“I’m curious to meet him,” I say lightly. After all, Luka and I came here for safety. It can’t hurt to make his acquaintance—the fact that I’ve smuggled non-Progeny contraband into his court notwithstanding.

“Audra,” Claudia says, grabbing me by the arm as Luka excuses himself. Her hand is cold. “Be careful.”

“I will.” I’m always careful. We all are. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I’ve seen him send people away. Or worse, to Nikola for judgment. They don’t come back.”

I think of my own disappearance. Of Katia’s, and Ivan’s. Claudia is used to people leaving her life. And I know that her bitchiness the day I met her in Opatija was nothing deeper than hurt. I kiss her cheek. “I’m not leaving,” I say.

But as she goes out to the kitchen, it’s my turn to be uneasy. Tibor knows me, or of me. These are Progeny, with the same blood I have. And my mother is an underground legend. But Luka is the enemy. Is it possible Tibor knows or suspects what Luka might be—what he was?

The thought works at me until my cavalier attitude about meeting the Prince of Zagreb is all but eaten away.

A few minutes later Luka steps inside the bedroom and quietly closes the door. I drop the clothes in my hand, lean into his chest.

For days, everything has been perfect. Too perfect. From the frenzy of court and my heightened awareness of Luka’s every glance to his weight against me in bed at dawn. One long night of delirium and desire.

Luka’s right; a week is a lot longer than passports should take. Not with a man supposedly on the inside.

Luka touches a kiss to my shoulder, inhales the scent of my neck.

“Don’t come tonight,” I say.

“They’ll notice if I don’t and know you’re protecting me.”

Piotrek, Claudia, and I have been careful to flank Luka each time we enter the underground and in every dash throughout the city with others. Claudia has done this despite her doubts, and I am grateful.

“If I leave to meet him, don’t follow me.”

“Audra—”

“You can’t! And if you see anyone trying to single you out, get away.” When he says nothing, I add, “Promise me.”

“I promise. But only if Piotrek goes with you.”

I nod. I can live with that.

“Trust me when I say I have a whole new appreciation for what it means to be you,” he murmurs.

I let out a slow breath, not wanting to remember.