My country is a jewel, and I am fucking proud of it.
INFERNO
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN
Upon our return from Paris, Lorcan and I resumed our pretense that our relationship extends no further than princess and knight. Tried to, anyway. Even if Raina has stepped back, it felt wrong to rub it in her face, and the threat of Lorcan being removed from service remained very real if my father thought our feelings ran to the romantic.
After some persuasion, my father grudgingly complimented me upon my gambit at the Louvre. It helped that we made front-page headlines. He and Cata took over direct communication with the winners, the Knauss family. A German technology billionaire and his America or Canadian wife, I couldn’t recall the specifics. We scheduled their visit to Auralia for mid-July, to coincide with the Midsummer Festival—always a wild party in the streets of The Walled City.
Between the high drama of having our hotel window shot out by a sniper, the dresses—Raina’s was as much a fashion hit as mine was; she does have a great eye—and the insane amount of money our auction offering raised at the Louvre, Auralia fever ran hotter than ever.
And yet. None of it resulted in offers of tangible assistance from the international community. Not one country offered even a token shipment of rocket launchers.
My public success also didn’t keep my father from demanding that I narrow down my choice of husbands.
Wait for me.
I ignored him and focused on my schoolwork instead. I told myself I was done trying to prove my worth to a man for whom I’m never good enough. Yet he’s my father, and it still hurt that he refused to consider my wishes.
March bled away in monotonous gray days. Ensconced in the bubble of our dormitory suite, though, I felt like any other harried student rushing toward graduation. It was as close to normal as I could get, under the circumstances.
On top of my classes, I had the added responsibility of participating in ad-hoc conference calls with the top leadership in Auralia—local Councilors, provincial lords, representatives of the three independent tribes. Keeping track of who knew what in which circumstances was dizzyingly complex. The core team is my father, Cata, Saskaya, King Myseci, and now, me. Raina remained an informal member with a specific focus on medicine. If it didn’t involve blood and guts, she didn’t want to know.
The global team is Cata, Lorcan, Kenton, Bashir, and now, me.
My father’s attempt to placate our internal factions by including them as much as possible was politically astute, but dangerous from an intelligence point of view. It fostered trust, but left us vulnerable to leaks.
I’m not sure what I would have done differently, though. To exclude any given group was to court resentment—and the Skía were working hard to foment as much of that as possible.
One thing was certain: if I attempted to assert myself as queen now, I could inadvertently ruin years of careful war planning.
* * *
One night in late March, Cata texted me,are you up for a sleepover tonight?
It was Tuesday.I have class in the morning. I’m swamped with readings and midterms,I texted back.
Were it not for Lorcan’s assistance with my political science and comparative religion classes, I’d be at risk of failing those classes—and thus failing to earn my degree. I won’t have another chance. I’mso closeto this one coveted accomplishment.
You can study here.
Sure.I didn’t need to pack. By now, I know to be prepared for emergencies. All I had to do was throw my laptop, charger and books into my backpack.
Lorcan met me in the living room, bag slung crossways over his torso.
“You headed out?” Kenton asked.
“Need to check something out,” Lorcan said tightly. My stomach sank. Not again. “The princess will stay with Cata for a couple of nights.”
Kenton nodded once. “Bash and I will cover Raina.”
Lorcan’s mouth quirked up. These two might dislike one another, but when it came to us, they were rock-solid allies. “Thanks. Take good care of her.” Then he turned to me and said quietly, “Lock your room and the study.”
I didn’t ask why. I just did it.
Once again, Cata stopped at a seemingly random intersection to let Lorcan out of the car. There was no chance to say goodbye. I turned backward in my seat to stare after him.
“He’ll be all right,” she insisted.