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commanders, police chiefs, and other businessmen and women when she was a child. Every other month they’d met to discuss Northern Federation issues, to govern the North . Including anyone from the Eastern Federation, much less the leader of a rebel group, would have been like inviting a traitor over for dinner.
    â€œPerhaps he just wants their voice heard,” said Darcy.
    â€œThen perhaps he should tell his people to stop stealing our weapons and ambushing Northern troops.”
    â€œSometimes people feel opposition is the only way to get attention.” A vein appeared on Darcy’s forehead. She appeared as if she might say more, but her mouth snapped shut at the creaking of footsteps in the foyer. They both turned toward the front of the house, but the noise had stopped. It was probably a maid, dusting the hallway paintings.
    â€œLet’s return to task,” Darcy said quickly. “Did you encounter a problem with the poem?”
    â€œI just want to know—”
    â€œThe poem,” she said firmly, ending their previous talk.
    â€œYes,” said Lena. She leaned forward in her desk chair; the bolts of fabric tightened around her waist and made it difficult to breathe. “The problem is it’s pointless to learn the ancient languages when they serve absolutely no practical purpose in the real world.”
    â€œAnd what would you know of the real world, my dear?”
    Lena stood sharply at the sound of her father’s voice from the study door. Josef Hampton was statuesque as always, his face clean-shaven, smooth as bronze, his black hair neatly combed. The gray suit he wore had been pressed to crisp lines. Its gray vest was open at the front, an indication that he’d just finished his morning meeting. She hadn’t expected him home so soon; he normally kept to his office, a separate cottage on their estate, until the evening.
    Lena smoothed down her hair, tucking a flyaway into the tight knot at the back of her neck. She cleared her throat, noting the way Darcy’s hands had folded in front of her hips and her head had fallen forward in respect for her employer.
    â€œGood morning, Father,” said Lena, unsure yet if his cool smile meant he was pleased to see her. She hoped he hadn’t overheard too much.
    â€œGood morning, Lena. Please, continue,” he said. “You were just telling the tutor about the faults in your curriculum.”
    Lena’s neck warmed. She lifted a gloved hand and waved off the comment. “I was just trying to lighten the mood.” She laughed. She couldn’t hear Darcy breathing. Lena hoped she didn’t plan on passing out.
    â€œI only meant,” continued Lena, “that I wish I could study something more useful. The old languages get their best use as party tricks these days. Everything now is in the common tongue.”
    Josef’s face did not change. “And what if I told you an education in the arts is one of the few things that separate us from the working class?”
    Lena turned back toward the window, wondering how it was possible that her father, the most brilliant man in the Northern Fed, could be so impractical. “Then I would say that Hampton Industries rests on the backs of the workers, not the back of the arts. And that there are a great many other things that separate us beside that. Circumstance, for instance.”
    â€œCircumstance?” chided her father. “Is that what children are calling money these days?”
    She wouldn’t know. She rarely socialized with others outside of committee parties, and her father didn’t approve of her mingling with the families of their subordinates. The Hamptons remained untouchable, leading the Northern Federation’s Tri-City area—the River District, Bakerstown, and the factory district—in revenue. But they hadn’t always been so fortunate. Her great-grandfather had worked his way up from poor means, living in a