“Naturally.”

He grabs the rattle from my left palm and lifts it high for the crowd to see. “Recruit Red is going to protect the empress with a baby rattle!” he says, and a wave of polite laughter sweeps over us.

But the recruits aren’t laughing. They’re staring at my hand. Because by lifting away the baby rattle, the sergeant revealed my third item: a thumb-sized gemstone of glorious sapphire blue. But it is no mere sapphire.

“Holy God,” Aldo says.

A recruit down the line whistles appreciatively.

DeLuca spins back around, my rattle clattering in his hand. His confused look is quickly replaced by shock. “Is that . . . ?”

“A Godstone,” I confirm. “A gift from a friend.”

The Inviernos would call it an anima-lapis. The most valuable commodity in the world. And Empress Elisa is the only person known to have a collection of them.

The Guard takes a step back.

“It’s not going to hurt you,” I tell him, which must be the worst possible thing to say, because something hot and angry flits across his face. Like maybe he hates me.

Slowly, carefully, he places the baby rattle back into my palm, covering up the Godstone. He says, in a voice so low only my fellow recruits can hear, “She is not here to help you now.”

It’s a threat, clear as day. I can’t let it go.

“She is not, sir. And even if she were, she would not help me. I’m to succeed or fail on my own, like any other recruit.”

He blinks. “A pretty speech.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He dismisses me with a shrug and moves down the line, pausing at each recruit to level mild insults and intimidation. Aldo is too small, even smaller than “the little girl.” The boy with quick, dark eyes is the son of a traitor, and DeLuca will be watching him. The army recruit who tried to look down my shirt brought a soft coral blanket with a fringe as one of his three items; the sergeant tells him it’s fit for a real princess.

If I were Elisa, I’d listen closely to every single one, get to know my fellow recruits, evaluate them silently and begin to strategize. But I’m not Elisa, and DeLuca isn’t clever with his slurs, and I find the whole thing tedious.

When he’s at the opposite end of the line, I can barely hear him talking, which is a small relief. The sun is starting to beat against my skin. Sweat dampens the nape of my neck.

“You shouldn’t have brought a Godstone,” Aldo whispers.

He might be right. I should have brought a warm blanket, like Aldo and the army boy did. “Why not?” I whisper back.

“DeLuca has sworn his life and honor to the empress. And you’ve just proven that you’re closer to her than he’ll ever be.”

“So?”

“You’ve made him feel bad. And look bad. He’ll take it out on you.”

“Why is it my job to make him feel good about himself?”