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“You will bring Regillen to the gala. You will dress him. You will make him stand straight and hold a glass without crushing it. And you will show the board that you have the leash firmly in your hand.”

The threat was implicit but clear.

“If he acts out,” Tegula whispered, leaning in until I could see the gray flecks in his eyes, “if he embarrasses me in front of the generals... I will liquidate him. And because you are responsible for him, I will strip your rank and put you in the barracks with the grunts until you learn humility.”

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. “He will be perfect, Director.”

“He better be. Dismissed.”

I turned and walked out, holding a measured pace until the elevator doors sealed. I slumped against the metal wall, gasping for air, while the threat hung over me like a guillotine blade. Liquidate him. Strip you.

I stormed back to the dorms, my pulse hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I handled pressure before: penalty kicks in the rain, broken toes, rival crowds screaming for my blood, but this was different. This required me to control chaos itself.

I swiped my hand across the panel, and the door to the Duo Dorm slid open.

Leander was doing pushups shirtless, moving with a piston-like rhythm, counting under his breath.

“98... 99... 100.”

Sweat dripped from his nose, landing in a small pool on the floor tiles. The muscles of his back bunched and released, hypnotic and powerful, and I gave the sight exactly one second longer than protocol required before I put the lapse down to fatigue and moved on.

He pushed up and held the plank, turning his head to look at me.

“Get up,” I said. “We have an appointment.”

“I’m busy.” He dropped down for another set.

“We have to go to the fitting,” I said, stepping over the tape line without breaking stride, because he had crossed it first. “You need a suit for tomorrow.”

“I’m not going,” Leander grunted, pushing back up. “I don’t do dress-up tea parties. I’m here to play soccer, not to model for a bunch of rich perverts.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“Watch me.”

“Leander!” The name came out as a plea.

He stopped mid-rep. He held the plank position, triceps trembling slightly with the effort, head turned, waiting.

“The Director just threatened to liquidate us,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper pitched under the dorm mics’ pickup floor. “He thinks you’re a wild animal. He thinks I can’t control you. If you don’t show up tomorrow looking like a civilized human being, he pulls the plug.”

Leander held my gaze. He weighed the desperation in my eyes against his own stubborn pride.

“Liquidate?” he asked.

“The front lines. Tomorrow. No trial.”

Leander pushed himself up. He sat back on his heels, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

“He wants to see if you have me on a leash,” he said. It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes.”

Leander stood up. He towered over me, smelling of sweat, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to hold his eyes.

“I don’t wear a leash, Felix.”

“For one night,” I said, hating how breathless my voice sounded. “Just for one night, pretend for fuck’s sake.”