It isn’t until I reach out for the blue velvet box that I notice my fingers are trembling. Are all girls this scared of a marriage proposal? It probably doesn’t help that mine comes with a real till-death-do-us-part clause attached. I stare at the ring. It’s flawless, but its loveliness is tainted by what it stands for: control.

Over me.

Over Arras.

“Allow me,” he says, slipping it onto my finger. “I know you think of this as a means to an end, Adelice, but remember, there is no shame in compromise.”

There is shame in lying, I think. But I swallow the words deep inside me with a frantic gulp.

“Perfect,” he says. The ring fits precisely as though it were made for me. It probably was.

I fan my fingers in front of me, noticing the ring’s weight as the stone catches the light and blazes with fiery life, sending flickers like stars around the room.

“Do we have a deal?” Cormac asks.

“The proposal every girl dreams of,” I mutter.

“I’m not getting down on one knee.”

“Thank Arras.”

I stare at him. Then I stare at the ring. Cormac needs a wedding to distract the citizens from trouble, whatever that means, but a wedding could buy me time as well. Time to figure out what Cormac is keeping from the people. Time to allow the Agenda on Earth to organize. Because time is a precious thing there, and I need to buy as much of it as I can for my friends.

“Yes,” I say, pushing Erik’s face from my mind and ignoring the twinge of fear I feel.

We regard each other for one wary moment and then I reach out and grip his hand in a firm shake.

“How businesslike,” Cormac says, and he pulls my hand up to his mouth, but before his lips can touch it, the door zips open and Hannox enters. He freezes for a moment, no doubt stunned by Cormac’s romantic gesture. Or maybe by the horror on my face.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, sir.”

Cormac waves it off. “What’s the trouble? Are those Agenda fools coming after us?”

I tug my hand from his at the mention of the Agenda, wondering if he’s referring to Dante, Jost, and Erik.

“The problem isn’t on Earth, sir,” Hannox says, pausing to let this information sink in. “It’s Arras. There’s a blackout over the Eastern Sector.”

TWO

I’VE ONLY EVER SEEN ONE BLACKOUT—when I was a child—but I’ve never forgotten it. The disappearance of the sky isn’t something to be taken lightly, and past instances had been highlighted on the Stream as part of cautionary programming. The message in those programs was clear: stay calm. Blackouts lasted minutes at the most. At least, they were supposed to.

We had been warned about them during my training at the Coventry, the effect they had on citizens. Being responsible for a blackout was a sure way to lose your position at the loom. But a simple blackout didn’t require the attention of the prime minister.

“Take her,” Cormac commands Hannox, and he’s out the door before I can ask him what I should do to help.

The gages are back over my fingers despite my protests and Hannox marches me out of Cormac’s quarters.

“I don’t need these,” I say to Hannox.

“I’m in charge of your safety.” His response is even, but he doesn’t bother to look at me.

“And how do these keep me safe?” I ask him.

“Cormac placed you under my guard. I’ve been studying you for years, Adelice. I tracked you on the surface of Earth, and in that time I’ve come to one conclusion.”

This should be good.

“The person who poses the most danger to you”—he pauses and meets my eyes—“is yourself.”

I wish I could argue that point, but I can’t.

Around us, officers in various styles of tactical gear rush in and out of corridors. Some carry weapons and others are in rappelling equipment. This is what a state of emergency looks like. Cormac can lie about the severity of the issues in Arras, but seeing this I know the situation is spinning out of his control. I wait for someone to give me directions but instead I’m led to the aeroship’s observation deck, which is full of bustling crew who push past me and around me without a second glance.

“What am I supposed to do?” I ask Hannox as he turns to leave me.

Hannox isn’t quite what I expected. I’d seen him before at the Guild mines on Earth, but now that he’s up close to me, I don’t know what to make of him. He’s got a soft face with large brown eyes that crinkle in concentration. He’s not smooth and polished and slick like Cormac. But Hannox is deadly, I remind myself. I can’t trust his kind face. It’s always Hannox that Cormac calls to handle his dirty work. He must be good at it.

“Sit tight and let us observe you,” Hannox says to me.

“That’s it? I can’t … help?”

Hannox’s eyes stay soft but his words are cold as he checks the settings on the steel cuffs that bind my fingers. “I don’t know what deal you’ve struck with Cormac, but when we need your help, we’ll ask for it. We have a full-blown revolution happening in the Eastern Sector. I’m not about to parade the queen of the rebels in and trust her to help us out.”

“What if I escape?” I ask him, a burning resentment bubbling through me. But I immediately regret my question. Hannox will certainly report it back to Cormac.

“I would love to see you try to escape with those on,” Hannox says, gesturing to the gages, “but if by some miracle you do”—he turns my wrist and traces the control panel—“I’ll blow your hands off. A Creweler isn’t much use without her hands.”