The words force themselves past my lips, though they come out as barely more than a whisper. “I love you.”

And then the door slams behind me, shutting me out of my home and my life.

They hasten me through the village, down the road to the market square. We pass by Kilorn’s run-down house. Usually he’s awake by now, halfway to the river to start the day early when it’s still cool, but those days are gone. Now I imagine he sleeps through half the day, enjoying what little comforts he can before conscription. Part of me wants to yell good-bye to him, but I don’t. He’ll come sniffing around for me later and Gisa will tell him everything. With a silent laugh I remember that Farley will be expecting me today, with a fortune in payment. She’ll be disappointed.

In the square, a gleaming black transport waits for us. Four wheels, glass windows, rounded to the ground—it looks like a beast ready to consume me. Another officer sits at the controls and guns the engine when we approach, spitting black smoke into the early morning air. I’m forced into the back without a word and the servant barely slides in next to me before the transport takes off, racing down the road at speeds I had never even imagined. This will be my first—and last—time riding in one.

I want to speak, to ask what’s going on, how they’re going to punish me for my crimes, but I know my words will fall on deaf ears. So I stare out the window, watching the village disappear as we enter the forest, racing down the familiar northern road. It’s not so crowded as yesterday, and Security officers dot the way. The Hall is controlled, the servant had said. I suppose this is what she meant.

The diamondglass wall shines ahead, reflecting the sun as it rises from the woods. I want to squint, but I keep myself still. I must keep my eyes open here.

The gate crawls with black uniforms, all Security officers checking and rechecking travelers as they enter. When we coast to a stop, the serving woman pulls me past the line and through the gate. No one protests, or even bothers to check for IDs. She must be familiar here.

Once we’re inside, she glances back at me. “I’m Ann by the way, but we mostly go by last names. Call me Walsh.”

Walsh. The name sounds familiar. Paired with her faded hair and tanned skin, it can mean only one thing. “You’re from . . .?”

“The Stilts, same as you. I knew your brother Tramy and I wish I didn’t know Bree. A real heartbreaker, that one.” Bree had a reputation around the village before he left. He told me once that he didn’t fear conscription as much as everyone else because the dozen bloodthirsty girls he was leaving behind were far more dangerous. “I don’t know you though. But I certainly will.”

I can’t help but bristle. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean you’re going to be working long hours here. I don’t know who hired you or what they told you about the job, but it starts to wear on you. It’s not all changing bedsheets and cleaning plates. You have to look without seeing, hear without listening. We’re objects up there, living statues meant to serve.” She sighs to herself and turns, wrenching open a door built right into the side of the gate. “Especially now, with this Scarlet Guard business. It’s never a good time to be a Red, but this is very bad.”

She steps through the door, seemingly into the solid wall. It takes me a moment to realize she’s going down a flight of stairs, disappearing into semidarkness.

“The job?” I press. “What job? What is this?”

She turns on the stairs, all but rolling her eyes at me. “You’ve been summoned to fill a serving post,” she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Working. A job. I almost fall over at the thought.

Cal. He said he had a good job—and now he’s pulled some strings to do the same for me. I might even be working with him. My heart leaps at the prospect, knowing what this means. I’m not going to die, I’m not even going to fight. I’m going to work and I’m going to live. And later, when I find Cal, I can convince him to do the same for Kilorn.

“Keep up, I don’t have time to hold your hand!”

Scrambling after her, I descend into a surprisingly dark tunnel. Small lights glow on the walls, making it just possible to see. Pipes run overhead, humming with running water and electricity.

“Where are we going?” I finally breathe.

I can almost hear Walsh’s dismay as she turns to me, confused. “The Hall of the Sun, of course.”

For a second, I think I can feel my heart stop. “Wha-what? The palace, the actual palace?”

She taps the badge on her uniform. The crown winks in the low light.

“You serve the king now.”

They have a uniform ready for me, but I barely notice it. I’m too amazed by my surroundings, the tan stone and glittering mosaic floor of this forgotten hall in the house of a king. Other servants bustle past in a parade of red uniforms. I search their faces, looking for Cal, wanting to thank him, but he never appears.

Walsh stays by me, whispering advice. “Say nothing. Hear nothing. Speak to no one, for they will not speak to you.”

I can hardly keep the words straight; the last two days have been a ruin on my heart and soul. I think life has simply decided to open the floodgates, trying to drown me in a whirlwind of twists and turns.

“You came on a busy day, perhaps the worst we will ever see.”

“I saw the boats and airships—Silvers have been going upriver for weeks,” I say. “More than usual, even for this time of year.”

Walsh hurries me along, pushing a tray of glittering cups into my hands. Surely these things can buy my freedom and Kilorn’s, but the Hall is guarded at every door and window. I could never slip by so many officers, even with all my skills.

“What’s happening today?” I dumbly ask. A lock of my dark hair falls in my eyes and before I can try to swish it away, Walsh pushes the hair back and fastens it with a tiny pin, her motions quick and precise. “Is that a stupid question?”

“No, I didn’t know about it either, not until we started preparing. After all, they haven’t had one for twenty years, since Queen Elara was selected.” She speaks so fast her words almost blur together. “Today is Queenstrial. The daughters of the High Houses, the great Silver families, have all come to offer themselves to the prince. There’s a big feast tonight, but now they’re in the Spiral Garden, preparing to present, hoping to be chosen. One of those girls gets to be the next queen and they’re slapping each other silly for the chance.”

An image of a bunch of peacocks flashes in my head. “So what, they do a spin, say a few words, bat their eyelashes?”

But Walsh snorts at me, shaking her head. “Hardly.” Then her eyes glitter. “You’re on serving duty, so you’ll get to see for yourself.”

The doors loom ahead, made of carved wood and flowing glass. A servant props them open, allowing the line of red uniforms to move through. And then it’s my turn.

“Aren’t you coming?” I can hear the desperation in my voice, almost begging Walsh to stay with me. But she backs away, leaving me alone. Before I can hold up the line or otherwise ruin the organized assembly of servants, I force myself forward and out into the sunlight of what she called the Spiral Garden.