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Iris~~

When I exit the bathroom, a towel wrapped around me, I find an all-black outfit lying on my freshly made-up bed. Once Jonas told me Gwen would be bringing me clothes for the daytrip we're taking, I made it myself despite the Society's staff who come by every day to make it. The shorts are made from the same material as slacks. The shirt she selected is a tank made of an equally nice fabric. She's included a blazer as well. I'm not comfortable whenever my bandage is on display to the Society, even though it's been over a month since they learned the truth and almost two weeks since Erik and Vienna were exported.

I can't deny that the outfit reminds me of a funeral. But if all black is going to be the look for the day, I had better make sure my shoes keep to the color scheme because maybe this is a funeral. I haven't heard of any recent deaths, but perhaps Jonas had a pet frog no one knew about that died.

I finish drying off and change, using the remainder of my time before Jonas will arrive to do a light layer of makeup.

I haven't heard anything about Erik or Vienna. Colton has been moping every time I see him. I reach for a makeup brush. I don't fault him for it or think it's wrong. It's just odd. I'm used to brooding Colton, but sad Colton is an entirely different matter. I didn't think it possible to feel bad for him, but—I swipe my brush through the blush palette—here I am.

As I'm sliding on my shoes, Jonas knocks on the door, and when I open it, he offers me a soft smile and holds up a plate of brookies—chocolate chip blondies and brownies baked together. "For the road," he says.

I kind of want one now. "Amra, Jonas."

His soft smile turns into a grin.

"Amra." Amorian for hello. Jonas has been busy with his duties as Preeminence, but we've managed to continue my Amorian lessons, usually at night though. We don't focus as much on French as we did, and when we do, it's about retention rather than learning new content. That was my request. I want him to know I'm serious about giving him and me a chance.

He's also dressed all in black. He's in his normal black slacks he wears most days when he's working. But now he wears a button up shirt and a blazer in the same color.

"What is the occasion?"

"That's part of the surprise."

"Is the surprise that someone died?" I ask as I shut and lock my door behind me.

"Not recently, no."

I eye him. "Comforting."

*****

The car ride takes us into Maryland, and I wonder if we're going to Baltimore because maybe he wants to see where I lived. What would he—the Preeminence of Elleany think of my old apartment that was falling apart at the seams? I don't think he'd knowingly judge me but what about on a subconscious level? What if he starts viewing me differently without realizing he's doing it?

What if he pities me?

I worked hard to keep a roof over my head after the Society burned down my home. The roof may have been moldy and stained, but I was at least proud that I could afford it.

I look at him. I mean, really look at him long enough to the point it's probably creepy as I attempt to sort out what he would do. He flicks his eyes toward me and offers me a smile before turning his eyes back to the road.

I don't know if he's the type to pity. It's probably been ingrained in him to find the best in any situation to help him with diplomacy.

"Are we going to Baltimore?"

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