Kalie didn’t have to give the order—at the sound of Ariah’s voice, the attendants scuttled towards the gold doors.
Shaking her head, Ariah closed out of the polls and set the holopad aside. “I guess meditation didn’t work?”
Kalie bit her tongue against the protest that something might happen if she looked away from the polls. If Marcus didn’t keep his lead, if he didn’t oust Carik…
She shuddered.
It wouldn’t be the first time Carik arranged an accident for his enemies—and their families.
A holo of a little auburn-haired girl appeared over the holocomm in Ariah’s palm. As Lexie flashed a gap-toothed grin, Kalie smiled—but all too quickly, fear tightened her throat. If Carik won, her baby cousin would be a target, too.
“Kalie!” Only her head was visible, but Lexie was clearly bouncing. Sitting still was never one of the Duchissa Heredem’s strengths. “You read my book?”
Ariah smiled warmly as she held up the mess of glitter and crayon, held together by tape. “It’s very, very good. You outdid yourself, Lex.”
Lexie beamed. “Who do you like most?”
“Hmm.” Ariah leafed through the delicate pages. “Princessa Cavanna, I think.”
“Mine was the dragon,” Kalie lied, flashing Ariah’s usual smirk. “She reminds me of me.”
Ara the Dragoncould only be one person, but even with Lexie, the risk was too great to let their ruse drop. With Lex’s usual gaggle of minders and guards, there were too many listening ears.
“I named her for you!” Glee shone in Lexie’s bright eyes. “Ara is a big pink dragon, and she likes to color, and she reads to her baby cousin, and they go on lots and lots of adventures to save the world?—”
As Lexie prattled on, Kalie tried not to think about Carik or the polls, she really did, but the ticking chrono won out. “You can tell us all about it when we get home,” she said, in Ariah’s voice, “but we need to talk to Auntie now.”
Lexie pouted, and Ariah threw a look over her shoulder, as if reminding Kalie that she was supposed to be acting like the fun one.
“You can help me color later?”
“Of course,” Kalie said, as Ariah’s eyes sparkled. “Just take us to your mom, okay?”
Lexie frowned, then the holo blurred as she bolted away, hollering, “Mama! It’s for you!”
Ariah snorted.
The bouncing comm steadied as a holo of a woman’s head slidinto view. As always, the sight of her aunt was enough to lighten the pressure on Kalie’s chest.
Duchissa Calida Amador, reigning monarch of the planet Dali, had an ethereal beauty Kalie had always longed for: perfect posture, smooth skin, and shiny platinum hair woven into an elaborate updo. Creases surrounded her eyes, the product of many cycles of grief and stress, but when she smiled, they faded away.
“There’s my favorite niece.”
“Second favorite,” Kalie said, in her best imitation of Ariah. Flinging herself onto the futon, she pressed her hand to her heart. “You wound me, Auntie, you truly do.”
Aunt Calida’s pale blue eyes flicked between them. Then she laughed, and that melodic sound—so rare, over the past few weeks, months, cycles—finally calmed Kalie’s nerves. “The two of you are still switched, aren’t you?”
Why, Auntie,she nearly said—anything to prolong the joke—but she’d spoken in Archaic Sauvena, the ancient language of Dali’s elite.
Her smile fell away.
The background of Aunt Calida’s holo came into focus. She was in the makeshift war room tucked beneath the Olympian stadium, where Marcus would soon give his final speech. This was not a time for jokes or careless slips of the tongue. Though Aunt Calida had surely emptied the room, any number of people could be listening in.
Ariah gave a curt nod—the nod of a soldier, not the princess she was pretending to be. “We’ll stay switched until we get home,” she said, in perfect Sauvena. “With the election this close, I don’t want to take any chances with Kal’s safety.”
“Good. I don’t put anything past Carik.”
“It doesn’t help that you publicly condemned him last month. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to piss him off.”
