Year 849

We're going to Mitras, Erwin told her. That was fifteen minutes ago. His voice echoed in her head, demonic and deep. Be ready in a half hour.

She paced the barracks, thoughts ricocheting inside her skull, wondering if she should just slit her throat right there and draw his name in blood with some horrible omen. Shouldn't be more than a day. He must've given her such short notice so she wouldn't have an opportunity to hide or fake an illness. Did it have something to do with Mr. Kaiser's letter? The threat of a court-martial? She gnawed a thumbnail to a jagged sliver. This was ridiculous. Her team had maps to redraw and Mila was coming along nicely with the ODM training. Sara had better make them run their drills, if she could find the time to stop giggling at Henry.

When the clock chimed nine o'clock, sooner than she'd anticipated, she shoved a few things in a bag and ran down the stairs, nearly tripping over herself in the process, and out the door in the unusually warm fall day. Better not be late, lest Erwin think of an even worse punishment.

Outside the compound gate sat a carriage, much nicer than the few that drove around Trost; normally farmers and wagons filled with livestock trod the dirt roads. The four horses were dappled gray and much sleeker and prettier than the ones she rode in expeditions. Suspicious, Katrine approached slowly, tiptoeing around the back, and jumped a bit when she found Miche leaning against the other side.

"You too, huh? Excited to go back home?" he asked.

She bit her tongue. Miche really was too tall. "I'm not really sure why I'm here."

"Budget talks with General Zackley! Something to look forward to every year." His tone dripped with sarcasm. "Erwin needs to show us off. Prove we deserve funding more than the other branches. Take it as a compliment, I remember how you were a year ago." He laughed and slapped a hand on the carriage's mahogany siding. "And, Zackley sent the nice carriage."

Katrine stood on her toes and peeked in the window. He was right. Better than a horse.

"Guess this is your punishment for that stunt you pulled." Katrine dropped to her heels when she heard Levi's voice. Him, too? Her nerves tightened to the point of snapping.

"Surprised I'm here before you," Miche said. "Busy starching your shirt?"

"Surprised you know what starching is," he responded, and Miche grunted.

"Good, you're all here," Erwin said, crunching gravel announcing his presence. "Quicker we get there, sooner we can leave." For once, she agreed. He motioned at the door with a flat palm. "Ladies first."

Katrine stepped inside the carriage and shoved herself into the corner, trying to disappear into the cushioned seats. Levi sat across from her and Erwin beside her, head buried in a notebook as soon as he sat down. Katrine looked pointedly out the window. Erwin was also too large. Right as they began to move she decided she'd prefer the horse.

"Be warned," Miche said to Katrine, his nose wrinkled. "Zackley smells."

"Like something crawled up his ass and died," Levi said.

"More like a manure pile topped with rotten eggs."

"A decaying skunk that's sat in the sun for a week."

"Enough," Erwin said, though not unkindly.

"You know it's true," Levi said. "You make a face every time you shake his hand."

He looked up from his notebook. "Do I?"

"Yeah, the one you get when you know that if you squeeze your asshole just a little tighter, Zackley'll throw you another coin." Seemed like Levi wasn't thrilled to go to Mitras either.

Erwin shrugged. "Your opinions on Zackley's bathing habits won't change how much of the budget he decides to allocate us. So please keep them to yourself."

Levi's eyes flicked to Katrine. For what? Backup? Assurance? She turned back to the window, twisting the end of her braid in her fingers.

The journey felt like it took both five minutes and an entire day. Flame-colored forests and dry, fallow fields gave way to buildings and paved roads, and before she could brace herself the carriage stopped and the door swung open. Following the others, she gripped the handrail as she gingerly placed one foot on the ground, half expecting the cobblestones to cave open beneath her.

The shadow of the military tribunal engulfed them, a behemoth of dull concrete and minuscule windows, as if whoever designed it didn't want anyone to see the sun. If she walked three blocks north and two east she'd be standing in front of the Company. Mr. Kaiser always hated the tribunal, complaining that no one wanted to see the monstrosity and be reminded of death and despair when they went to the ballet for beauty and joy. She studied the people walking down the sidewalks, searching for his stocky frame and that black cane. He could be hiding in the gaggle of ladies covering their faces with elaborate fans, or behind the priest shepherding a flock of children along the sidewalk.

Erwin stood at the iron gate surrounding the tribunal, talking to a spindly man with hair like a mole's wearing the MP jacket. The man kept straightening his shoulders as if he could stretch himself to Erwin's height. Didn't he say he wanted to get this over with? Grinding her teeth, she wandered to the row of shops across the street, their candy-colored awnings garish next to the tribunal. She needed a distraction.

A poster tacked to the door of the milliner's shop caught her attention. A ballerina stood caught in an arabesque, drawn as to appear if she stood on water, white feathery tulle encasing her tiny waist. The crown atop her head was enormous, the points so sharp they looked like icicles. It was probably so heavy the dancer couldn't keep her neck straight. Katrine squinted, trying to place the pale and simpering face. Irene. Irene danced as if someone had tied rocks to her ankles and couldn't suffer through exercises for ten minutes without complaining. Katrine scoffed, turning her back.

And there it was. The perfect distraction. In the window of the jewelry shop sat a dazzling necklace, tear-shaped rubies hanging from a row of square diamonds, resting on the slim neck of a mannequin. She crouched, face pressed to the glass, hands itching to feel the weight of the cool stones in her fingers. Cecily had worn something similar in The Crane Queen, but Katrine had been crestfallen when she found out those stones were only glass. Silver bracelets and earrings surrounded it, holding court to the royalty that was that necklace, perfection that must have fallen from the lap of the gods. Her eyes wandered to the little white tag dangling beneath it, nearly invisible—

"That'll put you back a year's salary," Levi said from behind her. "Even with your promotion." He was right. Her heart sank. So many zeroes!

She rose to her feet. "I'm just looking."

"Don't see the appeal. Makes you look like your neck's been sliced open."

"How do you drink so much tea if you don't have any taste?" she asked his reflection in the glass. It was growing harder to look him in the eye.

"I'll bet I can see the smear of drool you left on the window from the other side of the city."

"Levi! Katrine!" Miche waved them over. Levi stalked back to the tribunal. I should've gotten the last word, she thought as she followed.

Inside the tribunal was chilly, its ominous silence broken by the sounds of their footsteps echoing off the vaulted ceiling. Erwin led them down the hallway to a set of doors that looked as thick and solid as those of a coffin, too heavy to push her way out.

"No speaking unless directly addressed," he said. It seemed to be aimed at Levi, but he didn't react.

The doors swung open to an enormous yet nearly empty courtroom, with two men seated behind a table at the head. No chairs faced them, though. She'd have to stand through it the whole time, being evaluated like it was an audition.

"General Zackley, Finance Minister Bernstein." Erwin saluted, Katrine and the others following once they took their places behind him. If he'd made that face Levi had described before, she couldn't see it.

The man in the threadbare green military coat, presumably Zackley, seemed too coarse to sit behind a desk all day determining the fate of the three branches, with his weather-beaten face and unkempt beard. He tapped his pen against the desk to hurry them along. Katrine sniffed the air surreptitiously and stifled a cough when she caught it. Rotten eggs, indeed.

Bernstein was younger, slim in a well-fitted suit, but his crinkled eyes told her that he enjoyed his position of power. He definitely liked going over ledgers with a fine-tipped pen, marking mistakes and unnecessary expenses. He reminded her of the patrons backstage at the Company. Who could say he hadn't been there, hiding in a corner where she couldn't see?

Two men, plus Erwin, Miche, and Levi. Five of them. Bad odds.

"As you know, Commander Smith, the budget is significantly tighter this year due to the poor harvests in the south," Zackley said. "Unfortunately, as we've learned, barley does not grow well near Utopia."

"Yes, I'd heard."

"And, Commander Dok before you is insistent that the royal family, along with the ministers and their families, are in need of stronger protection. You remember, of course, that Minister Reiss and his family were cruelly attacked in their chapel by bandits."

"I agree, it was a tragedy, and the safety of the ministers and the royal family is paramount. But our goal to retake Wall Maria—"

"Yes, I'm aware, though I don't believe the situation has changed much from last year." A man who interrupted Erwin! Katrine wished she wasn't standing behind him so she could see his face.

The two continued to exchange fire, Erwin listing supplies that Zackley argued he didn't need, clipped tones competing for dominance. Without turning her head Katrine watched Miche and Levi standing to her right. Miche was about to fall asleep on his feet, and Levi's expression was inscrutable. He could have been glaring at Zackley, or Bernstein, or a cobweb in the corner.

Zackley waved a hand at them and Katrine braced herself. "I see you've brought your exhibits. Again."

"Yes, as you know, the success of the Survey Corps depends on its members—"

"I've met those two," Bernstein said, pointing to Miche and Levi, "but you're a new face." Katrine reached to touch her hair but stopped, squeezing her fingers.

"Katrine Casimir is the new captain of the cartography unit," Erwin said. "Prodigious memory. We estimate her assists at seventy."

"Seventy!" He laughed incredulously. "Forgive me. But I can't believe it. You're just so...delicate."

Her mouth opened, ready to say something to wipe that smug smile off his face, until a sharp pain at the back of her calf snapped it shut.

"Don't," Levi hissed.

Her face had twisted into something hideous. Marble, cold as marble. Levi was right, and she didn't want to embarrass Erwin, lest he bring up how she'd gotten that assist count.

"Uncommon, but certainly not unheard of," Zackley said. "Moving along—"

"Really!" Bernstein sounded utterly amused. "Look at you. Where'd you come from?"

She didn't answer, unsure if she was allowed to say anything, but Erwin turned with a pointed look. "Mitras." Her voice sounded tiny. She could feel all their eyes on her, insects landing on her skin she couldn't brush off.

"Oh! Curious, indeed. I would have assumed the boys would be lining up to marry you." Bernstein laughed again. Katrine smiled in return, not because it was funny but because a smile was the best first defense. "What was your name again? Casimir? Tell me your father's name, I don't recall a Casimir family—"

"It was my choice to join the Scouts. Nothing forced me." It was none of his business, but it was what he wanted to know, and he looked like a man used to getting what he wanted. Might as well skip over the unsavory bits.

"Odd choice. I'm guessing the youngest in a family full of girls, with nothing left for a dowry? You could've chosen another branch. Or the Sisters of the Walls."

"I wanted to do something to help everyone. Humanity, I mean."

"By that same logic, you could have married and had children. That's, say, six people gained as opposed to one disintegrating in the belly of a Titan. Eight if you're lucky. Simple mathematics."

"So we'd have more mouths to feed?" Zackley said. "With Wall Maria breached there's barely enough room to breathe as is. Stick to counting coins, Bernstein."

"Certainly, Minister Bernstein, but if Wall Maria were repaired and the territory recovered, then wouldn't that be the greatest good for a greater majority? Please forgive my ignorance, I'm certainly not smart enough to make the decisions." Katrine clasped her hands and lowered her head slightly. It was just like talking to the patrons backstage. It didn't matter what the subject was, you acted the same every time: like a tiny dog hanging off every word, ready to sit and stand on hind legs. Enamored and slightly stupid.

"Humor me, then."

"More room means more opportunities for successful harvests, and more harvests means happier people. And that, as we know, leads to more babies. I know little about economics, but that seems like simple mathematics to me."

Bernstein said nothing and she feared she'd overstepped, but he laughed, that same indulgent laugh that backstage meant she'd done something right and Mr. Kaiser wouldn't have a reason to corner her the next day. "You're charming. I hope you don't end up regretting this choice you've made. Erwin, wherever did you find this one?"

"Within the Walls, we have so few choices we can make," Katrine said before Erwin could respond. "Do you have a wife, Minister Bernstein?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Of course. I'm much too old for you."

"Please excuse my forwardness, Minister Bernstein!" She laughed, ignoring Levi's probing gaze and preparing for another kick to her calf. It might be helpful, to keep her from sliding back to the girl she was backstage. "But isn't it nicer that she had the choice, instead of being forced? She looked at all the boys lining up to marry her and picked you. Doesn't that make you feel special?"

His expression turned thoughtful. "I'll never forget those days. I had many opponents for her hand."

"I think people are happier when they have the freedom to make their own choices."

Bernstein leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. "That's a very optimistic sentiment, for someone who deals in death. Unfortunately, my son already has already made his own choice regarding marriage arrangements." He winked. She smiled, used to swallowing her revulsion.

"I apologize for the length of our conversation," Zackley said, throwing a surly look at Bernstein. "I'll take into account your requests along with the commanders of the other branches."

"I like their ideas," Bernstein said with a smile. His gums were too wide, lending him a mulish look. "Commander Smith, I'm hosting a dinner at my residence this evening. As usual, we're clamoring to hear your tales. I'll see you there?"

Beside her, Levi's exhale sounded choked. The same feeling twisted her stomach.

Erwin nodded. "We wouldn't miss it, Minister Bernstein."

"Splendid."

Every time Erwin dragged Levi to Mitras, because the misfortune of being Humanity's Greatest included standing as a marketing ploy, some moron decided to throw a party. No, wait, they had fancy words for shoving food down their gullets until they were forced to waddle home. Gala. Soiree. Fête. They sounded like cheeses, the kinds that were actually trussed-up mold. While the ministers and lords of Mitras liked to act like they had important jobs and so little time to do them, they jumped at any excuse to burn their money.

Mansions in Mitras all looked the same, big enough that five families could live inside and never see each other, with sprawling front yards enclosed by spiked gates to remind everyone outside of what they couldn't have. The parties were deafening, droning conversations and shrieks of laughter undercut by the idiot paid an exorbitant sum to bang on a piano. But the worst part was the smell. It was choking, cigar smoke and a hundred different types of perfume mixing with the crackling fat of meat piled onto the sagging table that they all couldn't possibly finish, which would be tossed out the next day for the dogs that ate better than Levi had for the first twenty years of his life. The first time he'd been shocked at the amount, trying to reconcile the sight with the memories of nights he'd gone to sleep with his stomach howling, and ate so much he nearly made himself sick. He knew better now, though the smell still made him nauseous.

These things were important, Erwin had said. Letting them see their taxes in the flesh, answering questions, building relationships. From what Levi could tell, that cocksucking meant a discount on meat, horse feed, or leather. But it was easy for Erwin, who remembered children's names and odd details like whose mother was ill and the impact of the cold snap on vineyards. He never left for the evening without a check or a snippet of gossip he couldn't use. The only way Levi knew how to cut a deal was after flashing a knife and twisting an arm. Once Erwin had tried to force Levi into a conversation, but it soon became obvious these people would rather pay Erwin to take him away than suffer through his glares and silences. They preferred to keep him at arm's length, a mountain lion that could kill in an instant, but caged. They still owned him. So all he could do was stand sentry near the hallway, watching the clock and rubbing at the smudge on a silver vase the servant had missed while polishing. Couldn't even get that right.

Erwin stood surrounded by a group of drooling suits led by Bernstein, appearing engrossed, but Levi knew his mind was elsewhere. He was certain Erwin could comprehend two different conversations at once. Katrine stood next to him, incomprehensible because of the vacant grin engulfing her face, occasionally splitting open into laughter. If not for the Scout uniform, he wouldn't have recognized her. She'd disappeared somewhere and was replaced by a marionette, someone hidden in the shadows controlling her movements, her arms rising and falling in some bastardized form of the dancing she did in the dead of night when no one was watching. But there was no ferocity, no determination, no life. The partygoers smiled back, men clapping her on the shoulder and women stroking her hair like she was a long-lost daughter, clucking behind manicured hands. Maybe with the scent of the food and the smoke, they couldn't smell the Underground on her. It must've been stronger on him, too foul to ignore.

Miche loped over, full glass of champagne in one hand and a half-eaten canapé in the other. "I don't know who spat in your tea, but I love these things." He swallowed, the sound like a fish thrashing in a puddle. "Free food, free booze, and after a few drinks the ladies love me. Can't keep 'em off me. Erwin's too distracted, and you…" He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.

"Waste of time," Levi muttered.

Miche shoved his glass into Levi's chest. "Just hold one, you'll look more natural."

"I don't want—"

But Miche had already stumbled off, and he was stuck holding a flute of bubbling liquid that stung his nose and made him cough. They called it an acquired taste, but did people just lounge around drinking it daily? Bathe in it? Some duke could have siphoned lantern fuel in a bottle, said it was wine aged a hundred years, and these people would lick it right up.

"You look miserable."

Levi looked up from the champagne and found Katrine leaning against the wall beside him, glass in her hand as well. Evidently, he hadn't seen her extract herself from the pit of leeches. "I'm having the time of my life."

"Fooled me. Maybe try smiling."

"And make them think half my brain leaked out my ears?"

"That's the trick." She waved a hand at the crowd. "Doesn't matter what they say. All you have to do is smile."

"I'll have to remember that. You did better with Bernstein than I did."

"Could've guessed that." She took a sip of her champagne. "What'd you do?" There was a stain at the edge of her glass, a red half-moon. He looked down at the carpet, a green and gold trellis pattern that made him dizzy.

"Pulled the same thing, said he didn't believe I could kill so many Titans. Told him I'd demonstrate right there if he'd like to volunteer."

Katrine giggled, covering her mouth with one hand. "What'd Erwin do?"

"Nothing then, just told me to shut up. But the whole week after he gave me this sad, disappointed look like I'd killed his childhood dog. And everything I said, he'd pause for a moment and sigh. Fucking awful. Promised I'd keep my mouth shut at those things if he stopped."

She was laughing now, waving a hand at her flushed face. It sounded genuine, not like how she'd acted with the others. "I didn't take him for the passive-aggressive type."

"Only if he knows it'll piss you off."

Katrine gestured with her glass at Bernstein. "He tore out a page of a book and told me to memorize it. Then he led me around like a show pony to recite it." She scoffed. "Waste of a perfectly good book. Though he did reward us with five cows from his farm. So next dinner, you can thank me."

"Marry his son and we'll get fifty."

That grin reappeared, a flash in his periphery. Her teeth glinted like sickles, lips dripping with blood as if she'd lunged forward and bitten a jugular. This was better. "I would eat his son for breakfast, right in front of him. With a glass of this lovely champagne he was so kind to provide."

Levi shifted his gaze from the carpet to the guests' too-long hemlines and their shoes. The man closest to him had a deep scratch on the side of his. Didn't they have five different people paid to buff that out? "Be useful and go find something else to memorize. Get me some of that nice tea from Yarckel. Carlisle and Sons."

Katrine didn't respond and he looked up. The color in her cheeks had disappeared along with her grin. All that remained was the same wide-eyed terror he'd seen back in that abandoned village and the little food he'd eaten thrashed in his stomach. There was the one he knew. Her empty glass and that red stain trembled. Levi turned to find the danger, eyes darting between shiny faces, but flinched when she slammed her flute down on the pedestal, glass ringing hollowly against the silver vase.

"What?" he asked.

"You drinking that?" She pointed to the champagne in his hand.

"No, I—"

She snatched it from him and drained it, twisting the empty glass in her hands. It only made her shaking more obvious.

Levi turned again and then he saw him. A man, tall and bald with an enormous beak of a nose, hovered over a circle of priests engaged in a raucous discussion on cassocks. But those hawk eyes were honed on her. Katrine glared at him with such venom he was surprised the man didn't disintegrate where he stood.

Undeterred, the man extracted himself from the group and inched toward them, brushing aside the others who tried to engage him in conversation. His face turned genial, a wet smile building at the corner of his lips, a dog sneaking in from the kennels to snatch a leg of mutton when no one was looking. Katrine pressed herself to the wall like she wanted to be swallowed by it. Suddenly Levi was ten years old again and Kenny was berating him because drills had gone poorly, knife pricking his chest and face inches from his, spittle flecking his forehead. For a moment, fear flickered in him, too.

"Did I tell you about the time," Levi began, his voice loud enough that the people nearest them turned, "when I killed so many Titans that one nearly drowned in the blood?"

Her gaze flicked to him, her confusion evident. "No?"

"Brutal. Face down in a steaming lake of blood. Sliding in guts." The group to their left grimaced like their food had turned rotten in their mouths. He raised his chin, daring them. "Their intestines look like ours, shit on a string. If they didn't dissolve so quickly, I'd try strangling one with them."

"Really?" She understood now. "I don't think they'd be strong enough," she said, her voice matching his. "It's not like you can strangle a human with their intestines."

"Believe me, you can." He turned, locking the man's gaze with his own. He stood still, bloodshot eyes quivering in their sockets. "Easier if they're taller. More to use." The man took a step back.

"I hope no one will make you angry enough to do that."

"Patience isn't my strong suit." Curiously, the empty space around them had doubled. Levi noticed Erwin had turned, a questioning look boring into him. Shit. He'd want an explanation later.

"You always have so many creative ideas."

"All my best ideas come to me when I'm standing atop a mountain of Titan corpses."

The man pushed back into the crowd. Levi watched his shiny bald head dart to the other side of the room and disappear into an alcove to hide for the rest of the night, if he knew what was good for him.

A choked exhale escaped from her throat. Her hands were still shaking, but probably from adrenaline rather than fear. His own heartbeat slowed, even though he knew there was nothing the man could do to him. Not that he was the target.

"Get out of here."

Katrine bit her lip. "I… It's nothing."

Levi nodded toward Erwin. "I'll tell him you drank six glasses and started puking."

She laughed weakly. "Thanks."

"Tried to stop you, but you love that pig piss."

She laughed again, but mirthlessly, and set the glass down next to the silver vase, pushed herself off the wall, and vanished out the doorway after peering around the corner. Her footsteps faded as she walked down the hallway at a clipped pace.

Levi turned back to the room, the wide berth still unfilled. Well enough, he didn't want to listen to conversations about children's governesses and the soaring price of indigo. Two glasses sat beside him, two red stains. Drops of blood, or embers from a flame. It was disconcerting, unignorable, his sword blade not clicking into the handle or the pianist hitting the wrong note.

Just irritated because it's dirty, Levi told himself, and returned to buffing away the smudge on the silver vase.

As soon as the footman opened the door Katrine ran, down the entrance steps and past thorny rose bushes until she was outside the spiked walls, and only then did she double over, gasping for breath.

This entire trip was stupid, pointless, maybe some horrible scheme by Erwin to get her to lay down like a good dog and remind her of what happened when she started thinking for herself. She'd expected the back of every head to be Mr. Kaiser's, every flash of black the swing of his cane. She'd followed orders, stood there and let them touch her like she was a figurine on Bernstein's table, but no one would come around the next day and wipe all the fingerprints off. Katrine forced herself to straighten and kicked at a pebble, sending it skittering down the sidewalk.

And Lord Julian! Even with jowls and liver spots, she'd never forget that face. When she imagined taking her swords to throats, his head was one of the ones that flew off. All the things she could have said, all the words she'd spent sleepless nights crafting, disintegrated and left her shaking and speechless. Pathetic!

Katrine turned left and jogged to the end of the street, the darkness broken by the other mansions' yellow windows. Belleville, the residential quarters. If she went down Madison Lane and continued west, then she'd eventually make it to the military tribunal and the cramped, musty room she'd been provided. Even if it smelled like old socks, it was better than here. Her pace quick, she scanned the streets for dark corners to avoid and her ears pricked for footsteps.

She wasn't sure why she'd gone over to Levi in the first place. It would've been better if she'd hidden under a chair in the powder room for the rest of the night. Maybe it was because he looked the way she wished she did backstage at the Company, deadly and unapproachable. But he was funnier than he let on, observant and clever. She would've liked to hear what he'd say if he'd been transported backstage with her at the Company. Maybe it had been the champagne, but when he made her laugh, the great swamp of Mitras shrank a little.

And then, Julian had ruined it. Or had he? Levi hadn't given him the chance to reveal the ugly things she'd done. He'd understood without her saying a word. How? Since when had there been more to him than just metal and vinegar? He was someone to keep around, better protection than an amulet or the mirror tucked into her waistband.

Absentmindedly she twisted her hair around her fingers. Part of her wanted to find some way to thank him, while the other wanted to ignore it and pretend nothing had happened. But every inch of her wished that she was back in that warm house standing beside him and ridiculing the guests, them against everyone else, close enough to see the dark blue of his eyes and the swell of muscle behind his jacket. And for some inexplicable reason she wanted to laugh, right in the middle of the empty street like a lunatic.

Focus, Katrine admonished herself with a quick shake of her head. Strong champagne.

She turned a corner and Belleville District spat her into downtown. The bars and hotels were alive, heat pouring out the windows and couples with linked arms stumbling and laughing. Katrine stepped back, searching for an empty street, and darted into the shadows. Drunk people meant questions and wandering hands. The alleyway smelled of vomit and she wrinkled her nose.

"Stop," a woman said, voice floating from the next street. "Not here."

Katrine froze.

"But you look so good tonight." A deeper voice. "Delectable."

"No!" A giggle followed, strange compared to the firmness of the refusal. "Remember who you're talking to."

"Remember what you promised earlier."

"W-wait!" Some shuffling, the slap of a hand. "Not here!"

Katrine threw herself around the corner. "Hey!"

The couple jumped and the man released the woman's arm, causing her to stumble. Katrine wished he'd kept it there so she'd have a reason to unleash her anger on him.

"The hell are you?" The man straightened and adjusted his vest. He appeared to be about her age, but he had the look of someone not used to being rebuked.

"Quit harassing her."

"It's none of your business!"

The woman put her gloved hand on the enormous fur hat perched atop her head, an odd choice given the slight chill in the air. "Please, Erik…"

He jabbed a finger at Katrine. "What's a Scout doing here? Don't you have better things to do? Why are you in Mitras and not out killing Titans?"

"Don't you think that if I can kill a Titan, I'd know how to dispose of you?" Stupid, leaving the knife behind!

Erik stepped back, reconsidering. His eyes darted to the woman, then back to Katrine, and then to the shadowy alley to his left. He ran.

"Wait!" the woman cried, but only his echoing footsteps answered.

"It's alright, ma'am, you're safe now," Katrine said, but the woman whirled on her with a snarl.

"What is wrong with you? You military idiots think a lover's quarrel is a declaration of war." Behind the layers of powder and thick eyeshadow, she couldn't have been older than eighteen.

"Excuse me, then. I was trying to help."

"You didn't," she sniffed. "Now who's going to escort me to my hotel?"

You can escort yourself, Katrine thought, just as she saw it resting on her collarbone. That necklace. Rubies and diamonds peeked out from behind her burgundy wool coat trimmed with ermine, winking at her. Her mouth watered. "I will. If you give me that necklace."

Her hand flew to her neck. "This?"

"Yes." She could almost feel the stones in her hand.

"Absolutely not! I just bought it today!"

Katrine shrugged. "Okay, then. I supposed I do have Titans to kill." She started to walk away.

"Fine! Next you'll say you want my earrings, too." With a petulant sigh, she unclasped the necklace and dropped it into Katrine's waiting hand. "I'm at the Ashford. Come on." Arms aloft, she picked her way through the cobblestones back onto the main road, balancing on tottering heels. Katrine bit back a triumphant grin and tucked the necklace in her breast pocket. It made a satisfying thump against her chest as she ran after her.

"I expect you to do something besides shout if a drunkard falls in my path," the woman said. "Well, what are you going to do with it? Sell it? It's real, I can assure you."

Katrine touched her pocket. "No."

"So you'll wear it to battle? Blood will ruin the stones."

"No, definitely not."

"Then why?"

She decided to be honest. "I just wanted it." It was hers, only hers, and no one else could touch it.

"Fair enough." The woman put a hand to her neck as if she were suddenly naked. Back on the main road, they swerved past carousers and some celebratory MPs. Katrine attracted a few odd looks thanks to her Scout jacket, but the woman didn't seem to notice. Thankfully, the Ashford Inn wasn't far.

"So, you're visiting, I assume? If you're at the Ashford," Katrine said.

"Yes."

"From where?"

"...Stohess," the woman answered, like she had to think hard to remember.

"What do you do?"

"I'm an opera singer."

"Ooh!" Katrine shook the woman's shoulder. "Sing something!"

"Absolutely not! What do you think I am, a pet bird?"

Katrine looked down. This woman might be like her, told to perform not for her own pleasure but for someone else's. For a moment she felt guilty for taking the necklace, but not enough to give it back.

The great red doors of the Ashford came into view and the woman sighed as they stopped before it. "I would thank you, but you did just rob me." She tilted back her head to look down her nose at Katrine. "I suppose the idea that you Scouts are the protectors of humanity is a lie."

"Not all of us are so terrible."

"For some reason, I don't believe that. Well, good night, then." She walked to the door, the doorman already having opened it, and swept inside without another look.

Katrine pulled the necklace out of her pocket and admired it. The stones were smooth and glittering with sharp edges, deep scarlet and clear ice. In her palm, it did look like a dripping gash, bone meeting blood. She liked the idea.

Carefully, she unclasped it and draped it around her neck, running her fingers across the stones and relishing the cold metal on her skin. It was all hers now, with no one to yank it off. Smiling, she set off for the tribunal.

The next morning Katrine sat alone in the carriage provided for their return, the first one there. Erwin was a liar. He definitely knew they'd be staying overnight, but it was pointless to say anything since he'd claim she'd misconstrued what he said. But it was finally over. The weight of the necklace was pleasant on her collarbones.

The carriage shifted and Miche appeared. "Heard that champagne wasn't so good going back up as it was going down," he said, throwing himself in the seat across from her. "Happens to the best of us. Bet that's a killer hangover."

"I'm fine."

Miche pitched forward, suspicious, and Katrine flattened herself against the cushion. "Where'd you get that?"

Her hand flew up to the necklace. "It was a gift."

"A gift? Who the hell gave you that?"

"Why are you both so damn loud this early in the morning?" Suddenly Levi was sitting next to Miche and Katrine quickly crossed her legs and folded her arms, compacting herself. How was he so damn quiet?

"This!" Miche's finger was almost touching the necklace. "This has to cost more than my mother's house!"

Levi's eyes were on her too and she remained perfectly still, knowing his gaze could scorch her if she moved. But his eyes widened, mouth opening slightly. Don't say anything about yesterday, she prayed. But say something.

Instead, he turned to Miche and crossed his arms, closing back up. "Where's your mother live? An outhouse?" She felt both relieved and disappointed.

Miche ignored that and sneered at Katrine. "Bernstein change his mind about his son? You taking him up on that?"

"Ew! No!"

"You should. We'd be set for life."

"Lay off," Levi said, resting his head on the back of the seat. "So loud."

"We'd have meat for dinner every night. Maybe even breakfast, too."

"You marry him," Katrine said. "If you want meat so badly."

"I don't seem to have your charm."

"I'll give you a hint, it's another word for 'tits.'"

Levi snorted. When they both turned, he cleared his throat like nothing had happened. Katrine and Miche exchanged a shocked look.

Erwin's large frame filled the carriage doorway. "You're all rather lively for the morning after." He turned to her. "Feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you."

He sat down beside her without another glance, but he'd seen it. She hoped he was imagining her shattering the jewelry store window with rocks, shoving rings into her pockets while the shopkeeper cowered under the counter. It was a warning never to take her to Mitras again.

"Went well, I think," Erwin said. "Despite your antics." He nodded at Levi.

He shrugged. "Place needed livening up."

"You ruined my bridge game," Miche complained. "The ladies got squeamish."

"Good. Probably saved you money."

The carriage started rolling toward the gate and Katrine's chest eased. The trip could've been worse, certainly if Levi wasn't there. As Miche continued to gripe and Erwin began scribbling down all the goods the ministers had promised him the night before, Katrine crinkled her eyes at him, a silent thank you. He rolled his in return.

She turned to look out the window, resting her chin in her hand to hide her tiny smile.