“My head hurts,” I say.
Mercy sits beside me. “Me too.”
“Do you think we can fool everyone?” I ask. “Some of the Gifted children from the Forge might show up. A few of them are my friends.”
I brief her on all the new characters in my life and describe them carefully, so she won’t be alarmed when they approach her.
“Ender is clever,” Mercy says. “You’ll have to be careful.”
Ender is more keen-eyed than everyone else. It’ll be hard to fool him, especially because we spend so much time training together. It will be challenging, swallowing back my disdain for him. But I will have to try.
“You too,” I say. “Let’s not speak to him if we can help it.”
“Good thinking.”
It took Tamsin, Mercy, and two maids to stuff me into that atrocity. By the time the corset is tied, I can barely breathe.
“Help me.” I mouth to Mercy, who stands in the corner in a beautiful jade silk dress that flows like water down her slim frame, and that makes her eyes pop. I’m envious of how she looks. I would kill to be wearingthatdress, and not this death-trap.
Mercy giggles at my distress, which is quite rude of her.
To get Tamsin off our backs, I allowed the hairstylist to do an intricate updo but refused to wear any makeup. My midnight-black hair is coiled above my head in a careful twist, two dark tendrils escaping to frame my face. My bangs have gotten longerover the past few months, and the edges now scrape across my jaw.
Tamsin vanishes to call Ender to escort me. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My olive-toned face stares back at me. Dark liner elegantly frames my eyes, and my brows have been threaded and combed. My breasts are pushed high together, filling out the bodice of the dress. Pearls glitter under the dim light, casting fractured color across the room. The skirt flares around my hips, dripping like a waterfall.
“You look beautiful,” Mercy says with a soft smile. Her fingers cup my cheek. “Even if I fear for you every hour of the day at that place, I am so proud of the person you’ve become, and I know if Mother were here, she would be too. You are the bravest person I know.”
My throat tightens. I wrap my arms around her, clutching her tight.
“I love you, Mercy,” I whisper.
A knock sounds before the door cracks open. Ender steps inside, adjusting his cuffs. As much as I detest him, he looks rather spectacular in that suit. The black fabric molds to his broad shoulders and his trim waist. His raven hair is slicked back with gel, except for one defiant lock that slips loose and falls dreamily into his eyes.
He is undeniably beautiful.
The breath catches in my lungs when he looks up, but it isn’t me who captures his attention first—it is Mercy.
His mouth tilts upward, and Mercy glances at me, confused. He’s kind ofsmilingat her. Smiling might be a generous descriptor, but his lips lift of their own accord, free of their usual mockery or arrogance. And that one dimple appears.
Ender follows her gaze to me, and whatever warmth that had been there disappears. Something shifts in my chest. It’s toopainful and raw to describe. That sensation increases when he offers me his elbow and asks in a detached tone. “Ready?”
I nod, unable to speak.
I can’t help but think that the first time Ender smiled at me, I wasn’t even on the receiving end of it. Why do I even care? He made me hurt someone. He is a terrible person.
I’m so disturbed by my reaction to this entire ordeal that I skip a step and stumble.
Ender’s hands wrap around my waist, catching me effortlessly. He yanks me to his chest, stopping me from breaking my neck. My fingers tighten around his tense shoulders, and my heart drums like a galloping horse.
Ender’s fingers graze my back. I’m not certain what has distracted him, but it takes him a few seconds to release me. Our breaths collide as I struggle to recover. His proximity short-circuits my brain. Slowly, I descend a step, so we’re not so close.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
He’s staring at me oddly. Head tilted like he is solving a complex puzzle.
“Haven?” he asks, confused.
I swallow. “Who else would it be?”
