“Your father had you dragged here for nothing,” I say.
I have the strange urge to rip out the Colonel’s throat. I don’t care if he is simply doing as my father instructed. I don’t appreciate being treated like a child who is incapable of doing his job.
“Clover has agreed to befriend the girl and discover her secrets,” Ansel says. “I sent her a message briefing her on the situation.”
“She is not an idiot,” I say, between clenched teeth. “She won’t simply take Clover into confidence when they’ve never exchanged a word before.”
“You underestimate me, sir,” Clover says. “I am more than capable of extracting information from a potential threat, and that is exactly what Mercy Warrick is—a threat.”
“Since when?” I ask.
Clover and Ansel exchange a look.
“We understand that she is your future sister-in-law, but do you truly wish to integrate with this family if they are committing treason?” Ansel asks. “Their mother was executed for working with the Resistance. Who is to say the girl is not following in her footsteps?”
“You forget her father is Orson Warrick, the High General, and she may possess his loyalty and dedication to the regime,” I say. “I will handle the girl. You forget that I am the Commandant. I am the next Supreme Director. I am the future.”
Ansel stiffens, his mouth tightening into a thin line. He doesn’t appreciate the reminder, but I’m done maintaining the peace. He is clearly working towards his own goals, as is Clover.
They both can’t be trusted.
“Your father awaits a report,” Ansel says. “I will be sending my own, withmyobservations.”
“I’ll review your report before submission.”
“You mean you’ll edit it?” Clover asks bitterly. “Why are you so obsessed with her? One would think you like her more than your wife.”
“Are you implying that I am a cheater like your mother?” I snap.
There were whispers of her mother’s unfaithfulness since before Clover was born. Ansel turns a blind eye because he cares more about his duties than his family. But I know it bothers Clover; she has a rather strained relationship with the woman who birthed her.
Clover flinches at my harsh words.
“You are both dismissed,” I say coldly.
Anger flashes in Ansel’s eyes, but he knows better than to lash out at me.
Clover looks at me like I’ve betrayed her. We’ve always maintained a cordial relationship, but I can’t help but wonder if she is as keen on me as Haven claims. Maybe she is working with her father to target Mercy and ruin my engagement, which means her intentions might not be as pure as I assumed.
I can’t rely on either of them.
I’ll have to figure this out myself.
I visit the Archives late that afternoon. I took the chopper to Division Three straight after that meeting with Ansel. Normally, I prefer to drive; there’s a rhythm to the road that keeps me grounded, but the engagement party is in two days. There’s no time for traffic or navigating the endless checkpoints scattered across the boroughs.
Once we land on the pad and the deafening whir of the helicopter’s blades settles, a mass of capital enforcers step forward to escort me to my destination.
I never called them in, but it must have been the signal tower in North Mire that did, following protocol as usual. I’m supposed to have a minimum of four details with me at all times if traveling between boroughs. It’s another reason why I prefer to drive, so I can escape them.
The Archives is a sprawling stone building with nine floors stacked like a bureaucratic ladder. Its facade is pockmarked and weathered, with darkened windows.
I give the grave-faced enforcers a pointed look.
“Remain here till I return.”
“But, sir?—”
“That is an order.”
