Page 25

“ G ood of you to finally join us.” Marissa Calvernon was still clothed in her satin dress, but pearls accented her neck and decorated the lobes of her ears.

The dining room was decorated similarly as the rest of the castle—stone walls, gold candelabras, elaborate tapestries on the long wall to the left, and a row of stained-glass windows on the wall to the right.

Where the Presidential Palace fancied white marbles, crystals, and lace, the Calvernon Estate was all medieval castle with dark stones, heavy red fabrics, and iron.

The only thing they shared was a propensity for gold accenting.

As different as the dining rooms were, the luxury and wealth of the room sent a shudder down my spine as memories of awkward family dinners danced in my mind.

“Miss de la Puente, you’ll sit over there,” the First Lady pointed at an empty chair at the northern end of the long antique table. I’d been so busy taking in the room, I failed to notice the eighteen occupied chairs, most of whom contained faces I didn’t recognize. But one caught my eye.

Sasha sat at the head of the southern end of the table, opposite to a man with graying brown hair, clean shaven, and stunning green eyes.

He was handsome, and although he bore little resemblance to his sons, I knew instantly that this was Charles Calvernon, leader of the North.

I also saw Sergeant Major Giza, and, to my dismay, Fisher.

“Come, Wes,” Marissa called as she walked to join her husband’s side. Wes cast me a quick glance, the smirk he’d been wearing falling into a stoic expression devoid of emotion as he took the seat next to mine.

I glanced at Sasha, who smiled at me. “Good evening, Mara.”

“Hi,” I squeaked out, causing Sasha to raise a single brow before shifting her attention away from me.

I turned away from her and slipped into my chair, looking at all the other faces that I didn’t recognize. I leaned over to Wes and whispered, “Who are all of these people?”

“Members of the original Council. Reps from the North and East,” he muttered under his breath.

I sat back, wrapping my brain around the information. I leaned over again. “Why are they all here?”

Wes shrugged his shoulders. So, it wasn’t typical to have dinner on a random weeknight with the whole Council of the UFA. Interesting …

“Good evening, everyone.” Charles stood up, a smile lighting up his face.

And, unlike my own father, Charles’s smile was warm and bright.

“It is good of you all to join us. I invited you all to dinner tonight to officially welcome Miss Mara de la Puente to our home and to the North.” He shifted his gaze to me, as did everyone else in the room, and I instantly felt my cheeks flush with warmth.

“Uh, hi,” the words croaked out as I waved my hand timidly.

“I know I haven’t officially introduced myself, Miss de la Puente, but I’m Charles Calvernon, and I am happy to welcome the First Daughter of Telvia to Calvernon Estate.

Marissa and I”—he motioned to his wife who smiled, but the expression didn’t reach her eyes—“are happy to host you in our home and welcome you into our family.”

My lips parted at the last bit, the mention of me being welcomed into his family. But before I could utter a single sound, he continued.

“As we come toward the last quarter of the year, I wish to remind us all of what we have lost.” Taking his wife’s hand, a solemn look stole the joy he once expressed. “Loss is a heavy burden, and we have all lost so much.”

My heart tightened, because I knew exactly what he was talking about, who he was talking about.

And I was reminded, suddenly, that although it felt like an entire lifetime had gone by, Chase’s death was only five months ago, and this family was still in the throes of grieving the loss of their favored son.

Charles took his cloth napkin and dabbed his eye briefly before clearing his throat and continuing.

“Our son was our pride and joy, destined to do great things. The promise of all that is good rested in his hands.” I stole a quick glance at Wes, but his face had gone blank, eyes dark.

My heart broke for him. Not only was Wes still grieving and experiencing his parents’ grief, but announcements like these had to be a bitter reminder that he was not the son the Calvernons wanted to survive. Or at least that’s what Wes believed.

Charles cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “But, alas, he died a hero’s death, fighting for a cause that is dear to all our hearts.” He paused, looking at his guests, allowing the silence to deepen. When he seemed satisfied, he held his head high and continued.

“Today, the Council met to discuss the future of the rebellion. The raid at the rebel camp was a disastrous blow to the Dissenter cause, leaving the number of those willing to sacrifice their lives dangerously low and supplies limited. We also cannot forget the threat that Telvia and its ruler are to all of us, to every region. We all know that Raúl will not stop until he has gained control of all factions, amassing an empire living under one ruthless dictator. None of us are safe while Raúl de la Puente continues to exist.”

Movement caught my attention as some individuals shifted in their chairs, glares and accusatory glances resting on me. I resisted the urge to crawl under the table and die. Instead, I swallowed— hard —and tried to keep my focus on Charles.

He picked up his glass, holding it out in front of him.

“Despite the losses we have faced, we have much to celebrate. Because today, today the Council has taken steps to ensure not only the survival of the rebel cause, but the independence of each region. Today, we celebrate the survival of President De’vor, dear friend and ally.

” I glanced at Sasha, who smiled at Charles, lifting her own glass in front of her.

“Today, we celebrate a special collaboration, one that will reinstate the union and camaraderie that has been upheld and cherished between the future leader of Telvia and the North.”

Whoa now! I looked back at Sasha, who stood tall and proud. Sasha was going to become the future leader of Telvia? Is that what she was really after all along? I had to be misunderstanding something. I glanced at Wes, our eyes meeting as a similar look of confusion riddled his face.

“Today,” Charles continued, “we celebrate the promised union of the North with the future Telvian nation.”

My mind tumbled over itself. What the hell is going on?

“Today, we celebrate the promising of my son, Wes Calvernon, to the First Daughter of Telvia, Mara de la Puente.” I felt hot as all eyes fell on me and Wes, and the urge to crawl under the table resurfaced. Raising his glass high into the air, Charles declared, “A toast!”

“Cheers,” cried the room, but I didn’t even notice. My world was spinning. I knew Wes and I were betrothed and all, but this whole Sasha-as-the-new-leader-of-Telvia thing seemed to come out of left field.

Wealth.

Power.

Survival.

Revenge.

Sasha’s words rang through my head. I closed my eyes, shutting the world out as the realization hit me hard.

I knew Sasha’s brother had been the former president of the West. But I never stopped to think about what would happen when Raúl was removed from power.

I never thought about who would take over or how the whole thing would go down after the revolution was done.

I guess I just assumed that a new president would be elected.

I never stopped to think about it with any depth.

But Sasha had told me everything I needed to know that day in the Situation Room, hadn’t she?

She warned me that everyone was motivated by four things.

I knew she was talking about the Calvernons, but I just failed to read between the lines and apply those same four motives to her.

I opened my eyes, feeling my stomach churn as the smell of food invaded my senses. I felt sick.

Wes bumped my shoulder softly, and I turned to see furrowed brows and questioning eyes. “You okay?” I grimaced, but gave him a quick nod before I turned away from him.

“What about a gala?” Fisher’s voice weaseled in through my thoughts.

Who, what, when now? What was this about a gala? I tuned back into the room as Charles spoke up.

“Yes! Excellent idea, Gary. A gala would be a marvelous way to announce the engagement.”

A different woman spoke up. “We could set it out in two weeks. That would give us time to prepare.”

“Yes! Yes!” Charles exclaimed. His exuberance appeared genuine, but all I felt was more and more nausea.

What the hell was happening? What was going on now?

“Perhaps,” Fisher pipped in again, “we could have him propose to her at the gala. It would be like a fairytale. The people would love it!”

Charles slammed his fist on the table, causing all the dishes to clatter. “Yes! A wonderful way to lift the spirits of the people.”

“It might even help to bring more people to our cause,” Sasha added.

Oh my god…they were talking about me, about us .

This whole thing was going to be some giant show, a giant parade of propaganda.

Not only was I going to have to go through with getting engaged, but I was going to have to do it in front of an audience.

I just…I couldn’t do this anymore. I felt my stomach twist and turn.

And this time, I was pretty sure I was going to throw up.

“Excuse me.” I barely got the words out as I pushed my chair away from the table and left the room.