by Rosiee Thor
Nathaniel resented the question. It implied there had to be an answer.
Leaning forward, Eliza fixed him with an inquisitive stare. “Do we, perhaps, have more in common than I first thought?”
Nathaniel matched her gaze, searching for the meaning beneath. He knew he was meant to understand her on some imperceptible level, but he didn’t. They were nothing alike. Eliza was a refined lady, his father seemed to adore her, and she knew exactly what she wanted. And she didn’t want him—at least there was that.
But what she wanted was Anna.
Something in Nathaniel’s mind slid into place. “I don’t— I’m not attracted to men, either. I’m not attracted to anyone. I never have been, and I don’t think I ever will be.” He’d never said those words aloud, and now that he had, they felt silly and small, like none of it mattered—like he didn’t matter.
“Oh!” Eliza inclined her head. “I see.”
“So. Not so similar after all.”
Eliza stood up and perched herself on the arm of his chair, looking down at him with soft eyes. “We do not have to use the same words or share the same definitions to be similar, to understand one another.”
Nathaniel suddenly found it difficult to swallow. “I don’t know if there’s even a word for it.”
Eliza chewed her lip. “I don’t want to presume—there are myriad ways to understand yourself, and as many words to describe it. You could be asexual, if you don’t experience sexual attraction. Or, if you don’t experience romantic attraction, you might be aromantic.”
“Could I be both?”
Eliza smiled. “You can be both, or neither, or different levels of each. The truly beautiful part is you have the rest of your life to decide—and if you never know or change your mind, that’s all right.”
“How do you know all this?” Nathaniel felt small in the wake of her vocabulary. Were these words he ought to know? Had her education on the Tower somehow prepared her to understand something he’d spent his whole life experiencing but never truly grasping?
“I’ve done quite a bit of reading on the subject. There’s not much else to do on the Tower, you know, besides attend parties with the same insipid group of nobles day in and day out.” She rolled her eyes. “As the Queen’s Eyes, I have special access to all sorts of documents written by the scholars of Former Earth. Luckily, they had quite a lot to say on the matter. There are entire volumes dedicated to different types of attraction, whole digital archives.” She gestured to the holocom, a smile on her face. “Maybe it’s silly, but having the vocabulary to describe what I felt made me feel less alone, made me feel like I wasn’t the only one.”
Nathaniel swallowed, trying the words she’d given him in his mind—he wasn’t yet ready to give them voice.
Asexual. Aromantic.
“Of course,” Eliza continued, a look of concern on her face, “language is limiting. Not all feelings can be described in a single word, and sometimes words aren’t enough. When I finally found a definition, it freed me. It’s all right if it’s not the same for you.”
“When did you know? About yourself, I mean?” Nathaniel gripped his knees, too nervous to do anything else.
“I don’t know, exactly,” Eliza said, eyes drifting. “It wasn’t so much a thing to know about myself as a thing to know about everyone else. I knew when the girls around me didn’t like other girls the way I did, and when boys didn’t understand why I wouldn’t step out with them.”
Nathaniel wrinkled his nose. “How awful.” He tried to imagine how it must feel for Eliza, to be seen so contrary to how she saw herself. But he didn’t have to stretch his imagination far. He, too, had been treated the same, expectations placed on his shoulders for a romantic future he never wanted.
“It was awful at times, yes. Still is, on occasion.” She gave him a pointed look.
“Oh, Eliza!” Nathaniel ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. This must be painful for you, too. I didn’t even think—this engagement—”
Eliza waved his concern away. “It isn’t your fault. When I became the Queen’s Eyes, I knew what I’d signed on for. My life stopped being my own the moment I entered her service. But even though she owns my actions, she doesn’t own my feelings. She might choose whom I marry, but no one can choose whom I love.”
“What is love like?”
He shivered, wondering when last he’d been loved. It was a different kind of love, the kind his mother might have felt for him, not the kind Eliza might feel for Anna. He knew the barbed love he still felt in some twisted, tainted way for his father, like the stump of a tree whose roots still wrapped firmly around his heart. Eliza and Anna, too, though he’d known them for only a short time, grew beside him as small sprouts, barely peeking out of the earth. He knew a kind of love. It was painful, but it was real.
“Romantic love, I mean,” he clarified.
Eliza took a breath, but then she paused on the cusp of words before exhaling. “That’s a complicated question, and it’s different for everyone, and different with everyone. No two loves are exactly the same, just like stars in the sky.”
“You’ve been in love more than once?”
“No. Just once.” Eliza cast her eyes to the side as though searching for something. “She was wondrous and brave, and I let her go. I traded our love for power and status, so maybe it wasn’t really love after all.”
For the first time since he’d met her, Eliza wasn’t in motion, charging toward a finish line he couldn’t see. For this moment, she was still, as if she’d left her body behind to be somewhere else.
“Do you regret it?” Nathaniel asked without thinking. “I’m sorry—that was rude.”
“No, it’s all right. I don’t give much credence to regret. I can’t go back and change what’s done. All I can do is take what I learned and do better next time. So yes, yes I regret it. And I’ll do better next time.”
“So … Anna?”
Eliza’s eyes came back to life, and her cheeks reddened. “What about her?”
“I think you two make a good match.” Nathaniel raised his eyebrows.
“I don’t know yet,” Eliza said, but she couldn’t hold back a smile. “That’s part of the fun of it—it could be something, or perhaps we’ll never find out. Either way, it’s valuable time, and worth every second, even if it has to end eventually.”
“I’m sorry,” Nathaniel said, his face falling. His hand found hers, no longer so averse to her touch now the lines had been drawn. “If our engagement is the reason it has to end, I—”
“Don’t be silly!” Eliza cut him off. “We’re only engaged. We have plenty of time to call off the wedding. But we ought to wait at least until we’ve tasted a few sample cakes,” she said with a wink. “Don’t you agree?”
Anna had never felt this way before—short of breath, a tight knot in her stomach, and ever so warm.
Truly, her dress was too tight.
It didn’t help that Eliza’s gaze followed her everywhere around the grand ballroom. Not that she minded, exactly, but she wished Eliza would touch her with more than just her eyes. It was beginning to aggravate, all the flitting glances, the catching one another looking at the other, the endless eye contact as each wordlessly dared the other to break first.
But Anna wouldn’t break first. She’d learned her lesson at the ripe age of thirteen when she’d kissed Billy Harmon behind the storehouse. It hadn’t mattered that he’d kissed her back. All anyone talked about for the next three weeks were Anna’s lips, and she had no intention of repeating the experience. She’d spent more than enough time resenting Billy Harmon; she didn’t want to resent Eliza, too.
Of course, she might resent her anyway if she had to stay in this ballroom for much longer. She had a job to do, and standing around trying to avoid dancing with strangers certainly wasn’t it. If only she could catch Nathaniel’s eye to signal him to slip away, but as the focus of the night’s festivities, he’d been difficult to separate from well-wisher
s.
“Enjoying yourself?” Eliza’s voice set Anna’s ears aflame.
“Not in the slightest.”
Anna turned, and it was all she could do not to gape. From across the room, Eliza had certainly been eye-catching, her dress a glittering starscape on deep purple silk. But now Anna could see crystals had been sewn into the fabric in a mesmerizing floral pattern. It was the kind of extravagance Anna usually detested, but she hated herself even more for wanting to run her finger along the path of crystals winding across Eliza’s bodice.
“You look like a princess,” Anna breathed, not meaning to speak at all.
“Thank you. And you look …” Eliza’s eyes traveled the length of Anna’s form. “Presentable.”
Anna narrowed her eyes. “I don’t need to be presentable—I need to be investigating, breaking and entering, ransacking this place for the answers we need,” she growled. “I don’t understand why you and Nathaniel couldn’t just serve as the distraction.”
“And what will you say when an officer or rogue party guest catches you wandering the halls on your own? No one will believe a pretty thing like you just ventured off to explore without an escort.” Eliza sighed, reaching forward.
For a split second, Anna thought she was about to touch her and braced for impact, still not fully recovered from the last time Eliza had been this close. But Eliza bypassed her entirely, plucking a frosted pink square from the table next to Anna’s elbow.
“Besides, it would be a shame to go through all the trouble of lacing you into that dress only for no one to see it.”
Anna’s cheeks turned a shade to match the dessert in Eliza’s gloved hand. “You aren’t worried about the implications? It is your dress, after all.” If wearing Nathaniel’s clothes would provoke gossip, what would the courtiers say if they knew she wore their hostess’s dress?
Eliza paused with the confection inches from her lips. “Worried? No.”
Anna’s throat constricted. Of course Eliza wasn’t worried—why would she be? A lady’s maid wearing her mistress’s dress wouldn’t cause a scandal. It was probably expected. Anna—the real outlaw mechanic or the fictitious lady’s maid—could not afford such luxuries. Besides, it was preposterous to think a girl like Eliza and a girl like Anna …
But a twinkle glinted in Eliza’s eye, not unlike the crystals on her dress. “I find it rather delights me,” she said, reaching for another cake. This time, she paused with her pinkie pressed against Anna’s forearm. “A pity my dance card’s all filled up. I so would love to shock our guests tonight by taking you for a spin around the dance floor.”
Anna didn’t have time to tell Eliza that she didn’t know how to dance before they were interrupted.
“Eliza, my dear. I do hope you’re enjoying yourself.” An older gentleman approached, giving Eliza a short bow.
Eliza turned to welcome the newcomer. “I can see you spared no expense.”
“Nothing but the best for my future daughter-in-law.”
Anna’s stomach dropped out from under her. It was the Commissioner. She had never seen him in person, but she’d know his face anywhere. Sharp nose, high cheekbones, and dimpled chin: He was Nathaniel’s double, with salt-and-pepper hair and a crease in his forehead. Except for the eyes, which shone like polished steel.
Of all the times and all the places for Anna to finally come face-to-face with her enemy, she’d never expected to be wearing such a ludicrous outfit.
A uniformed officer approached, and Anna took in a sharp breath. Perhaps he’d come to fetch the Commissioner. He would lure him away to some other corner of the ballroom, and Anna would be left alone to breathe like a normal person again. Yes, everything would go as planned.
But after the officer bowed, he didn’t address the Commissioner. “My lady, I do believe you promised me this dance.” He held out his hand to Eliza.
To Anna’s horror, Eliza took it. “Of course. Lead the way!”
And with that, she left Anna alone to face the Commissioner.
The Commissioner watched them go, a cold smile sewn onto his face, before catching Anna’s eye. “It’s all quite good, you know,” the Commissioner said, gesturing at the colorful confections beside her. “We don’t skimp on the refreshments, no matter how inane the occasion.”
Anna nodded and picked up a cream puff, if only to give her hands something to do. Left to her own devices, she feared she might strangle him in front of all his guests. She’d certainly have stabbed him, if not for the absence of readily available cutlery.
The Commissioner leaned against the wall beside her, searching her with sharp eyes. His gaze lingered on her left shoulder—where her TICCER lay beneath the surface. Though the acoustics in the ballroom sent the orchestral music soaring around the room, all Anna could hear was the loud ticking of her heart. Could the Commissioner hear it, too? Could he sense the steel?
Without meaning to, Anna’s free hand rose to cover her heart, as if she could shield it from view, and her finger snagged on the freshly sewn tear. The Commissioner couldn’t see her TICCER after all—he was not some all-knowing mind reader, only a snob.
“I apologize for my rudeness, but have we met before?” he asked finally. “I’ve been laughably out of touch with society these past few months, and I fear I’ve missed a whole new crop of young ladies coming out this season. Do I know your family?”
Anna choked on her own tongue. The Commissioner did, indeed, know her family—or at least he’d known them at one point or another. Thatcher had once saved Nathaniel’s life, and as thanks, the Commissioner had murdered Anna’s mother and father. Could he see her grandfather reflected in her freckled nose and cloudy eyes the way she saw Nathaniel, filtered through cruelty and confidence?
“No, I don’t think so,” Anna squeaked.
“That’s a relief. I haven’t had time for the usual rounds of social calls. I’ve been so tied up with this and that—especially this outbreak of tech in the city.” He reached for another cream puff, not bothering to excuse his reach, blocking Anna in.
“Outbreak?” Anna repeated, more to herself than to the Commissioner. Certainly, she’d made inroads over the last few years, managing to smuggle tech into every corner of the Settlement, and she knew it irked the Commissioner enough to put out a warrant for her arrest, but to hear the Commissioner speak about it himself—well, the part of her that wanted to run would have to contend with the part of her that wanted to bask in her success.
“That damn Technician got a jump on me this year, but I’ll find him, mark my words,” the Commissioner said. “Old man can’t evade me forever. We’ve both been at this too long, but I’ll catch him, in the end. Or outlive him.” He laughed, cold and hard. “Soon, very soon.”
Anna tried to keep her face placid, but behind her painfully taut forehead, her mind churned. The Commissioner didn’t suspect her after all; he thought her an old man, and it didn’t take a genius to guess why. The Commissioner didn’t know her, but he knew her grandfather.
“What did you say your name was, again?” the Commissioner asked.
Anna shoved the whole cream puff into her mouth.
“What a fast song!” Eliza sashayed toward them, waving her dance card in the air. “It’s the Viennese waltz, and I believe you’re quite promised to me, Commissioner!”
“Rightly so.” The Commissioner bowed, then turned to Anna. “Do excuse me.”
“Anna, go to my fiancé and make sure he finds me in time for the quickstep. It’s in twelve songs.” As Eliza led the Commissioner away, Anna heard her explain under her breath, “My lady-in-waiting—still breaking her in somewhat, but she’ll do for now.”
Twelve songs wouldn’t last long. Anna guessed they had less than an hour to break into the Commissioner’s study and find whatever they were looking for. That didn’t leave much time, and Anna wasted none of it, rudely extricating Nathaniel from the ballroom, much to his well-wishers’ disappointment.
“Go! Go!” Anna urged him
on under her breath.
“I’m going!” he shot back, slipping through the door before she could push him out.
Anna waited a few ticks before following.
“Lead on,” she whispered. “Eliza’s bought us some time, but not much. If you can get me into the office quickly, we’ll have about half an hour.”
It took them longer than Anna would have liked to reach the Commissioner’s office, their progress slowed by Nathaniel’s insistence they look as natural as possible. He, like Eliza, thought others would be less suspicious if it appeared he was giving her a tour of some sort. They passed several guests in the halls, yet none of them paid them any mind, though Anna was loathe to give Nathaniel credit.
Once the office door clicked shut behind them, Nathaniel said, “All right, the holocom should be in his desk, right?”
Anna paused on the threshold. The last time she’d been in this office, she’d been under arrest, and Nathaniel had been the one to put her there. She couldn’t help but wish Eliza had accompanied her, not Nathaniel.
Crossing the room, Anna tugged open the drawer.
There was nothing inside. She stared at the empty drawer for a moment before looking back up at Nathaniel. “It’s not here.”
Nathaniel joined her. “Are you sure this is where you found it?”
“Yes, there was a pile of pens and such, too. Where did he put it all?” Anna glanced around, but her own words gave her pause. She could excuse the holocom’s absence easily enough, but the Commissioner had moved the entire contents of his drawer.
“He uses it frequently to communicate with the Queen. Could be he’s carrying the holocom with him.”
Anna’s heart sank. There would be no separating the Commissioner from the holocom in that case. They were back to square one with nothing to go on, minutes wasted searching for something they wouldn’t find. Dropping into the Commissioner’s chair, Anna looked up at the ceiling, following the wooden beams with her eyes. There had to be something in this office she could use, some hint or some clue to help them bring this man down.
