Secondborn

Gilad looks like a malignant hobgoblin with his scarred face and his dead man’s stare. “Anytime,” Gilad replies.

“Are you her unit commander?” Clifton asks Hawthorne with a speculative look.

“No. I’m just someone who looks out for secondborns.”

Emmitt is positively gleeful beside me. He claps his hands and whirls me toward the drone cameras outside, whispering in my ear. “You are fast becoming my favorite person in the entire fatedom! Gah! Clifton Salloway and that gorgeous Sword are fighting over my little Roselle. What’s next?” He stops at the threshold, drunk on the testosterone in the room. “Now,” he says as he puts his hands on my shoulders and squeezes, “keep your wits about you, and you’ll survive this to live another day.”

Another day may be the best that I can hope for. The doors open, and he gives me a little shove out onto the balcony. The doors close behind me, and I’m alone with a wall of reporters. The sun rises slowly beside us. I squint a little as my eyes adjust. I pull the leather coat tighter around me. Squaring my shoulders, I walk a few more steps to meet the strobe flashes and jockeying reporters beyond the railing.

Questions are shouted from many angles. “Roselle, are you and Clifton Salloway lovers? Where have you been for the past four days? How did you and Clifton meet? Did Clifton rescue you from the Gates of Dawn soldiers? Does Clifton Salloway know that you’re secondborn? How long have you been keeping this affair a secret? What does your brother think of your affair with Firstborn Salloway? Does Gabriel feel threatened by this relationship?”

“Hello,” I greet them. I look at everyone, allowing the photographers and drones to get their pictures, pausing a few seconds in as many directions as I can.

“Roselle, Roselle.” Desdemona Diamond vies for my attention. I shift in her direction, and she asks, “Is Firstborn Clifton Salloway your lover?”

Instead of frowning or scowling as I’d like to do, I laugh softly. “I only just met Firstborn Salloway a few moments ago. He very charmingly introduced himself near the door there.” I point over my shoulder at the silhouette of Clifton in the glass. He waves to the reporters. “And I could no more have a relationship with him or any other man of my acquaintance without violating a hundred different laws. The last time I checked, that was forbidden.”

Suki Diamond shouts the loudest. “How do you explain your appearance in his apartment, then?” The reporters crowd toward her.

“Firstborn Salloway was gracious enough to offer his apartment to us last night to prepare for this press conference.”

“Who is the us you’re referring to?”

“The team of secondborn soldiers who have accompanied me to the press conference.”

“How come you need a team of soldiers to accompany you while in the Stone Forest Base? Do they fear for your safety? Are you a target for the Gates of Dawn?”

“I don’t have an answer for that question. You’ll have to address it to the company commander or the admiral of the Stone Forest Base.”

“Do you believe that the Gates of Dawn were specifically targeting you in the attack on the Sword capital of Forge?” asks a dark-haired secondborn man with a small scar through the center of his top lip. He doesn’t look at me but holds an audio dictator out, reading its screen as it takes notes for him.

“The enemy soldiers were along my route to the Stone Forest Base, so to a certain extent, I believe they targeted me for the media appeal of the event.”

“How did you know they were enemy soldiers?” he asks.

“They had visors and helmets that were different from Sword soldiers.”

“Why would they attack you, do you think?”

“I don’t see this as a personal attack. I believe they wanted to do as much damage as possible and scare as many people as they could. My Transition fit that profile.”

The man looks impressed by my interpretation. “Do you have any insight as to how they entered the Fate of Swords?”

“No.”

“But if you had to guess?” he presses.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

“Did you like the white flowers they brought you?”

I don’t answer right away. His question brings unbidden tears to my eyes. I swallow hard and look down at my ring, trying to look bored rather than shocked by his callousness. The platforms have grown quiet. The clicks of drone cameras are loud and rapid. When I’m certain my voice won’t betray me, I look up and give my best impersonation of my father’s fatal smirk. “I find calla lilies more appealing than roses. I’ll be sure to bring them some in return the next time we meet.”

The reporters swarm, understanding my meaning. Voices shout questions. “Will you deploy with the next wave of Swords to the battlefield?”

“I haven’t yet gotten my orders.”

“Did you witness the explosion that brought down the airships?”

I pause. “No. I didn’t witness an explosion. I saw one airship crash.” It’s a lie of omission, and it bothers me.