She didn’t argue as Levi took the lead, grasping her hand and tugging her oh-so-romantically in the direction of the scents of cotton candy and saltwater taffy. Gone were the enterprises catering to all manners of vice, replaced by rides, games, and workers in summery, out-of-season costumes. An artist had painted beachy animals along the wooden planks below their feet—turtles, crabs, and seagulls. Sometimes Levi forgot there even were kids in the City of Sin. Then he remembered he’d been one, when he’d arrived. He hadn’t felt like it.
As Enne had warned, a flurry of photographers flocked them as they approached. Considering this was supposedly the scene of their breakup, Levi made sure to don a sour expression. It wasn’t difficult.
“How are you adjusting to your new role in the National Bank?” one reporter asked Enne. “It must be dreadful to spend so much time apart. You’ve hardly been out together for a month.”
“A month? Has it really been so long?” Enne asked, smiling widely while she squeezed Levi’s hand in a death grip.
“How did you two spend your birthday? Did he get you any gifts?”
“We wanted to do something more private. I cooked,” Enne answered.
Levi knew full well that Enne’s culinary prowess began and ended at sweets. He almost laughed when he imagined such a night, swallowing down whatever burnt meal she’d served him and glaring at each other over the table.
“Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’d like to ride the ferris wheel,” Enne said sweetly, pulling Levi away.
“That death trap?” Levi asked, his mouth going dry as he peered up to its top. “You sure bumper cars wouldn’t make more sense?”
“I have no fear of heights,” Enne said simply, then strode toward the ride. She was punishing him, but the joke would be on her if they both fell to their deaths. He cursed under his breath and stalked after her.
Despite the frigid weather, because the attractions were so new, the pair were forced to wait in a long line for the ride. Levi hadn’t been in a crowd like this since the inauguration ball, and even if it was mostly comprised of parents and children, standing there made his heart pound.
We have our pardons now, Levi assured himself logically. But his father’s voice was always louder, reminding him that it was better they were apart.
By the time they made it onto the ride, Levi was sweating despite the cold.
“Oh, it won’t be that bad,” Enne said, rolling her eyes. “It’s no higher than your penthouse suite at St. Morse.”
Hearing Enne’s tone, the ride operator shot them a surprised look.
Levi glowered as their seat rose higher, as his stomach dropped lower. “So I guess it’s showtime, then? Better make sure it’s over-the-top. Our audience can’t hear us from here, but they can certainly see us.”
“Good, because I’ve rehearsed what I’d like to say to you, since it’s the last time we get to speak,” Enne said, and her words struck him more than they should have. He hadn’t considered this outing through that lens—he would never speak to her again. “Firstly, you are a coward. If you’d never wanted to see me again, then you didn’t have to use the Chancellor’s contract to do so.”
“Forgive me for prioritizing your survival,” he said dryly. “And I don’t recall forcing you to sign that contract.”
She crossed her arms. “You made it clear what you wanted—just like you have for months. That you can’t stand the sight of me. That every moment of our romance has been an irritation, a—”
“I don’t like performing,” Levi said flatly.
“All youdois perform, Levi! Isn’t that what you’ve been doing since we last saw each other? Buying decorations for the casino you don’t even want?”
He flinched—he’d never told Enne his feelings about the Legendary. “How do you know that?”
“Because I know you. Because I loved you,” she said fiercely, and Levi noted that she had not fallen victim to his same mistake—she’d clearly used past tense. She hugged her arms to herself. “It’s not fair, what you’ve put me through since last November. I know you didn’t agree to this romance, but you didn’t need to toy with me the way you did at the ball. And it’s not fair that you’ve blamed me for Jac’s death, when you played as much of a role in it as I did. If you—”
“Don’t,” Levi gritted out. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“I don’t care—I do. If you’d never made that deal with Harrison, you would’ve never betrayed Vianca, and she wouldn’t have made me kill him. And I’ll have to live with that forever. But you’d rather blame me than blame yourself.”
Levi squeezed the cold metal of the edge of the compartment. “Vianca was a monster, and I spent three years working for her. Trapped. I don’t regret helping Harrison and giving myself something to hope for. In my position, you would’ve done the same.”
“And in mine, you would’ve done the same, too,” Enne shot back. “I’ve killed Sedric Torren and two whiteboots—I haven’t forgotten, even if I did it to survive. But you also killed Chez and Semper. If it’d been you, you would’ve had the thought, too.”
Levi felt his normally expert poker face slipping. She was right. It wasn’t fair for Levi to force his own guilt onto her. Like him, she’d been grieving these past few months. And she’d been afraid, too.
“I was not toying with you,” he said quietly. “I had no idea the reporters had followed us into the kitchens that night.”
Enne gaped. “But...but you never said—”
