“Oh, come on, you’re the one of us who’s good at numbers,” said Daphne, examining her nails.
“Why would you help me?” Zada managed at last. “You have no reason to.”
“Buford is a promising baby politician-in-training,” said Daphne. “That means people will be watching, hoping to get on his good side. They’ll be strategizing and planning andanticipating. Imagine if the wedding just—doesn’t happen.” Her eyes glittered. “Hilarious.”
Zada pinched the bridge of her nose. “You can’t literally do this for shits and giggles.”
Daphne opened her mouth.
“And don’t,” Zada hurried onward, “say, ‘Why, Zada, how is there shit involved?’ Please don’t. This is my future. You don’t have to care about that, but if this is purely a lark for you, I don’t want your help.”
Daphne closed her mouth. Then she sat up straight and said, “Look, I wanted to help Flora and Aiden but I couldn’t. You and I, we were friends once. Can we chalk it up to old time’s sake?”
She looked so achingly sincere that for a beat, Zada couldn’t think of what to say.
“Right,” said Zada. “Okay. Truce?”
“Temporary truce,” Daphne agreed. “You realize we’ll be spending a lot of time together, right?”
“I do,” Zada told her. “If anyone asks, you’re helping me plan the wedding. We’ve rekindled our friendship, and you have many, many opinions on pearl white versus cream.”
“Ugh,” said Daphne, with feeling. “Yeah, okay. And you can stay with me at Grandfather’s estate, or else you’ll be spending about half our skullduggery time just riding the train into town and back.”
Zada nodded. “We absolutely cannot get caught,” she heard herself say. There was no need to explain why. She was risking everything on the chance that, just maybe, her Heartsong match was wrong. If they were apprehended, Daphne, the chancellor’s granddaughter, would likely face no consequences,but Zada’s reputation and future were on the line. And if the worst came to pass, she’d be Extricated.
“Of course,” said Daphne. Then, with an all-too-familiar rakish grin, she stuck out her hand and said, “Ruin a wedding with me?”
This was a foolhardy, impossible mission that went against everything Zada had ever known. But everything seemed impossible, until the first time it happened. And with Daphne, the possibilities had always felt endless.
They shook on it. They were in this together now. It was the two of them, against the world—just like old times.
“Well then,” said Zada. “Let’s get started.”
Chapter EightIn Which Zada Is Flummoxed
Our first order of business,” said Daphne, “is to teach you to lie better.”
Zada frowned, pausing in the middle of checking she’d packed everything she needed to stay at the Fallow estate.
There was no time to lose with her wedding coming up in two months. She’d made quick work of gathering her things, and finished just in time for her parents to arrive home. Explaining to them why she had to leave with Daphne was easy enough. Being close to the city center was far more convenient for all the wedding planning Zada had to do. And of course, her parents were only too happy to see Zada reconciled with an old friend.
“It will only be for a month or two,” Zada had said, but then her mother had said, sniffling, “Yes, and then you’ll move away to Buford’s for the rest of your life.” That had left Zada somewhat teary as well. Returning home after boarding at Dalrymple Academy had been stifling at times, but she loved her parents. She would miss her mother’s boisterous voice and even more boisterous cheer, and her father’s well-intentioned attempts at cooking breakfast.
Daphne had insisted on hiring a hyper-carriage with herSmartGem. As they waited for it to arrive, Zada was grateful that Leo Hadwell, the Founder who had designed New Ionia’s transportation grid, had been willing to channel a few of his billions into creating a more traditional method of travel, for those who prized a connection to the past.
It was why they had Heartsong, after all. A return to tradition, to a better way of living. All the romance of finding your soulmate, with the guesswork and conflict and human error taken out. To live in New Ionia was a blessing, and Zada would not take that for granted. She would assume the role chosen for her in society and become the upstanding citizen that she was raised to be—as soon as she made sure that Buford was truly her match and not some kind of improbable miscalculation.
“I don’t need help lying,” said Zada, resuming her rummaging. She had her toiletries, her lenses hub, her backup earrings, spare dresses, her other corset and the rest of her undergarments, her pajamas, and, most importantly, her triple cello. “I’ve been doing just fine lying about how I feel about Buford, haven’t I?”
“Ah, but that’s easy,” Daphne said. She was sitting to Zada’s left, sprawled carelessly toward the window as if the spot was her birthright. “You’re telling them exactly what they want to hear. It’s easy to lie in that direction. But when you have to talk yourself upstream, that’s where the true art comes in. And if we’re going to pull this off, we’ll be engaging in an awful lot of subterfuge.”
“You say this as if I haven’t helped you pull off several years’ worth of capers at school,” Zada said impatiently. “Remember when we convinced Professor Egerton it was Friday and thathe’d already given us our Latin quiz?”
“Yes,” said Daphne, “and I also distinctly remember doing all the talking.”
“All the talking in the world wouldn’t have gotten us anywhere had I not hacked the calendar on his SmartGem and the school clocks, in addition to creating a custom news feed featuring a number of events that hadn’t happened yet—”
“That’s hacking, not lying,” Daphne insisted. She crossed her legs. “And inanimate objects don’t know your tells, Zada.
