Prince Caelan stands in front of me, more regal than I’ve ever seen him. His white hair is combed back neatly, a series of silver leaves strategically placed at the sides of his temples and curling around his brow. Silver dust feathers out below his eyes, creating the image of a mask without having to hide his face. And on his head sits his crown of silver branches.

I curtsy, low and sincere. “I’m so sorry, Your Highness. I didn’t see you.”

Caelan reaches a hand down and lifts me closer to him, sweeping a hand behind me in one easy movement before turning me toward the crowd. Before I even realize it, the two of us are dancing, our bodies close together, our faces nearly touching.

I can’t pull my eyes away from his, even though the silver makes me feel cold. Not because Caelan’s cold, but because when I’m near him, everything starts to feel real.

Final.

I wish I could ask for forgiveness. To tell him that I didn’t have a choice. It’s humans or Residents. Only one can survive; only one can exist in Infinity.

And I choose humans. I choose the family I’ve found below the ground, hidden in the shadows of the Colony. I choose the strangers whose eyes can’t see what mine do, who live in servants’ quarters and market stalls; the strangers in War and Famine and Death, who fight until they can’t.

I choose Gil.

I choose a world for Mei.

I choose me. Nami, not Naoko. Not this person I’ve been pretending to be.

Prince Caelan smiles at me, and we move in time with the music like birds taking flight. And I know he wouldn’t forgive me. Not for taking his freedom before it was ever really his.

I force a smile back, gazing up at him with all the innocence I can muster.

“You’re wearing my colors.”

“I thought it was only appropriate,” I reply.

“They look beautiful on you.” His breath grazes my cheek.

My eyes slip to his mouth and the way it curves with so much kindness.

He never belonged in this world, I tell myself. He’s not a real person.

But then why does he feel so warm?

“When this is all over, I’d like to take you somewhere,” he says. “If you’ll allow me, that is.”

When this is all over.

I swallow. “I’m at your service, Your Highness.”

“No,” he says, and I hear the urgency in his voice. His hand tenses at my back. “Please don’t say yes if it’s because I’m your prince. Say yes only if you want to.” His mouth softens. “So many people treat me a certain way because of duty. I don’t want that from you.”