Replica

CHAPTER FIVE

Nadia hated every moment of lying to Nate. She desperately wanted to tell him everything that had happened to her since the night of the reception. Especially everything that had happened when Mosely questioned her. If she could tell Nate what Mosely wanted her to do, then together they could devise some way to work around it, some way to make it seem like she was cooperating with Mosely while not actually risking Bishop’s safety. Several times during her retelling of the night’s terrible events, she almost blurted out the truth.

But the real truth was, she couldn’t tell Nate about Mosely. She knew Nate too well, and there was no sign that his Replica was any different. The minute she told him how Mosely had treated her, Nate would go on the warpath. He would confront Mosely, and there was no way that could end well for Nadia. Mosely would take revenge on her for talking. Of that she had no doubt, even if Nate might think he could protect her. And so she didn’t dare tell the truth, no matter how much she wanted to.

Nate looked appropriately abashed when Nadia told him just what he’d been up to on the night of the reception, how he’d set them both up for the hell they—and Bishop—were in now. He stared down at his hands, and even winced now and again, though she tried not to be too accusatory. No matter how angry she was with him.

“I was an asshole to you,” he said when she was finished. Maybe he hoped she’d contradict him, but she didn’t. He squirmed. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged, which wasn’t quite an acceptance of his apology, but it was the best she could do. She was glad he was at least able to acknowledge that he’d done wrong. With Nate, sometimes that was half the battle. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if the original Nate would have apologized, or if that was just something his Replica did, but she shoved the thought away. She had seen no sign that he wasn’t identical to the original in all ways.

“I’m going to make things right,” he said with a decisive nod. “I don’t know how, yet, but I’m going to do it.”

Nadia had no doubt he would try. She also had no doubt that given a little prompting, he’d be happy to talk about the steps he was going to take to make things right, which would no doubt begin with finding Bishop. And if he told her anything, she was going to have to relay the information to Mosely. Sure, she could try lying and pretending she knew nothing, but with Mosely’s reputation as a human lie detector, she didn’t dare. The only way to avoid telling Mosely anything was to make sure she didn’t have anything to tell.

And so, instead of prompting Nate to tell her what he was going to do, instead of the two of them teaming up, putting their heads together, and trying to figure out how to help Bishop and find the real killer, Nadia faked a shiver and closed her eyes with a little groan. Nate put his hand on her shoulder in sympathy.

“Poor thing,” he murmured, pulling the quilt up from where it had pooled around her waist and tucking it around her shoulders. “If the bastards hadn’t kept you for questioning all day yesterday, you’d probably be all better by now.”

Thanks to the medical treatment Nadia had received upon arriving home last night, she was feeling a lot better. But if exaggerating her illness would get Nate to leave without telling her anything Mosely would be interested in, then she wasn’t above doing it.

“I feel like I could sleep for a week straight,” she said, and that was pretty close to the truth. She offered him a tenuous smile. “I was going to pump myself full of coffee to stay awake, but now I think maybe it would be better to take a nap.”

Nate looked at the coffee service, which they had barely touched, and wrinkled his nose. “It’s crappy coffee anyway.” She could almost read his thoughts, watching his face as he considered making another wisecrack about Crane and then thought better of it. It made her think he might be capable of learning after all.

“I’ll come by again tomorrow to see how you’re doing,” Nate promised, folding her into a hug that felt better than it had any right to. “Call me if you need anything.” He pulled away from the hug, and a hint of his usual playful smile curved his lips. “I don’t have my phone on me at the moment, but I won’t be able to avoid Dad forever, and once he’s ripped into me, I’ll stop playing hide-and-seek. Until then, if you need me, call Fischer’s number. He’ll be stuck to my side like glue for the rest of the day.”

Nadia returned his smile while fighting a yawn. Funny how feigning the need for a nap had turned into a very real need. “Be careful,” she warned him, the smile fading as fast as it had come. She didn’t think he was in any danger, but she worried his impulsiveness and his desire to find Bishop would lead to disaster for Bishop. Only she couldn’t explain that without initiating the very conversation she was trying to avoid, so she hurried to clarify. “I don’t suppose whoever killed you has any reason to do it again when you’re not going to stay dead, but…”

Nate acknowledged her warning grimly. “I’ll be careful,” he promised.

If only Nadia thought Nate’s idea of “careful” was careful enough.

Nadia could have used her illness as an excuse to stay in bed all day, but the idea of being alone with her thoughts wasn’t the least bit appealing. She needed distraction, even if the available distractions had their own drawbacks, so when lunchtime rolled around, she presented herself in the dining room to face her mother, this time with no sympathy-inducing symptoms to smooth the waters.

To her surprise, Nadia’s father joined them for lunch. Ordinarily, he ate lunch, and often even dinner, at the office. He hugged her warmly, then directed the lunchtime conversation to anything other than the events of the day before. Her mother played along, and Nadia wondered if the two of them had reached some sort of agreement before Nadia had shown up. They were acting like nothing unusual had happened, as if by pretending Nadia hadn’t spent the whole day being questioned at the security station they could make the ugly incident disappear. In truth, Nadia was hardly eager to talk about the subject herself, but it felt strange and unnatural to sit at the table and talk about social events and trivialities after what she’d gone through.

Her mother excused herself as soon as the servants began to clear the lunch dishes, and Nadia had the feeling that for once in her life, Esmeralda Lake had found making small talk burdensome. Nadia would have excused herself just as quickly, except her father stopped her, putting his arm around her shoulders and steering her to a corner where they could talk without being in the servants’ way.

“How are you feeling, my dear?” he asked, looking down at her with concerned eyes.

If he really wanted to hear how she felt, he wouldn’t have asked her here in the bustle of the dining room. Some Executives treated servants as if they were deaf and blind, but her father had never been one of them. With him, private conversations were held in private, and Nadia tamped down a sense of hurt. She’d known better than to expect a genuine outpouring of sympathy from her mother, but she’d hoped for more from her father.

“Much better,” she answered, because that was the answer he was expecting. She hoped he couldn’t see how stung she was.

He nodded approvingly. “Good, good,” he said, making eye contact only briefly. “Are you well enough to attend class this afternoon?”

Nadia blinked in surprise at the question. Of all the things he could be concerned about, that was what he felt was important?

Unlike Employees, Executive kids didn’t go to school but were instead privately tutored in the subjects deemed most relevant to their future lives. In order to provide a social outlet, some Executive families hosted small study groups at their homes, where a tutor was brought in to educate several students. The Lake family hosted an economics session on weekday afternoons, and Nadia was fastidious about attending, even though the group included Jewel and Blair, two-thirds of the Terrible Trio. The group also included her closest friend—other than Nate—Chloe Rathburn. Nadia wasn’t anxious to face any of them today, not even Chloe, who would undoubtedly want a full account of everything that had happened. Chloe was sweet, and Nadia genuinely liked her, but she had never been terribly sympathetic to Nadia’s struggles with Nate. If Chloe were in Nadia’s shoes, she’d do whatever Nate wanted whenever he wanted it, and she didn’t understand why Nadia didn’t feel the same way.

Of course, Nadia had already determined she didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts, and going to class would certainly provide the distraction she needed. She sighed.

“I suppose I am,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve hired a new personal assistant,” her dad said in what seemed to Nadia like a complete non sequitur. He made brief eye contact with her, then looked away again, as if the admission made him uncomfortable. “His name is Robert Dante, and I’ve asked him to stand in for Sully in the afternoons.”

Sully was the servant who was usually on duty to fetch and carry for the students during the classes, because heaven forbid an Executive girl spend a couple of hours without having a servant at her beck and call. Nadia shook her head as she tried to puzzle out what was going on.

“You’re going to have your personal assistant stand around a classroom fetching for us instead of actually having him working for you?” That made no sense whatsoever. Nor did the fact that her father found it necessary to take her aside and announce his new hire.

“He’s an exceptionally bright young man. I think with some additional education, he could make something of himself. I can’t have him officially attend your classes, but I believe he can learn a great deal just by listening in.” Instead of looking at her, Nadia’s dad fidgeted with one of his cuff links.

Gerald Lake did not fidget. Nor did he usually avoid eye contact. Something about this conversation was making him uncomfortable, and Nadia was beginning to suspect she knew what it was.

What were the chances that her father would suddenly hire a new personal assistant and decide that assistant should hang around Nadia’s classes on the very day after Nadia was detained and questioned by Paxco’s chief of security in connection with the Chairman Heir’s murder? It made no sense, and while her father’s explanation sounded logical enough, his body language screamed that there was something amiss.

“I see,” Nadia said slowly. “I should go out of my way to make this bright young man feel welcome in our household. Is that what you’re saying?”

Her father finally met her eyes and held her gaze. There was a hint of relief in his expression, as if the obvious irony of her question had reassured him that she had heard the message he was trying to convey without words.

“Yes,” he said. “That’s an excellent way of putting it.”

So, Mosely had coerced Nadia into spying on Nate, and now he’d inserted someone in her own household to spy on her. Why her father wouldn’t come right out and say it, she didn’t know. Perhaps he’d been given direct orders from the Chairman and felt he was honor bound to obey them. And with only this oblique warning delivered, he could honestly say he hadn’t told her Robert Dante was here to spy on her if Mosely asked. So perhaps she understood his reluctance to speak plainly after all.

“I’ll do my best,” she promised, and her father gave her an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder.

“I know you will.”

Nadia’s home took up the top three floors of one of the Lake Towers. The lowest of those three floors was mostly made up of servants’ quarters, but one large and sunny corner room served as a schoolroom for Nadia’s classes.

An Executive schoolroom looked nothing like the classrooms in ordinary Employee schools. Instead of a bunch of straight-backed chairs lined up facing a teacher’s desk, there was merely a large round table with comfortable ergonomic chairs. You could tell which seat was the teacher’s because of the oversize monitor and whiteboard behind it, but Nadia had always thought the setup looked more like a conference room than a classroom. The table sat on an obviously expensive red and gold rug, and potted plants were artfully scattered throughout. A table in the far corner sported silver urns of coffee and hot water for tea, as well as elegant finger sandwiches and bite-size pastries.

Nadia wasn’t sure what to expect as she made her way from the elevator to the schoolroom. Jewel and Blair were both reluctant students at best, and they often skipped classes unless there was a test or some other pressing need for them to be there. Nadia hoped they would skip today so she didn’t have to spar with them, but she suspected they wouldn’t be able to resist showing up so they could pretend to be sympathetic and concerned while they pressed her for lurid details. Even if she told them nothing, they’d be sure to share a rumor or two they would claim they’d learned straight from her. At least Cherry was a year younger, so Nadia didn’t have to face the entire Trio together. But as concerned as she was with her mean-spirited classmates, she was more concerned about the ominous Robert Dante. She wondered if he was a nasty, weaselly type like Mosely, the kind of person who could give you an ingratiating smile while freezing your marrow with the coldness of his eyes.

Nadia felt uncommonly nervous when she stepped through the doorway into the schoolroom, her eyes darting around quickly to get the lay of the land.

As she’d suspected, Jewel and Blair were both present. They stood together in the far corner of the room, each holding a china cup and saucer while they bent their heads together and talked softly, giggling. Nadia’s immediate assumption was that they were talking about her, but perhaps she was being self-centered.

Chloe was sitting at the table, about as far away from the other girls as she could get in the confines of the schoolroom. Supposedly, racism had been all but abolished in these advanced and civilized times, but the Rathburns were the only black Executive family in Paxco, and Chloe always seemed to hover around the fringes of Executive society. Although she was invited to and attended all the Executive parties and events, she always gave the impression that she was on the outside looking in. Nadia had never been sure whether it was on account of Chloe holding herself aloof or whether it was because the other Executives subtly shut her out.

Nadia had willfully befriended Chloe when they were thirteen, more because she was stubbornly unwilling to accept Chloe’s fringe status than because they had so much in common. They weren’t the kind of “best friends” Nadia read about in books or saw on TV, not the kind who had long, deep conversations about boys and life and their hopes for the future. For instance, Nadia would never tell Chloe the truth about her relationship with Nate. But they were friends nonetheless, and they had fun together.

Chloe noticed Nadia’s arrival first, and when Nadia met her eyes, she knew at once that something was wrong. Chloe smiled at her and waved, but there was something slightly off about her expression, and she quickly looked away, cupping her hands around her coffee cup and staring moodily at the steam rising from its surface. Hardly the greeting Nadia was expecting. And that was when it occurred to Nadia that she hadn’t had any phone messages from Chloe this morning. Surely a true friend should have at least called to see if she was okay.

Out of the corner of her eye, Nadia saw Jewel and Blair watching her and smirking. Nadia could just imagine what had happened here before she’d arrived. Jewel and Blair had probably talked extensively—and loudly—about Nadia’s fifteen hours of questioning at the security station, speculating on the possibility of her being guilty of something. Maybe they’d even suggested that they were taking a social risk by attending classes at Nadia’s home, that the taint of Nadia’s potential involvement with the Chairman Heir’s murder might rub off on them.

Jewel and Blair were both so highly born that they could afford the social risk of being in Nadia’s presence. But Chloe, already on the fringes, could not. And the bitches had made sure she knew it.

Nadia swallowed hard and tried to act as though she were oblivious to the undercurrents. Fuming quietly, she headed toward the refreshments table. And that was when she got her first look at Robert Dante.

He was standing stiffly, with his back against the wall, hands clasped behind him, looking straight ahead in the perfect imitation of a servant making himself unobtrusive while standing at the ready.

She guessed his age as somewhere around eighteen—unusually young for a servant who was meant to interact with his Executive employers. He should have had to work his way up to the position, but she supposed being a spy meant he could skip all that. Well over six feet tall, he had shoulders so broad they seemed to strain the limits of his jacket. The formal livery couldn’t hide the muscular build that reminded her of a professional athlete, and his deeply bronzed skin and freckled nose suggested he spent a fair amount of time in the sun. Not at all the look of someone who hoped to make a living as “personal assistant” to a man like Nadia’s father. Not what she would imagine a spy looked like, either, though she supposed a spy who looked like a spy wouldn’t be much use.

Ordinarily, Nadia would introduce herself to a new member of her household, even if girls like Jewel and Blair would sneer at her for acknowledging a servant as a fellow human being. However, since Dante was here to spy on her, she didn’t feel inclined to indulge in social niceties, so she tried her best to ignore him as she fixed herself a cup of tea.

He was hard to ignore, and she found her gaze darting in his direction again as she dunked her tea bag. If she had to be spied on by someone, at least that someone was conspicuously nice to look at.

Maybe he sensed her looking at him, because he suddenly met her eyes. She looked away hastily, hoping she wasn’t blushing. Just because she was engaged to Nate didn’t mean she didn’t notice good-looking guys like any other girl, but she didn’t want anyone to notice her noticing a servant like that.

Bracing herself for awkwardness, Nadia turned and headed toward the conference table. Jewel and Blair were still smirking in the corner, and Chloe was still fascinated by something in the depths of her coffee cup. Nadia considered sitting on the far side of the table, but she always sat next to Chloe, and she wasn’t going to allow social politics to change that. She took her seat and sipped her tea, painfully aware of the wall of silence beside her.

Nadia felt as if everyone in the room was watching her every move—with the exception of Chloe, who was trying to pretend she didn’t exist. She felt sure Dante was staring at her, spying on her, but she didn’t dare glance his way again. She looked over at Jewel and Blair and saw that they had both locked on to her and were heading over to the table.

“You poor thing,” Jewel said with stunning insincerity as she set her cup carelessly on the table and reached for Nadia’s hand to give it a squeeze. She inserted herself into the space between Nadia’s and Chloe’s chairs, standing so her backside was directly in Chloe’s face. “I can’t imagine what you must have gone through yesterday.” She shuddered dramatically. Behind her, Chloe slid her chair over, getting Jewel’s butt out of her face—and putting more distance between her and Nadia.

Jewel wanted to play at being a sympathetic friend? Fine. Nadia knew just how to beat her at that game.

Nadia rose to her feet and threw her arms around Jewel, hugging her hard. “It was awful,” she confirmed as Jewel awkwardly hugged her back, her body stiff as a board. Nadia had to suppress a smile, knowing how badly Jewel wanted to pull away. But pulling away from a hug she had seemed to solicit herself would be openly rude, and while subtle, underhanded cruelty was accepted and sometimes even encouraged in girls of their station, open rudeness was not. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your kindness and support in such a difficult time.”

“Well, um, of course,” Jewel said brightly, still trapped in Nadia’s hug.

Nadia wasn’t sure what prompted her to do it, but she couldn’t help darting another look in Dante’s direction. And yes, he was looking at her, with a small smile on his lips and a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. His smile broadened when their eyes met, and he held her gaze for a fleeting moment before he returned to proper servant mode, wiping the expression from his face and staring straight ahead.

Nadia finally released Jewel from the hug, pleased to have so successfully fended off her first attack. But though she liked to think of herself as an understanding person, hurt and disappointment compelled her to voice one more thought.

“It’s in times like these that you find out who your true friends are,” she said, smiling warmly at Jewel. Chloe had moved far enough away that Nadia couldn’t even see her in her peripheral vision, but she knew her barb had hit home when she saw the smug satisfaction in Jewel’s eyes.

Nadia immediately felt guilty. It wasn’t like she didn’t understand. Chloe couldn’t afford to take any chances with her reputation, especially not in these critical years during which her marriage would be arranged. In fact, she probably shouldn’t have shown up for the class at all. Taking potshots at her was unfair.

Mad at herself for speaking before thinking, Nadia sat back down and picked up her cup of tea just as their tutor arrived to begin class.

Usually, Nadia enjoyed her economics class. She wasn’t a big fan of math as a general rule, but the teacher, Mr. Guthrie, had a contagious enthusiasm for the topic that rarely failed to draw her in. He was so good that sometimes he could win over even Jewel, an indifferent student if there ever was one. But today, there was so much tension in the room that no one seemed to be concentrating on the lesson, not even Nadia. Chloe was taking pains to ignore her, though she didn’t look happy about it, and anything Nadia tried to say to ease the strain would only make things worse. She was also aware of Jewel and Blair reveling in the discomfort, sharing smug, superior smiles and writing notes to one another that made them giggle.

Mr. Guthrie noticed the passing of notes and gave the girls a disapproving frown, which they completely ignored. The poor teacher was at a disadvantage where his students were concerned, being a lowly Employee who couldn’t afford to ruffle any feathers. The frown was the only sign of censure he betrayed as he continued with his lecture.

Nadia’s attention continued to wander, and she found her gaze frequently drawn to Dante, who stood silent and unmoving at his post against the wall. She felt like he was watching her at all times, but she soon realized that he wasn’t actually looking at her, but at Mr. Guthrie. Nadia remembered her father mentioning that Dante was a “bright young man” who would benefit from the classes. She’d thought that was merely an excuse for his presence in the schoolroom, but he seemed to be genuinely interested—certainly more interested than any of Mr. Guthrie’s official students on that particular day.

After forty-five minutes, Mr. Guthrie declared it time for a break, and Nadia considered the possibility of making her excuses. Only the knowledge that Jewel and Blair would take her withdrawal as a victory kept her from leaving.

Usually, Nadia and Chloe would spend these break times talking, but as soon as Mr. Guthrie called a halt, Chloe was out of her chair and heading toward the ladies’ room. Nadia had a feeling her friend was going to spend the entire break in there, just to avoid having to talk to her—and to avoid having to pointedly not talk to her.

Nadia pretended nothing unusual was happening, hiding her feelings behind a serene expression. She headed over to the refreshments table to make another cup of tea. To her annoyance, Jewel followed her, putting her hand on her arm to stop her just short of the table. Jewel hunched her shoulders a bit and leaned toward her as if sharing a secret, but she didn’t particularly lower her voice.

“I wanted to speak with you while we have a moment,” Jewel said as Nadia came to a halt.

This can’t be good, Nadia thought as she looked at Jewel with an expression she was sure adequately displayed her complete lack of interest in whatever the other girl had to say. But Jewel was never one to take a hint when she didn’t want to.

“I couldn’t help noticing during class that your servant was listening in.” Jewel waved a hand vaguely in Dante’s direction. “I thought you might have a word with him about it before class resumes.”

Despite her respect for manners where her peers were concerned, Jewel obviously felt no compunction about being openly rude to servants. She might have made a pretense of keeping this a quiet discussion between the two of them, but there was no way Dante hadn’t heard her.

Technically, it was bad form for a servant to openly pay attention to what his “superiors” were saying in his presence. Servants were supposed to be as unobtrusive and unobservant as pieces of furniture, so that the Executives they served could pretend they weren’t there. But Nadia had never been a stickler for such conventions, and even if she had …

Nadia blinked innocently and cocked her head. “Really? How shocking. Shall I order him to stuff his ears with wax so he can’t hear Mr. Guthrie speaking?” She frowned, as if flummoxed by the problem. “But that would make it difficult for him to hear any requests for service as well.” She glanced at Dante and saw that while he was looking straight ahead, his lips were twitching as if he was fighting a smile. Clearly imitating a blind and deaf piece of furniture was not his forte. It was lucky Jewel had her back turned to him or she’d probably be demanding his head on a platter.

Jewel held her nose a little higher in the air. “Make jokes if you must, but it’s unseemly behavior for a servant. That other one knew his place.”

“That other one?” Nadia asked, unable to keep her voice from rising just a bit. “You mean Sully? Who’s been attending us for two years? Do you mean to tell me after all that time you don’t know his name?” That seemed to be taking the superiority act a little far, even for Jewel.

“You’re missing the point. In light of recent events, you would be wise to exercise extra caution in regards to propriety. There are those who might take offense at your servant’s behavior and take your unwillingness to correct it as a sign of moral turpitude.”

There was an implicit threat evident in Jewel’s words, and Nadia knew she should take that threat seriously. Jewel could easily start a rumor that the male servants at Nadia’s house behaved in an “unseemly” manner, which could lead the most spiteful and jealous of the gossipmongers to start speculating about just what kind of unseemly behavior was involved. Such rumors could eventually become stories about how the servants were servicing Nadia in bed, or something equally ridiculous.

But really, how seriously could she take someone who used the term “moral turpitude” in everyday speech?

“I’m touched to know you’ve taken such a keen interest in preserving my reputation,” Nadia said, then affected another puzzled frown. “Or is it my servant you’ve taken such an interest in?” she asked, making a show of looking Dante up and down. “I must admit, he is nice to look at, but I had no idea you would find him so … distracting.”

The color that rose to Jewel’s cheeks was quite gratifying indeed. Nadia wasn’t as good at starting rumors as Jewel was—she suspected the art required more malice than she herself was capable of—but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do it. Jewel liked to think of herself as the queen bee among the upper echelons of the Executive teens, and she and the rest of the Trio did wield a great deal of social power, but there were plenty of people jealous enough of her to revel in a good, unsavory rumor.

Nadia dropped her voice to something just above a whisper, through with the games. “Neither of us is going to come out of it unstained if you take this any further. I suggest for your own sake that you pay more attention to your lessons and less attention to who else may or may not be listening.” How had she ended up defending the guy she knew was here to spy on her? If she’d been using her head instead of reacting emotionally, she might have been able to use Jewel’s complaint as an excuse to get Dante out of the schoolroom and away from her.

Jewel smiled, a razor-sharp expression that held no warmth. “I was merely trying to be helpful.”

Nadia didn’t dignify that with an answer, and was more relieved than she wanted to admit when Jewel gave up and flounced off. Hostilities weren’t over—they never were, where Jewel was concerned—but at least they were on temporary hiatus.

Nadia began fixing the cup of tea she no longer wanted, and she was surprised when Dante finally left his post at the wall and made his way to the table beside her. He made a show of gathering the trash and dirty dishes onto a tray, but if he were just doing his duty he would have waited until after the break was over.

“I’m sorry if I put you in an awkward position,” he said in a voice so low she could barely hear him. “I’ll try not to catch her attention again.”

Nadia dunked her tea bag a little more vigorously than necessary as she took a sidelong glance at him. His eyes were a green-flecked brown, and they sparkled with humor. He must have really enjoyed listening to a pair of Executive girls arguing over him.

“If you’re going to play at being a servant,” she said in an equally low voice, “you should at least try to act like one.” No well-trained servant would address his employer’s daughter with such ease and familiarity, especially when they were close enough in age that it could easily be construed as flirting.

Dante arched an eyebrow at her. “I’m not sure what you mean,” he said with a pretty good impression of puzzlement. “All I wanted to do was apologize for my mistake. And if you dunk that tea bag one more time, your tea is going to be dark enough to pass for coffee.”

Nadia withdrew the tea bag—he was right, and the tea was likely undrinkable—and dropped it on the tray he extended to her.

“Will there be anything else, Miss Lake?” he asked, suddenly turning formal again.

In her peripheral vision, Nadia saw that the other girls were back in the schoolroom, and she figured even if they weren’t looking directly at her, they were very aware of her and—thanks to Jewel—of Dante. So that was why he’d turned formal again after his overly familiar teasing.

“No,” she said with a sigh, wishing for a simpler life. “You’ve done quite enough already.”