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“They can wait,” says Harristan.
The guard nods. The door swings closed.
“You can’t hide in here all day,” I say to him. “We need to address this.”
“I’m not hiding.” Harristan doesn’t move. “Do you think it was planned?”
“Which part?”
He looks at me. “All of it.” He pauses. “There were cries for revolution in the crowd, Cory.”
You can stop this!
Fight them! Fight back!
I run a hand across the back of my neck and sigh. “I heard them.”
“Everyone heard them.” He hesitates as if he has more to say, but he falls silent. He’s so quiet that I can hear the clock ticking on his desk. After a moment, he coughs, and my head snaps around.
That makes him glare. “Stop that. I don’t need a nursemaid.”
I study him, looking for telltale signs of the fever. His cheeks aren’t flushed, and his eyes are clear. I listen to his breathing anyway.
His eyes narrow. “If you want to worry about something, worry about what we’re going to tell the consuls.”
“I thought that’s what you were spending all this time thinking about.”
“Allisander will be furious.”
“Undoubtedly.”
“Lissa will be as well.”
“I’ve already offered guards for their supply runs.”
“They’re going to want more. More assurance. More promises. More . . . more.”
Then I realize what he’s been waiting for. What he’s not saying. He asked for a spectacle this morning—and he got one. Not the one he wanted, surely, but it was a spectacle all the same. Now he wants another one. Something that will appease the consuls and stop the populace from thinking revolution is an easy path.
He’s been waiting on me.
I finally stop pacing and look at him. “Then let’s give them more.”
Allisander only has one black eye, but the bruising across his jaw and forehead seem to make up for it. It must have been too painful to shave around that perfect goatee, because it looks like he started before giving it up. Poor baby.
The pain doesn’t stop him from railing at me during the consul meeting. “They were all to be taken care of,” he snaps. “Now you’ve let three get away.”
“I didn’t let anyone get away,” I say evenly. “They’re not the first to escape, and they surely won’t be the last.”
“They can reorganize,” he says. “They’ll be after our supply runs. You’ll see.” He slams a fist down on the table. “You promised me, Corrick.”
“I’ve offered additional guards.” I glance across the table at Lissa Marpetta, who’s been sitting in silence while Allisander has a tantrum. “For your supply runs as well.”
“Who are these Benefactors?” she says, looking down her nose at me coolly.
“I have no idea.”
“No idea,” thunders Allisander. “No idea, yet you felt no need to torture them during questioning—”
