“That does sound like you,” Hector says to me.

“I . . .” No use denying it. “I did say that. To one of my tutors.” The words almost catch in my throat. I messed everything up. All that hard work, and it was tossed away with a few careless words. “I’m so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing!” Elisa snaps. Then, to Mara, “That can’t be all of it. Many people in this country are not that devout. Nothing about her being half Invierno?”

“Nothing so far. That anyone will admit to, anyway,” Mara says. “But yes, there is another factor. As you suspected, your pregnancy is no longer a secret. So the pressure to produce an heir through adoption was greatly diminished, your past difficulties notwithstanding.”

“So, news of the pregnancy, coupled with rumors of Red’s atheism, made her a disqualified candidate,” says Conde Juan-Carlos. Do I imagine that his voice holds a hint of satisfaction?

“We can try again next year,” Tristán says. “Shore up support. We’ll think of a way to get that two-thirds majority.”

“The girl will have to prove herself,” the General says. “Prove her patriotism.”

“She has proven herself enough,” Elisa says. “She has been proving herself, over and over since the day we found her in that village.”

“Not to the people in that audience chamber, apparently,” the General says.

Hector is shaking his head. “A two-thirds majority is impossible. Too many want to return to the past, even if it’s a past in ruins.”

“We’ll figure it out later,” Tristán says.

“Yes,” Hector says. “For now, we need to keep her safe.”

“She’ll be safest with you, on the road to Orovalle,” Lord-Commander Dante says. “A few Guards will stay behind to protect Prince Rosario and oversee the annual recruitment, but most of my best men will be traveling in state.”

“It’s settled, then,” Conde Tristán says. “Red will pack up and leave with—”

I clear my throat. “Maybe . . . that is . . . do I get a say in any of this?”

Elisa appears horrified. “Oh, my sky, we were talking right over your head, weren’t we? I used to hate it when everyone did that to me.”

“Your thoughts on this are most welcome,” Hector assures me.

I’m not sure what my thoughts are, except that I hate failing. I hate that everyone is disappointed. And running away doesn’t feel right. As a little girl, I ran a lot. Too much. In my nightmares, I’m still running, still scared.

Elisa is searching my face. Mara gives me an encouraging nod. It’s so hot is this room I can hardly breathe. I don’t know how Elisa can stand it.

“Red?” Rosario prompts.

Finally I say, “I’m done running. It’s time to stand my ground.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know they’re right. If I keep running, I’ll keep being scared. I have to face the next thing, whatever it is.

“Standing one’s ground is often the last gasp of a dying defense,” the General says.