I’ve been standing in line for almost fifteen minutes when a hand wraps around my arm and tugs me out of line.

“Wha—?” I glance up at Will, the general’s son. He’s handsome, has the dirtiest sense of humor, and he’s responsible for getting me into trouble over the last five years. If circumstances were different, we might have dated, married, then had kids. But this isn’t the world my grandparents grew up in.

“Did you have to pull me out of line?”

His face is serious, but his eyes shine excitedly. “The representatives want to see you—your father himself sent me here to get you.”

Instantly my mood changes from annoyed to suspicious. “Why? What’s going on?” The people near me glance in our direction.

Will’s eyes flick to them before returning to me. “Not here, Serenity,” he says quietly.

I look longingly at the cooks serving up oatmeal and accept the fact that I’m going to go hungry for the rest of the day.

I nod. “’Kay, I’ll bite.” I’m curious what put the twinkle in Will’s eyes.

I follow him down the dimly lit halls until we arrive at the bunker’s conference room. This is where the American representatives of the Western United Nations gather. The WUN is a collection of countries that make up North and South America. It’s a coalition that’s been fighting the eastern hemisphere for almost fifteen years.

Not the eastern hemisphere, I think darkly. King Montes Lazuli.

When we stop outside the room, I can’t help but swallow. The last time I was called in here on official business, the representatives had decided that I would begin training as the next emissary. My father currently holds the role. Poor Will has been training to become the next general for even longer than I have. I don’t envy him, but I’m also guessing that no one envies me. If we lose the war, we’ll likely be killed or imprisoned.

Not that the thought scares me. I’m already dying.

Will knocks on the door, and a moment later my father opens it. He smiles, but there’s a tension that pinches the corners of his eyes. “Serenity, glad you could join us,” he says. He nods to Will and opens the door for us both to enter.

Unlike me, Will’s now required to attend these meetings with the representatives. I consider it a blessing that I haven’t yet been asked to sit in on them, but judging by the assessing looks I’m receiving as I step inside, I have a horrible feeling that is all about to change.

The two dozen men and women seated around the table are all that remains of our political leaders. King Lazuli has killed off most of the presidential line of succession. We who live in this bunker are all that’s left.