“The truth is much more interesting,” I say in a low voice.

“Truth takes time,” he warns me. “Someday, when you’ve lived a lifetime, you’ll understand that.”

“And how long will it take you to believe it?”

He flashes me a murderous look, and I duck back toward the crowd, my heart beating fast as my past and present collide.

* * *

The dinner is served in courses. The first is the onion soup I despise. I slurp it loudly, pretending to relish every drop. Cormac ignores me, chatting with the other guests at the table. I pick at my roasted pheasant and finally abandon it.

“When is the wedding?” the wife of one of the ministers asks me from across the table.

I blink at the question. We haven’t set a date, which is fine by me. It gives Cormac more time to milk this distraction and me more time to figure out what he’s hiding from me.

“I’m not sure,” I say in a syrupy voice. “Cormac is preoccupied with other issues at the moment. I wouldn’t dream of distracting him with my silly wedding plans.”

Cormac’s hand lands on my leg and squeezes it tightly. I’m being warned.

“But you must be excited.” The woman folds her hands under her chin, a dreamy look coming over her face.

“I am,” I lie. “I hope it’s soon.”

Cormac leans in toward me. “I wouldn’t dream of making you wait much longer.”

I force a smile onto my face, hoping it looks right. I don’t find his words reassuring.

He stands and raises his champagne flute, waiting for the other tables to quiet. A few people tap their own glasses with forks and soon all eyes are on him. The conversation in the room dies down, but I spot a few people whispering and even a handful of eye rolls.

“Friends,” he addresses them. “I’m honored that you chose to spend the evening with us.”

I’m guessing there wasn’t much of a choice when they got the invitation.

“My beautiful future bride and I are eager to start a new chapter in Arras. Joining the Guild and the Coventry in marriage is rather, shall we say, unprecedented.”

He waits for the few chuckles this elicits before he continues. “Our great nation is changing and even an old bachelor like me can see this. I’ve been married to my work for a long time. Adelice has shown me that our values and priorities must be realigned. The value of the family cannot be understated, and I look forward to finally contributing”—he winks—“to emphasizing the place of the family in Arras. With the help of my lovely future wife, of course.”

I try to cover my face with my napkin. Perhaps it looks like I’m crying, because the woman sitting next to me pats my shoulder.

“So please join me in raising your glass to the beautiful and talented Adelice. The woman who captured my heart so fully I couldn’t let her escape.”

Truer words were never spoken. I lift my glass, but never get a chance to take a sip. A blast rips through the room, knocking me against the table. The crowd erupts in panic and I look to where Cormac stood seconds ago.

He’s gone.

FIFTEEN

SMOKE UNFURLS ACROSS THE BALLROOM AS PEOPLE cough and scramble toward the exits. A woman is knocked down but no one helps her up, each person too concerned with his or her own mortality to notice. I push through the mass, trying to reach her, but the crowd jostles me farther away. I’m pulled out by Alixandra.

“What’s happening?” I ask. I choke on the smoke burning my nostrils and my throat. It leaves the taste of ash on my tongue and my mouth is too dry to swallow against it.

Alixandra shushes me, peeking out the door and into the chaos.

“I can’t see Cormac.” From her it’s a cold, hard fact: no emotion invested, no anger or concern. It’s all a business transaction. She has secured one precious commodity and now must secure the next.

“We should look for him.” I move to step out the door.

“No, my responsibility is to protect you.”

“Fine,” I say, leaning back against the wall, “but at least tell me what I need protecting from.”

“Revolutionaries, obviously. We haven’t had any issues since Cormac dealt with the Eastern Sector, but this is an organized attack.”

“Is it the Agenda?” I try to keep the hope out of my voice. Not only because I don’t want Alixandra to hear it, but because I don’t want to feel it myself.

“Up here? No way.”

“Then there’s a different revolution in Arras?” I say, playing dumb.

“I was told you were present at the severance of the Eastern Sector.” Alixandra eyes me like I’m a small bug she doesn’t know whether to ignore or squash.

“And I was told that was an isolated incident and that the quarantine would prevent it from spreading into the surviving sectors.”

Alixandra snorts. “Don’t believe everything they tell you.”

“So there’s revolution everywhere then?”

“Ask Cormac how many sectors there were when they created Arras.”

“Wait! What?”

But Alixandra goes back to ignoring me. She hikes up her skirt to reveal a holster tightened around her thigh and withdraws a compact gun. Tilting her head, she calls for transport.

“But we don’t have Cormac,” I remind her. I’m not exactly concerned about his safety, but a small part of me worries about the chaos that would follow if he’s assassinated.