I bit my lip. That was exactly how a Hart would justify it. They had taken away my face and name, but I’d thought there was no way they could take away who I really was. Then I’d kissed Knox, and now this. Seemed they were winning after all.

“Are you okay?” he said, squeezing my hand.

“I’m fine. Whatever it is that got to them—” I stopped and watched the rise and fall of Celia’s chest. If Daxton pulled through... “Benjy, you can’t be around me, okay? I love you, but if someone sees us together like this, we’ll both pay the price.”

He scowled. “Someone needs to watch your back. I’m not going to sit here and let them hurt you.”

“They’re not hurting me. They wouldn’t, not after all the effort they put into making me look like Lila. But Augusta is watching me like a hawk, and if she sees us together, she’ll make sure we both regret it. Please, Benjy,” I begged. “For me.”

At last he nodded. He didn’t look happy about it, but he didn’t have to be. He only had to agree. “All right. Just—don’t die, okay? I couldn’t take losing you again.”

“I won’t. You’re not allowed to die, either.” Remembering what Celia had said the morning I’d gone hunting with Daxton, I added, “Keep your head down and do what they tell you, and everything will be okay.”

Benjy stood and kissed me on the cheek. “You, too. I’m here if you need me.”

He tucked a folded piece of paper into my hand and left. I waited until he shut the door before I opened his note, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I smiled.

He’d drawn two stick figures standing on a beach, with waves and a sand castle nearby. Their little fingers were interlocked, and between them was a sideways figure eight—the symbol for eternity.

“Love you, too,” I whispered. I refolded the note and tucked it safely in my pocket. As long as we were both alive, I had to believe that everything would be okay.

Celia awoke shortly after midnight, just long enough for me to tell her Daxton was still alive. She was furious, but as each day passed and he remained in a coma, I breathed a little easier as it seemed less and less likely that he would regain consciousness.

Greyson spent hours every day at the impostor’s bedside, and when Celia demanded I leave her alone, I stayed with him. Augusta was so busy running the country in Daxton’s place that I was all but forgotten in the aftermath. That was exactly how I wanted it.

“You’re lucky,” said Greyson two days into his bedside vigil. We barely spoke, and even when we did, I was usually the one doing the talking, chatting about anything other than the V-shaped ridges I knew lay on the back of that man’s neck. Getting Greyson to speak to me was about as effective as moving the walls with my bare hands, though, so when he did, I looked at him, surprised.

“How?” I said.

“You don’t have to rule if you don’t want to,” he said. “My father—I know he isn’t the god he wants the world to think he is. I know he’s not perfect, and I’ve seen the things he’s done just like everyone else in this family. But he’s still my father.” He hesitated, and I had to bite my tongue to stay silent. “If I tell you something, will you promise to never tell anyone?”

“I can keep a secret.” If only he knew just how well.

Greyson ducked his head. “I don’t want to be the prime minister,” he said so quietly that I had to strain to hear him. “It was always supposed to be my brother, not me. He’s the one who trained for it, and as horrible as it sounds, the worst part about this is now there’s no one standing between me and that title. It’ll be me next, and Grandmother would rather choke on acid than let Celia have it instead of me.”

“Maybe it won’t happen,” I said uncertainly. “Maybe he’ll wake up.”

When Greyson looked at me, his eyes were rimmed with red and he wore a twisted mockery of a smile. “I’m not that lucky.”

I didn’t know what to say. The silence built up around us, and finally Greyson sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“My mother and brother were killed by the Blackcoats,” he said. “I knew it was only a matter of time before they came for me and my father. I was hoping I’d be first, though.”

“No one should hope for that kind of thing,” I said quietly.

He shook his head. “I should have died with them anyway. The four of us were supposed to go to the theater for a performance, but I didn’t...” He paused. “Something came up with China, and my father wanted Jameson to stay behind and help. He refused, though, and not even my father could make him do something he didn’t want to. So I stayed instead. We were supposed to be right behind them, no more than a few minutes late, except—”

He stopped. The seconds ticked by, and I wanted to comfort him, but I had no idea how. None of my friends in the group home had parents or siblings to lose. Family was almost a dirty word, since they’d been the ones to give us away to begin with. But the devastated look on Greyson’s face made it clear how much he’d loved his.

“There was a bomb planted in the car,” he said. “The officials who investigated the case, they said whoever put it there probably didn’t realize my mother and brother would be in it. It was my father’s car, and he used it to drive all over town. We always used a separate one, but because it was supposed to be all four of us...”

His voice broke, and I studied the floor to avoid looking at him. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t imagine what that must feel like.”

“Of course you can. You know exactly what it’s like to lose a parent.”

I had no idea what had happened to Lila’s father, who must have died when I was very young. I couldn’t even remember any article Benjy read ever mentioning Celia being married. I’d seen the pictures on her wall of the three of them, though, so they must have been happy once. And now Celia was the only one left.

Greyson watched me, and I squirmed underneath the intensity of his stare. “It was a public execution,” he said. “My father accused him of treason, claiming he had planned to kill us so Celia could become prime minister. You were seven years old, and my father made you and Celia watch. Death by firing squad. You screamed—” Greyson winced as if he could still hear it. “Celia had to hold on to you so you wouldn’t get in the way. She covered your eyes, but you still heard it. After that, you sneaked into my room almost every night and slept at the foot of my bed. Said you could hear the guns going off when you tried to sleep by yourself. When the servants found out, they had another mattress moved into my bedroom for you.”

I shivered. No wonder Lila had hated Daxton so much. Being forced to watch her father’s execution—I didn’t need to know what having a father felt like in order to imagine it. If Daxton had done that to me, I would have strangled him with my bare hands. Though he had in a way, hadn’t he? By murdering Nina in front of me. I’d wanted to kill him then, and if he hadn’t cuffed me to the railing, I would have.

Lila was smart enough to know that it wouldn’t have changed anything, though. Even if the title was passed down to Greyson, Augusta still ruled, and Greyson would have been risking his own life to go against whatever she said. Before Daxton died, there had to be a plan in place to stop her. But Celia, sick with desire for revenge, hadn’t thought it through. She’d only seen an opportunity and taken it.

“The night you got here was the first time in ten years that Lila was in Somerset and didn’t sneak into my room,” said Greyson. “I thought I’d done something to make you mad, but everything you say, the way you talk to me and look at me—it’s all wrong. You look like her, but you’re not her, are you?” He swallowed. “They Masked you, didn’t they?”

Augusta’s warning echoed through my mind, but there was no hiding it now. If he knew, there was nothing I could do to convince him I was her. So I nodded.