Inside, Roth and I are escorted upstairs, where a set of double doors open into a room with several elites crowded around an oblong table. Behind them is a wall of windows that overlook a lake at the back of the mansion. I recognize most of them—including my math teacher, Mr. Val—and several of the shadow knights who circle the table. Their wings are exposed, weapons gleaming. I’m the only knight-in-training. Everyone else has been ranked, given a specialty—techs, medics, weapons, tracking, commands. I can tell because of the colors of their threads and how they decorate their uniforms.

As we enter, everyone in the room stands and salutes. That’s when I realize Roth and I are the last to arrive. I follow everyone’s example, though it causes me physical pain, and salute Roth, falling into rank on the opposite side of the room next to my father. And although he tries to catch my gaze, I avoid it.

“Successor Roth,” Elite Cain says. “We are so sorry to hear of your father’s ailing health.”

Roth offers a curt nod, and his jaw tightens. It’s the first time I’ve seen Roth react to his father’s decline, and I get the sense this might be harder on him than I thought.

Roth moves to the middle of the table but does not sit.

“Shall we begin?” he asks, scanning the room, and I recognize his training kicking into gear. He’s assessing, deciding who’s a threat and who’s not. That move sets me on edge. “I’ve called this meeting to discuss the Order’s efforts to locate the Eurydice.”

Chapter Fourteen

Anora and the Game

On Friday, there’s an electricity in the air, spreading excitement like a current. Even I find it contagious—and I’m only going to the game to give myself an excuse to look for my coin. The halls are decorated with blue and white streamers, and large butcher paper signs read like declarations of battle. It’s also, apparently, the only day we don’t have to wear our uniforms—a memo I missed. As I walk the hall, black knee-high tights covering my legs, people stare. Two girls continue past me, then turn to whisper to one another.

Did I miss something on Roundtable?

Or is this the result of my friendship with Lily?

Maybe both.

“Hey!” I twist to face Lennon, who is dressed in a blue-and-silver Nacoma Knight shirt, a black skirt, and another oversized cardigan that hangs to her knees. A large blue bow sits atop her ponytail at an angle.

“Do I have something on my face?” I ask.

She studies me for a moment. “No. Why?”

“Because I feel like everyone’s staring at me.”

“Oh,” she says. “You’re probably not imagining that.”