“If I had to guess,” said Tero, “it’s that the app is working on him like a truth serum. Which is a bit like a lie detector but . . . backward?” He cocked his head.
Well, wasn’t that handy. She knew a few people she’d like to try it on. And certainly easier than neuroeels.
“Best thing that ever happened was that accident,” Shift was saying, his face all red as he glared at the princess. “It’s just too bad you weren’t on the boat that day.”
Persis hadn’t realized her jaw could drop so far.
“I think that’s all we’re going to need,” Isla said. “Any more insults and I’ll demand more than his resignation. I’ll need his head, too.” But beneath her haughty face, Persis could tell the comment had hit more than Isla’s political pride. She still missed her parents and brother immensely.
“Sir,” said Tero, and there was the mocking note that was missing every time he addressed Isla as
“You,” Shift growled as best he could. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. Grasping, uppity little reg. You won’t sleep your way onto the throne, I can promise you that.”
Tero straightened, then looked down at the aristo darkly. “I think the poor man has suffered enough,” he said, and opened his left palm again.
Isla put her hand in his, covering the port before the knockout drug could be released. “Don’t,” she said softly. “I’d like the soon-to-be ex-Councilman Shift to be awake to see me dance with my boyfriend.”
Tero looked at Isla. Isla looked at Tero, a tiny smile on her face.
“You want to dance with me?” he whispered.
“Desperately,” she whispered back, before looping her arm in his and walking out into the crowd.
Persis watched them go, unable to contain her smile. At least one romance on this island would end happily. “Convey my regrets to your nephew, Lord Shift,” she said as the court medic arrived.
Twenty-eight
FOR A GOOD FIFTEEN minutes after the visitors had been introduced, Justen saw no one he knew. The crowd of people seeking to get a glimpse of the visitors had kept him separated from them, and Persis and Isla were nowhere to be found. Then, when he finally did catch a glimpse of the princess, dancing with Tero Finch like it was the most natural thing in the world, he didn’t want to interrupt. Thankfully, he was soon joined by Kai, Elliot, Andromeda, and Ro, who had found respite when the entire court had been distracted by the sight of the princess regent embracing a lowly gengineer.
Ah, Albion. Not as equal as they liked to imagine. But then again, if Isla and Tero were an official item, maybe they were headed places.
The visitors looked understandably overwhelmed. Though Justen was growing used to the typhoon of clothes, flowers, perfumes, and flutters at court, he knew the visitors, with their technologically backward origins, still had a long way to go.
“It’s all I can do to keep watch over Tomorrow,” Andromeda said, hitching up the train of her dress. “You’d think, with everything to look at here, they wouldn’t be so fascinated by one girl.”
“Oh, they aren’t fascinated by one girl,” said Kai, laughing. “You’re just as captivating.”
She stuck her tongue out at her fellow captain. “And you’re lying low?”
“So far,” he replied with a grin, but Justen could see how tightly he held Elliot’s hand.
“I can’t wear things like this. I’m too much of a Luddite,” Elliot said now, dipping her head.
“A Luddite lord,” Kai corrected, “and therefore, the only visiting dignitary on the
She lifted her chin to look at Kai now, and he leaned in, kissing her mouth softly enough not to mar her makeup.
Justen looked away. He’d never thought the foreign aristo—or Luddite lord, as she called herself—was a beautiful girl, but tonight, everything seemed different. Maybe it was because she was wearing Persis’s clothes. Maybe it was the way she and Kai looked at each other. It reminded him of the looks he’d seen Persis’s parents giving each other, the love Persis had claimed in the star cove was an impossible standard to meet.
At the time, Justen had agreed. Who even wanted a love like that? Wouldn’t it distract from everything else you wanted to do with your life? But looking at Kai and Elliot, Justen wondered if, instead, love was what made it possible. Torin and Heloise had defied the customs of their nation and helped bring about great social change in Albion. Kai and Elliot had sailed to a whole new world. He didn’t know much about the intimate aspects of his grandparents’ relationship, but he did know that Darwin Helo had worked tirelessly to help his wife bring the cure to all the people of New Pacifica. If Justen ever found someone like that, would he change his mind?
Of course, that couldn’t happen, not while he was playing games with Persis. Persis, who’d looked so gorgeous tonight he’d almost forgotten the danger hanging over his head. Dreams of grand love and world- changing partnerships aside, it would be nice to get in one dance with his fake girlfriend before the night was over. After all, she’d put so much effort into their matching costumes.
Tomorrow took off through the crowd toward the water organ, and Andromeda followed, still scowling. The rest of them watched the party for a while, Justen keeping his eye out for Persis, Isla, or indeed, anyone who might be able to connect him to the Wild Poppy, and Kai and Elliot looking far more content to stand at the sidelines than brave the crush in the center of the court. The water organ cycled through several songs and servants lit bonfires around the dance floor for fire dancing, but he couldn’t make out anyone he knew. Andromeda and Tomorrow never returned, and Elliot was starting to look overwhelmed again. Justen snagged a few glasses of kiwine from a passing waiter and offered it to the visitors. “This might help.”
Elliot made a face at the pale green liquid, then took a sip and smiled, relieved. “It’s wine.”
“Kiwine.”
“Kiwi . . . wine?” She laughed. “You people have the strangest foods. The strangest everything. I thought the Cloud Fleet clothes were crazy, but this is”—she tugged at her skirt—“this is like something out of an ancient book. Marie Antoinette, maybe?”
“I was always partial to the French Revolution.” Vania swooped in on them, swiping Justen’s glass of wine right out of his hand. “They certainly knew how to deal with their aristos. Good evening, everyone. How do you like my outfit, Justen? Does it meet with your aristocratic fashion taste?”
His eyes dropped from her sly, calculating smile to her clothing. Vania still wore revolutionary black, but tonight she was dressed in a slinky, glittery gown that wouldn’t be out of place on any Albian aristo. Crisscrossed straps webbed up the bodice and down the sleeves, and there was a black cormorant-feathered cape tossed jauntily across her shoulders. The feathers shimmered with iridescence, and Justen realized how much he must have learned from his week with Albion’s most fashionable aristo. Vania had chosen a feathered outfit specifically to ruffle aristo feathers.
“Are you
“Yes,” Vania replied. “I am a revolutionary, unlike some people I know.” She looked at the visitors. “Can I borrow him for just a moment?”
As soon as they were alone—or as alone as they could be in the crowd—Vania turned to him and took a deep breath. “I owe you an apology.”
“You owe me my sister,” he hissed at her.
“Remy is fine,” Vania said with a shrug. “You honestly think I’d do something to her? Come on, Justen. That’s what I wanted to apologize about. I was so angry at you, at the way you’d abandoned us, that I lashed out.
