7

Roman had already left when I crawled out of bed the following morning. Another restless night. Another endless day yawning in front of me.

He did return around midmorning with a brown paper bag. "Your grocery list."

"Thanks." I took the bag from him and deposited it on the kitchen table, studying his expression, trying to discern his mood after last night.

He had every right to be angry with me. I'd invaded his private sanctuary. I'd snooped through his personal belongings and uncovered his secrets. I wasn't proud of my actions, and I'd had my reasons, but the Sisters of Capra were only part of it. Curiosity had been the other part and that just wasn't a very good excuse.

His mask, however, was firmly in place. His eyes were the color of stone and held about the same emotional depth.

He barely spared me a glance before he turned to go.

"Roman."

He stilled, then slowly turned to face me again. He didn't ask, but of course he knew what was on my mind. "If you planned to somehow use that information, you severely underestimate me."

"That was never my intention, else I wouldn't have shown you." I gave up any leverage the moment I did that. "I'm sure you've gotten rid of the evidence. Or found a better hiding spot. It's my word against yours, and we both know how that works in our world. So, no, I never planned to use it against you."

He stood there, his jaw squaring as he looked at me. "Why?"

Why did I betray him? Because, yes, that's what I did when I went snooping in his study. Why did I admit to it? It came down to one and the same thing, really.

He was a warden and I was a Sister of Capra.

That's why.

We both had secrets we could never divulge.

My betrayal and deceit was for a just cause, but it was still betrayal. It was still deceit. I was married to a warden and the Sisterhood would always find ways to use that. They already had, when they'd used my access to Julian Edgar to get his handprint.

"I can't trust you and you can't trust me, and now we both know it," I finally said to Roman. I'd never breathe a word about the Sisterhood to him, but I could do this. "This is about as honest as our relationship can get."

I fully expected him to demand an explanation. I was prepared with derivative answers that shamed my character but honored my loyalties. If you tell me I can't know something, I won't stop until I do. For a female in the Eastern Coalition, that was practically a cardinal sin.

Roman didn't demand anything. He looked at me a long moment, then turned to leave. "I'll be home late. Don't wait up for me."

I didn't, and the next morning, again, he was gone before I stumbled out of bed. But after that conversation, I used my hours to think more about the Sisters of Capra and less about the miserable state of my marriage.

The organization was so secretive, the only members I knew was my mom, who'd inducted me into the Sisterhood, and Rose, my point of contact.

We were pragmatic about the world we lived in.

We didn't want to burn Capra down to the ground.

Our duty to society would always play a pivotal role. I was a wife, a mother, then a Sister of Capra. Children were our future. Without the next generation, there'd be nothing to fight for. That much my mom had instilled in me.

But our world could be better.

The balance of power could be adjusted.

Women didn't have to be second-class citizens in order to be wives and mothers. We wanted a voice. We wanted autonomy. We wanted equal standing in society.

That is what I knew of the Sisterhood.

Did Sector Five and what I'd learned of the Outerlanders change any of that? I wasn't sure. The Sisterhood was based on the founding principles of the Eastern Coalition. Some of those founding principles were most certainly a lie. Our foundation had cracks.

But if we burned Capra down to the ground, where would we go? The Outerlands wasn't dead, but it was still an unsavory place. The Smoke was a mystery I wasn't about to put my faith in.

So maybe nothing would change.

And maybe everything would change.

What I'd seen, what I'd discovered… well, it was the kind of information that could—should—cause a fundamental shift in momentum for our cause. Rose had given me my first mission and I'd successfully delivered Julian Edgar's handprint to her. She couldn't tell me why it was so important, only that it was. She'd said it would be used to good effect when the time was ripe.

When I'd asked when that time would be, she'd said, Every rebellion needs a spark. We'll know it when we see it.

I didn't know much, but Sector Five and the Outerlands felt like it could be a pretty big spark.

As soon as I was released from house arrest, I'd pay Rose a visit. Tell her everything. The Sisterhood would know what to do with the lies.

For the first time in days, I felt lighter, as if some of the weight of responsibility had shifted.

The sun had gone down by the time Roman got home. I'd already eaten dinner on my own and soaked in the tub until my skin pruned. I'd already dressed for bed in a camisole and cotton shorts.

"Georga?" he called from the passage.

"I'm here!" I grabbed a hoodie from the drawer and tugged it over my head as I perched on the edge of the bed.

I wasn't sure what to expect, why he was seeking me out after ignoring me for days, but it couldn't be good.

My gaze flickered to the doorway as he entered.

As per usual, he was dressed from head to toe in warden black. But this evening, instead of the windbreaker, he wore a black overcoat that met the top of his black boots. It looked more formal, leant an additional air of authority to a man who already had more than his fair share.

I didn't ask where he'd come from or where he was going. As I'd learned long ago, that was an exercise in futility.

I fisted my hands inside the hoodie sleeves for comfort. "I saved dinner for you. It's in the oven."

"Do you want to go to The Smoke?"

My thoughts stuttered.

"I'm offering to take you," he said into my shocked silence. "Tonight. If that's what you want."

He sounded completely serious.

He looked completely serious.

There was no way in hell he was serious.

I eyed him warily. "Is this some kind of test?"

"It's just an offer."

Then why did it feel like the start of another battle of wills between us?

I launched off the bed to my feet. "You want to take me to The Smoke?"

"I don't want to." He shoved a hand through his hair, his gaze creasing into me as stepped deeper into the room. "But I will."

He was serious.

"Why?"

"Because you hid in the lockbox of my truck to get outside the walls," he said. "You stole the keys to my office and flaunted the evidence in my face with total disregard for the consequences."

I had a rather healthy regard for the consequences, actually. I just didn't allow them to rule me. There was a difference. "And instead of punishing me, you want to reward me?"

He was halfway inside the room, and he didn't come closer. "This isn't about punishment or reward."

I threw my hands up. "Then what on earth is it about?"

"When you decide you want something, you forge ahead, stubborn and reckless." The way he said that, it bordered on an insult. "Right now, you want the truth, and you don't want it from me. It's only a matter of time before you go searching in The Smoke for those answers. Tell me I'm wrong."

In all honesty, I hadn't thought The Smoke was an option.

Apparently it was.

"You won't succeed without my help," Roman said flatly. "This way, at the very least, I can improve your chances and be there for damage control."

I had to ask. "But you can't guarantee my safety?"

"There's no safety beyond the walls of Capra." His jaw worked, his gaze boring into me. "You'd be a fool to think there is."

I was no fool, but I'd risk just about anything for the truth…even if the truth was this heavy weight I'd been carrying for days. I couldn't shy away from it. That just wasn't who I was.

Roman, on the other hand, was risking everything for nothing.

"It wouldn't look good for you if I'm caught," I said to him. "And what happens to your lofty ambitions if you're found to be aiding and abetting me?"

He smirked. "I don't plan on either of us getting caught."

"You just said there are no guarantees," I pointed out. "You've never had a problem with forcing me to live in blissful ignorance before. What's changed?"

"You won't care to hear this, but ignorance is bliss," he said, as only a man who'd never lived in ignorance could say. "The truth won't make you happy. But you know too much and too little. Half-truths are dangerous to yourself and everyone around you. That's what's changed."

I felt like that was only half an explanation. "You could send me off to rehab. You could keep me under permanent house arrest. You could leave me to make my own mistakes without risking your career and possibly even your freedom."

"None of those options sit well with me." He came forward and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Is it so hard to imagine that I'd want to protect you from the dangers both outside the walls and within?"

I had to think about that, but only for a couple of seconds.

"It's not hard at all," I said softly. "Okay, let's go to The Smoke."

"Or you could stay." He cocked his head to level a searching look at me, his voice low and deeply compelling, as if he were trying to stamp it on my soul. "You could stay and trust my truths."

My gaze held his, and familiar warmth swept through me, and I was surprised to realize how much I truly did trust him. "I trust that you'll always do everything within your power to protect me, to keep me safe. I trust you with my life."

"But you don't trust me with the truth."

"I'm sorry." I honestly wish I could. But I didn't know how to. "I feel like my world has been shaken inside out and upside down. I barely trust the solid ground beneath my feet. You said you've never lied to me and I believe you, Roman. It's just that I'm not sure your truth could ever be the same as mine."

I was fully aware that went both ways. I could never reveal anything about the Sisterhood. There were gray spaces where our lives could never overlap. I was finally starting to appreciate that from his point of view as well, and maybe I'd been too harsh on both of us. Betrayal, lies and deceit were colors on a spectrum that didn't belong in our gray.

"I understand." Roman gave a slow nod and stepped back, his hand falling from my shoulder. "We'll be gone for a couple of days—"

"What?" I cut in, my brow travelling up my forehead. A couple of days? This wasn't just a sneak trip to The Smoke? I had no idea what was going on, what was going on with Roman. "Um, where will we stay?"

"I've got that covered," Roman said. "But you should pack what you'll need. And wear comfortable shoes. It's a three hour hike."

"We're walking?" After being cooped up in this cabin, I wasn't opposed to a hike. "I assumed I'd be sneaking out in the lockbox on your truck."

"The Guard has beefed up security at the gate," he said. "They're searching all vehicles in and out."

"I thought wardens were a law unto themselves."

A hint of humor touched his mouth. "We are, but in this instance, the High Wardens are in agreement with Capra's council. Your escapade has ruffled everyone's feathers."