He kneels, and he’s old enough that it costs him something. I watch him wipe dust from my mother’s grave. “I ask this of you, Adrian. Rise. Stand up. Show our people true freedom.”

Chapter 6: Dreams and Nightmares

You spend the whole morning surrounded by publicists. Statements are drafted and dismissed. The critics are still flocking and frenzied. Your most suggestive photos are being paraded on every news channel, half screened with the blurred faces of your accusers. There’s nothing shocking about what they say. It is how men have always seen you, and dreamed of you, and wanted you. The accusations are welcomed by other men who will never get to dance with you, or taste your lips, or know your bed. The rumors work because they’re feeding the desperate what they’ve always wanted and could never have.

Your publicists turn away thirty-seven interview offers. Money slips back into the pockets of certain sponsors who are pulling out amidst the storm. They forget that dark clouds and strong winds only mean lightning’s about to strike. You know they’ll want back in when you’re illuminating the whole damn sky, but you will not forget and you will not forgive.

You’re far more worried about Bravos. He sends you a single text from his public phone:

if it wasn’t true, you would have denied it, right? finding out this way? c’mon.

That’s the text the hackers will pull and parade around the Chats. The two of you have given them little tastes just like it ever since the fake breakup. That was always the plan.

Feed the public, let the other racers think you’d split, and then win the Races together. Bravos can’t hold a candle to you when it comes to riding or alchemy, but he’s one of the top duelers in Furia. Together, you’d have taken first and second place easily, but now you’re not sure if his recent message is part of the plan or a sign of actual anger, because you know he’s right. You didn’t tell him about the beholder shots and you feel so guilty about it.

As the publicists flap around like caged birds, you keep checking your burner phone. But Bravos hasn’t texted and you know he’s been awake for hours now. It has you half worried and half furious, because you actually love him. Bravos is the one man you want to dance with you, to taste your lips. The idea of losing him to Furia’s hungry circuit of false rumors is enough to make your teeth grind.

Evening arrives and your head publicist, Zeta, has two action plans for you.