“Did you order more search parties?” Anika asked. “We can’t let them keep killing us. We’ve got to find them.” There was little animation in her face; she’d been subdued since the vote. Serina ached for her. She understood, better than most, the agony Anika felt knowing she had to leave her family behind.

Serina shook her head. “No new search parties… but I want more women on the southern gate tonight. Val, can we spare the ammunition for a markswoman to help patrol?”

Serina glanced at Val. He stood near the fountain, splitting his attention between the conversation and the shadows beyond the clearing. He’d been like that ever since Nero and Diego had evaded them—watchful.

They were all on edge.

“I’ll check our ammunition after our markswomen finish today’s training,” he said, without commenting on whether he thought it was a good idea. Aside from logistical questions and suggestions on where to search for Nero and Diego, he kept his opinions to himself. She appreciated that, even as she found herself occasionally wishing he would tell her what he thought she should do.

She’d never made so many decisions as she had over the past week. She’d been raised to believe men were the decision makers of her world. Her job was to look pretty and keep her mouth shut. Oracle had fought a lot of that training out of her, but Serina couldn’t erase it all. She couldn’t erase her history, any more than she could reveal Viridia’s.

The fact that this country had once been ruled by women didn’t make it easier for her to lead now. Her instincts were to defer. To submit.

She took a deep breath. With enough practice, her instincts would change.

“Anika, I need you to join the southern patrol,” she said with one of her placating Grace smiles. “I trust you to keep everyone safe.”

“Fine.” Anika turned to Val. “I’m taking a firearm. If I see either of those monsters, I’m shooting them.” She stalked off without giving him a chance to answer.

Serina and Val moved the dead girl into the corner of the ruined lobby with the body of a woman who’d died of an infection that morning. They would take them both to the volcano at dawn.

By implicit agreement, they headed into the hotel, to the room where the rations were kept, where they could have a few moments alone.

“You cut your hair,” Val said. He slipped a hand through the ends, and his smile was so kind and sweet Serina forgot to feel self-conscious.

As easily as a breath, she moved into the circle of his arms. She rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Tired. Worried.”