The Girl Who Dared to Think (The Girl Who Dared #1)

How could they have found out so soon? Had my number been flagged for rising too quickly? What if they had found out about the pill? What was going to happen to me?

At that moment I felt very much like I was in freefall, with the added spike of fear and adrenaline that came from missing a lash connection. Only this time, I wasn’t sure there was a lash hold within distance that could save me.

“Squire?”

I blinked up at Gerome, who was looking down at me, and realized he was waiting for me.

“Sir?” I said, coming around to face him at attention. It was more habit than anything, but it was ingrained, something familiar, and it helped keep the growing fear at bay. Not by much, but it helped.

Gerome studied my face, his expression thoughtful. “You look a little pale, Squire. Are you unwell?”

“No,” I said, and then belatedly realized I could’ve lied. Clenching my teeth together to prevent a curse from slipping out, I quickly scrambled, looking for something to explain my paleness that didn’t rhyme with “terrified beyond belief that you caught me doing something potentially (definitely) illegal,” and managed to fabricate one from seemingly nowhere.

“I’m just surprised, sir. I didn’t expect to see you today. I’m not on duty.”

Gerome frowned, his eyebrows meeting over his nose as he drew them together. “We were supposed to meet today, remember? We discussed this on Tuesday.”

I frowned, doing the math, and my frown morphed into a scowl. No, you and Prim discussed it. Liana was not around.

Then relief washed over me as I realized he wasn’t there to arrest me. We just had something we needed to talk about, I guessed. I took a deep breath, trying not to let my relief show in front of Gerome. He’d notice.

“I’m sorry, Knight Commander,” I said, shaking my head. “I must have forgotten. It’s a side effect of the medication, you know. Can you refresh my memory?”

“Of course,” Gerome said smoothly, nodding us toward the bridge. “But it’s a lot better if I just show you.”





13





Gerome and I walked in relative silence back toward the Citadel, and I used the time to collect myself... and speculate on what this appointment could be. I still had no access to memories from when Prim had been in control, so that didn’t help me. Could it be an early assessment? Was he recommending that I be promoted to full Knight? A rush of excitement went through me at the thought. I looked down at the nine sparkling on my wrist and felt the corners of my mouth quirk up. But I quickly forced them down. Nines did not smile that often.

The guards loomed ahead, and I turned my wrist out as I approached, watching their recognition turn stupefied as they took in my new number. As if they had never expected me to reach that rank.

“Your number has risen so much, Liana,” Gerome said as we entered the main terminal—the centermost levels in the Citadel, reserved as offices for receiving complaints and running missions. “I was satisfied when you had increased to a five, but when I heard from your parents that you had reached nine, I knew you were ready for this. Ready for the chance to serve Scipio properly.”

I thought about the possibility of a promotion and found myself smiling again. “It’s my honor to serve Scipio in whatever way I can,” I informed him, and he gave a tight nod. He ushered me onto an elevator—we actually had to wait a minute for a group of Hands heading to another level—and then we were descending.

“So where are we going?” I asked, the breeze of displaced air from our descent causing my hair to blow around my face. I gathered it and twisted it into a ball, securing it with a band, and looked over at Gerome, who was watching the numbers descend.

“To the prisons,” he replied, and I frowned. Why would we be going there?

Because this is a ruse, a scared voice inside me whispered. He’s leading you like a lamb to slaughter, and you’re falling for it, hook, line, and sinker.

I pushed through the fear and propelled myself forward off the lift as soon as it hit, trying not to gag at the stale scent of dried sweat already radiating from the dimly lit tunnel. This part of the Citadel was different from the rest; instead of dark, mottled metal, the walls were grated, with thin slits of red light coming through them and washing everything with the color. Exposed yellow bulbs in the ceiling glowed dimly, but it made the entire area seem grungy, and a foreboding feeling settled at the base of my spine. I suddenly did not want to be here.

Gerome continued forward, oblivious to my hesitancy. I watched his departing back, considering the elevator behind me, and managed to talk myself out of the urge to run away. Running would mean guilt. Running wouldn’t be something a nine would do.

We were halfway down the hall when the first glass window appeared. I looked through it, curious, and paused when I saw a medical table inside, covered in straps, with long, mechanized arms that held gleaming needles ominously hovering over it. The table was, thankfully, empty, but I cringed to think about the views ahead. Were they going to be empty as well, or... were there going to be people in them?

“Gerome? What is this?” I asked, unable to help myself.

Gerome paused, some ten feet ahead of me now, and turned back, looking at me. “I know you’ve never been here before, Liana... but surely you know what we do down here.”

Restructuring. The final process to try to salvage the best traits possible in a one or two. The process was a secret, known only to the highest-ranked members of the Citadel. My stomach roiled as I eyed the table in the room, the mechanical arms holding long needles poised and ready over the headrest, and I was suddenly grateful beyond words that Grey had given me that pill. A three had been too close to this fate. Far too close. I looked down the hall past Gerome, at the windows ahead, and he, for once, seemed to understand what I was feeling.

“It’s okay to be nervous, Liana,” he said. “I was too, when I first came down here. Be that as it may, I made sure to schedule this for a time when treatments weren’t happening. All the rooms are empty right now.”

I exhaled, and was suddenly grateful to Gerome. Grateful, and surprised—it didn’t seem like him to protect me from anything. That also meant there was a reason he had done so. And that meant, whatever restructuring entailed, it was pretty awful. I shuddered and moved away from the window, eager to be out of this hall.

I kept my eyes down as we walked, only glancing ahead and not through any more windows as we moved. I couldn’t bear to see those tables, imagining myself on them, let alone any of the people I cared about. If I stared, it would stop me cold. I would look just the way I felt, which could clue Gerome in that my nine might not be as genuine as he thought. The door at the end of the hall was wreathed in red lights, and Gerome came to a stop in front of it.

“Knight Commander Gerome Nobilis,” he announced.