What woke me was the dread of a closing door.
Each morning it would end the same. First, the clay dishes would clink into the metal sink. Then Father’s plastic chair would scrape the stone floor. They would stand together at the door, whispering. A silence. I always imagined it was the moment they shared a long kiss. Then at last, it’d be the goodbye. The front door opened, creaking on rusted hinges. And finally, despite all my prayers, it’d close.
I lean close to Mustang and kiss her forehead. Harder than I meant to. She wakes delicately, like a cat stretching itself out of a summer nap. Her eyes don’t open, but she nuzzles into my side.
“You’re awake,” she murmurs. Her lashes flutter and she bolts upright, away from me. “Sorry. Must have fallen asleep.” She looks to the chair she’d been sitting in. “On the bed.”
“It’s fine. Stay. Please.” I’d forgotten we’re supposed to be cold to one another. “How long has it been?”
“Since the assault? A week.” She brushes loose strands of hair from her eyes. “I’m glad you’ve come back to us.”
“Who did we lose?” I ask carefully.
“Lose?” Her hands fidget awkwardly as she lists the casualties. A moment of silence stretches long. The numbers crushing me in my bed. I remember to breathe.
“Your father?” I ask.
“You don’t know?” She smiles awkwardly and sighs a bit too casually, trying to loosen her own tension. She scoots closer on the bed, still taking care not to touch me. “It’s going to be tedious catching you up.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage.”
“Father is alive. When the shields fell, several Golds already inside the Citadel led a lurcher squad to rescue him. Turns out my brother has a long reach. So when the Olympic Knights came to take him with Octavia, they left empty-handed.
“The HC channels are calling Roque ‘Nelson reincarnate.’ He captured more than eighty percent of the Bellona fleet.” Her tone darkens. “Which means, as leader of the engagement, he has claim to at least thirty percent of the ships, the rest going to the House Augustus.”
“Meaning he has more than I do, technically.”
“The pundits are wondering how long his loyalty will last now that …”
“The Jackal is playing his games,” I interrupt with a laugh.
“He never stops. “
“I don’t think Roque will take up arms against me,” I say. “Do you?”
She shrugs. “Power creates opportunities. I told you to mend things with him.”
“Roque is our ally. He always will be. You know him.”
“He’s been here as much as Sevro.” She smiles slowly. “Fell asleep here last night. I shooed him away earlier. But I wouldn’t be doing my job if I pretended he wasn’t a potential threat to us.”
Us, I note.
“Your job?” I ask. “Which is …?”
“I’ve appointed myself your chief Politico.”
“Have you now?”
“I have. The game of court can be a nasty, duplicitous business. You’re much too earnest for it. Like a lamb thinking it an honor to be invited to a banquet thrown in its honor by wolves.”
“And what if it’s you I need to be protected from?”
“Well.” She arches her left eyebrow. “Then I suppose you’ve already lost.”
I laugh and ask about Sevro.
She pretends to look around. “He’s not asleep at the foot of the bed? I think he’s off with his father. I only returned from visiting Kavax in orbit last night, but Theodora says Sevro departed shortly after dinner with Fitchner. Thought he hated the man.”
“He does.”
“What’s changed?”
I shrug and wonder how long Sevro has known about his father’s true identity. Seems impossible he was as blind as I. Was someone lying to me for a change?
“And Lorn?” I ask.
“He’s with that harpy, Victra.”
“What’s wrong with Victra?”
“Aside from the fact that she flirts with everything that moves? Nothing.”
“Wait. She flirts with you? Tell me more about that.”
“Shut it.” Mustang swats at me. But her smile falls just as quick and she pulls her hand back. “Lorn’s taken Victra under his wing. Seems he’s comfortable allying his family with the Julii. Victra’s mother has agreed to the pact. Three of the most powerful houses on Mars united under my family. A triumvirate against the Sovereign. The Governors of the Gas Giants are on their way to Agea for a summit. So too are the Reformers. You were right. We take Mars, we have a chance against Octavia. This isn’t just a battle any longer. It’s a civil war. And not a pointless one, it seems. Father is making talk of giving the Reformers a chance at the table. That … this means something.”
I remember my conversation with the man. “And you believe him?”
“I do, Darrow.” She smiles hopefully. “For the first time in a long time, I really do.”
I am not so sure. “What about …”
“Cassius?” she guesses quietly. “His father was killed by the Telemanuses, and he fought Ragnar on the wall. All his brothers and sisters are reported dead. But he and his mother are missing.”
I note her quiet. “Are you worried he’s dead?”
“He is our enemy,” she says flatly. “His welfare isn’t my concern.” She examines my eyes closely. “Are you worried?”
“I don’t know.” I consider.
“Goryhell. You’re so tender sometimes. Do you regret cutting off his arm, too?”
“I regret killing Julian.”
“We’re all stained by the past.” Mustang considers. “You forget I had to kill someone in the Passage too. Every Peerless Scarred you’ve ever met—Lorn, Sevro, Pebble, Tactus, Octavia, Daxo, we all started there. Often I think there’s too much to regret.”
Is she talking about us? Am I a regret?
“I want to hate Cassius,” I say slowly. “I really do. Even thinking of him makes me want to crush something. Break a window. Or, preferably, his ugly smug face.”
“Ugly?” she asks skeptically.
“So pretty he’s ugly.”