“Mind if I come in?” Will asks. His eyes widen as they move over me.

I motion him inside, banishing thoughts of the king. “What are you doing here?” I ask once Will closes the door behind him.

“I wanted to say goodbye to you,” he says. He shifts his weight, sliding his hands into his pockets. His eyes flick over me again. “You look really nice.”

I snort. “Yeah, if by nice you mean I look like a giant peacock,” I say, picking up a piece of the dress and letting it flutter back to my side.

Will sits down next to me. “You make it look good,” he says, his eyes full of that same intensity I’d seen him wear earlier.

Suddenly I get the impression that this isn’t just a friendly goodbye. Will’s not looking at me like I’m the soldier who fought alongside him. Nor is he looking at me like the friend who would stay up late talking about anything and everything that crossed our minds.

He’s looking at me the way a lover should.

“Serenity, you’re going to save our country,” he says, clasping my hand.

I shake my head. “Don’t put that on me, Will. We both know how this ends.”

“No,” he says, squeezing my hand tightly. “We don’t. And the representatives wouldn’t send you if they didn’t think you’d sway the king.”

The king. I’d have to speak with him, smile at him, pretend that he didn’t destroy everything that I held dear.

“But more than that, you have to come back because I’ll be waiting for you.”

My throat constricts. I can’t tell if it’s from this strange ardor of his or that, in this moment, I realize I will never experience love. Not given my circumstances.

Will’s expression softens. It’s such a foreign emotion on him that I almost laugh.

And then he leans down and presses his lips to mine.

For a moment, I’m so shocked I do nothing but sit there. And then I recover and kiss him back. I would’ve thought my lips would be clumsy, but they’re not, and the kiss … the kiss is nice.

When it ends, I blink at him. Will has a whimsical look on his face. It relaxes his hard features, and it speeds up my heart to think that I’m responsible for it.

I take in his dark eyes. “I didn’t know.”

“Now you do.” He’s looking at me like he’s waiting for something else. Something more.

I touch my fingers to my lips. “I wish things were different,” I say, because it’s the only thing I can.

The sharp lines return to his face. “So do I.” He eyes the door across from us and clears his throat. “We should probably get going. I’m supposed to be escorting you out.”

I nod and grab my bag. As I sling it over my shoulder, both Will and I hear the clank of metal inside it.

Will raises his eyebrows. “They’re not going to let you take your gun.”

“Then they’re going to have to pry it away from my cold, dead hands.” And I mean it. If I’m going to die on enemy soil—and I have no doubt that I am—I want the few beloved possessions close by. One of those is the gun my father gave me. Morbid, I know, but during the last ten years it’s become a dear and trusted companion.

A smile spreads along Will’s face. “I’m not sure even death could take that gun away from you.” His smile slips as soon as he says the words, and I get the impression that he’s vividly imagining it. My death.

“C’mon, let’s go.” Will takes my hand, threading his fingers through mine. This is the first time he’s held my hand that I can remember. I can’t help but think that it’s too little too late.

I take one last look at the barracks as we slip out the door. The room is the closest thing I’ve had to a home for a long time now. But as I take in the narrow beds, the cement walls and floor, the basin all eight of us use to wash out hands and faces, I can’t say I’m all that sorry to leave.

My heels clack as we walk through the bunker, drawing attention my way. The people we pass stop and stare. News has spread that I’m going to Geneva for the peace talks. I’m now the girl walking to her execution in a dress. But some look hopeful, and their hope gives me courage.

Will’s palm slickens the closer we get to the stairwell, which will take us to the surface. As soon as we round the corner and see it, his hand tightens on mine.

“This is where I leave you,” he says.

I nod. Swallow. No one goes outside unless ordered to. The radiation from the blasts is still too dangerously high. And if the radiation doesn’t kill you, your fellow citizens might.

Will tugs on our clasped hands, pulling me to him. “Make it back here alive,” he says. His lips brush my forehead. It’s not a goodbye kiss, and I really appreciate that.

After a moment, he lets me go. I back up to the stairwell door, watching him. I feel hyper alive. It’s the same feeling I have every time I fight on the battlefield. I can’t figure out if it’s the sudden, startling possibility of Will and me or the prospect of meeting the king that has me feeling this way, but it’s not an unpleasant sensation.

“I’ll try my best to come back alive,” I say.

Will gives me a small smile. “I’m holding you to that, Serenity.”

I climb the stairs for what seems like ages. When I finally reach the top, the floor closest to the surface, several people wait for me. Among them are the general and my father.

My father’s eyebrows nudge up when he sees me. This is the first time I’ve ever looked remotely feminine.

“You look … just like your mother,” he manages to say. I blush at this—that’s the best compliment my father could’ve given me.

General Kline grunts his approval. “Now that you’re here, Serenity, it’s time to get moving.” As he speaks, the general begins leading the group to the garage, where all our vehicles are kept. “We’re sending a dozen guards to go with you two,” the general says to my father and me. “They are there to protect you should negotiations dissolve.”

The general, my father, and I get into one of the military vehicles. The rest of our entourage piles into two other cars.

“I want you both to report to me every night,” General Kline continues. “Be sure to watch your words. Let’s assume the king can hear everything you say to me. You both know the code words.”