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"We'll have to go at night. Sneak past the guards, open a window or a door." Khel's undeterred.
We've never attempted anything even remotely as risky before. What if we're caught? This idea seems worse and worse by the moment. Out loud, I say,"We can observe tomorrow, come back afterwards if we see an entry point."
They're ready first thing in the morning, which isn't like either of them. Alva's usually one to drag her feet until midday, and Khel doesn't show much enthusiasm about anything ever, but they're both thrilled by this mission. Me, not so much.
I wash and stare at the half-dozen outfits hanging next to my cot. In the lanes, no one would so much as raise an eyebrow at any of my clothes, but I'm at a loss as to what I'm supposed to wear uptown. My choices are jeans or cargo pants, and various compression tops.
Grandma Lyn sewed me a sundress every summer, and I used to wear them when we had dinner once a week, but I keep those at her house.Myhouse, I suppose. The four walls filled with books, hand-stitched clothes, and basic remedies brewed in her kitchen belong to me, now.
I put on white jeans and a green top. I consider what to do with the copper mane on top of my head. Most of the time, it's braided, then tucked under a hood. Brushing my hair's an endeavor I don't undertake lightly, given how much time and effort it takes, but I don't think an uptown woman would be caught dead with my bird’s nest.
Khel takes pity on me. "Here, let me."
His nimble fingersbraid half of the curls that reach to the middle of my back much faster than I would, and then twist it around my head like a crown. Some of my curls still fall loosely. Those, he brushes. The mirror reflects an insouciant woman whom I don't recognize—the kind of person who has half an hour to do something about her appearance every day. I'll never be that person, because when I have some free time, I prefer to spend it reading or making myself useful.
"I should convince you to cut that mess." Khel works as a hairdresser a couple of times per week. He silently, broodingly despairs of me. That also takes time, hence why I haven't yet. Plus, Grandma Lyn used to like my stupid hair. It reminded her of her younger days.
"I'm surprised you haven't asked yet." Alva keeps her hair pixie short, especially in the summer. "Ready?"
I'm not sure I'll ever be ready to spy into Neleda's world, but I'm no coward, and if something has to be done, I'd much rather get it over with. So I nod.
* * *
Needless to say, my clothes are wrong. The other women here wear well-cut, expensive blouses, and trendy, colorful summer dresses. Khel throws his arm around my shoulders casually. To the casual onlooker, we could seem like a couple on a stroll, which makes me look less conspicuous. Alva's not a problem—as a petite, buxom blonde in a white dress, she's hardly ever glanced at twice.
It takes a while to get to the duke's property.
The tall house is well situated, directly opposite a green square—despite the blinding heat and the many water shortages in the undercity—with benches and a large fountain.
Supported bytwelve columns, the red brick house boasts large windows and a tower with a sculpted lion on top.
I chuckle. I can't believe my mother is the mistress of this house—thiscastle.
As the map suggested, the gated propertyhas a courtyard in the front and a garden in the back. We spot the guards patrolling in pairs outside, and the cameras aimed in every direction.
The wealth and opulence of the whole thing disgust me. What it takes to run this house for a single day could feed an entire neighborhood in the undercity for a month, if not more.
"I can't believe she lives here," Alva muses.
"We can't pull it off. Not even at night." There's no way to get into that house unseen.
"Wecan.You just don't want to. You don't have to come with us, but we're going in tonight," Alva declares.
My jaw ticks in annoyance. We're passed the house in a few more steps. I don't risk a backward glance, unmasked as I am, but I remember the setup well enough. My desires have little to do with the fact that this place is a fortress, protected by high gilded walls.
Even if we did find a way in, what could we find to incriminate Neleda? I don't expect her to have a folder on her desk labeledmy three-step evil plan.
"I'm the boss, remember?"
"I certainly do. I remember the day you won a race through the lanes against all of us, atseventeen, to earn the title when Manu retired. You lead us because you're faster, stronger, and smarter. If one person can get into this place unseen, it's you."
Even I don’t realize how wrong she is.
CHAPTERFOUR
THE BEAST IN THE NIGHT
Le droit du seigneuris a brutish, outdated custom that should have long since been abolished, and most of the time, I pass on my right to fuck the women of my court on their wedding night. Not tonight.
