Clarke sends,Feeling sick.
It’s the truth, just not all of it. She waits until she’s sure Julian’s long gone, then slinks toward the exit. Her cuff pings again, and she checks it expecting Rhynn to be asking if Clarke needs anything.
It’s from Julian. Looking forward to seeing you tonight.
Tonight. Graham’s engagement party, just a few hours from now. She messages Sara, asking to be excused from attending, but Sara writes back that Naomi says Clarke needs the feel-good publicity now more than ever in the wake of Matthew’s article. If Clarke skips the party, there will be consequences. Naomi-via-Sara does not elaborate on what those consequences will be.
Fury doesn’t hurt as much as heartbreak. Clarke embraces it. She uses it to get back to her house without being a wreck in public. She uses it to keep her hands steady as she does her hair, a simple twist she learned from Imogen that leaves soft pieces free to frame her face. She uses it while she puts on a flowy dress in pale silver, and during the short trip over to where Graham’s fiancée’s family lives near Kepler Crater, and as she gets out of her hovercar near the long driveway at the address Julian gave her. She’s obviously in the right place; cars line the road on bothsides, and there are a few ships in the field of Martian crystal growing off to the left of the house.
It’s the end of August. Luna doesn’t naturally get seasons the way Earth does, but terraforming efforts have more or less matched lunar weather on the near side of the moon to Terran France, so it feels like the end of summer. Clarke stands in the heat with her face to the sun.
She has decided that this will not break her.
It hurts, yes. Even at their worst, she knew Julian respected her as a competitor. Knew he considered them equals, on the track and off it. Losing that is very, very hard to come to terms with. She both wants and doesn’t want to know exactlywhenit happened. It’s like the instant after a sudden injury, when you clamp your fingers over the cut on your arm. You want to pull your hand away and find out how bad it is, but what if it’sreallybad? What if Julian hasneverthought of Clarke as his equal?
He might’ve been lying. He might’ve said it because he really wants to fly for Provenance, and he saw an opportunity to reinforce Atreus’s assumption that Clarke isn’t a valid option. Clarke could…she could live with that, she thinks. It’s cruel, but it’s onetime cruelty in service of Julian’s goals, not potentialyearsof Julian deceiving her.
She has to know.
A large ship drops out of the sky, lands in the field, and spills out a collection of happy, laughing people. Julian’s with the group, a broad smile on his face, and the grin only grows when he sees Clarke and beelines for her. “You look great.”
Clarke knows she looks great. This dress does excellent things for her, creating the illusion of curves she doesn’t really have. People stare when Clarke wears this dress. She picked it for a reason. “Thanks.”
Julian’s smile dims in wattage. “What’s wrong?”
The rest of the group is getting close. Clarke thought she’d put on a happy face and go into the party until there was a good moment to pull Julian aside, but now that she’s here looking at him—she can’t. She can’t pretend with him anymore.
“We should talk.”
He goes blank just in time for Graham to catch up to them and sling his prosthetic arm around Julian’s neck. “Clarke! You’re here! I’m married!”
Clarke gives a strained smile. “Hi, Graham, I—wait, what? I thought this was—”
“We eloped!” A tiny woman in a blush pink dress appears under Graham’s other arm, beaming. “Are you Clarke? Like,Julian’sClarke? I’m Graham’s Hailey!”
It’s a dagger to the heart, but there’s so much joy emanating from Hailey and Graham that Clarke finds herself laughing weakly anyway. “Congratulations! Julian told me this was just an engagement party, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to crash your wedding—”
“Oh, no, it isexcellentthat you’re here,” Hailey says. “Graham’s mom is about to be extremely annoyed at us, so I’m just gonna plop you in front of her as a nice, shiny distraction. This is the best wedding present you could’ve given me.”
“I’m the one that brought her. Credit for the distraction should go to me,” Julian says, his own smile just as forced as Clarke’s. “Go on, you two go make your grand entrance. Clarke and I will catch up.”
The newlyweds dash hand in hand toward the large tent set up in the backyard. The rest of the wedding party follows them, leaving Clarke and Julian alone at the edge of the field.
“They eloped?” Clarke asks, watching Hailey and Grahamburst into the tent to raucous applause (and then a lot of gasping). She feels rent apart, happy for them and upset with Julian and sad about Provenance all at once.
“They were going to get married after the season, but the planning was getting really stressful, and they didn’t want to wait anymore. This party was coming up, and pretty much everyone who got invited to the wedding was already planning on being here, so they decided to just do it.”
“That’s sweet. They seem really in love.”
“They are.” He looks at her. “What happened? Why are you—what happened?”
The ship that brought the wedding party takes off. They’re alone at the front of the house, but more guests could arrive anytime. Clarke doesn’t want to ruin Graham and Hailey’s day, and definitely doesn’t want to do this with an audience.
Without a word, she walks deeper into the crystal field.
26
They have to pick eachstep carefully. The ground is carpeted in rough crystal matting, and chunky patches of it grow as high as their waists. Everything shimmers in the sunset.
