I didn’t particularly care about what the doctors thought—or the fact that Knox thought the bedroom was tiny—but my legs were shaking so badly underneath me that my knees were practically knocking together. A wheelchair might have been embarrassing, but it had to be better than collapsing.
“Promise to take me wherever I want to go?” I said.
Knox placed his hand over his heart. “You have my word as your loving and devoted fiancé.”
I rolled my eyes and eased myself down into the chair.
My legs ached with pain beyond anything I’d ever felt before, and I could feel where they’d elongated the bones and tissue. No wonder they’d kept me unconscious.
“Where to, Your Highness?” said Knox as he handed me a blanket. I tucked it in around my lap, grateful for the warmth.
“Think you can manage a tour?” He’d never let me leave the building, but I might as well learn the layout.
Knox pushed me forward. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The long hallway was only the start of it. Knox wheeled me down another one, then another, and an- other, and I struggled to remember where we’d turned.
It wasn’t until I started imagining the hallways as the sewers that I figured out a way to keep track. I knew the sewer system better than most city workers, and it was dangerous to get lost down there. I was willing to bet it wasn’t half as dangerous as it would be getting lost in this place, though.
“Where are the exits?” I said. The doors all blended into the walls, and none of them looked like they would lead to the streets.
“Thinking about leaving us so soon?” said Knox.
“There might be a fire,” I said lamely, and I could practically hear his grin as he pushed me into an elevator. They were rare in the Heights, most being rickety and the sort that broke down once a week, and I hated the way I felt trapped inside them. But I was stuck in the chair for now, and I doubted this elevator broke down much at all. It was exquisite, with the ceiling made of white molding and buttons that shone like gold. Mirrors surrounded us on all four sides, and I saw the scowl on my unfamiliar face. Lila even looked pretty when she was miserable.
That was also the first good look I had at my new body.
As the elevator flew upward, I stared at myself, trying to find any connection to my real appearance. Everything from my hair to my feet had been changed into an exact copy of Lila’s, and the harder I looked, the more I realized even I couldn’t tell the difference.
My eyes widened as I caught sight of my chest, and my hands flew upward. “You gave me implants? ”
In the mirrors I could see Knox struggling to keep a straight face. “I didn’t do anything, and I doubt they’re implants. Those haven’t been done in years. Chances are they’re as real as your old ones.”
I didn’t find that very comforting. “What was wrong with mine?”
“They weren’t Lila’s.”
“Yeah, but there wasn’t that much of a difference, was there? Who spends so much time staring at Lila’s chest that they’d notice?”
Knox smirked. “Roughly half the population.”
My face turned scarlet, and I was still trying to come up with some kind of retort when the doors glided open, flooding the elevator with sunlight.
For a moment I thought I was imagining things. Clear blue sky stretched out before me, nothing like the smoggy skies of the District of Columbia, and white peaks loomed in the distance. Mountains.
“This is the exit,” said Knox, wheeling me forward so we were close to the edge of the roof. The bitter wind whipped around me, but I was too dazed to worry about the cold. We were in a compound that seemed to be carved out of the mountain itself. When I stood on my shaky legs to look around, there were no towns or houses or anything in sight. Just the roof and snowy peaks.
“You didn’t think we’d keep you in the city while we made the alterations, did you?” said a voice behind me.
Daxton.
He sauntered toward us, wearing a crisp black suit that made him look as if he’d come from some extravagant event. Behind him stood a jet with the Hart family crest stamped on the tail, and the air around it seemed to ripple from the heat of the engines.
“Where are we?” I said, wishing my voice wasn’t trembling as much as my knees. I grabbed the rail to steady myself.
“Somewhere no one will find you,” said Daxton, smiling as he removed his leather gloves. “The family calls it the Stronghold, and its location is quite secret. You understand.” He winked. “We thought this was the safest place for you until you’ve adjusted.”
Until there was no chance I’d give away their game publicly, he meant. “How long will that be?”
“That, my dear, is entirely up to you.” He unwound his scarf and stepped toward me. I flinched, but he gently wrapped it around my neck. “Wouldn’t want you to catch cold in this chill.”
“I’ll take her back inside,” said Knox, and he touched my elbow. I stood my ground, refusing to let go of the frozen rail.
“What do you want from me before I’m not your prisoner anymore?”
“My dear,” said Daxton, his eyes wide with mock concern. “You’re not my prisoner. If you really wish to go, we won’t keep you here, but do understand that there will be consequences if you choose to leave.”
Like a bullet with my name on it. “Yeah, I know.”
Knox cleared his throat. “Sir, I believe she means how long she’s stuck here until she can take over for Lila.”
Daxton’s lips curled upward into a leering smile. “Have you decided not to fight us after all? What pleasant news.
Mother will be thrilled to hear it.”
I dug my nails into the steel railing. “I’m not going to fight you. Tell me what I need to do to get out of this place, and I’ll do it.”
Daxton cupped my cheek, his hand like fire in the icy wind. “I am so very happy to hear that, darling. I understand how difficult this must be for you, and we are all here to help you. I will have Knox and Celia begin working with you tomorrow. Only your progress will dictate how long it will take. I am hoping for a few weeks, but it will last as long as it must.”
Unless I was hopeless. Then I had no doubt it would be easy enough to replace me.
“When we’re certain you will pass muster, you will meet Mother,” he continued. “She will be the final judge.”
I tightened my grip on the railing and tried not to sway. Nina called Augusta Hart the Bitch Queen, and with good reason. There hadn’t been a single photograph taken of her since before I was born that showed her smiling, and she was notoriously unforgiving with both the people and her own family. It was common gossip that her husband, Edward, had just been a figurehead while she ruled the country with an iron fist, and apparently the same was true for Daxton.