Page 26 of Nocturn

“What is happening?” I muttered, huffing out a breath. Both remained tense, but as soon as I spoke, they relaxed.

“We’re with the Resistance⁠—”

“Straight to our biggest secret, I see,” Liadan muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as he plopped on the edge of the bed.

She leaned closer to my face.

“For annums, the redbloods’ population has diminished exponentially. Do you ever wonder why you must have the mandated annum injections?”

“Because we carry viruses that are deadly to bluebloods . . .” The last half of my phrase wilted into a question.

“Or how all redbloods must be logged into the Registry? Where they have to all be assigned to a blueblood family?” She did not stop.

“I-I know this, but redbloods worked with Hollows. We caused them⁠—”

“Who said?”

I opened and closed my mouth, struggling to say, “The Kingdom?”

She jerked her head down in a sharp nod. “Everyone turns a blind eye. But all of this hatred, the caste system created, was purposeful.”

“But why?” The corners of her mouth twitched. “Miss Blane⁠—”

“Call me Renata.”

“I do not understand any of this,” I blurted. “None of it makes sense.”

“Everything we know of history is twisted to turn society against redbloods. The Great Extermination specifically targeted redbloods to kill as many as they could get away with and put the rest into camps where they are registered.”

I floundered for what to say. I had no knowledge of these camps, but if this was true, it was horrifying. My thoughts raced to make sense of her words. They sounded like fables. “Why?” I blurted again.

Renata expelled a heavy breath. “That I do not know. It is what I hope you can help us to discover.”

“We dinnae have time to give her the entire backstory,” Liadan huffed, shaking his head. A slight accent curved his words upward. A dialect I had never heard until now.

“Your speech . . .” I trailed off.

“He’s from Eastern Oro.”

I had only stories of the other realms beyond Sycarious. He must be suppressing his accent purposely.

“You are a long way from home.” From every story told, it was impossible to reach other territories. Liadan’s mouth pinched. “Wait. If you’re from Oro, you crossed the Barren,” I whispered, grabbing Liadan’s arm.

A pathway formed in my head. A way out.

Liadan’s arm flexed, and my eyes dropped.

I quickly dragged them back up, releasing him and backing up until I was on the other side of the bedpost where I had been standing.

“Can you, um, cover that up?” I said, face hot.

He snorted and grabbed the edge of the bedding, pulling it around himself. “I barely survived, but yes, I crossed the Barren.”

Barely surviving was better than ‘most definitively not surviving.’

“And what is this Resistance? What do you need from me?”

“You have what we have been desperately trying to access: the House of Lords,” Renata replied.