For the first time, Lucas’s dry smile disappears completely. “It wears on you,” he admits, more to himself than to me. “Men are not meant to be at war for long.”
“And what about Reds?” I hear myself ask. Bree, Tramy, Shade, Dad, Kilorn’s father. And a thousand others. A million others. “Can they stand war better than Silvers?”
We reach the door to the training hall before Lucas finally answers, looking a little uncomfortable. “That’s the way the world works. Reds serve, Reds work, Reds fight. It’s what they’re good at. It’s what they’re meant to do.” I have to bite my tongue to keep myself from shouting at him. “Not everyone is special.”
Anger boils in me, but I don’t say a word against Lucas. Losing my temper, even with him, won’t be smiled upon. “I can take it from here,” I say stiffly.
He notes my discomfort, frowning a little. When he speaks, his voice is low and fast, as if he doesn’t want to be overheard. “I don’t have the luxury of questions,” he mutters. His black eyes bore into mine, full of meaning. “And neither do you.”
My heart clenches, terrified by his words and their veiled meaning. Lucas knows there’s more to me than what he’s been told. “Lucas—”
“It’s not my place to ask questions.” He furrows his brow, trying to make me understand, trying to put me at ease. “Lady Titanos.” The title sounds firmer than ever, becoming my shield as well as the queen’s weapon.
Lucas will not ask questions. Despite his black eyes, his Silver blood, his Samos family, he will not pull at the thread that could unravel my existence.
“Keep to your schedule, my lady.” He pulls back, more formal than I’ve ever seen him. With a flick of his head, he gestures to the door where a Red attendant waits. “I’ll collect you after Training.”
“Thank you, Lucas,” is all I can manage. He’s given me so much more than he knows.
The attendant hands me a stretchy black suit with purple and silver stripes. He points me to a tiny room, where I change quickly, slipping out of my usual clothes and into the jumpsuit. It reminds me of my old clothes, the ones I used back in the Stilts. Worn by time and movement, but trim and tight enough not to slow me down.
When I enter the training hall, I’m painfully aware of everyone staring at me, not to mention the dozens of cameras. The floor feels soft and springy beneath my feet, cushioning each step. An immense skylight rises above us, showing a blue summer sky full of clouds to taunt me. Winding stairs connect the several levels cut into the walls, each at varying heights with different equipment. There are many windows as well, one of which I know opens to Lady Blonos’s classroom. Where the others go or who might be watching from them, I have no idea.
I should be nervous about walking into a room full of teen warriors, all of them better trained than me. Instead, I’m thinking about the insufferable icicle of bone and metal known as Evangeline Samos. I barely make it halfway across the floor before her mouth opens, dripping venom.
“Graduated from Protocol already? Did you finally master the art of sitting with your legs crossed?” she sneers, jumping up from a weight-lifting machine. Her silver hair is tied back into a complicated braid I’d very much like to cut off, but the deathly sharp metal blades at her waist give me pause. Like me, like everyone else, she wears a jumpsuit emblazoned with the colors of her house. In black and silver, she looks deadly.
Sonya and Elane flank her with matching smirks. Now that they’re not intimidating me, they seem to be sucking up to the future queen herself.
I do my best to ignore them all and find myself looking for Maven. He sits in a corner, separated from the others. At least we can be alone together. Whispers follow me, as more than a dozen noble teenagers watch me walk toward him. A few bow their heads, trying to be courteous, but most look cautious. The girls are especially on edge; after all, I did take one of their princes away.
“Took you long enough.” Maven chuckles once I sit down next to him. He doesn’t seem to be part of the crowd, nor does he want to be. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to stay away from us.”
“Just one person in particular,” I reply, casting a glance back to Evangeline. She holds court near the target wall, where she shows off for her cronies in a dazzling display. Her metal knives sing through the air, digging into the dead center of their targets.
Maven watches me watch her, his eyes thoughtful. “When we go back to the capital, you won’t have to see her so much,” he murmurs. “She and Cal will have their hands full touring the country, fulfilling their duties. And we’ll have ours.”