Between Burning Worlds (System Divine #2) - Jessica Brody Page 0,210

in the center in all their sparkle and grandeur. Marcellus had been gone less than two weeks, but the whole thing seemed so much brighter and more vivid than he remembered. Now, having seen real blue sky and the real Sols setting over the Albion horizon, the charade of all this was more obvious to him than ever. Almost like these artificial Sols, hanging in their artificial sky, were trying too hard.

“I never thought I’d find myself back here,” Marcellus muttered under his breath as he gazed out the window.

Chatine barked out a laugh. “Me neither.”

The guards hadn’t even checked the cargo hold of the transporteur when Grantaire stopped at Ledôme’s west gate, scanned his biometrics in, and explained that he was making a special delivery for his mother, the Policier inspecteur of Montfer. They’d simply waved him through. Now Marcellus, Chatine, Cerise, and Alouette were seated in the front compartment of the vehicle, watching the bright and colorful sights pass by through the windows.

With every turn and tiny jolt of the transporteur, Marcellus felt like his heart might thump right out of his chest. Their plan had been cycling through his mind on a never-ending loop since they’d left the Terrain Perdu. On some level, it seemed so easy. Simple. As though nothing could possibly go wrong. And yet, at the same time, it also felt close to impossible. As though they were fools for even trying.

But fools or not, Marcellus knew they had to try.

“So,” Grantaire said, nudging Marcellus with his elbow as the transporteur turned off the main avenue and into a quiet neighborhood. “I can’t help but notice that we’re here. We made it. I got you safely into Ledôme.”

Confused, Marcellus glanced uneasily at Grantaire, unsure what he was getting at. “Yes. Merci. We really appreciate it.”

Grantaire held up his hands. “Okay, I get it. I get it. Officer Bonnefaçon still doesn’t trust me.”

“W-w-what?” Marcellus stammered, taken back. “That’s not true.”

“It is true,” Grantaire deadpanned, and upon seeing Marcellus’s baffled expression added, “You can’t be the son of a celebrated Policier inspecteur without picking up some of her skills. But I don’t need cyborg circuitry to sense when someone doesn’t like me.”

Marcellus faltered, searching for an excuse, but nothing came.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Grantaire said. “I have to earn your trust. I respect that. I’ll work on it.” Grantaire winked at him. “I like a challenge.”

Marcellus fell quiet and returned his gaze to the window. Outside, nestled behind towering oak and chestnut trees, the manoirs of the Second Estate looked like over-frosted gâteaus. Gaudy painted reliefs covered their walls and pediments. Ornate golden tiles decorated the roofs, and tall, striped columns guarded the front doors.

The transporteur pitched to the left and glided into a long circular driveway before coming to a stop beside a gushing fountain. This manoir was just as grand and opulent as the rest, with a myriad of windows that dazzled in the artificial Sol-light.

Cerise gave Grantaire a hug before hopping out of the vehicle and calling back, “You’re the best!”

Grantaire waved and called back, “If only my maman felt that way!”

“I owe you one!” Cerise said before blowing him a kiss.

Alouette and Chatine both thanked Grantaire and stepped out onto the driveway, so that Marcellus was the only one left.

“Look,” he began, feeling awkward. “It’s not that … I just …”

Grantaire smirked at him, like he was enjoying this.

Marcellus wrung his hands together and huffed out a breath. “Just get out of Ledôme, okay?”

The smirk evaporated instantly from Grantaire’s face. “What? Why? What’s going on?” His eyes narrowed. “Does this have something to do with the Ascension banquet? Fifty winners is—”

“Just go. Turn around and get back to Montfer.”

Then, before Grantaire could ask him any more questions, Marcellus climbed out of the transporteur and hurried up the driveway.

“Well, here we are,” Cerise said, gazing up at the manor. “Home sweet home.”

Marcellus couldn’t help but remark on the sadness in her voice. It was as though this was the last place Cerise ever thought she’d end up. Marcellus felt the same way. When he’d left Ledôme and the Grand Palais behind, he’d been certain he would never come back.

And yet, here they were. About to infiltrate an Ascension banquet.

But first, they needed supplies.

“You live here?” Chatine said, doing very little to hide her disbelief and what sounded like a hint of disgust.

“Unfortunately,” Cerise muttered.

She guided them all through the front doors and into a large foyer. Polished marble floors stretched out under their feet,