that Knox wouldn’t go along with it now that he wouldn’t be marrying Lila. “I didn’t—” My voice broke, and I cleared my throat. “The prime minister said it was only temporary—”
“Not that temporary,” he said. “The wedding’s set for New Year’s Eve. Lila didn’t do much to help with planning, so you’ve got a lot of work ahead of you.”
“And what if I don’t want to marry you?” I said. “Do I get a say in this?”
The corners of his mouth tugged upward into a darkly amused smile. “Considering Lila didn’t want to marry me either, I’d say no.”
Terrific. On top of everything else, now I had to worry about explaining this to Benjy. “I have a boyfriend.”
“Yes, you do,” he said. “Me.”
“One I actually like.”
“You’ll learn to like me eventually,” said Knox. “Most people do.”
I bit back a retort and ran my tongue over my teeth. They were different, too—straighter, and my front teeth were smaller now. I touched my new face again, mapping out the new contours, and instinctively I brushed my fingertips against the back of my neck to reassure myself of my new mark. Except—
My blood ran cold. Three ridges to indicate a III, not the VII that should have been there. I pulled my hair away from my neck and turned so Knox could see it. “What’s there?” I said urgently. “What rank?”
“A VII,” he said, the confusion in his voice clear. When I turned back around, I must’ve looked as panicked as I felt, because he reached forward without asking. I leaned away, clutching the sheets. He paused. “I’m not going to hurt you. May I?”
Wordlessly I nodded, and he ran his fingers against my mark.
“You were a III?” he said. “Christ, that’s rotten.”
He could tell. The ink said I was a VII, just like Daxton had promised, but the ridges underneath my skin were still there. And if Knox could tell, anyone could. My heart hammered. “They said I’d be a VII, not—”
“Insurance,” said Knox. “They need a way to control you and prove you’re not Lila if they have to. Don’t worry about it, though. It won’t come to that, and no one in their right mind will check your rank.”
I forced myself to breathe steadily. It would be a problem after I ran, but until then, Knox was right. There was no reason for anyone to think I wasn’t Lila, nothing to connect her to an Extra III who was supposed to be in Denver. No one but Tabs, and she was already dead.
No, Tabs wasn’t the only person who knew where I’d been. Daxton had no way of knowing about Benjy, though. He couldn’t.
But what if he did?
I pushed the blanket away and swung my legs around to the side of the bed, ignoring the sharp pain as my feet touched the floor. Something felt off, but whatever else they’d done to me didn’t matter. I had to find a way to warn Benjy.
I pushed myself off the bed and stood. No, not stood—I swayed, seconds away from falling, and my legs shook under the stress of bearing my weight. Shit.
“Whoa, what do you think you’re doing?” Knox reached out to steady me, and when I tried to take a step, my foot caught on the lush carpet. Yes, something was definitely wrong.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I clumsily fell back onto the bed. When I stuck my legs out to see what was wrong with them, my mouth dropped open. They were several inches longer. And thinner.
It wasn’t just my face and my hands and my hip. I was taller, too.
Knox sat down beside me. “They did a good job on you,” he said, glancing at my legs. “If I didn’t know, I wouldn’t be able to tell.”
“Good for them,” I said faintly. “I need some air.”
“Excellent idea. I could use some myself.”
Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to stand on my unsteady legs. This time I knew what to expect.
“Let me,” said Knox, offering me his arm. I pushed it away and shuffled across the carpet. I needed to do this on my own.
By the time I finally reached the door, I was panting, my muscles burned, and a bead of sweat trickled down my forehead. Knox had left it open, and I poked my head around the corner, only to see a long white hallway that looked about a mile long. My heart sank.
“Stubborn little thing, aren’t you?” Knox reappeared beside me with a wheelchair. “You really should learn when to ask for help. There’s no shame in it, you know.”
“I’m not letting you push me around in that thing,” I said flatly.
“You have two choices—stay in this tiny room all day and mope, or go for a ride.” He paused. “Well, you could also try to walk farther than you already have, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Doubt the doctors would, either.”
I didn’t particularly care about what the doctors thought—or the fact that Knox thought the bedroom was tiny—but my legs were shaking so badly underneath me that my knees were practically knocking together. A wheelchair might have been embarrassing, but it had to be better than collapsing.
“Promise to take me wherever I want to go?” I said.
Knox placed his hand over his heart. “You have my word as your loving and devoted fiancé.”
I rolled my eyes and eased myself down into the chair. My legs ached with pain beyond anything I’d ever felt before, and I could feel where they’d elongated the bones and tissue. No wonder they’d kept me unconscious.
“Where to, Your Highness?” said Knox as he handed me a blanket. I tucked it in around my lap, grateful for the warmth.
“Think you can manage a tour?” He’d never let me leave the building, but I might as well learn the layout.
Knox pushed me forward. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The long hallway was only the start of it. Knox wheeled me down another one, then another, and another, and I struggled to remember where we’d turned. It wasn’t until I started imagining the hallways as the sewers that I figured out a way to keep track. I knew the sewer system better than most city workers, and it was dangerous to get lost down there. I was willing to bet it wasn’t half as dangerous as it would be getting lost in this place, though.
“Where are the exits?” I said. The doors all blended into the walls, and none of them looked like they would lead to the streets.
“Thinking about leaving us so soon?” said Knox.
“There might be a fire,” I said lamely, and I could practically hear his grin as he pushed me into an elevator. They were rare in the Heights, most being rickety and the sort that broke down once a week, and I hated the way I felt trapped inside them. But I was stuck in the chair for now, and I doubted this elevator broke down much at all. It was exquisite, with the ceiling made of white molding and buttons that shone like gold. Mirrors surrounded
