Needless to say, Mum’s delighted when I ask if I can go to the O’Garas’ house to study Tuesday evening.
“And the Sovereign might be there, too? Such an honor! I was certain she wouldn’t hold our slip-up against us. So very gracious of her to help you catch up on your coursework. Of course you must go.”
The O’Garas’ house is a lot smaller—and shabbier—than I expect, but Molly greets me cheerfully while showing me into an equally small and shabby living room. Sean wasn’t kidding about them not being rich, even though they’re Royal. Molly sits in one squashy chair and I sit in another, at right angles to hers.
“M was hoping to be here,” she says, “but there’s a meeting out at NuAgra tonight, something about the new communication network and how to make sure it’s secure enough. Mum and Dad are there, too.”
“So it’s just the two of us?” Mum will be disappointed, but I’m not. At least, not because M couldn’t come.
“For now, anyway. Sean should be home soon but we can go ahead and get started.”
Though my heart speeds up a fraction, I keep my expression carefully neutral. I’d hate for Molly to get the idea I have a thing for her brother. Because I don’t. Besides, Molly might be easier to get info out of, after the way I went off on Sean about Royals and traditions on Sunday.
“We can work on French first, since Sean takes Spanish, and wait till he gets home to start on Government.” She slants a look at me. “If that’s what you really want to talk about?”
I blink. “What do you mean?”
Grinning, she lifts a shoulder. “Last year, when we first moved to Jewel, M used to come over to ‘tutor’ us.” She makes quotes in the air with her fingers. “But we mostly used the time to answer all her questions about Nuath and Martian traditions and politics and stuff. You obviously know all that, but I thought you might have questions about other stuff, maybe about people at school? Of course, if you’d rather study…”
“No!” Because there’s something I do want to ask before Sean gets home. “I mean, I’m actually okay on the French curriculum. Not so much on the Government stuff, but—”
I break off. Then, in a rush, “Molly, I’ve been wondering. Sean acts like it’s no big deal that the Sovereign—M—is back together with Rigel. Like it doesn’t bother him. But it seems like it would have to.”
Molly’s grin disappears and she suddenly looks more serious than I’ve ever seen her. “It does. I know it does. Maybe not as much as it used to, and he’s gotten better at hiding it lately, but…yeah. When it does show, I never let on I notice. Because he really doesn’t have a choice, you know? And he’s trying so hard…”
“Are you upset about it? For his sake, I mean. Plus…other reasons, the ones everyone’s been talking about.”
“I was last year, when we first got here. Nobody told us in advance—told Sean—that M was dating anyone, so it was kind of a shock when we found out. He…didn’t take it very well, especially at first. Gave Rigel a really hard time. The two of them nearly got in a fight at least once. But that was before Uncle Allister spilled the beans about the whole Consort thing at Rigel’s birthday party.”
“Allister Adair?” I couldn’t imagine him being that careless. “In front of Duchas? Or was it just—?”
“Oh, no, he waited until they were all gone, but it was still a huge thing to spring on M and Rigel, that she was expected to pair up with Sean instead. Mum was really ticked at Uncle Allister for his timing, and being so tactless. Now I think of it, he was probably lucky M and Rigel didn’t accidentally hurt him, as upset as they were.”
“Hurt him? What do you mean? How?”
“Oh, um…” Like I have with Sean a couple of times, I get the impression she said more than she intended. “I just meant—”
She’s interrupted by Sean’s voice, from the back of the house. “Anyone home?”
“In here,” Molly calls back, looking relieved.
A moment later he ambles in, his copper hair windblown. The look suits him. When he sees me, he freezes for a second.
“Oh, um, hey.” He smiles at me but his ears go a shade pinker than they were.
“Kira just got here a couple minutes ago,” Molly tells him. “We haven’t started on any school stuff yet.”
He pulls the wooden desk chair over and sits facing both of us. “Good, because I, um, wanted to talk about something else before Mum and Dad get back. Kira, on Sunday you almost made it sound like you thought we’d be better off without the monarchy. Is that what you really meant?”
Molly’s eyebrows go up, her gray eyes snapping back to me. I try to choose my words carefully, determined not to mess up such a perfect opportunity. If I can open their eyes, get them to see past their preconceptions, they both could be a huge help in changing other people’s minds.
“I, ah, just meant that we owe it to ourselves to explore all the options before assuming the way we’ve always done things is automatically the best way. You have to have noticed none of the more advanced Earth civilizations still have hereditary rulers. There’s a reason. Democracy, with leaders popularly elected by the people, almost always makes a country more stable and prosperous.”
To my surprise, Molly chuckles. “Wow, you sound just like M. When we first explained about the Nuathan monarchy last year, she thought it sounded impossibly archaic. Couldn’t believe a society as advanced as ours still had one. We had a time convincing her the Sovereigns had done a great job for centuries, before Faxon came along.”
“But did they, really?” I counter. “We were obviously better off under Leontine than we were under Faxon, but a lot of people must have been dissatisfied with the status quo even then. Otherwise, why would they have started following Faxon in the first place?”
“Because he fed them lies.” Sean’s tone is uncompromising. “He did everything he could to stir up dissension by telling people they were being denied their rights by the Royals. Which they weren’t. Everyone already had a voice in our government, through the Eodain. And no one ever went without food or shelter or any other real necessities under the Sovereigns.”
Luckily, I have a Populist talking point for exactly this. “Maybe not necessities, but you can’t pretend those in the lower fines enjoyed the same luxuries those in the Royal and Science fines did.”
“You’re sounding like M again.” Molly’s grin widens. “Remember, Sean, at that dinner with all the Royals on the Quintessence, when we were on our way to Mars?”
“Yeah, but Dad set her straight.”
I look from one of them to the other. “What do you mean? The Sovereign herself suggested—?”
“She wasn’t Sovereign yet, but yeah,” Molly confirms. “Honestly, if she weren’t, well, who she is, she might have joined the Anti-Royals herself. Before they started getting violent, anyway. You should have seen how upset she was when those protesters in Bailerealta were hauled off.”
“Protesters?” I don’t remember that from the news feeds. “Populist protesters, you mean? The Populists have never been violent.”
Sean huffs out a breath. “Those weren’t violent, no. They just shouted anti-Royal stuff from the back of the crowd while she was trying to give a speech. But others are, like that guy they sent to kill her a few weeks back.”
I shake my head, frowning. “That can’t have been a real Populist. He was probably some Faxon supporter who claimed to be a Populists after he was caught. Maybe even a rival Royal. I’ve read the whole Populist platform and it doesn’t condone any kind of violence.”
“Of course they don’t condone it publicly,” Sean says patiently, like I’m an ignorant child. “That doesn’t mean they’re above using it covertly, if they think it’s the quickest way to achieve their ends. Every movement has its radicals. The Anti-Royals seem to have more than most.”
His piercing look implies he suspects I might be one of those.
“I’m no radical,” I quickly—and truthfully—assure him. “I’d never want M physically harmed. Especially if it’s true that she holds views I agree with.” My expression must show I doubt that, because Sean leans toward me earnestly.
“Kira, you have to believe M only wants what’s best for our people. She would never have agreed to become Sovereign in the first place if the Council hadn’t convinced her Nuath could end up in a civil war if she didn’t. Different factions were already starting to form, to fill the power vacuum created when Faxon was ousted.”
“He’s right,” Molly chimes in. “I don’t know how many times I’ve heard her complain about all the pomp and ceremony and privileges that go with being Sovereign. She even hated wearing all those gorgeous clothes she got to wear in Nuath—said they were impractical and pretentious.”
By now I’m not sure what to believe. “Then why did she work so hard to get Acclaimed? Why didn’t she try to hand over leadership to someone like Crevan Erc, if everything you’re telling me is true? He’s the one most in line with what you claim she believes.”
Sean and Molly exchange a glance, then Molly gives a little shrug. “I guess it’s not really a secret anymore, is it?”
“That part is, I think,” he replies just as cryptically, a crease between his brows as he looks at his sister.
“I don’t see why,” she argues. “There can’t have been any more, um, hiccups, or we’d have heard about it.”
“Hiccups?” I echo, looking back and forth between them. “Like that kiss caught on camera that nearly derailed her Acclamation?”
Sean flicks a glance at me. “No, nothing like that.” Then, to Molly, “If the media found out and publicized the whole story, it could still cause panic in Nuath.”
“I won’t tell the Nuathan media anything. I don’t even know how to contact them. What’s this big secret?” I demand.
Sean doesn’t reply, still frowning thoughtfully at his sister. Too curious to think better of it, I reach over and touch his forearm to get his attention.
It definitely works. Even as I snatch my hand back, he whips his head around to stare at me. Because that was no regular taghal ardus! Not only wasn’t it our first touch, this zing was noticeably stronger than the last one was.
“The, um, reason M needed to get Acclaimed when she did,” Sean says. Though he’s clearly trying to hide his instinctive reaction from Molly, her interested gaze flicks back and forth between us.
“I still think we should tell her,” she says, getting to her feet. “But you’ll have to do all the explaining yourself, Sean, because I just remembered I need to make some phone calls. Cheerleading stuff.” With a bright smile, she hurries out of the room, leaving Sean and me alone.
“So, are you going to tell me?” I prompt, determined not to let him see how freaked out I was by that touch.
He looks at me warily. “Don’t you think we’d better talk about that, er, other thing while Molly’s busy?”
I can feel my cheeks warming. I’m tempted to say, “What other thing?” but that would be cowardly. “I guess you felt it in the gym, too?”
“Yeah. I tried to convince myself I imagined it, but—”
“So did I. Or at least that it was no more than that first touch thing people our age sometimes get. Just now, though…”
He looks more uncomfortable than ever. “Definitely different. The, um, only other person who’s ever given me a jolt like that is M.”
“The Sovereign? Oh, because you and she were supposed to—?”
“That’s what I assumed. In fact, I sort of expected it the first time we touched, though she obviously didn’t.”
No reason she would, if she didn’t know anything about the Consort tradition yet.
“She felt it, too,” he continues, “but because of Rigel she tried to pretend she didn’t. When she finally did admit it, she claimed what she got from him was way stronger. I didn’t believe her for a long time, but…I guess it was true. Especially since lately—since getting back to Jewel, I mean—whatever she and I had keeps getting weaker. Probably because she’s back with Rigel.”
I regard him uncertainly. “So…is this some Royal thing?” I’d wondered, on Sunday.
“No, I don’t think so. At least, I’ve never felt it off any Royal except M, and I’ve been around lots of Royals.”
“Royal girls your age?”
“Well, no,” he admits. “But it’s not like you have any Royal blood…do you?”
I shake my head. “My parents are pure Ag for at least four generations, maybe longer. Are…are you sure we didn’t imagine it?”
“Let’s find out.” With a half-daring, half-apprehensive grin, he reaches across and puts his hand over mine.
It’s all I can do not to jerk away again because this third touch is even stronger than the second, sending what feels like an electrical current up my arm to ricochet through my whole body.
“I definitely didn’t imagine that.” He looks almost worried now. “But I still have no idea how or why it’s happening. Even with M, our first touch was the most intense, but this felt like the strongest one yet. Didn’t it?”
Honesty forces me to nod. “Is that…is that how—?” But I can’t say it. Pretending a taghal ardus tingle is the graell is such a tired, pathetic come-on line it’s laughable. In fact, the last time a boy tried it on me, I actually did laugh, right in his face.
“No clue,” he replies as though I’d used the word anyway. “As far as I know, the only people to have a real graell bond in the last few centuries are M and Rigel. We can’t infer much from a sample size of one.”
“Besides, like you just pointed out, I’m an Ag and you’re… I mean, that should make it even more impossible, right?”
Sean shrugs. “You’d think so, but Rigel’s not Royal, either, and M’s Royal blood is purer than mine—more closely related to a recent Sovereign, I mean. Rigel’s not pure anything. His mother’s a Healer and his dad’s Informatics—whole separate fines. But whether it’s possible or not, I…I hope that’s not what’s going on here. You should, too.”
I happen to agree, since I hardly want to be bonded to some Royal. But I can’t resist asking, “Why? Other than how much it would upset your parents, I mean.” I force a grin, trying to make a joke of it.
He grins back. “Yeah, well, there’s that, too.” His agreement bothers me more than I expect. More than it should, for sure. “But the graell has other drawbacks. Like that tinneas M and Rigel get when they’re apart.”
“They actually get sick? I figured that bit was added to the fairytales later, for dramatic effect.”
“Nope. It’s why I had to stick so close to M when she was doing all those appearances, trying to get Acclaimed. Rigel’s grandmother wouldn’t let him anywhere near M, so she got really sick. My touch was the only thing that kept her upright most of that time. I guess we…still had enough resonance then that it was the next best thing to Rigel’s.”
He’s clearly still bothered by it, and no wonder. Like Molly, I’m careful not to draw attention to whatever pain he’s still feeling.
“What about afterward, though? Once she was Acclaimed, she seemed fine whether you were with her or not. Is that tinneas thing just temporary?”
“No, Rigel’s grandmother had the Healers do a bunch of tests on him until they came up with an antidote, since he apparently got just as sick as M did.”
“And didn’t have anybody like you to help him.”
I’m suddenly struck by how hard that must have been for Sean. Knowing M was bonded with—in love with—someone else while having to pretend everything was great between them. So he could stay close enough to keep her healthy. I’m abruptly furious with her all over again for using Sean like that.
“There are other downsides, too,” he says. “Like their electrical thing.”
Confusion briefly replaces my anger. “Electrical thing?”
“Yeah, when they’re together, especially if they’re upset, they can sort of…shoot lightning bolts. That’s how they destroyed the Ossian Sphere Faxon’s followers had before they could use it, and how they stopped the Grentl’s EMP from reaching Earth. It’s gotten a whole lot stronger since they, um, re-bonded. Scary strong. That’s why it wasn’t mentioned in any of the reports, so people wouldn’t freak out about it.”
“Scary strong?” So that’s what Molly meant about Allister being lucky they didn’t hurt him. “How well can they control it?”
He shrugs again. “Nobody really knows, according to Mum, which is why some members of the Council think they should be kept apart.”
“Except then there’s that tinneas thing. I see what you mean. I guess having a bond like that would suck. So are those lightning bolts the big secret you said would panic people?”
“Um, not exactly. But you shouldn’t tell people about those either. There’s been plenty of ugly gossip about M and Rigel already, without adding that to the mix. It might scare a lot of people if they knew. You won’t spread it around, will you?”
“No. I won’t spread it around. I promise.”
“Thanks. I…didn’t think you would.” He continues to hold my gaze, his blue eyes warming, his expression softening.
Something inside me warms and softens in response. Though I’ve tried to fight it, I’ve been attracted to Sean from the start—well before that first touch. That attraction is a lot stronger now. He reaches for my hand again, leans in closer. I sway forward, too, ignoring a tiny voice in the back of my mind shouting that this is crazy. Stupid.
A car door slams outside and Sean jumps to his feet, his ears red. Not looking at me now, he runs a distracted hand through his hair. “I, um… Mum and Dad must be home.”
Half a moment later, Molly comes clattering into the room, slightly out of breath. “Mum and Dad are back! I wanted to make sure you—oh, never mind.” She looks from one to the other of us, her expression relieved, then disappointed.
For a second I can’t decide whether I’m more disappointed or relieved either—then firmly tell myself I’m relieved. Definitely relieved. Kissing Sean would have created a complication I absolutely don’t need in my life right now. Or ever.
I manage to get my heart rate and hopefully my color back under control before Mr. and Mrs. O’Gara come into the living room.
“Well, it does sound as though it won’t be much longer before we have a secure and reliable communication network in place that will—” Mrs. O’Gara is saying, then breaks off when she sees me. “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had a guest.”
Sean immediately steps forward. “Mum, Dad, you remember Kira, don’t you? I introduced her to you at church Sunday.”
Mr. O’Gara nods, smiling. “I also drove her and her classmates to NuAgra on Thursday for their work-study program. Hello again, Kira.”
Mrs. O’Gara’s frown of alarm disappears—she probably assumed I was a Duchas classmate who might have heard more than I should have. “Welcome, Kira.” Her lilt is more pronounced than Sean’s or Molly’s, whose accents are only slightly more “Irish” than a typical Nuathan’s.
“Kira’s the one Sean told you about,” Molly volunteers. “One of the star players on the Ag caidpel team back in Nuath.”
“Oh, yes.” Her mother’s smile widens, though she rakes me with an assessing glance. “You’re from the Agricultural fine, then, dear? That will be nice for Molly, to have a friend with that in common.”
Confused, I glance at Molly. “What do you mean? I thought—”
“I’m adopted,” Molly explains with no trace of embarrassment. “I figured everyone knew by now—it’s not exactly a secret. My real parents were killed when I was a baby, in Glenamuir. Mum and Dad took over their identities when Faxon’s forces started wiping out Royals, and they took me in, as well. But yeah, I was born an Ag—not that I’m a very good one.”
“What do you mean?” I ask again.
She shrugs. “I’ve never been very good with plants, like I ought to be.”
Mrs. O’Gara smiles fondly at her. “Now, now, Molly. You have other talents to compensate. Emileia quite depends on you, both as a friend and as Chomseireach.”
I’d known Molly acted as the Sovereign’s Handmaid in Nuath—one reason I’d assumed she was Royal. But what use would M have for a Handmaid here in Jewel? So much for pretending to be the same as everyone else.
“Maybe next time you come over, Kira, you can show me some Ag tricks before I kill any more houseplants,” Molly suggests.
Though I suspect it would be safer for me to stay well away from the O’Garas’ house after what almost happened with Sean just now, I nod. “Sure thing. I’ll get Alan and Adina to help, too, since they’re also Ags.”
Molly looks delighted—maybe at the prospect of spending time with Alan? I should definitely nudge him her way, if so.
“Well, um, I should get home,” I say before things get awkward again. “Thanks for the homework help.”
We say our goodbyes, Molly promising to have me over again soon. I notice Sean doesn’t echo her on that.
Walking back to Diamond View Terrace a few minutes later, I resolve to keep my distance from Sean in the future. Already, he’s making me doubt some of what I’ve believed about the Sovereign and even the Populists, instead of me persuading him to our side. If some kind of bond is trying to form between us, I don’t dare let it get any stronger—which means never giving him a chance to touch me again.
Congratulating myself on making such a mature, rational decision, I walk faster, refusing to acknowledge the sudden, hollow ache in my chest.