“Thank you, Belicos,” Maven says, holding out his hand for him to shake, trying to draw the Lerolans away before I break.
I try to speak, but I can only think about the father I’m about to steal from such young children. In the back of my mind, I remember Kilorn crying after his father died. He was young too.
“Excuse us a minute, wouldn’t you?” Maven’s voice sounds far away as he speaks. “Mareena’s still getting used to the excitement of court.”
Before I can glance back at the doomed father, Maven hurries me away. A few people gawk at us, and I can feel Cal’s eyes following us out. I almost stumble, but Maven keeps me upright as he pushes me out onto a balcony. Normally the fresh air would cheer me up, but I doubt anything can help now.
“Children.” The words rip out of me. “He’s a father.”
Maven lets me go, and I slump against the balcony rail, but he doesn’t step away. In the moonlight his eyes look like ice, glowing and glaring into me. He puts one hand on either side of my shoulders, trapping me in, forcing me to listen.
“Reynald is a father, too. The Colonel has children of her own. Ptolemus is now engaged to the Haven girl. They all have people; they all have someone who will mourn them.” He forces out the words; he’s just as torn as I. “We can’t pick and choose how to help the cause, Mare. We must do what we can, whatever the cost.”
“I can’t do this to them.”
“You think I want to do this?” he breathes, his face inches from mine. “I know them all, and it hurts me to betray them, but it must be done. Think what their lives will buy, what their deaths will accomplish. How many of your people could be saved? I thought you understood this!”
He stops himself, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. When he collects himself, he raises a hand to my face, tracing the outline of my cheek with shaking fingers. “I’m sorry, I just—” His voice falters. “You might not be able to see where tonight will lead, but I can. And I know this will change things.”
“I believe you,” I whisper, reaching up to hold his hand in my own. “I just wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
Over his shoulder, back in the ballroom, the receiving line dwindles. The handshakes and pleasantries are over. The night has truly begun.
“But it does, Mare. I promise you, this is what we must do.”
As much as it hurts, as much as my heart twists and bleeds, I nod. “Okay.”
“You two all right out here?”
For a second, Cal’s voice sounds strange and high, but he clears his throat as he pokes out onto the balcony. His eyes linger on my face. “You ready for this, Mare?”
Maven answers for me. “She’s ready.”
Together, we walk away from the railing and the night and the last bit of quiet we might ever have. As we pass through the archway, I feel the ghost of a touch on my arm: Cal. I look back to see him still staring, fingers outstretched. His eyes are darker than ever, boiling with some emotion I can’t place. But before he can speak, Evangeline appears at his side. When he takes her by the hand, I have to tear my eyes away.
Maven leads us to the cleared spot in the center of the ballroom. “This is the hard part,” he says, trying to calm me.
It works a little bit, and the shivers running through me ebb away.
We dance first, the two princes and their brides, in front of everyone. Another display of strength and power, showing off the two girls who won in front of all the families who lost. Right now it’s the last thing I want to do, but it’s for the cause. As the electronic music I hate clatters to life, I realize it’s at least a dance I recognize.
Maven looks shocked when my feet move into place. “You’ve been practicing?”
With your brother. “A bit.”
“You’re just full of surprises.” He chuckles, finding the will to smile.
Next to us, Cal twirls Evangeline into place. They look like a king and queen should, regal and cold and beautiful. When Cal’s eyes meet mine at the exact moment his hands close around her fingers, I feel a thousand things at once, none of them pleasant. But instead of wallowing, I move closer to Maven. He glances down at me, blue eyes wide, as the music takes hold. A few feet away, Cal takes his steps, leading Evangeline in the same dance he taught me. She’s much better at it, all grace and sharp beauty. Again I feel like falling.
We spin across the floor in time with the music, surrounded by cold onlookers. I recognize the faces now. I know the houses, the colors, the abilities, the histories. Who to fear, who to pity. They watch us with hungry eyes, and I know why. They think we’re the future, Cal and Maven and Evangeline and even me. They think they’re watching a king and queen, a prince and princess. But that’s a future I don’t intend to let happen.
In my perfect world, Maven won’t have to hide his heart and I won’t have to hide who I truly am. Cal will have no crown to wear, no throne to protect. These people will have no more walls to hide behind.
The dawn is coming for you all.
We dance through two more songs, and other couples join us on the floor. The swirl of color blocks out any glimpse of Cal and Evangeline, until it feels like Maven and I are spinning alone. For a moment, Cal’s face floats in front of me, replacing his brother’s, and I think I’m back in the room full of moonlight.
But Maven is not Cal, no matter how much his father might want him to be. He isn’t a soldier, he won’t be a king, but he’s braver. And he’s willing to do what’s right.
“Thank you, Maven,” I whisper, barely audible over the horrible music.
He doesn’t have to ask what I’m talking about. “You don’t ever have to thank me.” His voice is strangely deep, almost breaking as his eyes darken. “Not for anything.”
This is the closest I’ve ever been to him, my nose inches away from his neck. I can feel his heart beat beneath my hands, hammering in time with my own. Maven is his mother’s son, Julian said once. He couldn’t be more wrong.
Maven maneuvers us to the edge of the dance floor, now crowded with swirling lords and ladies. No one will notice we’ve stepped away.
“Some refreshments?” a servant murmurs, holding out a tray of the fizzy golden drink. I start to wave him off before I recognize his bottle-green eyes.
I have to bite my tongue to keep from shouting his name aloud. Kilorn.
Strangely, the red uniform suits him and for once he managed to clean the dirt off his face. It seems the fisher boy I knew is entirely gone.
“This thing itches,” he grumbles under his breath. Maybe not entirely.
“Well, you won’t be in it much longer,” Maven says. “Is everything in place?”
Kilorn nods, his eyes darting through the crowd. “They’re ready upstairs.”
Above us, Sentinels crowd a wraparound landing, lining the walls. But above them, in the carved window alcoves and little balconies near the ceiling, the shadows are not Sentinels at all.
“You just have to give the signal.” He holds out the tray and the innocent glass of gold.
Maven straightens next to me, his shoulder against mine in support. “Mare?”
My turn now. “I’m ready,” I murmur, remembering the plan Maven whispered to me a few nights ago. Shivering, I let the familiar buzz of electricity flow through me, until I can feel every light and camera blaze through my head. I lift the glass, and drink deeply.
Kilorn is quick to take the glass back. “One minute.” His voice sounds so final.
He disappears with a swish of his tray, moving through the crowd until I can’t see him anymore. Run, I pray, hoping he’s fast enough. Maven goes as well, leaving me to carry out his own task at his mother’s side.