“Please don’t tell Augusta you know,” I whispered. “She’ll kill me.”

“So will my father.” Greyson grimaced as he looked at Daxton’s still form between us. “Is that what happened to Lila? Did they—did they kill her?”

“They did,” I said gently. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t say anything for several minutes. My hand twitched as the desire to take his overwhelmed me, but I resisted. The last thing he probably wanted was for me, some screwed-up version of his best friend, to touch him. Instead I focused on the rise and fall of Daxton’s chest, wishing with everything I had that it would stop.

“Celia did this to him,” said Greyson suddenly, breaking the silence. I opened my mouth to protest, but he kept going. “Don’t bother denying it. I know my own family, no matter how many secrets they try to keep from me. I understand why she did it, too. If I’d had any idea they killed Lila...” He paused again, and at last he looked me in the eye. “How long have you been her?”

“About a month. Daxton bought me at a club on my seventeenth birthday. I was a III.” I searched his face for any sign of shock or disgust, but his expression was blank, and he held my stare without flinching. “He offered me a VII for helping him out, and he didn’t say how, but—he’s the prime minister. I couldn’t say no.” I tugged on a lock of Lila’s hair. “They took me to a car and knocked me out. When I woke up, I looked like Lila. I had no idea it was going to happen until it was already over.”

“That sounds like him,” said Greyson. “Who else knows?”

“Celia,” I said. “Knox. Augusta.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “So everyone. And none of them thought I should know that my best friend was dead.”

“I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you, but Augusta...”

He rubbed his eyes. “I know. You’re the last person who should apologize, and I’m sorry they put you through this. No one deserves to lose their identity like that. What’s your name?”

My name. It was such a small thing, but I’d thought no one would ever ask me again. “Kitty. My name’s Kitty.”

Greyson offered me a watery smile. “Kitty. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Greyson.” He stuck out his hand, and I took it. His grip was warm and firm. “Friends?”

Another thing I thought I’d never have again. I smiled back, and for a few precious seconds I allowed myself to push my nagging worries aside. Even if I was dead tomorrow, at least I would have this.

“Yeah,” I said. “Friends.”

After nearly a week in the infirmary, Celia was finally released. That night, someone knocked on the door, and I opened it, expecting to see Greyson. Ever since our conversation over Daxton’s bedside, we’d been spending more and more time together. We played card games and chess to pass the time, ate our meals separate from Augusta, and he told me everything he knew about Lila, things even Celia hadn’t known.

“She talked about running away all the time,” he said. “That’s why I made her that necklace. She felt trapped here, and I thought if she had a way out, maybe...maybe she wouldn’t leave me.”

“I can’t imagine her wanting to leave you,” I said, and it was the truth. I’d never met anyone like Greyson. Even though darkness permeated every corner of Somerset, he made me smile. He was no Benjy and I was no Lila, but he seemed to need a friend as badly as I did.

When I opened the door, however, Celia stared back at me, not Greyson. She was pale and unsteady on her feet, and I stepped aside to let her in, not wanting her to collapse in the doorway. She made her way slowly to the sofa and sat down with none of her usual grace.

Her dark hair was lank and dirty, and the circles under her eyes made her look like she hadn’t slept in days. Considering all she’d been doing was resting, I had no idea how she could still look so tired. The poison, I assumed. Maybe this was what it did to someone who survived.

“I hear you and Greyson have been talking,” she said. Her voice was hoarse.

“Yeah.” I tried to keep the wariness out of my tone. “He’s nice.”

“You’re lucky my mother’s been too busy to notice.” Celia stretched out across the couch and closed her eyes, leaving me no place to sit beside her. Instead I perched on the edge of an armchair and nervously picked at my nails. As the seconds passed and she said nothing, I scowled.

“What do you want?”

Celia cracked open an eye. “World peace. A hot bath. My real daughter and not a spineless replacement. You didn’t give him the full dose, did you?”

“I didn’t have time,” I lied. “The guards were coming, and Daxton was struggling. It was a miracle I got that much in him.”

“So you say,” she said mildly. “My fault for trusting you with it. If Daxton ever wakes up, I won’t make that mistake again.”

Infuriated, I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails cut into my palms. Any chance she had of finding out about Daxton from me vanished. “Did you just come here to insult me, or was there a point?”

“Of course there’s a point.” With a groan, Celia sat up. “Mother dropped by my suite and reminded me that before this whole mess started, Daxton scheduled a speech for you in New York tomorrow afternoon. Since I’m ill and he’s half-dead, Knox will escort you.”

I crossed my arms. Knox had made himself scarce since that night, leaving me to fend for myself. “What’s the speech about?”

“An apology for making them believe that there was ever a reason for revolution. I’ve given Knox your real speech, though. It’s about Daxton,” she added. “The media isn’t going to report on what happened, so it’s up to us to get the word out, starting in New York.”

“Why?” I said. If I went off script, there was no telling what Augusta might do to Benjy. “He’s not dead. What’s the point in telling everyone he’s in a coma?”

“Hope,” said Celia. “To show your supporters that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. No matter what he wants the people to think, Daxton isn’t immortal.”

No, the dead certainly weren’t. I bit the inside of my cheek. “What if Augusta decides to have someone Masked in his place?”

“That’s exactly why we have to do this,” said Celia. “To make sure Augusta doesn’t have the chance. Having someone Masked is a risk, but she’ll do it if she has to. She’s already proven that.”

More than Celia knew. It would be so easy to stand on a podium and tell the world that Daxton wasn’t really Daxton after all; it would give Celia the opening she needed to snatch the country from her mother, but I would also be signing my own death warrant. Along with Benjy’s. “What will Augusta do to me?”

“Nothing. She’ll threaten and posture, but in the end, with Daxton in such bad condition, she needs you more than ever. Tell the world she’s lying about Daxton’s health, and they’ll flock to you. Lila’s supporters have more power than Daxton and Augusta want to admit,” she added. “That’s why you were Masked, and that’s why Augusta will still need you even if you go off script. Without Daxton, she won’t be able to charm the country into believing whatever she wants. Lila has that power. Do what I tell you, and I swear nothing will happen to you—or your boyfriend.”

I stared out the dark window, and I could feel her eyes boring into me. Celia would only accept one answer, and as long as Knox was going along with this, I had to believe that she was telling the truth. Knowing someone had been Masked as Daxton didn’t give me the upper hand; it painted an even bigger target on my back. If I didn’t gain some leverage I could use, my days after he died would be numbered. And if he woke up, I could very well be looking at the last hours of my life. Gaining the public’s trust after proving everyone else was lying to them could be the insurance I needed to buy more time. “Fine. Send Benjy with us, and I’ll do it.”

Celia’s smile was about as welcoming as broken glass. “Good girl.”