the same way? Or would I be different—too different for him to love anymore, at least the way he loved me now?
And was losing him really worth it?
Yes, I decided. Benjy deserved better than this. He deserved better than me. But if by some miracle he still wanted me when this was over, then I would be here for him. I wasn’t going to leave him, or Tabs, or Nina, no matter what it cost me.
In a month, Benjy would choose what life he wanted and if I would be in it. But this—right here, right now—this was my choice to make sure I’d still be here when he did.
The wait was torture. There were no clocks or televisions in the room, and by the time Marion came to get me, I had bitten my ragged nails so short that they bled. She took one look at my hands and dragged me to a bathroom across the hall.
“You’ll have to stop that before you ruin your hands. Completely unattractive,” she said as she ran a trickle of cold water over my fingertips. I hissed at the pain, but she didn’t let go until they were clean. “There we go. Now c’mon, they’re waiting.”
Taking me by the arm, Marion led me down the narrow corridor until we reached a velvet curtain. Behind it I could hear the buzz of conversation and laughter, and warm light spilled out from underneath.
“You don’t have to say anything,” she said. “I’ll handle the bidding, and after it’s over, I’ll escort you to the room. It’s simple.”
There was nothing simple about any of this. As I wiped my sweaty palms on my dress, all I could think of was Benjy. He might hate me for this. He might never look at me the same way. But this would give him a chance at a real future, and it was worth it.
When I stepped through the curtain, the crowd quieted, and a hundred pairs of eyes focused on me. Marion nudged me forward onto the small stage, and above us, a blinding light warmed my skin.
“Good evening, my loves,” she said, and the sea of people in front of me clapped and hooted. “You’ve all been waiting so patiently for this very special moment, and as promised, one of you lucky gentlemen will be richly rewarded. For those of you who are interested—and don’t be coy, we know you all are—tonight’s bidding will start at one thousand gold pieces.”
The air whooshed out of my lungs. One thousand gold pieces was more than I would have made in ten years as a III. There was nothing about me that made one night in my bed worth that much money. Maybe I was right—maybe no one would want to bid for me. Maybe this would be a bust, and I’d have to go back to the group home, or Tabs’s place, and I’d get to apologize to Benjy and—
“One thousand gold pieces!” a booming voice from the back of the room called, and I closed my eyes, fighting the urge to be sick.
Over the next few minutes, the bids steadily climbed into absurdly high amounts, and eventually it came down to two men: a mustached whale in the front near the stage, and another who was too far back to see. By then the sum was astronomical, and when the number hit thirty thousand gold pieces, the mustached bidder in the front backed down, leaving my fate to the man whose face I couldn’t see.
Wild applause filled the club, and Marion took me by the arm again, trembling with excitement as she led me through the curtain. “No one has ever outbid Minister Bradley before,” she said, stunned. “Thirty thousand—I’ve never—can you believe—and for you, of all people—”
For me, of all people. I wanted to be offended, but she was right. “How much of that is mine?” I said, my voice shaking.
“Half. I’ve never had a girl make that much her first year, let alone her first night.” She stopped in the hallway and faced me, her nose an inch from mine. “You will treat the winner with the respect that kind of money deserves, do you understand me? You will give him whatever he wants, and you will make sure you do it with a smile on your face. He paid for something special, and you will give him something special.”
I nodded, my mouth dry. The full impact of what this meant hadn’t hit me until now, and my insides clenched uncomfortably as I followed her upstairs. This was really happening, and there was no backing out now.
Marion escorted me to a luxurious bedroom with a four-poster bed so wide there was barely enough space to walk beside it. Just like the dressing room, there were no windows, and the only door was the one she closed behind me. Once again I had to wait.
I sat on the edge of the bed and drew my knees to my chin, and I tried to pretend I was somewhere else. At home with Benjy, curled up underneath a quilt as he read to me. Sitting in front of him at school as he tossed me drawings, our way of passing notes. Even walking through the rancid sewers, so long as he was with me and I wasn’t in this room, waiting for a stranger to do whatever he wanted to me.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm my racing heart. It would be all right. Tabs did this all the time, and she was fine. Countless girls did. And for a hell of a lot less than fifteen thousand gold pieces, too. With that kind of money, I didn’t have to stay here. In the morning, I could pack my things, take the money, and run. Find a room to rent and stay there until Benjy was ranked. After seventeen years of never having a say in my own life, I’d finally be the one in control. I would put a smile on my face and pretend that I was having the best night of my life if that’s what it took to make that happen.
The door opened, and my breath caught in my throat.
The Shield from the market stood in the hallway, flanked by a pair of men wearing the same black-and-silver uniform from before. One was a stranger, but the other I recognized from the group home. Sampson.
Instead of saying anything, the Shield stepped inside the tiny room and bent down, looking me straight in the eye. I stared back at him, refusing to smile or wink or any other cutesy gesture Tabs might do to get out of this situation. Several seconds passed before he straightened and nodded to the men behind him. “It’s her.”
One of them mumbled a few words into his cuff, and the Shield from the market gestured for me to stay put. Had he been the one to buy me? How could he have possibly afforded me on a Shield’s salary?
Instead of taking a seat next to me, however, he stood by the door, facing me but not looking at me. The urge to ask what he was waiting for bubbled up inside me, but the words caught in my throat. It was obvious what he was doing; he was making sure I didn’t escape.
This time there was a clock in the room, and over forty minutes passed before I heard a shuffle in the hallway. The men outside the door saluted in crisp unison, and they stepped aside. A tall man in a black overcoat entered the room.
I froze.
“Hello,” he said with a voice that everyone in the country would recognize. “What’s your name?”
I clutched my dress so tightly that the fabric began to rip. “Kitty,” I croaked.
The corners of his dark eyes crinkled in amusement. He removed his hat, revealing a high forehead, bushy eyebrows, and dark hair that was graying at the temples. If I’d had any doubts before, now I was positive.
Prime Minister Daxton Hart. The position was supposed to be temporary, but when the elections came every four years, there was only one name on the ballot.
“Kitty,” he said, as if he was testing out my name. “Is that short for something?”
“Yeah,”
