The day of the Triumvirate Houses’ arrival started with sun piercing through the curtains. Even the weather, which had stormed with a particular biting ferociousness these past days, made way for the most influential families in Saxanglain.

  I covered my eyes with my arm and groaned to no one in particular.

  After many painful, failed attempts, I finally succeeded in getting dressed and strolled into the breakfast room which had been transformed into a shrine to the Triumvirate Houses, the three flags representing the three families slapped on every spare inch of wall. The bronze suns on red for the Hammertons, the golden leaves on green for the Fernics and silver diamond on navy for the Endavells. There were a few other flags for the high nobles that hadn’t quite been good enough for the Triumvirate but still wielded power. Presumably they’d also make an appearance at the ball.

  There was one flag I recognised in particular though, as I’d spent my life staring at it on the institution’s walls. I shook off the chill that had started to creep along my spine and tried my best to ignore the green cross on the white background. The flag of the Sallows, the family in charge of the area Vocafeum presided in. The family who owned the only home I’d ever known. The home Niles and I were doomed to die in before I came here. Now another fate awaited me.

  Deep breaths. Why had it become hard to take deep breaths? Why were the walls closing in? Why couldn’t I feel my hands? Why did I feel nauseous?

  No, everything was fine. I dug my nails into my arms. They’d leave angry red marks, but that was fine. I was fine. Everything was fine. It had to be.

  While I fought to get my breathing back under control, a group of butterflies entered my field of vision. Butterflies? Inside? I was sure I was imagining things, except these weren’t ordinary butterflies. They fluttered around with small wires forming patterns on their wings. So small, so delicate, and yet their wings beat with enough strength that it seemed they could fly forever. They were synthetic yet beautiful in their intricacy. And as I focused on the pretty patterns and counted how many were flying around my head, the belt that had tightened around my lungs started to release until everything was almost back to normal.

  Luckily, no one had seemed to notice anything was wrong.

  Across the room, Elian spoke to some androids about the dinner preparations, walking around a lot easier than a few days ago. His progress was remarkable, the med ward clearly doing a good job at eliminating all the effects of his infection.

  I approached him, hearing the tail end of his conversation before he caught my eyes.

  “Yes, the chiffon cakes are perfect, excuse me a moment.”

  He shooed them away with a wave so by the time I reached him we could talk in peace.

  “Anything I can do to help?” I asked.

  “Not unless you can turn back time before my great grandfather formed the Triumvirate.”

  Ha. If only.

  “Don’t worry, everything looks perfect. They’ll love you.”

  He looked at where the time-travel machine was put proudly on display for the guests.

  “She would have scoffed at all this,” he said, and it took me a while to realise he was talking about Niva.

  “Oh definitely. They would’ve had to wrestle her into a ball gown.”

  He took my hand and opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by an android passing us. We jumped apart from each other, and he ran his fingers through his hair, suddenly being very interested in the oranges in the fruit bowl on one of the long tables.

  “For what it’s worth,” I offered, “I think she’s watching over us. Wherever she is. I don’t think she ever really left.”

  He put the orange he was inspecting back into the fruit bowl.

  “You mean like life after death?”

  “Something like that.” We made eye contact, but I pointed to the flags on the wall, “Do the Triumvirate always get a party when they come over?”

  “It’s for the project,” he explained, “My father’s turning it into a tradition if the project becomes a yearly thing.”

  That couldn’t be allowed to happen. No one else could be allowed to be turned into a robot, not as they would be if this became a tradition.

  “Are you ok? You look a little shaken up this morning. You’re not worried about the next trial are you? You don’t need to be. You’re going to ace it.”

  I shook my head, trying to keep the tremor from my voice.

  “I don’t know anymore. My whole life feels like it’s been running on luck and I don’t know when it’s going to run out.”

  He placed a hand on my shoulder and sighed, knowing nothing he could say would change the fact that there was a very real possibility I wouldn’t make it through this last challenge.

  “Here.” He caught one of the butterflies from the air. “Take one. Every time you look at it, remember how strong you are, what you’ve been through. Remember to keep fighting for better.”

  He clicked a tiny button on its underside and its purple wings flapped down, powered off, then he grazed my hands as he handed it over.

  I traced the pattern on the wings.

  “They’re beautiful.”

  “They were my idea. I told my parents Ariadne was fond of butterflies but really, if I’m being honest, they just remind me of you.”

  I was overwhelmed with the sudden urge to hug him, and did, before realising we were surrounded by prying eyes. I let go instantly.

  “Thank you also works,” he stuttered out, a blush coating his cheeks long after I’d pulled away.

  “You know, this thing with Ariadne isn’t all bad,” I told him, “You get to marry a kind, beautiful woman. Someone who can give you everything you deserve. And you get to rule an entire country.”

  The words took him aback, for some reason, even though none of it was news to him. He adjusted his waistcoat.

  “I’ve got to help with final arrangements, but I’ll see you later.”

  He lingered for a moment as if he wanted to say more but turned to leave as I gave him a two-fingered salute.

  The project participants spent the whole morning trying to stay out the way while servants busy-bodied with the preparations. Most were already lined up out the front entrance despite not having to be there to greet the Triumvirate Houses for another hour.

  But the atmosphere made the time pass more quickly and it wasn’t long before we were lined up outside as well, ready to greet the other two members of the Triumvirate.

  “You will address each member as Lord or Lady followed by their full name and curtsy or bow if they decide to say hello,” instructed a surly looking maid, “You will dine with them tonight but be kept at a separate table, is that understood?”

  We all nodded, and the first black hov passed the Estate’s threshold.

  The whole Endavell family plus a handful of servants and guards were ready to greet them, standing dutifully as if they were about to have their picture taken.

  The hov flew up the path, growing to a monstrous size as it covered the final distance, and silently came to land. So quiet you could hear everyone holding their breath.

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  “Introducing Lord Atticus and Lady Eloise Hammerton with their children, Lord Turi Hammerton and Lady Ariadne Hammerton of Mercia,” one of the guards shouted.

  A man and woman with matching ebony hair and ghostly pale skin stepped out, fine jewels adorning their expensive red silks. John immediately reached out to greet the man in a hug.

  “Atticus!” he cried with a hearty pat on the back, “A lot has changed since you were here last, I trust you’ll approve of the renovations.”

  He then kissed the woman’s hand, Lady Eloise supposedly, while Atticus went to kiss Shirley’s.

  “With the money from the treasury’s pocket, John, they’d better impress.”

  “Come now, I haven’t spent it all on the Estate. I have plans for the country and good plans need money. Trust me, you’ll get your money’s worth when you see what my team have come up with.”

  A girl stepped out in a puffy blouse and long red skirt, her hair pinned half up in a braid like a crown around her forehead. Her eyes stood out icy blue against her snow-white skin.

  “If it isn’t Ariadne! You know my son Elian, of course.”

  Elian stiffened.

  “Go on Elian,” John urged, “Greet our guests properly please.”

  He slowly pressed a kiss to her delicate hand and said in the best imitation of sincerity, “Ariadne, you’re more beautiful than the last time we met.”

  “Always the gentleman, Elian.” She giggled then linked her arm in his. “Do you like my blouse? I just couldn’t bear the thought of wearing a proper dress like those other noble ladies. They might only be here for the dance but I’d much rather walk around the Estate, get my boots muddy as we take a trip down memory lane, don’t you agree?”

  Elian waited a second before giving a single, curt nod.

  “Of course.”

  I had to hold in a laugh.

  He might not have had feelings for her, but I’d seen more warmth from Ganymede and the other androids. Was he trying to start his future engagement on the wrong foot?

  Shirley stepped forward to rescue the situation, clearly noticing Elian’s hesitancy yet still holding hope.

  “Perhaps Elian can give you the tour now. I’m sure you have lots to discuss,” she beamed.

  He rolled his eyes.

  “Mama–”

  “Just a suggestion, mijo.”

  Elian’s little brother ran up to Ariadne with a rubber ball.

  “Will you play catch with me?”

  “I’m afraid I’m not the sporty type,” she bent down to ruffle his hair, “But I’m sure you can teach me.”

  “Emilio, leave the lovebirds alone, they have grown up things to discuss,” Estrella whined.

  John laughed, although it sounded forced.

  “You’ll have to excuse my family,” he told the Hammertons, “They’re very spirited.”

  A second black hov pulled up in the driveway and landed behind the Hammertons’.

  “Introducing Lord Vanley and Lady Elexis Fernic with their daughter Lady Axelia Fernic of Birghamshire.”

  A lady came out in a flowing white dress with gold detailing and her hair in black ringlets accompanied by her husband and daughter.

  “Shirley,” she greeted the woman in a hug. Shirley gave an uneasy smile, but hugged back nonetheless. Lady Elexis broke away and moved onto the Chancellor, her smile immediately falling.

  “Hello John.”

  She stuck out her hand for him to kiss, which he did. She greeted Atticus Hammerton the same way and wrapped her arms around the shoulders of Eloise and Shirley.

  “Come ladies, tell me your husbands’ secrets so I can use it against them in debates. I’m joking, of course, how have you both been?”

  “Not too bad, thank you,” breathed Eloise before John clapped his hands together.

  “Shall we go in for a spot of tea?”

  We all bowed as he led the Triumvirate families inside, and while Ariadne gripped tightly to Elian, he managed to meet my eyes, his mouth immediately going into a crooked smile.

  “It’s so brave of you to take Relegates in,” Ariadne cooed, “I’ve heard so many stories, do you really think the project will help solve the problem of their inferiority?”

  “I suppose I must,” Elian ground out.

  “Your family’s full of angels, taking care of such helpless little things. If I was born a Relegate I think I’d want to die, but it’s almost like a fairy-tale, isn’t it? You’ve given them a chance to have proper lives. It truly melts my heart.”

  I could have made a joke about how her heart melting implied it was frozen to begin with but decided to keep that to myself. After all, I promised Niva I’d try and be better-behaved. Ganymede too. And Ramya. And Niles. And Daniella. And myself.

  The list of people to let down was getting longer.

  So I let her talk, let her believe that she wouldn’t find a way to survive if the circumstances were different and she’d been born a Relegate, let her insult every struggle I’d ever had while Elian led her inside as she swayed her hips.

  And if the circumstances were different? If I’d been born a Custom would I look down upon Relegates as helpless, brainless shells of humans? Born broken and inferior?

  Would I become everything I hated simply because of the way I was brought up?

  I saw Elian, just disappearing through the door with his future-fiancée, into the Estate.

  No. I refused to believe I would.

  Later that evening we all sat down in the dining hall. We were kept on a separate table than the Triumvirate, and it was clear Ariadne was uneasy.

  “Excuse me, Chancellor Endavell, but why are the Relegates being kept on separate tables? They should come sit with us if they are to become Customs.”

  Everyone, including all of the project participants, stopped what they were doing and stared at John, waiting for his reply.

  “I commend your kind heart, my dear, but you must understand that while the participants of the Relegate Project are guests and if they pass shall indeed become Customs, for now they are Relegates. It would be unbefitting to have them sitting among families of the Triumvirate.”

  “I understand,” she said, “Pardon me, I didn’t mean to question your judgement.”

  “That’s all right, but let’s move on to more exciting matters suitable to a dinner conversation, for example the up-coming ball.”

  “Oh, that old thing. I suppose it’ll be fun but I’d much rather stay inside and read than be among some silly girls who only care about shaking their hips for the lords.”

  “Perfect,” said Elian a bit too loudly, “Because I’m not much of a dancer either. We could both stay in our own rooms reading our books and give the festivities a miss.”

  The Chancellor shot his son a dangerous look that set me on the edge of my seat but was interrupted by androids bursting in, although the android-human ratio was a lot smaller than the first night, and some that I’d come to recognise were certainly missing, but still they adorned the table with mouth-watering food, and the tables resumed into light chatter.

  “What do you think the next challenge is going to be?” asked Rolene, snapping my attention away from the Custom table as she took in a mouthful of roasted pheasant.

  “Who knows?” I sighed, “Maybe they’ll send us back to the stone age and we’ll have to use clubs to fight each other, whoever’s left standing gets Customised.”

  She swallowed her food.

  “They wouldn’t… would they?” Neither of us trusted ourselves to answer. “Well, I think if we follow the pattern, we started at the 1500s, then the 1600s so we’ll probably end up in the 1700s. At least that’s my guess.”

  “We’ll just have to see.” I shrugged.

  “The question I have is, why send us back in time at all? Why do we need to time travel to prove we’re worthy?”

  I racked my brains through everything Niva had told me while Rolene stared, waiting for an answer.

  There couldn’t be a scientific reason, as far as I knew time-travel didn’t change any part of a person’s biology but if it was part of some strategic political game the Chancellor was playing, I failed to see what advantage it gave to his ambitions.

  Unless… No, surely not. If it was true it would undermine everything the Lion Legion set out to achieve. He couldn’t know and yet… he must’ve. Why else would he send us back in time if not to track down the Lion Legion.

  But I couldn’t say that to Rolene.

  “For fun,” I offered instead, “Because they can. I guess I’d use time-travel for everything if I owned the technology.”

  “That can’t be it, can it? Just for fun. Don’t get me wrong the Chancellor has a flair for the dramatic but there has to be more to it than that.”

  I shrugged, already planning how I was going to investigate. Perhaps travelling to the past would show me the Chancellor’s true intentions. If I could travel to the moment he started it all.

  Once dinner was wrapped up, and we’d bowed to the Triumvirate and said goodbye to each other with our androids waiting outside the dining hall, I made my way back to my room.

  I burst in, searching for a way to access the labs, but without Niva it would be difficult.

  “Is there anything I can help you with?” asked Ganymede, looking up from where he was dusting the bedside table.

  “How can I get access to the primary labs?”

  “I don’t know,” replied the android, moving on to dusting the shelves by the window, “Only the scientists that work there have their biometric data stored in the security scans. Them and the Chancellor’s circle. You’d need to have identical fingerprints or retinas to get access to the labs. And that’s unlikely.”

  I stared out at the dimming sky, the sun’s final rays reflecting on the window, illuminating fingerprints that Ganymede was just about to dust away.

  Niva’s fingerprints from the night she asked me to go to the Lion Legion meeting.

  “Stop!” I cried, causing Ganymede to cease abruptly.

  Ramya started out in forensics before she worked for the Estate, and she used to tell me stories about how she could get fingerprints off a table surface with just powder and tape, catching criminals like flies in a web with that technique alone.

  “Ganymede, do you think you could rustle up some powder and tape? Probably a brush too,” I asked.

  “What kind of powder?”

  “Whatever’s easiest to find.”

  “Of course, coming right up.”

  He left the room and came back moments later with the materials. I stared at the pink box of blush in his hands. Noting the stare, Ganymede shrugged.

  “It was the easiest powder to find.”

  I took it with the tape and brush, knowing I only had one shot at this. Knowing it might not even work but I had to try.

  I prayed to the universe as I dusted the blush onto the finger-marks, coating them beyond visibility, then blew off the top layer and applied the tape.

  When I removed it, the faint outline of Niva’s print could be seen on the tape, and I allowed myself a breath of relief.

  “Right, let’s go.”

  We trailed down several stairs into the belly of the Estate, the belly of the beast, with faded rusty streaks against what would have been sterile white walls, until we came to the scanner. I pressed the fingerprint against it, but it flashed red.

  “Access denied,” the cool robotic voice rang out over the systems.

  “What- Why’s it saying that?” I asked, tripping over my words in panic.

  “Niva Banavan is reported as deceased. This fingerprint in invalid. Please try another fingerprint.”

  “You’ve got to be joking!” I exclaimed.

  “I’m sorry Ayla, I didn’t check the records before your attempt to infiltrate the labs,” Ganymede apologised, a hint of actual regret in his voice.

  “We could try and hack the system. I mean I would if… you know… I ever got taught how to do that. Niva would know. I wish she was here.”

  “What a shame you’ll have to deal with me instead.”

  Elian stood a few feet behind me, arms crossed, and a smug grin plastered on his face.