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you that it has been tried. And it has failed—multiple times.”

I managed to keep my confusion off my face, but it was hard not to. I had no idea what he was getting at. “Sir?”

“You want to study him, right? See if you can crack the riddle of the ones? Many have tried, Liana, and at the end of the day, the reports are always the same: unknown causes. Some people are just dead weight. We live in hard times, and if we want to ensure our continued survival, the worthless must go.”

“You mean the ones who won’t conform,” I practically spat at him. I was exceptionally lucky he didn’t notice my flash of rage. I drew in a deep breath, trying to calm the churning anger that had blossomed under his callous words.

“Exactly. This society has no need for an individual who can’t contribute.”

I took a moment, as if to think about what he was saying, but was actually focused on getting back to the matter at hand, trying to reconfigure my argument in a way that would get me what I wanted. Determination and desperation were keeping me locked in on this trajectory. I just had to hope that neither feeling got me into trouble.

“Sir? I still very much want to meet the prisoner,” I stated flatly. “Even with these definitive studies, I still have to meet him. I have to make sure I am doing the right thing, once and for all.”

“Your faith should be in Scipio, Squire,” he said sharply.

“My faith is with Scipio,” I replied calmly. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he will be the first person I am going to kill. That is a lot to ask of anyone, and I intend to do it, but there is only so far faith is going to take me. So please. Give me peace of mind that what I am doing is the right thing. For all of us.”

Gerome paused, tilting his head from side to side in uncertainty.

“I cannot let you speak to him,” he said eventually, and—to my surprise—with a touch of regret. “But I can let you see him again. Maybe that will answer any questions you might have?”

I followed Gerome back to the cell, still unwilling to give up on the plan of getting the pill to Grey. I held my eyes fixed on the end of the gruesome hallway, ignoring the windows with the trays and equipment inside. He opened the door into the cell, and I almost pushed ahead of him through the door to see Grey.

Grey was huddled in the corner, as far away from the door as possible, and had grown even filthier than before in the short time that had passed. Bloody scraps of fabric were wadded up in one corner of the room—from where he had tried to bandage the cut on his chest, I was sure—and I turned to Gerome, unable to even look at the sight.

My words, however, continued to come out flat and disinterested. “Do you ever clean the cells?” I asked. “Or them?”

“That would be a waste of resources on a dead man. Besides, once they are in, they don’t leave until after the button has been pushed.”

My mouth pinched in disdain, but I hid it with a turn of my head. “That seems cruel.”

Gerome gave me a sad look. “Then push the button before it gets worse. Had you done it right away, it wouldn’t have gotten this bad.”

My eyes moved over to the button in question, then slid away in disgust. If I couldn’t figure out how to get Grey the pill, then someone else would kill him—and I’d be dropped from the Knights and quickly be on my way to joining him in death.

“I’m not ready,” I informed him coolly. “I might have been if I could have talked to him, but now I must find another way to come to terms with what I must do.”

The lies were coming easier now, and while I knew that should concern me, I was grateful for it. I just had to be careful.

“Then things will only get worse,” he said with a shrug.

I locked my jaw up tight to keep from replying, and looked back into the cell, studying it. I avoided looking at Grey as much as possible, knowing that seeing him in this condition could break me, and it was hard. My desperate and ill-conceived backup plan of slipping the pill into Grey’s food had died when Gerome talked about not wanting to waste resources. And even if Gerome hadn’t told me, it was painfully obvious that Grey wasn’t being fed. I watched as one hand went to his stomach, a grimace sliding over his face, and felt sick to my own stomach.

“I’ve seen enough,” I announced, turning around quickly.

Gerome didn’t move toward the door.

“Liana, you are making this much harder than it needs to be,” he said.

“Am I?” I asked, giving him a look while ignoring the burn of outrage at his words. “Killing isn’t something that should come naturally, sir, and while I understand that Scipio has decreed this, that doesn’t mean I can immediately perform the task. This is not easy, sir, and I don’t think it should be. Please respect that.”

Gerome just looked at me, his eyes stunned. “This is a shame. I had thought that if I brought you down here you would find the courage to get it over with, but I can see that you’re not ready. We’ve shown you this too soon. Don’t worry. Maybe in a few more months you’ll be ready.”

I started to nod, but then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw his arm move. It caught my attention, and I followed it, realizing quickly and with considerable alarm that he was reaching for the button. My heart stalled while a cold wash of ice shot down my spine, and suddenly I was moving. I didn’t remember crossing the room, or putting myself between

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