other, they would teach the other the things they excelled in, but that appears to have been a misjudgment.
