“What about you? I hear you’re angling to marry a Lind to get a foot in yourself. Maybe my aunt’s here to keep an eye on my cousin, make sure you two don’t get too close.”
Theo eyed me shrewdly. “What if my plan is to woo you, instead? Or your sister?”
“My sister is the least political person you’ll ever meet, and we both know you have zero interest in me.”
Theo stepped back, sly grin on his face. “You’re feistier than I thought you’d be.”
“And you’re . . . tall,” I replied, deadpan. “But seriously, are you interested in my cousin?”
“Should I be?”
“If you’re aiming to become captain of this ship someday, yeah, probably. Though, that said, she’d never let you be captain. But you’d still get the political access, if that’s what you want.”
“It’s what my parents want,” he said, “and maybe what I want, just a little. I’m not the only one, you know. I’ve heard at least three other guys here are interested in the Lind ladies for the same reason. A few women, too, if you’re so inclined. So watch out.”
“How kind of you to look out for my virtue,” I said. “I don’t get the appeal of political power, anyway.”
“It’s your family’s fault for limiting Scandinavian power in the fleet to the royal family and captainship. Some of us want to protect ourselves, and having a voice in fleet government is the only way to do that. You saw at the opening ball. Things are getting messy out there.”
A buzzer sounded, calling time and ending my conversation with Theo on an oddly chilling note. The sounds of the concert faded into nothing, and the screens went dormant.
“See you later, Leo.” He gave me a small salute and exited through the now-open door.
My wrist tab buzzed, prompting me to rate him yes or no. Surely I was a no for him, but . . . what if he put yes? Just in case, I picked no—I didn’t want to match with him and seem desperate.
I leaned against the far wall, marveling at the sweat pooling at the base of my spine, as if I’d actually been jumping around at a concert. In fact, it was stuffy in here—of course they’d altered the room temperature to suit the illusion. Gross.
A soft chime sounded, and the wall at my back began to buzz.
“Please step back from the wall,” a mechanical female voice said.
I jolted forward just in time as the back wall slid up. All I could see beyond was black, but I could hear something shuttling, like a conveyor belt. After a moment, a platform slid in through the opening in the wall, and I had to hop back to avoid it hitting me in the shins.
I didn’t even notice the door behind me open and Lukas come in. I was too distracted by the piece of equipment in front of me.
“Awesome!” Lukas crowed, launching himself at the bench press in the middle of the room. He whipped off his shirt and lay down, clasping the weight with both hands. I was left speechless as the screens, all now fully back in place, transported us to a gym.
“Aren’t you gonna spot me?” Lukas asked. I felt my jaw clicking.
“Your ideal date is you working out at the gym?” I asked. There was only one piece of equipment. Nothing for me to do but watch him. At least I’d be less sweaty. I could feel cool air now being pumped into the room.
“Don’t you like the view?” Lukas waggled his eyebrows, flexing his muscles. “And seriously, I need you to spot me.”
I spotted him, all right. And I talked about all the food I enjoyed eating the whole time, just to irk him. Five minutes couldn’t be over fast enough, and rating him no was easy.
And on and on it went, a parade of boys from so many ships—the Versailles, Nikkei, Shanghai, Empire—and I feared my brain might begin to dribble out my ears, for all the dull small talk I was engaging in. And then there were the “dates.” I was subjected to rock climbing, hiking, three instances of “dinner” (sans food), a cheesy sunset walk on the beach, the opera, deep-sea diving—all virtual facsimiles of the real thing that ranged from boring to excruciating. A few of the boys were cute and well-meaning enough, but after fifteen, they all began to blur together and I couldn’t remember their names.
Then Elliot walked in.
“Uh, hi,” I offered awkwardly, taking a seat on the couch that had shuttled in through the wall seconds earlier. It began to snow. A fireplace crackled to life on the screen across from us. Oh, no, it was quiet and cozy, which meant we’d have to actually talk.
“Hey. How’s it been going?” He joined me on the couch, which I realized as he sat down was really more of a love seat. It was definitely built for two and meant to corral us close. Which it did. I could see beads of sweat drying on his temple.
“Been exerting yourself?” I asked.
“Dancing. Why? Do I smell?”
“Oh, no, just you’re a bit sweaty.”
“So are you. Dancing too?”
“Rock climbing.”
Elliot furrowed his brow. “That’s weird. You hate outdoor sports.”
I hated how well he knew me. And the thrill of happiness that spiked through me at his consideration of what I did or didn’t like—I hated that, too. It would be pathetic of me to allow myself even a moment of hope. Elliot had come here to see me suffer; he’d said so himself. That he’d been kind of nice to me at the pool, that he was being kind of okay now, was meaningless. I needed to remind myself of that. I reminded him, as well.
“What are we doing, Elliot? A few days ago you wanted me to suffer, and now that I am, you’re concerned.”
He looked as if I’d caught him mid–high-priced heist. Red crept into his cheeks.
“I’m really sorry I ever said that. It was in the heat of the moment, and . . . well, I did mean it, before I came here. I entertained wild fantasies of you being miserable, petty, and shallow, that it would be easy to hate you. But it’s weird. You’re exactly the same but completely different.”
That statement was uncannily correct, for both of us.
“Anyway, it seems wrong to kick you when you’re down.” He grimaced. “Sorry; that came out wrong.”
“No, that’s pretty accurate.” I sighed. “I owe you an apology. For everything that happened. My reasons for not marrying you were right for me at the time. I don’t regret that. But I’m sorry for the way it went down. It was cruel to say yes and then change my mind the next day.”
There was still so much left unsaid, like how despite the logic of it all, I’d never stopped loving him. That I’d said yes to his proposal and been happy for those fleeting twelve hours because I hadn’t wanted to think about the practicalities. I had wanted to be another person, the kind of person who could run off with the person she loved and be poor but happy. A part of me still wondered if I could have been.
“Wow.” Elliot sank back into love seat. For a moment, he wouldn’t look at me, and panic seized at my insides. It felt like the right thing to say at the time, but what if I’d gone and made things irreparably worse—?
“Thank you, Leo. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that. I hope this means we can be friends again?”
Friends, yes. We could be friends. I nodded.