“Ah. I see.” She dabbed at her cheek again, blinking back more tears. “I suppose we can find some comfort in the knowledge that she was happy before she died, can’t we?”
“Definitely,” I said. “That’s a really nice way of looking at it.”
Julian finally stepped back into the room. “Roman will meet us at the cemetery at ten o’clock tomorrow morning,” he said, gaze flicking between me and my mother. “Is that okay?”
Mom smiled faintly. “Yes. I can’t wait to meet him,” she said. She looked at me, then back at Julian again. “I just realized… I forgot all about the food. Are you two hungry?”
“I ate a little on the plane, but I could still eat something else,” I said.
Julian nodded. “Me too.”
“Okay.” Mom rose to her feet, smothering a yawn. “I’ll start reheating it now.”
“It’s all right. We can do it,” Julian said, lifting a palm. I nodded in agreement.
“Are you sure?” Mom smothered another yawn, and then she shook her head. “Sorry, I’m suddenly so tired, even though it’s still so early. I’ve had quite a long day.”
“It’s fine, Mom. You should go to bed,” I said, leaning forward to give her a hug. “I promise we won’t set fire to the kitchen.”
After she headed upstairs, Julian turned to me. “She's great,” he said quietly. “I can see where you get it from.”
“Get what?”
“That light.” He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “She loves you so much. It's obvious.”
“Yeah,” I said softly, guilt churning in my stomach again. “She does.”
Julian frowned, obviously picking up on my sudden unease. “What's wrong?”
I glanced toward the stairs, making sure my mother was definitely out of earshot. "I hate lying to her,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “About where I've really been. What's really happening. Everything.”
Julian's expression grew serious, and he took my hands in his. “I know it’s hard. But—”
“But this is what my life will be like from now on,” I finished for him. “Keeping secrets. Not just from her, but from everyone outside the Club.” I looked down at our joined hands. “I know that already, but like you said… it’s hard.”
“It gets easier,” Julian said. “You learn what you can share and what you can't. You find ways to be honest about your feelings even when you can't be honest about the facts.”
“And if I slip up? If I accidentally reveal something I shouldn't?”
“You won’t. That’s what the training is for. Learning how to stop that from happening.”
I gave him a nervous half-smile. “If I actually pass the training, that is.”
“You will.”
“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “The second trial is in four weeks, and… honestly, I’m worried.”
Julian's expression softened. “Tell me what you're worried about specifically. I can help.”
I took a breath. “Well, there’s supposed to be a big formal event to celebrate New Year’s Eve at the estate. A party in the main ballroom, filled with politicians, diplomats, CEOs, and all these other important high-society people. There'll be 'plants' there too, posing as regular guests but actually reporting back to the Council. Some will pretend to be journalists trying to get us to slip up and reveal something we shouldn't.”
“Right,” Julian said, nodding. “That's standard.”
‘We have to go without our partners, and we have to prove we can navigate that world without causing problems,” I continued. “We choose our own gown, shoes, accessories from our closets. If we choose something wrong, we fail. Same with hair and makeup. We have access to stylists if we want them, but we can't ask for their advice. We have to tell them exactly what we want, and it has to fit a black-tie event.”
“You've been learning all of this in training,” Julian said.
“I know, but it's one thing to learn it in a classroom and another to actually do it under pressure,” I said. “And then at the actual event, we have to talk with all these people and prove we belong there. We can't say the wrong thing to the wrong person. Like accidentally offending a foreign diplomat or revealing something to one of the plants. And we can't get too drunk, or use the wrong fork, or do anything else embarrassing."
