It had been easy to commit to this before she'd realized she had a target painted on her back. Easy to jest about the crown jewels when thousands of people weren't out there calling the queen's name. Someone had to realize she was a fraud. Someone would notice.
Or worse, they'd put a bullet in her head.
"Breathe," Malloryn warned her, cupping a gentle hand against her cheek. "The parade route is patrolled by so many Nighthawks, nobody's going to get near enough to take a shot."
"This corset is too tight."
Of course, said his eyes. "It's the steel inserts. I won't let anyone hurt you."
She didn't care who saw them then. All of the servants around them knew of the ruse, and Gemma wouldn't care. Adele grabbed a fistful of his shirt and hauled him down for a kiss.
A kiss to catch her balance.
A kiss to ground her.
One last chance to touch him before she had to perform.
Malloryn drew back, breathing hard. He rested his forehead against hers. "You're going to ruin my reputation. If anyone sees us, they'll think I'm having an affair with the queen."
"I'm fairly certain Sir Gideon Scott might have something to say about that."
He looked at her sharply. "Scott?"
"You haven't seen the way he looks at her? And she at him? They're besotted with each other, though neither dares make the first move."
It was clear he hadn't.
"Oh, Malloryn." Adele slid her hands inside his coat, resting her forehead against his chest, where she could hear his heart beating. "How can you be so all-knowing, and yet so blind to what's happening right beneath your nose?"
"The queen?"
"I thought that was why you sent her off to his estate with him." All those little plots, and he'd missed the most delicious one. "A masterful stroke, I thought."
"Suffice it to say," he grumbled, "but I don't always see what's right beneath my nose. Especially when it comes to people wearing their hearts on their sleeves. Scott and the queen? Who would have guessed?" He frowned. "I've been pushing her to consider a European prince."
"Do you think she'll accept one of their proposals?"
"Considering she practically snarled at me when I suggested it, my hopes remain low." Malloryn stepped back, a considering look on his face.
Adele recognized it. "You have your 'meddling' face on. I shouldn't have told you."
"Scott might make an ideal consort. He's the head of the Humans First party, a councilor, and decidedly conservative in his decisions."
"You mean, he listens to you?"
Malloryn flashed her a smile. "Sometimes. More importantly, he talks her around when she's being irrational. The humans of London would rejoice, though this will cause problems among the Echelon. A human queen and a human consort? Even those blue bloods who've accepted the new way of doing things will grumble about it."
Adele fixed his collar. "It's nice to see you plotting the future of the realm again. But perhaps this can wait until we kill Lord Balfour and hang his remaining Rising Sons."
"I never knew you were so bloodthirsty."
"Dead enemies don't cause future problems."
"You practically read my mind sometimes." Malloryn captured her hand and lifted it to his lips. "Do you know, if we survive this, I think we're going to make a formidable pair."
"Oh, Malloryn." She rolled her eyes. "We've been a formidable pair ever since you surrendered to me."
"Did I surrender?"
Adele shot him a wicked smile. "Many, many times."
The parade through the streets was a nerve-wracking affair.
Adele waved at the crowd from a closed carriage with Gemma, Ingrid, and Lark, whilst Malloryn rode at the head of the column and deployed his teams of Coldrush Guards with a stern hand. Adele forced herself to smile, buoyed by the throng of humans and mechs who swarmed the parade route, waving the queen's colors in the air.
Nothing had been left to chance.
Charlie and Jack were working with a scrambling device Lena had created during the revolution in order to counteract any automaton attacks; Obsidian, Byrnes, and Kincaid made dashing Coldrush Guards; and the Nighthawks' dirigible prowled overhead. Several nearby contingents were prepared to whisk her out of the way the second any signs of danger erupted.
Balfour, curse the man, declined to accept the opportunity they'd presented, though an assassination attempt during the parade had been the lowest of Malloryn's suspected possibilities for the day.
Gemma eased a sigh of relief as they rode beneath the arches of the gate towers that guarded the Ivory Tower. "Well, ladies. It looks like tonight is going to be the night."
Adele breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness. I can't wait to get out of this armored corset."
"I'm sure Malloryn will assist you." Gemma looked completely innocent.
"But then we'll never get to the ball."
Everyone who was anyone in the Echelon was invited.
Especially those on a certain membership list.
Malloryn wanted nothing left to chance. He wanted them to take their shot at him when he dictated, not when they did.
The ballroom practically glittered, there were so many lights, and the mirrors that lined the chamber made it seem as though there were thousands of guests.
"What the hell is Balfour waiting for?" Adele murmured as she accepted a glass of watered-down wine that Malloryn provided for her. Her husband was carefully managing the aristocrats who attempted to get close to her, keeping them at enough distance to maintain her subterfuge, but her nerves were frayed around the edges.
"A chance," he murmured, surveying the ballroom and the Nighthawks who were wearing the Coldrush Guards uniform. They surrounded the ballroom discreetly.
"Maybe you scared him away?"
"He'll be here. I can feel it."
There was a slightly feral gleam to his eye, and black bled through his irises. Every inch of him quivered with the intense desire to finally get his hands on Balfour.
Out of everything, it was this fact that bothered her the most.
She couldn't help feeling as though their time together was slowly ticking to an end.