Then the voice from the loudspeaker reminded us: “A DILIGENT CITIZEN IS A HAPPY CITIZEN.”

Inside, my heart ached.

“Did you hear that the villages along the southern borders are all under siege?” Brooklynn asked once we were past the soldiers at the checkpoint and on the less-crowded city streets, away from the marketplace.

I rolled my eyes at Aron. We already knew that towns along the border were under attack; they’d been under attack for months. Everyone knew. That was part of the reason our city was suddenly so overpopulated by refugees. Almost everyone had taken in stray family members and their servants.

As far as I knew, mine was one of the few families unaffected by the migration, but only because we didn’t have any relatives in the outlying areas of the country.

“I wonder how long until the violence reaches the Capitol,” Brook continued dramatically. Binueically.

“Queen Sabara will never let them reach us. She’ll send her own army before they get too close,” I argued.

It was laughable calling our city “the Capitol,” since its concrete walls housed no one who held any real sway. The term implied authority and influence, when in reality we were simply the closest city to the palace. The queen was still the only person who held any true power.

But at least our city had a name.

Most of the cities of Ludania had long ago been stripped of that privilege, having been renamed simply by the quadrant of the country in which they were located and then ranked by size. 1West, 4South, 2East.

Children were often named in remembrance of the old cities. Once, it had been a form of rebellion to name a new baby Carlton or Lewis or Lincoln, a way of expressing dissatisfaction with the crown’s decision to reclassify cities into statistics. But now it was merely tradition, and babies were named after cities from countries across the globe.

People often assumed that my real name was Charlotte, after a faraway, long-ago city. But my parents claimed that they refused to partake in anything that would be considered rebellious, even a long-accepted custom like naming.

They preferred not to draw attention.

Brooklynn, on the other hand, liked to brag about her name’s roots. A great borough, in an even greater city that no longer existed.

She leaned in, her eyes feverishly bright. “Well, I heard . . .” She let those three words hang in the air, assuring us that she had information we didn’t. “. . . that the queen’s army is gathering in the east. Rumor has it that Queen Elena plans to join forces with the rebels.”

“Who told you that? One of your soldiers?” I whispered, so close now that my forehead practically touched hers as I searched her eyes probingly. I didn’t actually doubt her. Brook’s intelligence was rarely wrong. “How do you know they’re telling you the truth?”

Brook grinned, a slow, shameless grin. “Look at me, Charlie. Why would they lie to me?” And then she added, more seriously, “They say the queen’s getting tired. That she’ll be too old to fight back much longer.”

“That’s a bunch of crap, Brook. Old or not, Queen Sabara will never give up her country.” It was one thing to share real news from the front; it was another entirely to spread lies about our queen.

“What choice does she have?” Brook shrugged, continuing. “There’s no princess to take her place, and she certainly won’t allow a male heir to inherit the throne. It hasn’t been done in almost four hundred years; she’s not about to let it happen now. She’ll renounce the royal line before she allows the country to have a reigning king again.”

As we approached the Academy, I could feel my stomach tightening into angry knots. “That’s true, I suppose,” I said distractedly, no longer interested in a political debate. “She probably won’t allow herself to die until she finds a suitable female heir.”

I wished I could remain calm in the Bld rlm in th presence of the imposing school, impervious and unaffected. Above all, I desperately didn’t want the Counsel kids to see my discomfort.

Everything about the upscale school, including the students’ immaculately matched uniforms, screamed, We’re better than you. Even the white marble steps that led to the grand entrance of the Academy were polished to a high shine, making them look as if they’d be treacherous to maneuver.

I hated myself for wishing I knew the sound my shoes would make walking up them.

I tried not to look in the direction of the Academy students who loitered near the top of those steps. For some reason these particular girls bothered me most of all; these two who watched us more closely than the others, who enjoyed taunting us when we walked by.

Today was no different. The skirts of their identical uniforms were creased, and their snowy white shirts were starched and pristine. These girls most definitely knew the feeling of silk.

I tried not to notice as one of the girls moved purposefully down the last steps, her eyes targeting us. She flipped her golden-blond hair over her shoulder; her cheeks were flushed and rosy; her eyes glittered with malice.

She stopped on the sidewalk in front of us, holding up her hand, signaling that we should stay where we were. “Where are you three off to in such a hurry?” she intentionally asked in Termani, aware that we weren’t permitted to understand her.

Her words made the air vibrate around me, making it hard for me to breathe. I knew what I was supposed to do. Everyone knew. Beside me, Aron’s gaze shot to his feet, and Brooklynn’s did the same. A part of me wanted to ignore logic—to ignore the law—and my jaw clenched in response to her caustic words. But I knew that I wouldn’t. It wasn’t just my fate that I tempted if I broke the law—Brook and Aron might be held responsible as well.