“I do believe your spirits have been polished somewhat,” said Ganymede as we walked down the main marble staircase to the dining room.

  It was true.

  I walked lighter, with a crisp new shirt issued by the Estate while the other, covered in pirate gore, was sent to be washed.

  My hair was styled too, more than it had ever been in my life. Ganymede had found a way to pin it up so the choppy ends from my hacking job with the stolen scissors weren’t as obvious. Although I looked nothing of the sort, I felt like a princess floating through a castle. A daydream I’d allow myself, just this once.

  Ganymede had combed his hair too, his fiery locks untangled and set in place. Whether that was normal practice for an android, I had no idea, but it made him happy and I wasn’t about to ruin that.

  “Everything seems better when there’s food,” I replied.

  “And of course this has nothing to do with talking to Master Endavell-Alvidrez earlier? It’s strange, I don’t remember seeing you two get acquainted, but you seemed to have met already-”

  “Shh, maybe not so loud,” I hissed as we came up to the dining room, with classically carved double doors and two guards to stand watch before them, “We can talk about it later.”

  The guards scanned the tattoo on my forearm with a handheld device that dinged green. Satisfied that I was allowed through, they opened the doors for Ganymede and I to enter and witness the wonders inside.

  Steaming mountains of food decked two separate tables with creations even my imagination could never have come up with. Towers of bread defied the laws the physics around some cooked bird that had been roasted with a sickly-sweet glazing, with a rainbow of fruits, vegetables and sauces to accompany each dish.

  All the Relegates sat at the right-hand table while the other waited for its chairs to be filled, overlooked by a crystal chandelier cut into the shape of a diamond, reflecting spotlights all around the room.

  Everything was beautiful, a reminder of what we would never have.

  I took up an empty seat next to Rolene, who eyed the food with the same hungry expression as everyone else, glancing occasionally towards the clock, as Ganymede took up position behind me with the other androids, all standing behind the participants they’d been loaned to.

  “I take it we’re too good for the Chancellor and his family to sit with,” I quipped, noting the empty table awaiting its guests.

  “It’s a power tactic,” she replied.

  “What? Sitting at a different table?”

  “No, making us wait to eat. They’re late.”

  I snuck a grape from a fruit bowl that lay close.

  “Then let’s not wait.” I shrugged.

  “Miss Ayla!” squeaked Ganymede, loud as he dared so as not to bring attention to us, “You can’t take food before the Chancellor and his family arrive, it’s improper!”

  Rolene shrugged and took a grape of her own, popping it in her mouth.

  “Good thing we weren’t raised to be proper, then, isn’t it android?”

  I snorted at Ganymede’s exasperated face until the doors creaked open again and the Chancellor and his family prowled through like a pack of wolves, followed by news reporters flashing their cameras, which the guards held back far from the double doors.

  We all stood up to greet them, knowing at least that much about propriety. Although maybe it had less to do with propriety and more to do with not wanting to be turned into robot slaves.

  The Chancellor took his seat at the head of the table, once again wearing a tailored suit and not a single hair out of place as Shirley wore a necklace of diamonds sharp enough to cut.

  Elian marched behind them with his siblings, a younger brother and sister, no hint of a smile on his face and his back rod straight as if the taut string of etiquette training ran deep through his core.

  He kept his eyes fixed straight ahead as he sat next to his father who was already fixing himself a glass of wine.

  “Please,” he told us, “Be seated.”

  With a cacophony of scraping chairs, we dug into the banquet, savouring every mouth-watering bite like it was our last.

  A few of the project participants snuck pieces of bread into their pockets for safe-keeping later in case this feast was a one-off and the other meals would be more like those from the institutions, but most were content to enjoy this rare moment of luxury.

  The gentle buzz of conversation filled the room, with me mainly talking to Rolene, who introduced me to Clynn, a nice young man from another institution, apparently called Ylrevaw, with a special talent for making things disappear then reappear in his hand as if by magic.

  “How did you do that?” I asked when he opened his palm to reveal a small button he’d made vanish into thin air moments earlier, but he simply tapped his nose and placed it back in his pocket without a word.

  Everyone was doing their best to lift each other’s spirits after the day’s events, although no one admitted to it, and somehow it was working. Somehow, despite, or maybe because of, the threat of death and worse, we’d come closer together and formed something unexpected. A family in all but name, or at least the beginnings of one.

  Many of the project participants started telling their own stories from the institutions, and we all laughed as we betted on who’d caused the most trouble for the wardens, and shared how we each made every day a bit more bearable. Because even in the cruelty of the institutions, even hidden away as secrets the world would rather forget, we had the stories of lives that might not have been envied, but that were no less worth telling.

  I turned my attention to the other table, where the Chancellor took large gulps from his wine glass, his cheeks flushed almost as red as the liquid in it. He tilted side to side in his seat, ignoring his wife’s disapproving glares shot from beside the head of the table.

  “The Hammerton family finally got back to us about their daughter, Ariadne, and have agreed that you should take her hand in marriage,” he announced to Elian, who immediately clenched his jaw, “Isn’t that great? The daughter of the richest member of the Triumvirate! You won’t find better son, I promise you.”

  Elian took a deep breath, gulping air to provide a tonic to the dread that tensed all his muscles.

  “She’s certainly an impressive woman, father, but I’ve already told you, things between us are a little too lukewarm to consider marriage.”

  The Chancellor cleared his throat.

  “What? I don’t remember you saying that.”

  “Probably because you were drunk then, too.”

  “Elian, my dear boy,” he said as he wrapped an arm around his son, “You’re overthinking this. Of course I want you to find love someday, but you can find it while also having all the legal advantages that come with a marriage certificate. And it’s possible you might even learn to love her.”

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  “Like I learnt to love you.” Shirley smiled sweetly, stabbing a pea with her fork, but the Chancellor was too drunk to notice the insult.

  “Estrella,” Elian snapped to his sister sat on his left, “Do you have something to say about this?”

  She could only have been a year or so younger than him, with burgundy streaks through brown hair framing her pretty face. They certainly looked like siblings, with the same nose, eyes and high cheekbones, although apparently their blood didn’t share disdain for their father.

  “Surely you saw this coming,” she chimed, lit up with the opportunity to tease her brother, “It’s a perfect match that’ll guarantee you get voted the next Chancellor. Besides, I think it would be good for you to have a bit more of a social life.”

  “I have a social life!”

  “Talking to your android doesn’t count.”

  A few of the Relegates looked up from their plates at the argument playing out.

  “Well,” he coughed, flustered as he noticed the Relegates’ attention, “I will certainly give the matter some thought. Now, as proof that I have a life, might it be possible to visit Niva? I was hoping to see her this evening, if I may.”

  He looked to his father for permission, who waved a dismissive hand.

  “No, she’s got enough on her plate without you interrupting, I’m sure she’d rather be left alone. And you need to focus on how to make a good impression with the Hammertons when they visit later this month, anyway.”

  Elian pursed his lips.

  “I’ll be cordial, but you can’t force my hand.”

  “We’ll talk about it later,” snapped the Chancellor, swirling his wine glass then taking another gulp, “I swear, that bleeding heart of yours will ruin us.”

  Elian’s eyes sunk down to the edge of the table in front of him.

  “Yes, father.”

  He shrunk in his seat, poking and prodding his food around the plate as the conversation returned. And though he wouldn’t look my way, I shot him a sympathetic glance.

  The androids kept replacing dishes with new courses throughout the evening until not even the Customs could fit more food into their bellies.

  They cleared away everything with cold efficiency, eerily uniform in their movements as they swept away the remnants of the feast, the leftover crusts of bread probably meant for kitchen staff.

  “Well that was delicious, send my compliments to the chef as always,” said the Chancellor to his own personal android, pushing himself from the table to stand, “And thank you to our guests for joining us, the androids will lead you back to your rooms now.”

  All the project participants stood up, chairs scraping against the marble floor, and bowed before making to leave with their androids.

  Ganymede caught my eyes and trotted to catch up with me, my feet already halfway out the door, but tripped over another android and flew into the table with a great crash, a pile of limbs sticking out in odd directions.

  The room stilled.

  He shakily got back to his feet, his head tilting at a funny angle, and a gash in his shoulder exposing sparking wires.

  The android he tripped with was unharmed, and as soon as she stood up to prove it everyone went back to filing out of the dining hall, including Elian who raced after his sister with a glare.

  Surprisingly it was Shirley who teetered on her high heels to come and help.

  “Tut tut,” she said, inspecting the android, “Perhaps Niva is getting a visit today after all. She’s the only one who could mend such extensive damage.”

  “I am ferpectly tuncfional. No deen to thober Niva!” Ganymede gave a thumbs up to reassure us but if anything it made me more worried.

  “Europa!” called Shirley to her own android servant, a female figure with glossy blonde hair and grey eyes, “Accompany these two to the secondary labs.”

  “Yes ma’am,” said Europa, “Follow me please.”

  “Can you even walk?” I asked Ganymede, noticing the limp on his leg bent slightly crooked.

  “I will namage,” he said determinedly, marching towards the exit as if hell and highwater wouldn’t stop him.

  We left the dining room and walked down a couple corridors before I heard raised voices echoing through the halls.

  “Follow me and be quiet,” I told both androids and followed the sound, turning a corner to see Elian and Estrella exchanging heated words.

  “What happened? You were supposed to back me!” Elian complained. Estrella merely picked at her nails.

  “That’s the beauty of being me, brother, I never have to cut my losses.”

  “But you lost our bet!”

  She dropped her hands to her sides, squaring up to Elian.

  “And who are you going to tell? Father? I want you to be happy, truly, but you know more than anyone confronting him is like swimming against the tide. Better to do as he says. Besides, you’re being handed the most eligible woman in the country on a silver platter, I don’t exactly pity you. Goodnight.”

  She sauntered off, leaving Elian with his mouth agape in disbelief.

  I cleared my throat.

  “Everything alright?”

  I startled him into adjusting his shirtsleeves.

  “Yes, sorry I… How much of that did you hear?” he asked, composing himself.

  “Enough to know you’re pissed off.”

  “I’m not… I don’t use that word.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Of course not, you’re so proper I bet you don’t even wipe your own arse.”

  “I’m not dignifying that with a response,” he said shortly, and caught sight of Europa and Ganymede lurking behind me, finding an easy way to change the subject, “Europa, I thought I heard mother asking for her evening tea, you’d better see that she gets it quickly, you know how she is. I’ll take care of these two.”

  Europa and I both shot him the same questioning look.

  “Are you quite sure, Master Endavell-Alvidrez?” she asked him.

  He waved her away.

  “Yes, honestly it’s no trouble.”

  “Very well,” said the android, giving a bow and returning to the dining room. Her absence seemed to immediately lift a weight off Elian’s shoulders.

  “What a shame I’ll have to visit Niva after all. This way,” he said with a wicked grin.

  Preferring his company to an android’s, I gladly followed his lead further into the belly of the Estate, down darker corridors that took on an eery glow as artificial lighting replaced natural daylight.

  “You know, I’m fairly sure soldiers are trained to obey their orders,” I teased, crossing my arms, “Weren’t you told not to come here?”

  He scoffed.

  “I don’t think you can lecture me on obeying authority.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “You’re reckless and foolish, you act before thinking and cause disaster everywhere you go as a result.”

  Hey, just because it was true didn’t mean he had to say it.

  “Alright, Prince Charmless, let me tell you something,” I huffed, “In my world, there’s no time to think, you have to make life and death decisions in split seconds every single day and fight tooth and claw just to survive, so forgive me for making it up as I go along, because it may have escaped your notice but there’s no handbook on how to live a normal life when the whole world insists on seeing you as nothing more than a mistake.”

  He backed up a little against the wall. I’d gone too far. Revealed too much. The instinct to lash out, hit back like a wounded animal, it was a constant battle to keep it in check. As a result, it didn’t tend to surface at the best of times. Like now, for example, even if Elian quickly softened, taking it with more kindness than I deserved.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish I could change the world you come from but I can’t. The mistakes they’ve made, the mistake they say you are… All of it is annoyingly human. And as for making life and death decisions, well… I do know what that’s like.”

  My breaths slowed down, my fists started to unclench, and the words were knocked out of me. Of course he knew. He was probably the one non-Relegate I’d met who might understand. In the end, I nodded to the corridor to keep us moving. Hopefully it would distract from the fact that I’d put my foot in it once again.

  We got to yet another set of stairs, though unlike the marble used for the others, these were made of cold, grey stone. It wasn’t possible, yet I could have sworn a chilling gust of wind crept along my arms and up my spine to cause goosebumps. I wrapped my arms tighter around myself.

  Whatever this place was couldn’t be good. There had to be all sorts of secrets hidden down here, hidden so deep they’d become part of the foundations of the Estate and all it stood for.

  “What was the bet you made with your sister?” I asked, if only to keep my mind off the rusty stains on the walls, and offer the olive branch of changing the topic. He hesitated for a moment, then looked to me.

  “I told her about the girl hiding behind my desk last night. She didn’t think you’d survive the first trial, I did, so she asked me if I’d take a wager. Thinks she knows everything that one.”

  “And you bet on me to live?”

  He smiled.

  “I had a good feeling about you.”

  The words hit like a dart to my chest. If only he knew how misguided it was to place that sort of faith in me. It made my skin itch and breathing shallow but I forced myself to keep one foot moving in front of the other. Forced myself to shake off the little voice sneering in my head. He didn’t know how wrong he was, he barely knew me. But he’d come to in time, and then he’d never look at me again.

  “Sorry you didn’t get rewarded for it.”

  It was fitting, good even, that he’d learn the lesson now rather than later. There was nothing to gain from believing in me.

  “It would’ve been nice if my sister kept her word and sided with me against the match, but I can deal with my father well enough on my own.”

  For his sake, I hoped that was true.

  “That’s not what you said earlier,” I pointed out. He smirked.

  “It’s called wishful thinking.”

  Oh, that old thing.

  “A waste of time if you ask me.”

  I tried not to shrink away from him as he tilted his head and shifted every bit of attention on to me.

  “Why?” He asked, brow furrowed.

  I shrugged, half to shake off his uncomfortable, assessing stare, half to not let him see how the calculating look in his eyes got to me. Like I was a puzzle to be solved. I’d seen it enough times at Vocafeum, through all the experiments and punishments. Enough times to know I never wanted to be looked at that way again. Even if he was only curious. “Because it doesn’t need to be wishful.”

  Something shifted within him, as if he’d never considered the possibility he might one day be able to make a stand. The fact that it seemed to be news to him warmed me enough that I could meet his eyes, and I saw a spark there, glittering and new, filled with hope that he was so much more than a soldier meant to follow orders. It was quite endearing to see really, and I could have stared at him a bit longer were it not for an angry set of footsteps stomping towards us at the end of the corridor.