“Mods,” Adam said, following her eyeline, “you only see them on the street or the battlefield. They’re illegal for civilians but extremely easy to get.”
Had Ana just uncovered one of Samuel’s many secrets? His eyes gleamed in the darkness in an inhuman way. That had to be a mod.
“Could someone get eyes like a cat?” she asked.
“You mean night vision?” Adam asked. “Sure. Why do you ask?”
She grinned. “Oh, no reason.”
* * *
Ophelia’s aunt’s loft was nothing like the academy. It was far smaller and more organic. The walls were exposed brick, and the floor was cement. A black spiral staircase led to a second-story catwalk and more space. Each of the huge glass windows overlooked the city. Plants grew like a small jungle overlooking the concrete one beyond.
“Thanks again for letting me stay,” Ana said.
“Of course, you know you’re always welcome.” She opened her arms wide and spun in a big circle. “So, what do you think?”
“It looks great.”
“Let’s drop our bags in my room. We’ll be splitting.”
Ana dropped her duffel at the foot of her twin bed.
“So, what’s to do around here?” Ana asked.
“Do you want a tour?” Ophelia asked uncertainly. “My aunt grows lots of rare plants. Her greenhouse is state of the art.”
“Let’s do it.”
23
The Council
Ana lay on the bed, flipping through the tabloids she had purchased on the street. The news glowed in front of her as if she were holding a real shiny magazine. It was all so strange. The projection and the articles themselves.
Fleurs and Arkwrights unveil new world. Planet Circes, a small earthen planet, opens later this year. Vacationers will love its lavish beaches and rich, colorful sunset.
Rockwell military police increase border patrol around the capital. Disappearances continue.
Ana couldn’t get enough. They had been so cut off from media at the academy. She needed to make up for lost time. At this point, she was thinking a movie sounded pretty good.
Meanwhile, Ophelia was getting ready for the winter ball. She would be going with a group of her cousins as was their annual tradition.
Ophelia’s aunt walked up the spiral staircase. She was pale like Ophelia but taller. She wore glasses, which Ana assumed in Bellaton was a fashion choice. If they could mod a woman’s eye to pop out of its socket, they could certainly perform LASIK. The rims of her glasses matched her long, simple black dress. Ana liked her. She was smart and logical. Probably a great scientist.
“How are you girls coming along?” she asked.
Ana closed the tabloid and looked up. She was wearing a pale green silk dress. It was fitted on her petite frame and fell into a small pool of fabric in the back. “Ophelia! You look amazing!” she exclaimed.
“Thanks. Can someone zip me up?”
Her aunt moved forward to help.
As Ophelia pulled on her elbow-length white gloves, she said, “My cousins should be here any minute. When’s Adam due?”
Ana checked the time and sprung out of bed. “Uh-oh.”
Ophelia laughed and helped Ana get into her scarlet ball gown.
She was just putting the finishing touches on her hair when they heard a knock at the door. Ophelia’s aunt checked the notification in the corner of her glasses. “Adam Rockwell is here.”
The door opened for him automatically.
“I’ll be right down,” Ana hollered over the railing.
Adam was dressed in a polished crisp tuxedo and a dark mask with hints of glimmering scarlet delicately interwoven. The black fabric offset his green eyes and her dress. His shoes were black leather wingtips. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers. He handed them to her.
Ana beamed.
Ophelia’s aunt joined them, and Adam bowed.
“Would you like me to put those in a vase for you?” she asked.
Ana nodded.
Adam added, “I trust these flowers will be in good hands with you.”
She smiled. “Yes, plants always seem to do quite well here.” As she walked them to the kitchen, they seemed to brighten. A few buds opened ever so slightly. Talk about a green thumb.
Ana spun in a wide circle, letting her scarlet ball gown flow around her.
* * *
Ana waited at the top of an elegant staircase for her name to be called. When it was, she would descend the stairs, and Adam would be waiting to catch her hand. All of the women visiting court would be called. Ana was about thirty people back.
Madame Bali approached and whispered, “The council wishes to see you.”
Ana felt her stomach drop. “Now?”
“Don’t worry. You’ll do fine.”
Until this moment, the council had seemed unreal. High, untouchable figures of legend. Shrouded in mystery and prestige. And yet, she had been summoned to appear before them.
A few moments ago, she had felt beautiful, special, excited. Ready to twirl around the dance floor with Adam.
Now she felt everything was in jeopardy.
Why did they want to see her? Was it merely proximity or something more? Why now? Were they trying to rattle her? It was working.
The double doors opened, and Madame Bali retreated into the shadows, leaving Ana to step forward on her own. Bali hugged the wall, supporting Ana but not in a position of prominence. The proper spot for an adviser.
Ana wished Samuel were here.
The mythical council sat before her in all their imperfect solidity.
A dark-skinned man rose from the center seat of an arched table. He was dressed like a European monarch with a trailing cloak and golden crown atop his short dark hair. “Welcome, Anabella. I am Master Dubois. Acting chairman of the council.”
There were a few grumbles from other council members.
“A role which I might add rotates.”
“Indeed!” harrumphed another member.
Chairman DuBois began formal introductions, although Ana didn’t need them. She knew each and every face. She had studied them for months. Finally, Madame Bali’s briefings were paying off. Which one of them was the cold-blooded murderer who had picked off her family? Which one was her enemy? Which one had sent gunmen and poison and spy devices?
She took each in turn, nodding politely as they were introduced.
First was General Rockwell, a broad-shouldered man with a handsome dark beard. He was dressed in a crisply pressed military uniform and looked much more sensible than the lavish DuBois. He had Adam’s eyes, green and piercing. They were appraising her right now. She wondered how much Adam had told him. Surely, he knew they were attending the ball together.
Next to him was Lady Jacobs, a wily elder woman with gray hair and the wealthiest member of her family. A brilliant ruby ring shone on her finger. Nearly identical to the one Ana had seen in the diner so many months ago. Hadn’t there been a ruby on the bracelet tracker too? She didn’t have time to linger on the thought.
The introductions continued.
Lady Fleur, a middle-aged woman with vines wrapping her arms and entangling in her hair, where they formed a thorny crown. She was breathtaking and terrifying.
Sir Arkwright, a strong, silent man with a jaw like iron and hair like snowfall.
And finally, Sir Noble, a tall man with slick dark hair pulled into a bun, he flickered in and out.
“Now that we have made our introductions, who might you be?” inquired Chairman DuBois.
Ana was taken a bit aback. If they had summoned her here, then they already knew. She gathered her courage and dipped into a low curtsy. “I am Lady Anabella Halt, heir to the seventh seat and a friend to the council.”
Madame Bali had taught her how to say all of it. She didn’t feel much like a friend to the council. She felt like an ant under a magnifying glass. When would the sun shift her way?
“We shall see about that,” said Lady Fleur w
ith a wicked smile. “I’ll need more convincing than a statement, of course.”
“Well, I must say. She certainly looks the part. She is the mirror image of her mother at this age,” Lady Jacobs interrupted.
“Doppelgängers and lookalikes are plentiful. A DNA match would be far more meaningful,” Lady Fleur continued. She rose from her chair and walked over to Ana with a cotton swab. “The inside of your cheek, dear,” she instructed.
Ana swallowed nervously. They wanted her DNA. Should she let them take it? They might plant it at a crime scene or create a clone. Then again, maybe they already had it. Ms. K certainly did. What would happen if she refused?
“Why bother?” Sir Noble interrupted. “You Fleurs would merely manipulate the results.”
“Why should the council take advice from its most cowardly member? Why it has been more than three moon cycles since you’ve even appeared in the flesh.”
“The flesh can be damaged. Holograms cannot. At least not mine.”
General Rockwell cleared his throat and gave them a hard look. The two stopped bickering. “The test,” he declared, “shall be performed here. Can we all agree to this?”
Chairman DuBois reclaimed control of the room. “All hands in agreement.”
Three hands rose—Chairman DuBois, Lady Fleur, and General Rockwell. Three hands remained down—Sir Arkwright, Lady Jacobs, and Sir Noble.
Chairman DuBois puffed up his chest with a sly smile. “Ah, another tie. As you all know, the chairman breaks the tie in matters such as these, though I should hate to vote against my good friends, the Arkwrights, Jacobses, and Nobles.”
A feeling of goodwill and harmony slammed against Ana like a crashing wave. What wonderful people they all were, especially Chairman DuBois. Why shouldn’t they all get along as friends and allies?
Noble was unmoved. “Stop it, DuBois.”
Sir Arkwright seemed to shake himself, as if out of a daze. “Try it again, and I’ll cut your tongue out, DuBois,” he snarled.
Ana had to fight her instinct to take a step back. Sir Arkwright looked entirely capable of performing the task. In fact, she wondered if he had done so in the past.
DuBois ran a nervous hand over his lips. “I apologize. It is an old habit.”
Ana stepped forward. She had an idea. “As the heir to the seventh seat, I am happy to comply. Please allow me to break this tie and show my goodwill.”
Lady Fleur gave a glittering, sharklike smile. “How wonderful to have some true collaboration in this room.”
Ana took the swab and swirled it on the inside of her cheek. She handed it back to Lady Fleur, who had produced two beakers from her handbag. One contained a purple solvent. The other contained a blue solvent. She dipped the swab into the blue solvent and swirled it around twice. The liquid turned purple.
Ana smiled. A match.
Noble inclined his holographic hand. “Place the beaker in front of me. I will scan for unnatural modifications.”
“You wouldn’t be qualified to read the results,” Lady Fleur huffed.
“Then you may read them yourself. Right here.”
The beaker was passed reluctantly toward Noble. A beam of light shot out of his holographic hand and encompassed the beaker. A string of DNA sequences filled the air, like a programmer’s screen.
Finally, at the bottom, it said: Family Match Confirmed.
Lady Fleur stared at the DNA strings. “Well, well, it seems the Halts have indeed returned.”
She reached her hand out for the beaker, but Ana was faster. She grabbed it from the table. “I believe this is mine.”
Lady Fleur’s eyes flashed with anger.
General Rockwell chortled.
Sir Noble spoke, “This is a good start but hardly conclusive evidence.”
“Indeed,” Sir Arkwright said. “The girl must demonstrate the gift. It is prevalent in her family. If she is indeed a surviving member, she will have it too.”
Lady Fleur nodded. “You make much sense, Sir Arkwright.”
He inclined his head in respect.
“Very well then, girl. Show us your gift.”
Ana shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. No one had prepared her for this. She had no idea how to use the gift. She had never even tried.
“There’s nothing to heal,” Ana pointed out.
Sir Arkwright brandished a dagger. “A problem easily solved. Come here, girl.”
Ana took a step back.
General Rockwell moved between them. “Easy Arkwright. Let’s not put the girl on the spot.”
“Didn’t we outlaw weapons in the council chambers?” Noble asked pointedly.
“It’s ceremonial,” grumbled Arkwright.
Chairman DuBois cleared his throat. “This is getting off topic. How about a deadline?”
“The end of the school year,” Lady Jacobs suggested.
They voted. It passed.
Moments later, Ana paced outside the council chamber. You have until the end of the school year, the voice echoed in her mind. Then, you must show your gift. We’ll be watching. Until the end of the school year before you are marked an impostor and an enemy of the council.
General Rockwell stepped into her path. His voice was clear and commanding. “You handled yourself quite well in there, young lady. Not many your age would.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You have created quite the stir among the high families.”
“Oh?”
“You can’t be surprised. It was my nephew who piloted the ship that brought you here. He said you were under heavy fire when you boarded.”
“Holden did a great job,” she deflected.
“And you were sabotaged during the parade for all to see, despite your…graceful de-escalation.”
Also true, she thought.
“And, of course, I have heard there have been…incidents at the school as well.”
Was he about to confess? Was he behind the attacks? The military general just seemed too obvious a choice.
“Where are you going with this, sir?” she asked.
“Ah, direct. I like that in a person. Let’s cut to the chase then. Ana, you are not safe here. You will never be safe. You will be hunted like a prized boar. Marry my son, Adam. Let me give you the protection of our family name. As a Rockwell, no one would dare raise a hand against you. United, our lines will be more powerful than ever.”
24
An Immodest Proposal
Ana couldn’t believe what she was hearing. If she had been drinking something, she would have spit it halfway across the room. If she had been holding something, she would have dropped it.
“Marry?!” she spluttered. “I’m only sixteen.”
“Well, there would be an engagement first, of course. These things take time. You could marry when you finish school. Perhaps on your nineteenth birthday?”
This was no whim. He had planned this.
“What about Adam? Does he know?”
General Rockwell looked surprised. Like he had never considered his son’s feelings before. “He is a Rockwell. He will do what is best for his family. Political families such as ours have long married for alliance. Besides, it seems you are already fond of one another.”
“This is crazy.”
“Consider my offer, Ana. As a Rockwell, no one would dare lay a finger on you. The might of the entire military would be on your side.”
* * *
Ana stood at the top of the staircase and gripped the cold metal railing tightly. She was third in line now. She took in a deep breath and pinched her side, willing herself not to throw up. Adam had lied to her. How much of it had been a lie? Their first meeting? Their date? Their kiss? The secrets he told her about his family?
Suddenly, this whole thing felt ridiculous. Her poufy ball gown. The mask.
A booming baritone echoed up from below, “Anabella Halt, of the family Halt, sole heir to the Halt family council seat.”
Showtime, Ana thought
. As she stepped into view, the crowd below broke out in gossipy whispers unbefitting the posh crowd. A few ladies even audibly murmured when the announcer added, “Accompanied by Adam Rockwell.”
Ana felt her feet move mechanically forward and tried to lift them to avoid falling down the marble staircase. She was still reeling from her conversation just moments before.
At the bottom of the staircase waiting arm outstretched was Adam. His slim, muscular frame at ease. His eyes on her every move. In his black tuxedo, he was the portrait of a gentleman.
She forced herself to continue down the stairs. This was bigger than Adam. The council was here, and they would be watching. She couldn’t fall apart. She had to press forward.
When she finally reached him, she could feel her body shaking with emotion. She felt betrayed. Adam extended his elbow as she descended the final stair. She looked at it with dread and then quickly looped her arm through his.
Adam led her to the dance floor where they waited for the council to descend. Luckily, having expected a strong reaction from the crowd, Ana had been one of the last called, so her wait was not long. A few more entrances were announced, and then the orchestra began to play.
Adam smiled suavely. “May I have this dance?”
She gritted her teeth and nodded. He wove his fingers through hers, and she felt that familiar electricity between them. The difference was this time she remembered something important—high voltage could kill.
He pulled her close, and they began a formal waltz. As they moved across the floor, Ana was having a hard time keeping up.
“What’s wrong?” Adam asked. “Did you forget the steps?”
“No,” she said, stepping on his foot. Sort of on accident. But mostly on purpose.
He grimaced. “Is it the council? Is it…my dad?”
She ignored his question. “Why did you talk to me on the night of the welcome parade?”
He swallowed. “Because you were beautiful and interesting, and I wanted to meet you.”
She gave him a look that could kill. “No one told you I would be there or that you should talk to me?”
Seven Crowns (Bellaton Book 1) Page 18