War Storm (Red Queen) - Victoria Aveyard Page 0,172

actually goes to plan?” Kilorn calls from my bedroom.

I have to laugh. “Has it ever?”

He responds with a long, frustrated groan. The door shudders as his head clunks against it.

Kilorn and Davidson are good enough to leave me to dress in peace, but Farley stays put, sprawled across the sea-green covers of my bed. At first I want to chase her out so I can have a bit of time alone, but as the minutes wear on, I’m glad for her presence. If I’m alone, I might lose it entirely and never open the door again. With Farley here, I have no excuse but to get ready as quickly as I can. Hopefully the momentum carries me through the rest of what promises to be an interesting day.

She snickers slightly as I force myself into a formal Scarlet Guard uniform. Freshly cleaned and tailored, just for me. I’ve been oathed to the Guard for almost a year, but it’s never felt official. The uniform is supposed to be symbolic, to properly divide me from Cal and his Silver allies, but I really think Farley just wanted someone else to suffer with her. The bright, bloodred outfit is tight and stiff, buttoned too high up my throat. I fuss with it, trying to loosen the stranglehold a little.

“Not fun, is it?” Farley chuckles. Her own collar is open, folded over for now.

I glance at myself in the mirror, noting the way the special-made garment outlines my form. It’s boxy on top, with straight-legged pants tucked into boots, giving me a rather rectangular silhouette. This is no ball gown, that’s for sure.

While the buttons are polished and gleaming, I have no other decoration on my uniform. No badges, no insignia. I run a hand over my chest, the fabric bare.

“Do I finally get a rank?” I ask, glancing over to Farley. As in the People’s Gallery, she has her three general’s squares on her collar, but most of the false medals and ribbons have been abandoned. No use standing on ceremony in front of Cal, who will know better.

She lies back, looking at the ceiling. One leg crosses over the other, her foot dangling free. “Private has a nice ring to it.”

I put a hand to my heart, pretending to be insulted. “I’ve been with you a year.”

“Maybe I can pull some strings,” she says. “Put in a good word. Get you bumped up to corporal.”

“How generous.”

“You report to Kilorn.”

In spite of the nervous fear tearing up my insides, I laugh out loud. “Whatever you do, don’t tell him that.” I can only imagine the hell he would give me. The teasing, the fake orders. I’d never live it down.

Farley laughs with me, her short blond hair splayed around her face in a halo of gold. She isn’t exactly sparse with her smiles or laughter, but this is different. Not tainted by a smirk or any sharpness. A small burst of real happiness. It’s a rarity these days, in all of us.

Slowly, she catches herself, the echoes of her laughter dying in her throat. I look away quickly, as if I’ve seen something I shouldn’t.

“You stayed with him last night.” Her voice is certain. She knows, as I’m sure everyone does. Cal and I weren’t exactly discreet.

I answer bluntly, without shame. “Yes.”

Her smile fades, and she sits up on the bed. In the mirror’s reflection, I watch her expression shift. The corners of her mouth turn downward and her eyes soften, taking on an air of sadness, if not pity. And perhaps a glint of suspicion as well.

“It doesn’t change things,” I force out, bristling as I turn around. “For either of us.”

Farley is quick to respond, one hand raised. “I know that,” she says, as if calming an animal. Her throat bobs and she licks her lip, choosing her words very carefully. “I miss Shade. I’d do terrible things to bring him back. To get one more day with him. To let Clara meet her father.”

My hands ball at my sides and I look at my feet, feeling my cheeks flush. With shame, because she doesn’t trust me. And with anger, deep sorrow, regret, for my brother lost to all of us. “I won’t—”

She pushes up to her feet and closes the distance between us in firm strides. Her hands grip my shoulders, forcing me to look up into her scarred face. “I’m saying you’re stronger than I am, Mare,” she breathes, eyes shining. It takes a long moment for the