“And so what was it that brought a young lady like yourself across the ocean to the City of Sin?”
“My mother—the person who raised me, that is, not my birth mother—hadn’t returned from a vacation here. I simply wanted to make sure she was all right. I found out shortly afterward that she had passed away.” Enne’s lip trembled a bit, which was not a show, but she made sure to reach for Levi’s hand as though seeking his support. If Levi was surprised, he didn’t betray it to the cameras. “I’ve been quite a bit lost since then.”
Owain raised his eyebrows. “Is that how you ended up assassinating the Chancellor? You got ‘lost’?”
Enne’s hope wilted like a flower. She and Grace had practiced for this, but even then, Grace’s words had not been so harsh.
“I’m sure you’re familiar with how the Augustine talent works, sir,” Enne said as meekly as she could manage. “She was a known monarchist, and she ordered me to...” Enne shuddered and squeezed Levi’s hand tighter. “I can’t bear to think about it, honestly.”
“Hmm,” Owain said, his lips a thin line. As someone present in the Shadow Game, Owain knew better, but his associates certainly didn’t. The makeup artist, hovering behind the cameramen, let out a low, pitying sigh. Maybe Enne’s show was working, after all.
“If it were not for Levi, I don’t know how I would have gotten through the past few months, fulfilling all of Vianca’s orders as Séance, that despicable character she fashioned for me.” Enne scooted another few inches closer to Levi.
Levi cast her a sharp look.What are you doing?His warning gaze seemed to ask, but Enne ignored him.
“What exactly is your relationship to Mr. Glaisyer?” asked the reporter standing next to Owain, a younger man wearing a dapper burgundy suit and clearly eager for a story.
Enne let out a girlish giggle. “Why, I thought that must have been obvious.”
She threw her arms around Levi’s shoulders, his yelp of surprise muffled as Enne pressed her lips against his.
It was an awkward kiss—Enne leaning so far across the love seat, the embarrassment or fury or mixture of both making Levi’s skin hot to the touch, the blinding bursts of the cameras. But Enne made sure to prolong it, made sure the photographers had their shot for tomorrow’s front page. Her hand not already grasped in Levi’s played with the corners of his cravat. She felt Levi grunt in displeasure against her mouth, but she kissed that away, too. No matter how much they might’ve loathed each other, this kiss was going to save them.
Except she didn’t loathe him. It had been so long since she’d breathed in the familiar scent of him—like amber and smoke—that she felt desperate for it. Her heart leaped in potent, undeniable want, making her squeeze his necktie a little too desperately, making her interlace his fingers with hers...
Until she realized his touch wasn’t simply warm from a flush—itburned. He’d used his talent to jolt her off, and she sprung back from the twinge of pain. Ignoring the anger simmering in his gaze, Enne quickly flashed a sheepish grin to the crew at their lovestruck display.
“We’re courting!” she announced giddily, as though her life were truly a Sadie Knightley novel. She hoped it was. The protagonists always survived at the end.
“A Mizer and an orb-maker?” Owain responded, aghast. “Surely you see the historical irony in—”
“If you could just smile for the cameras...we could use another shot,” the reporter interrupted next to him, motioning for Enne to move closer to Levi. “Maybe put an arm around the lady?”
Levi paused, and for a brief moment, Enne feared he’d spoil her farce, labeling her as the manipulative performer the Republic feared she was. But he must’ve realized the danger in that because he reluctantly wrapped his arm around Enne’s shoulders. The cameras flashed.
“No one is going to believe this,” Levi hissed in her ear.
In response, Enne glanced at him, laughed, and wiped some of her pink lipstick off his chin.
“This is going to sell a lot of papers,” the young man said gleefully, oblivious to the frustration flushing across Owain’s face as he elbowed him in the side. “The board is going to love this, sir.”
Enne leaned into Levi’s chest and smiled wider. She didn’t play much cards, but she believed the phrase was “forcing one’s hand.”
An hour later, the heart-eyed couple remerged onto the bustling streets of the Financial District. OutsideThe Crimes & The Timesoffice, a street vendor sold bouquets of roses and carnations, and Enne was surprised to find the labels for each color no different from those on the North Side—white for friend, pink for lover, and red for mistress. She supposed the city loved a good romance no matter which side of the Brint you lived on.
“Is there green for liar?” Levi said lowly as they passed the display, finally tearing his hand from Enne’s. “Or perhaps purple for traitor?”
“It’s a good plan, Levi,” Enne said coolly. “And it worked.”
“I’m not saying it’s not a good plan, but you could’ve consulted me before we made a spectacle worthy of Sweetie Street.”
“Just like you consulted me when you paid off the Scarhands?” she countered. “Besides, it’s a good thing I had a plan of my own. You heard the questions Owain was asking. If he’d gotten what he’d wanted, tomorrow’s paper would be printed with my death sentence.”
Levi frowned and stared at the rose petals littering the sidewalk, and Enne knew the only reason he didn’t have a snarky response was because he knew she was right.
“Besides,” Enne murmured, softening her tone, “it’s not like we haven’t kissed each other before.”
“You’re right,” he said darkly. “And it’s not like we haven’t betrayed each other, either.”
