Chapter 17 You Don’t Get To Say That #4
She carefully returned the mask to its box, her movements more relaxed now. “Thank you. I expected your brother to put a potato sack over my head, so this is an improvement.”
To Greyson’s surprise, Lira laughed—not her practiced social laugh, but a genuine sound that he hadn’t heard in so long. “I suggested the sack, actually. Grey insisted on something more dignified.”
Shadera’s lips quirked upward, reluctant amusement breaking through her habitual guardedness. Something shifted in the air between the women—not friendship, nothing so simple, but a momentary acknowledgment of common ground.
“What exactly do you do?” Shadera asked Lira, her posture relaxing fractionally as she leaned back against the counter and tilted her head.
Greyson felt a prickle of warning at the back of his neck. He knew that look, had seen it multiple times in their own interactions. Shadera wasn’t just making conversation, she was gathering intelligence. Before he could intervene, Lira was answering.
“I manage public relations for the Heart,” she said, her voice taking on the practiced cadence she used for official functions.
“Specifically, I oversee the media and the narrative regarding the Serel family and Heart governance. I determine what information reaches the Cardinal and Boundary, and how it’s presented. ”
“So you’re the one who makes sure everyone in the rings gets a good view when your brother executes their friends on the live stream.” Shadera’s voice had gone flat, the brief moment of camaraderie evaporating.
Greyson stepped forward. “That’s not—”
“No, let me answer this,” Lira interrupted, raising a hand to stop him.
She tuned, facing Shadera directly. “Yes. I am. I make sure everyone sees exactly what the Heart wants them to see. I craft the stories that keep people compliant, that justify the executions, that maintain the system.” Her voice was steady, unflinching.
“I wasn’t born in the Boundary, with the luxury of open rebellion.
I wasn’t born in the Cardinal. I was born here, in this prison—make no mistake it is a prison, luxurious as it is—where every step is watched and measured. ”
Shadera’s expression remained hard, but she didn’t interrupt. Greyson still moved closer on instinct, preparing for her to attack.
“You think I don’t know what my father is?” Lira continued, something raw breaking through her polished exterior. “You think I don’t understand that the Heart is corrupt, that the system is broken? I’ve known it since I was old enough to recognize the fear in our maids’ eyes.”
She leaned on the counter closer to Shadera, her voice dropping lower.
“I do what I must to survive, just like you. The difference is that my survival doesn’t just depend on my own actions, but on my father’s perception of my loyalty.
Do you think I’m safe because of my last name?
Because of this?” She tapped a finger against her mask.
“I could be on that platform tomorrow if I step out of line—if I speak against him. If I show an ounce of sympathy for the wrong cause.”
Greyson watched this exchange with growing unease. He’d never heard Lira speak so openly about her position, not even to him. There was a naked honesty in her words that made him acutely aware of how much she normally concealed, even from family.
“Why don’t you—” Shadera began.
“Why don’t I do something about it?” Lira finished for her. “Because I lack the power, the authority, the position. Because I am a woman in a system designed by men to keep power in their hands. Because every time I’ve tried to mitigate suffering, I’ve been reminded of my place.”
Lira reached up and touched her mask, a gesture that seemed unconscious, habitual. “This isn’t just a symbol of status. It’s a muzzle. A constant reminder that my face, my identity, my very existence belongs to the Heart first, to the Serel name second, and to me last.”
The silence that followed felt weighted, heavy with truths that were rarely spoken aloud in the Heart. Greyson held his breath as the two women reassessed each other, calculating where to go from here.
“I don’t like you,” Lira said bluntly to Shadera. “Your people killed my brother. But we share a common enemy, whether you recognize it or not.”
“Your father,” Shadera said, a statement rather than a question.
“Maximus Serel is a monster,” Lira confirmed, and Greyson felt a chill at the simple declaration. “And he’s using all of us as pieces in whatever game he’s playing. So perhaps we can set aside our mutual distaste long enough to ensure we all survive it.”
Silence fell over the kitchen. Shadera studied Lira for a long moment, her expression smooth, unreadable.
“You said there were other things you needed to talk about. What are they?” Shadera finally asked.
Lira glanced at Greyson, as if gaging his reaction before answering.
“The Vow ceremony is in four days, tonight’s dinner is meant to test you.
It’s for my father to see how far he can push you before you snap so he will know your limits publicly.
Do not show him anything.” Greyson saw the nervous tic in her jaw before she spoke the next words.
“You’re about to step into a world that is crueler than you could ever imagine.
Talk to Greyson. Talk to each other. Make sure you understand what to expect so you are not blindsided. ”
Shadera’s back straightened. “What do you mean?”
“You two need to talk, really talk.” Lira pushed away from the counter, lifting the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll have appropriate clothing delivered before dinner.” She paused for only a beat, looking to Greyson. “Walk me out, brother?”
Greyson nodded once, escorting Lira toward the door without looking back at Shadera. He waited, biting his tongue until they had stepped outside the door and it closed behind him.
“Why would you say that to her?” he snapped, turning to Lira as they waited for the elevator. “Do you realize how angry she is going to be? And it’s not subtle anger, Li. It’s ‘slice my throat while I sleep and stab me in the heart’ kind of anger.”
Lira didn’t turn to look at him until the elevator doors slid open and she stepped inside. Greyson put his hand on the frame, forcing the doors to stay open until she gave him an answer.
“It doesn’t matter how much I hate her, Grey, she deserves to know what happens to the women here after the Vow and she needs to hear it coming from you.
If you want her on our side, if you want her to trust us, you have to tell her.
If you don’t, there will be no chance of her ever telling us anything. ”
Greyson stared at her for a long moment.
He knew she was right. Knew that the truth would be easier to swallow coming from him—but it was a truth he still hadn’t accepted himself.
His hand fell from the doors’ pathway and Lira disappeared behind them as they swept shut.
His reflection stared back at him in the glass, and for one breath he considered running.