“What about everyone else?” Tramy asks. He narrows his eyes as he perches on the arm of Bree’s chair. “We’re not the only ones evacuated here.”

He catches an elbow in the side and doubles over as Bree snickers. “Thinking about that clerk? What’s-her-name, with the curly hair.”

“No,” Tramy grumbles back, his golden cheeks flaming beneath his beard. Bree tries to poke at his flushed face but gets swatted away. My brothers have a terrific talent for acting like children. It used to annoy me, but not anymore. The normalcy of them is soothing.

“It will take time.” I can only shrug. “But for us . . .”

Gisa scoffs aloud. She tosses back her head, exasperated. “For you, Mare. We’re not silly enough to think the leader of the Republic wants to do us a favor. What does he get in return?” With nimble fingers, she grabs my hand, tightening her grip. “What does he get from you?”

“Davidson isn’t Silver,” I say. “What he wants, I’m willing to give.”

“And when do you get to stop giving things?” she snaps back. “When you die? When you end up like Shade?”

The name drops a hush over the room. At the door, Farley turns her face, hiding in shadow.

I stare at Gisa, searching my sister’s pretty face. She’s fifteen now, settling into herself. Her face used to be rounder, her freckles less numerous. And she didn’t have the cares she has now. Just the usual worries. It used to be little Gisa we relied on. Her skill, her talent. Her ability to save our family. Not anymore. She doesn’t begrudge the loss of that weight. But her concern is clear. She doesn’t want it on my shoulders either.

Too late.

“Gisa,” Mom says, her voice a low warning.

I recover as best I can, pulling my hand away. My spine turns to steel. “We need to request more troops, and Premier Davidson’s government has to approve before they can be sent. I’ll help present our coalition, show them who we all are. Make a convincing argument for the war against Norta and the Lakelands.”

My sister is unconvinced. “I know you’re good at arguing, but you aren’t that good.”

“No, but I’m the crossroads,” I say, dancing around the truth of it. “Between the Scarlet Guard, the Silver courts, the newbloods, and Reds too.” I’m not lying, at least. “And I’ve had enough practice putting on a good show.”

Farley balances her baby in one arm, putting her other hand on her hip. She drums a finger against the holster of the pistol glued to her side. “Mare’s trying to say she’s a good distraction. Where she goes, Cal follows. Even now, when he’s trying to win back his throne. He’s coming with us to Montfort, and so is his new betrothed.”

Behind me, I hear Kilorn suck in a hissing breath.

Gisa is just as disgusted. “Only they would stop to arrange marriages in the middle of a war.”

“For another alliance, right?” Kilorn sneers. “Maven did it already. Locked up the Lakelands. Cal needs to do the same. So who is it? Some girl from Piedmont? Really cement what we’re doing down here?”

“It doesn’t matter who she is.” My fist clenches in my lap as I realize that I’m lucky it’s Evangeline. A girl who wants nothing to do with him. Another chink in his flaming armor.

“And you’re just going to let this happen?” Kilorn paces out from behind the sofa, his long limbs making even strides. He glares between Farley and me. “No, excuse me, you’re going to help? Help Cal fight for a crown no one should have? After everything we’ve done?” He’s so upset, I almost expect him to spit on the floor. I keep my face still, impassive, letting him fume. I can’t remember him ever being so disappointed in me. Angry, yes, but not like this. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he waits for my explanation.

Farley does it for me. “Montfort and the Scarlet Guard won’t fight two wars,” she says evenly, emphasizing the words. Conveying a message. “We have to take on our enemies one at a time. Do you understand?”

My family seems to tighten in unison, their eyes going dark. Dad especially. He runs a thumb along his jaw, thoughtful, as his lips press into a thin line. Kilorn is less subdued. Green fire sparks behind his eyes. “Oh,” he murmurs, almost smiling. “I see.”

Bree blinks. “Uh, I don’t?”

“No one is surprised,” Tramy mutters under his breath.

I lean forward, eager to make them all understand. “We aren’t going to give the throne to another Silver king. At least not for long. The Calore brothers are at war, spending their forces fighting each other. When the dust settles . . .”

Dad drops his hand on his knee. I don’t miss the tremble in his fingers. I feel it in mine too. “It will be easier to deal with the victor.”

“No more kings,” Farley breathes. “No more kingdoms.”

I have no idea what that world could look like. But I might soon, if Montfort is everything I’ve been promised.

If only I still believed in promises.

We don’t bother trying to sneak out. Mom and Dad snore like trains, and my siblings know better than to stop me. The rain hasn’t let up, but Kilorn and I don’t mind. We walk down the row-house street without speaking, the only noise coming from our feet squelching through puddles as the storm rumbles in the distance. I can barely feel it anymore, as the lightning and thunder spiral away toward the coast. It isn’t that cold, and the well-illuminated base keeps out the darkness. We don’t have any real destination. No direction but forward.

“He’s a coward,” Kilorn mumbles. He kicks at a loose pebble. It skitters away, spreading ripples across the wet street.

“You said that already,” I reply. “Along with a few other things.”

“Well, I meant it.”

“He deserves every word.”

Silence drags over us like a heavy curtain. We both know this is strange territory. My romantic entanglements aren’t exactly his favorite subject, and I don’t want to inflict any more pain than I already have on my closest friend.

“We don’t have to talk—”

He cuts me off, putting a hand on my arm. His touch is firm but friendly. The lines between us are clearly drawn, and Kilorn values me enough to never cross them. He might not even feel the same as he did before. I’ve changed so much in the last few months. It’s possible the girl he thought he loved is gone. I know what that’s like too, to love someone who doesn’t really exist.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I know what he means to you.”

“Meant,” I growl, trying to push past him.

But his grip tightens. “No, I didn’t make a mistake. He still means something to you, even if you won’t admit that.”

It isn’t worth the argument. “Fine. I admit it,” I force through clenched teeth. It’s dark enough that he might not notice my face turning scarlet. “I asked the premier,” I mumble. Kilorn will understand. He has to understand. “I asked to keep him alive. When the time comes, when we turn. Is that weakness?”

Kilorn’s face falls. The harsh streetlights illuminate him from behind, giving him a halo. He’s a handsome boy, if he isn’t already considered a man. If only my heart fell to him instead of someone else.

“I don’t think so,” he says. “Love can be exploited, I guess, used to manipulate. It’s leverage. But I would never call loving someone else a weakness. I think living without love at all, any kind of love, is weakness. And the worst kind of darkness.”