Chapter 28 · Peak of the Lie

"Smile, Sera. You look like you're heading to a funeral, not a gala," Nora whispered, her voice like silk wrapped around a razor blade.

She didn't look at me. She was too busy staring into the vanity mirror, adjusting a gold cuff that probably cost more than my entire childhood home. The lights of the dressing room were blinding, bouncing off the white marble and the sheer amount of fake perfection radiating from the woman beside me.

"Maybe I am," I snapped, crossing my arms. "Yours."

Nora finally turned. Her eyes were cold, scanning me from my boots to my hairline. She stepped closer, the scent of expensive jasmine and something metallic—something like ozone—hitting me. She reached out, her fingers grazing the lapel of my suit, tugging it just enough to make me stumble forward.

"Careful with the attitude," she murmured, her breath warm against my ear. "Remember who holds the leash. One word from me, and the High Archon's guards will have you in a damp cell before you can say 'fraud.'"

I stiffened, my heart hammering against my ribs. "I'm doing my part. I'm here. I'm wearing the damn suit.