But something about the way Lila spoke—she believed in her message. There was no need to tell IIs and IIIs that something crucial was missing from their lives, but judging by the well-dressed crowds, few members of the audiences were below a V. Not only was she speaking to the population about her traitorous ideas, but she was convincing the smart and the powerful.

No wonder Daxton and Augusta had had her killed.

The door handle rattled one afternoon as I watched the last recording of her, a rousing demand that the rank and assignment system be demolished in favor of freedom and choice. Knox, who sat beside me, jumped up and turned off the screen. From the other side of the room, Celia launched herself toward the door.

I expected her to chew out whoever was on the other side, but instead she stepped back and opened it all the way. Daxton entered, and behind him walked a woman with chin-length white hair and a face so smooth it looked like she was made of marble. She held her shoulders back with such perfect posture that my spine ached just looking at her, and as a member of the only family exempt from going Elsewhere at age sixty, she was by far the oldest person I’d ever seen.

Augusta Hart.

“Good afternoon, Mother,” said Celia. “We weren’t expecting you for another two hours.” The bitterness in her tone was obvious to me, but Augusta didn’t seem to notice. If she did, she didn’t care.

“My schedule freed up unexpectedly,” said Augusta, her voice as cold as her expression. She stared at me, as if she could see right through Lila’s face to the person I was underneath. I held her gaze, but she said nothing to me.

Daxton hesitated. “Mother, this is Kitty. Lila’s replacement.”

“Stand-in,” corrected Augusta. “What have you been teaching her?”

“Everything,” I said. “How Lila talked, how she acted, how she walked and what she ate—”

“Celia,” interrupted Augusta, as if I hadn’t said anything at all. “I asked you a question.”

My face grew warm as I glowered at her, and a muscle in Celia’s jaw twitched. “We’ve been teaching her exactly what you told us to, Mother. The basics and enough to help her fully adjust. Nothing more.” She flipped on the television screen Knox had turned off in such a rush. Somehow Lila’s last speech had been replaced by a recording of her running around as a child while wearing a frilly tutu and a crown I wasn’t so sure was plastic.

Augusta nodded curtly, still watching me as if I were a piece of furniture instead of a living, breathing human being. “If she passes tonight’s test, she will be taken back to the city and will resume her duties. If not, you will all remain in the Stronghold until she is ready.”

“Of course,” said Celia, and Augusta sniffed.

“If all goes well, the media will be informed of your return from vacation tomorrow, so no one will have a chance to speculate,” she added, as if the Harts hadn’t controlled the media and public opinion for decades. “You holidayed in Aspen. Do prepare her for that, as well.”

Augusta turned to leave the room, and I tightened my fists. “It was nice to meet you,” I said before I could stop myself.

She stopped dead in her tracks. Seconds ticked by, and my heart pounded as I waited for her to say something. Maybe I was nothing more than a pawn to her, a nameless piece in whatever twisted game she was playing, but she had to acknowledge me eventually.

Finally Augusta stepped toward the door, and Daxton held it open for her. “Don’t be silly, dear,” she said. “You’ve known me your whole life.”

Celia spent the next two hours preparing me for dinner. She stuffed me into a dress and painful high heels, and while she did my hair, she drilled me on everything I’d learned over the past eleven days. No matter how hard I tried, nothing I said was exactly right.

“No, no, no,” she snapped, yanking my hair. “She named her cat Missy, not Misty, and her favorite color’s chartreuse, not green.” She let out a frustrated groan and turned to Knox, who sat on the couch watching the whole production. “She’s going to fail, and it’ll be our asses on the line.”

Knox stood and crossed the room. He took my hair from her and nudged her aside, his gentle fingers expertly finishing the intricate hairstyle. How many times had he done this for Lila?

“All you can do is your best,” said Knox patiently to me while Celia collapsed in a huff on the sofa. “If you aren’t there yet, we’ll keep at it until you have it down. No one can expect you to learn how to be a completely different person in less than two weeks.”

Apparently Augusta did, and her opinion was the only one that mattered. “What’s she going to ask me?” I said, using my loose dialect instead of stumbling over Lila’s prim and proper accent. If anything screwed me up, it’d be that.

“I don’t know,” he said, tying off a twisted braid. “Just remember what we’ve taught you, and you’ll do fine.”

“Whatever you do, don’t mention the speeches,” added Celia, and Knox shot her a look. She returned it. “She needs to know she can’t talk about them, else Mother will have all our heads.”

So the speeches they’d shown me hadn’t been on Augusta’s approved teaching list after all. Somehow that didn’t surprise me. “I won’t,” I said, glancing at Knox in the mirror. “Don’t worry about it.”

“That’s not the only thing we have to worry about,” he muttered. He finished up my hair quickly, and to my surprise, it looked good on Lila. On me.

He offered me his hand, but I ignored it and took one last look at my new face. This would have to be enough for tonight. “Let’s get this over with.”

Knox and Celia led the way to the dining room. Everything I’d been taught seemed to drain from my mind as we made our way down the hallway, leaving me feeling empty. My hands shook, and I could barely remember my own name, let alone Lila’s.

I took a deep breath, and another, and another, trying to calm my nerves, but nothing worked. My heart raced, and no amount of silently reassuring myself helped. I was screwed. I might have looked like Lila, but I wasn’t her. And no amount of training would ever change that.

Halfway there, Knox set his hand on my shoulder and offered me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You can fake anything as long as you have Lila’s attitude. Hold your head high and act like you’re pretending nothing bothers you when everything does, and you’ll be golden.”

“You say that like it’s the easiest thing in the world,” I said.

“For Lila, it was.” Knox offered me his arm. I thought about not taking it, but my dress was made of silk, and I would never have forgiven myself if I’d fallen and ripped something so exquisite. I slid my arm into his and straightened. Lila wouldn’t have been caught dead slouching.

“How did we meet?” I said, using Lila’s accent. It sounded fake to my ears, but Celia didn’t comment, so it couldn’t have been too bad.

“Has your memory gone now, as well?” he said, eyebrow raised. “Or were you more drugged than I thought?”

I glared at him. “I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about Lila. How did you two meet?”

“We’ve known each other since we were kids, and we’ve been engaged since she turned seventeen. My father’s the minister of ranking, so my family’s close with the VIIs. It was pretty much a done deal as soon as she was born.”

“So you’re not a VII?” I said. “I mean, I know only Harts have VIIs, but since you’re going to marry her—” Marry me. I cringed. “I thought they might have given one to you, too.”

Knox turned down his collar so I could see his tattoo. A black VI stood out against his skin, and I bit my lip to stop myself from grinning. I outranked Lennox Creed. “No one who wasn’t born and raised a Hart has a VII. Except for you, of course.” He smirked. “Lucky you.”

“Lucky me.” If Knox wasn’t going to have a VII even after he married Lila—married me—did that mean Augusta was a VI, as well? It almost seemed too good to be true. “You must be smarter than you look.”