Page 61 of Reign

“Um, I’m crashing at a house in Tribedo.” Briefly, Sam explained how she’d met Liam: that she was living in a house with his bandmates and friends, and working at Enclave.

When she’d finished, Marshall’s voice was oddly tense. “You’re staying with some random guy, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mention it. But it’s not as bad as you’re making it sound,” she hurried to clarify. “It’s a house full of people—boys and girls! And Liam is just a friend. Trust me on this.”

Marshall sighed. “I do trust you, Sam. But I don’t trust this Liam guy, or all the other people in this house. What if they sell you out to the press?”

“Then I’ll leave,” Sam said simply. “But I don’t think they’ll do that.”

“And you’re really working as a bartender? Don’t you think that’s risky?”

“I need to keep myself busy, Marshall. And no one has recognized me so far. It’s all about context. They don’t expect to see me, so theydon’tsee me, even when I’m right in front of them.”

Sam could feel Marshall’s frustration from thousands of miles away. She stared out the window and remarked, if only to change the subject, “It’s snowing here.” A few small flakes drifted lightly downward, melting the moment they hid the windowsill.

There was another beat of silence, as if Marshall wasdeciding whether or not to keep being angry. Then he said, “It’s snowing here, too.”

“Wait—what?”

He laughed. “I’m kidding. That would be some pretty bizarre weather.”

“Utterly terrifying,” Sam agreed.

“But it would be fun, in a way. If we were both looking out the window and seeing snow, it would almost feel like we were in the same place.”

Her heart ached at that. “I know what you mean.”

In refusing to come back, Sam had cut away at some fundamental ease between her and Marshall. Of course, their relationship was complicated in plenty of ways—the media attention, the racism he faced, their families’ hesitation—but not this. Not the two of them, together. When they were alone, everything had always been effortless.

And now it took effort.

“I love you.” Sam felt a little like her sister during a press conference; like she was pretending things were fine even as they deteriorated around her.

“I love you, too, Sam,” Marshall told her.

It wasn’t until much later that Sam realized he’d used her real name—that he hadn’t called her by a silly nickname since she left Hawaii.

Nina found, to her surprise, that she liked being in the play.

The first few rehearsals, she’d thought of the performance as an obligation: she had auditioned, after all, and the right thing to do was to follow through on her commitments. But far from gritting her teeth and enduring it, Nina wasenjoyingherself. It felt exhilarating, standing onstage and reading lines someone else had written. She could be the center of attention and at the same time disappear, as if she’d folded her real self away and hidden inside the persona of Helena.

Jamie hadn’t kissed her in any of the rehearsals again. Not that she was waiting for him to.

The two of them had fallen into the habit of walking back together after rehearsals, chatting about the play or their mutual friends until they arrived at Nina’s dorm. Tonight, as Nina slung her tote bag over one shoulder, Jamie pushed open the auditorium door for her.

“Have you finishedHenryIVyet?” he asked, referring to their reading for Dr.Larsen’s Shakespeare class.

“I’m about halfway through.” Nina looked over at Jamie. “Haveyoufinished?”

“I’ve read it before. And seen it performed.”

“It must be a little disconcerting, watching all your ancestors murder each other,” she replied, fighting back a smile.

“If there’s one thing the historic royals excelled at, it’s murder,” Jamie agreed.

She started on the path that led toward her dorm, but he paused. “I was actually going out to watch the game. Want to come?”

Nina hesitated, uncertain whether he’d just asked her on a date. “What game?”