Detective Atwood’s note rustled in my pocket, reminding me of why I’d come out here. Honestly, it was probably best not to respond to it. My life was far from perfect, but it might still not be better to take unnecessary risks. While I didn’t think Desmarc would have a problem with me interacting with the Blue Capes like Papá would, I had no idea how he’d feel about me involving myself in murder cases.
But the urge to do something still nagged at me like a loose thread on a piece of fabric I couldn’t help but pull at.
“There you are.” Desmarc walked over as I rejoined the central path.
“Sorry, were you waiting long?” I smiled up at him, glad he’d come to find me, and we strolled together around the garden—the mostly dead one that sprawled horizontally across our lands instead of vertically.
“Not at all. An urgent message came in for your father, so I thought I would come find you.”
“I see.” I stifled a sigh. Despite how Desmarc and I had grown closer during our six-month courtship, it was impossible to forget this was still an arranged marriage. He often chose Papá and politics over me, although that wasn’t totally fair considering I had my own reasons for entering this marriage.
Desmarc took my hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. The black silk of his glove was stark against his starched shirt.
“Have you ever had to decide between your brain and your heart?” I dropped my other hand into my pocket to wrap around the note.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean have you ever had to choose to follow everyone’s expectations over what you truly wanted?”
“What’s this about, Kyra?”
I chewed my lip. Should I tell him about Slipping, despite Papá’s warnings? But again, the fear of his reaction kept me silent. “Nothing.”
He stopped and turned to face me. “Are you talking about our engagement?”
I blinked up at him in surprise. “Of course not.”
“So, what are you talking about?”
“Just hypothetically. With life.”
His expression grew serious, and he squeezed my hand. “I’m the type who almost always chooses duty over love. It’s how I was raised.”
“I see,” I said softly, unsurprised. I couldn’t help but be a little disappointed, even though I couldn’t blame him. I was choosing my own happiness and freedom over love, although I still held the faint hope that someday it would bloom between us.
Duty over love. Expectations over dreams.
Seeing that murder and meeting Detective Atwood was a wake-up call, giving shape to this desire that had been growing in me the last few years. I wanted to prove that I could do more, that I could be more than a pawn in someone’s political games. I’d thought getting away from Papá and going to university would be enough, that it could help me feel closer to Mamá in some small way. But there was no better way to feel close to Mamá than by helping people.
And if I worked with the Blue Capes, maybe I’d have access to more resources and be able to learn more about my ability. No one else had an ability like mine, and I had no idea how people would respond if they found out. In a world of science and technology, my ability didn’t fit in. I’d tried to come up with thousands of excuses over the years to explain it—some weird side effect of aether power, Mamá ate something strange when she was pregnant with me, there was something strange about my DNA, something had happened to me as a kid... But no matter what I did, they remained just that. Theories.
We turned a corner, bringing the front of the house into view again. The sun glinted off the mismatched curved windows and metal turrets.
Papá stood on the second-story balcony, an intense frown on his face as he puffed on his pipe.
“It looks like your father is free,” Desmarc said. “Maybe you can stop by the kitchen and ask the bots to prepare some food for us while I meet with him?”
“Of course.”
“Excellent.” He kissed my cheek and gave me one last smile, then hurried up the steps to the front porch and let himself in.
Though Desmarc said he’d choose duty over love, he’d still treat me well. It was obvious in the small things he did. Like how he wore gloves when he was around me to help me feel more comfortable about how I always wore them too. He’d asked me about it once, but since Papá had forbidden me to tell, I’d given him an excuse. He must’ve seen the distress in my expression because he hadn’t brought it up again. Hopefully, once we were married, we would both learn to be more open with one another.
After swinging by the kitchen and asking the bots to make some finger sandwiches and scones, I made my way back to the living room. The door was still ajar, but now their voices were much more subdued.
“Are you sure?” Desmarc asked.
“The message was unmistakable,” Papá said heavily. “There’s been another—”
The squeak of his chair as he sank into it drowned out his last word, and I had to resist the urge to swear. As soon as I had a chance, I’d put some oil on that chair.
Another meridian rising in the ranks? My steps were silent on the thick carpet as I crept closer to the door.
“Once word of this leaks, the city will be on high alert,” Desmarc said.
If it was about something political, it wouldn’t put the city on high alert. Maybe it had to do with the aether technology.
I shifted, giving me a view of Desmarc’s back and Papá’s tense expression. Something bad had happened, but I was stuck trying to fit together a puzzle with only half the pieces. Despite what Desmarc had said about me joining them, it wasn’t like I could barge in and ask for more details. Papá considered many things unsuitable topics for me and preferred shielding me from bad news rather than letting us face it together, and Desmarc would surely follow his lead. I’d have to get my information through less-than-conventional methods.
“Not to sound heartless, but isn’t this good for the Guardians?” Desmarc asked.
“Is death ever good for anyone?” Papá said harshly.
I inhaled sharply at the same moment Desmarc said, “True, but if it’s true that there’s been another murder after the one the night of the party, that just goes to show that the Neo-Unionists aren’t up to keeping their promise about protecting the city.”
My heart raced hearing them talk about the murder from the night of the party, even though they seemed oblivious to my involvement in the affair. Not to mention the news of another death. Why hadn’t Detective Atwood said anything about it in his note?
But the most important question of all was: If more people were dying, could I really sit by and do nothing? Not like crime didn’t happen constantly, but the experience from the other day had proven that I could help with my ability. Even if I didn’t get any answers, the fact that I could make a difference like Mamá was reason enough to pursue this opportunity.
Slowly, I reached into my pocket and gripped the note with one hand. The next time Papá was out, I’d return to the Iron Watch and convince Detective Atwood to let me help solve the murders.