‘Ravensloe would be interested to know how you willingly compromised our location, don’t you think?’
I nod and turn towards the door. Ralph grabs me by the arm.
‘I said you weren’t going inside,’ he growls. He flings the half-smoked cigarette to the ground. ‘Do you by any chance know where Dr Seymour keeps the key to the glasshouse?’
‘What?’What is he talking about?‘No.’
‘Are you sure?’
His hand is still squeezing my arm. The wool of my jacket is thick, but I can feel the skin bruising beneath.
‘I’m sure,’ I say. ‘I’ve never seen a key.’
Ralph licks his lips. ‘I don’t believe you.’
I stare at him, the salt from my tears drying on my face. He laughs quietly and shakes his head.
‘You think you’ve got it bad?’
Why is he even talking to me?I try to pull my arm away, but he grips it tighter.
‘I’m only here because my aunt kept me from returning to Germany when this war started.’
Aunt.
‘I was training in dragon combat with the Freikorps, and rising to the top. I came home on leave, working as a temporary Guardian, but when the Peace Agreement was compromised I wasn’t allowed to go back. It wouldn’t do for the Prime Minister’s nephew to fail to defend his own country.’ Ralph sneers and takes a step closer to me. ‘I lost friends, connections, opportunities. All to be stationed here to babysit a bunch of would-be criminals. I lost my fucking chance!’
I stare straight ahead into the dark garden. ‘Guardian 707, you’re hurting me.’
‘And it’s because ofyou.’
My head snaps back towards him.
‘Your new friends might not know why you’re here,’ Ralph says, ‘butIdo.’
An invisible vice grips my heart. Ralph just smiles.
‘Vivien Featherswallow, the girl who collaborated with a criminal dragon,’ he says loudly. ‘The girl who started the war. The girl who left her sister behind to save a group of rebels.’
‘Stop it!’ I whisper hoarsely, covering my ears. ‘Please, stop.’
‘Why is it,’ Ralph says, ‘that young women, of perfectly docile appearance, think they can come here and do men’s work? Do you think you know more about dragons than I do?’
He twists my arm and I shriek, a sob rising in my throat until the pain cuts my breath short.
‘I should break your arm,’ he says. ‘You deserve it, don’t you?’ His mouth is against my cheek. ‘Tell me you don’t deserve it and I’ll stop.’
I try to reach my free arm out to push him away, but my body is locked against his.
I don’t say a word. Ursa is dead. Two thousand people are dead. And Sophie lost everything because of me. All because of my selfish choices. Pain clouds my vision.
Of courseI deserve it.
I gasp as Ralph’s hand slips beneath the collar of my shirt, his fingers grazing the top of my breastbone.
Searching for a key.
‘Nothing there?’ he says in mock surprise, his hands still on my skin. ‘Perhaps you’re not as cunning as your mama—’
