Prodigy (Legend 2)

The Senator wipes sweat from his brow. “Well, that is—of course the Senate will bow to your wishes, sir, but I just meant—well—”

“Help me convince the other Senators that this is the wrong time for us to come down on the public.” Anden pauses to face the man and claps him on the shoulder. “I don’t want to make enemies in Congress, Senator. I want your fellow delegates and the national court to respect my decisions as they did with my father’s. Using fatal force to put down rioters will only incite more anger toward the state.”

“But, sir—”

Anden stops outside my railcar. “We’ll finish this discussion later,” he says. “I’m tired.” Even though his reply is muffled by the doors between us, I can hear the steel in his words.

The Senator mumbles something and bows his head. When Anden nods, the man turns around and hurries away. Anden watches him go, then opens the door to my railcar. The guards salute him.

We nod at each other.

“I’ve come to deliver your release terms, June.” Anden speaks to me with a distant formality, perhaps due to the chilly conversation he just had with the Senator. The kiss he’d given me last night feels like a hallucination. Even so, seeing him gives me a peculiar sense of comfort, and I catch myself relaxing against my chair as if I were in the company of an old friend. “Last night we received word that there was an attack in Lamar. A train was destroyed in an explosion—the train I was supposed to be on. I don’t know the final word on who’s responsible, and we failed to catch any of the attackers, but we assume that they were the Patriots. We have teams hunting for them there now.”

“Glad to be of service, Elector,” I say. My hands grip each other tightly in my lap, reminding me of the luxurious softness of my gloves. Should I feel so safe and secure in this elite railcar while Day is probably on the run with the Patriots?

“If you can think of any other details, Ms. Iparis, please feel free to share them. You’re back in the Republic now; you’re one of us, and I give you my word that you have nothing to fear. Once we arrive in Pierra, your record will be scrubbed clean. I’ll personally see to it that you’re reinstated to your former rank—although you’ll be placed in a different city patrol.” Anden puts a hand to his mouth and clears his throat. “I’ve recommended you for a Denver team.”

“Thank you,” I reply softly. Anden is falling right into the Patriots’ trap.

“Some Senators feel that we’ve been too generous with you, but everyone agrees that you’re our best hope of tracking down the Patriots’ leaders.” Anden walks closer and takes a seat before me. “I’m sure they’ll try to strike again, and I want you to lead my men in intercepting future attempts.”

“You are too kind, Elector. I’m honored,” I reply, lowering my head in a half bow. “And if you don’t mind my asking, will my dog be pardoned as well?”

Anden chuckles a little. “Your dog is being cared for in the capital; he’ll be waiting for you when you arrive.”

I meet Anden’s eyes and hold them for a moment. His pupils dilate and his cheeks flush slightly. “I can see why the Senate would be unhappy with your leniency,” I finally say. “But it’s true that no one can keep you safer than I can.” I need a minute alone with him. “But there must be another reason you’re being so kind to me. Isn’t there?”

Anden swallows and looks up at his own portrait. My eyes dart to the guards standing at the railcar’s doors. As if he knows what I’m thinking, Anden waves a hand at the soldiers, then motions up at the cams in the railcar. The soldiers leave, and a moment later the cams’ red, blinking lights flick off. For the first time, no one is watching us. We are truly alone. “The truth is,” Anden continues, “you’ve become very popular with the public. If word gets out that the country’s most gifted prodigy is being convicted of treason—or even demoted for disloyalty—well, you can see how poorly that would reflect on the Republic. And on me. Even Congress knows this.”

My hands curl back and retreat into my lap. “Your father’s Senate and you have somewhat different moral codes,” I say, mulling over the conversation I’d overheard between Anden and Senator Kamion moments ago. “Or so I gather.”

He shakes his head and smiles bitterly. “To put it lightly.”

“I didn’t know you disliked the Trials so much.”

Anden nods. He doesn’t seem surprised that I overheard his conversation. “The Trials are an outdated way of choosing our country’s best and brightest.”

It’s odd to hear this coming from the Elector’s own mouth. “Why is the Senate so intent on keeping them? What’s their investment in the Trials?”

Anden shrugs. “It’s a long story. Back when the Republic first implemented them, they were . . . somewhat different.”

I lean forward. I’ve never heard any stories about the Republic that weren’t filtered through the country’s school or public messaging systems—and now the Elector himself is going to tell me one. “How were they different?” I ask.

“My father was . . . very charismatic.” Anden actually sounds a bit defensive.

Weird reply. “I’m sure he must have had his ways,” I say, careful to keep neutral.

Anden crosses his legs and leans back. “I don’t like what the Republic has become,” he says, forming each word slowly and thoughtfully. “But I cannot say that I don’t understand why things are like this. My father had his reasons for doing what he did.”