Revolution (Replica) (39 page)

“Thank you.”

“Now that that’s over with, shall we talk about the elephant in the room?”

Nate blinked, not used to Agnes being so direct. But he should have known she would guess why he had come by to talk to her.

“Have you already spoken with my father?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. Obviously I’ll have to if you say yes, but you’re a legal adult now, and you can make your own decision. As you and Nadia both pointed out to me, I wasn’t such a prize catch before, and I’m even less of one now. But even though you never signed any paperwork, I’m willing to honor our fathers’ agreement if you still think it’s a good match.”

The words weren’t easy for him, and his pulse quickened with the first hints of panic. Not at the prospect of marrying Agnes, but of marrying
anyone.
His heart belonged to Kurt, and it always would. And though he’d been through a lot of changes recently and had finally come to accept the responsibilities that were his by birth, there was no way he was giving Kurt up. Which was not going to make for much of a happily ever after in the marriage department. However, a marriage of state was a business transaction, not a romance, and at least Agnes was someone he knew—and who already knew about his relationship with Kurt.

Not that there was any guarantee Chairman Belinski still wanted this arrangement. Marrying into Paxco in its current situation might be more of a gamble than Synchrony was willing to take, and it was possible Agnes could do considerably better.

Agnes peered closely at his face. “Is that what
you
want?”

“This isn’t about me. It’s about you.”

Her smile held a tinge of irony. “We’re talking about a marriage of state. It isn’t about either one of us.”

He let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. “True. But we are the ones who would have to live with each other.” And produce an heir. The very thought of it made him shudder. Not because sex with a girl was completely repugnant to him—he’d managed it a couple of times in an effort to camouflage his true nature—but because of what it would inevitably do to his relationship with Kurt. But he was getting way ahead of himself.

“Well, my answer would be the same either way,” Agnes said. “I suspect my father would be happy to stick to the agreement. Paxco may be in turmoil, but one way or another it will recover, and if you and I marry, the next Chairman of Paxco will be my dad’s grandchild. That’s a pretty good deal.”

“So it’s on then?”

To his surprise, Agnes shook her head. “No. Believe me, it’s nothing personal. And I haven’t talked this over with my father yet, so I’d appreciate it if you don’t say anything to him until I have a chance to.”

Nate wasn’t sure how he felt about the rejection—other than confused. “May I ask why not?”

Agnes licked her lips. “Because as you said, I’m a legal adult now, and I can make my own decisions. I like you, and after everything we’ve been through, I’ll always consider you my friend. But I’m in love with Evan, and he’s the one I want to be with.”

“Evan?” Nate asked, wondering if Agnes’s concussion was more severe than he’d realized. “Who the hell is Evan?”

She grinned at him. “You know him as Shrimp.”

Nate opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.

Shrimp? Really?

“When the doctors clear me, I’m going to join him in the Basement,” Agnes said with quiet certainty. “We were constantly in danger, with the future looking so horribly grim it was hard to think about it, and yet I was happier there than I’d ever been in my life. No parties, no media, no gossip, no public speaking.” She sighed wistfully. “I don’t want my old life back.”

Nate still didn’t know what to say. It was true that Agnes had seemed more relaxed, more comfortable in her own skin, when they’d been in the Basement. And it had been impossible to miss the connection between her and Shrimp. But Nate had thought it was no more than a harmless flirtation. The scandal that would arise when the media found out was unthinkable.

“Your father’s never going to let you do that,” he finally said.

“Legal adult here. He can’t stop me. Not if I don’t care about not having any money.”

It was true that withholding family funds was the most popular way for Executives to curb dependents who tried to stage rebellions. Now that Agnes was eighteen, Belinski would have no legal right to forbid her to do whatever she wanted.

“I know it will cause a big scandal,” she continued, “and my father will be furious, at least at first. But in the Basement, I’ll be out of the media’s reach, so there’s only so long they’ll be able to keep the story going.”

“Keep in mind that Shrimp’s home and everything he owned went down with the red tower. If you go back to the Basement, it won’t be to the comfortable apartment we spent time in.”

“And the place is completely devastated,” Agnes agreed. “Mostly ruins, with we don’t yet know how many dead. It’ll need a lot of rebuilding. I can help with that. I have an idea what I’ll be facing thanks to the time we spent with Bishop. And I still think my life there will be better than my life here.”

Nate felt humbled by her courage and conviction. Would
he
have had the courage to reject everything that was familiar and comfortable about his life, to throw himself into danger and deprivation for the sake of love? He honestly didn’t know.

“If you and Shrimp ever need anything, you can call me,” he said. “I’m doing a pretty good hatchet job on my personal funds already, but I owe you—
Paxco
owes you—more than we can ever repay. I’m going to do everything I can to make the Basement a better place when we rebuild it. And I suspect I won’t be getting a whole lot of marriage offers in the near future, so if you change your mind, let me know. Odds are I’ll still be available.”

Agnes smiled and patted his hand. “Thank you. If I did have to do the whole marriage of state thing, you’d be an excellent choice. You are officially no longer a dickhead.”

Nate couldn’t do anything but laugh.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Nate
collapsed into bed, facedown and fully clothed, too tired and stressed and frustrated to bother with formalities like undressing or brushing his teeth, or even getting under the covers. Kurt, who had followed him into the bedroom, sat down on the edge of the bed and started prying off one of Nate’s shoes. Nate mustered as much energy as he could find to jerk his foot out of reach.

“Stop it,” he protested. “You’re not really my valet, and I’ll take off my own damn shoes in my own damn time.”

With the level of hostility Nate was already facing from the public, he hadn’t dared make his relationship with Kurt known, so he’d once again hired him on as a valet so they could have private time together. But just because he had to pretend to the outside world that Kurt was his servant didn’t mean he would treat him as such, at least not in private.

“Another tough day at the office?” Kurt asked, unruffled by Nate’s snappishness. He grabbed Nate’s leg again. “I’ll sit on you if I have to, so hold still.”

Nate groaned but didn’t have the energy to fight off Kurt’s second attempt to remove his shoes.

“Wanna tell me about it?” Kurt asked, tossing first one shoe aside, then the other.

Nate turned over onto his back so he could see Kurt’s face, needing to look into a pair of sympathetic eyes. All day, he’d been faced with anger, and stubbornness, and condescension—even downright hatred—and he’d been fighting to keep himself contained, to project an aura of competence and control.

“I’m in over my head,” he admitted, though in truth that was the least of his problems. “I don’t know how to be Chairman even under
good
circumstances.” Because he’d been the world’s shittiest Chairman Heir, spending all his time and energy on petty rebellion and having fun instead of learning how to govern.

“Give it time,” Kurt said, patting his leg absently.

“I
have
been giving it time!”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “What has it been? Ten days? I think it takes longer than that to learn to be Chairman.”

Nate sighed and closed his eyes. It was true that ten days wasn’t a lot of time, but as each of those days had passed, Nate had become more and more certain that he was not the right person to lead Paxco out of these dark times. And it wasn’t just because of the learning curve, either.

“You’ve seen the news,” Nate said. “The protests. The calls for my resignation. Or arrest. Or execution.”

Nate wanted to tell Kurt the whole truth—that an attempt had been made on his life today, and that it hadn’t been the first—but that would only make Kurt worry. Nate was already doing enough worrying for both of them. Two attempts in ten days was not a good sign, and if someone
competent
were to try it …

The bed dipped under Kurt’s weight and he dragged Nate into his arms. Nate settled there with a sigh of relief.

“They hate me, Kurt. The public, the press—even the board members.” The board had accepted him as Chairman in the immediate aftermath of Thea’s death, but since then they’d been fighting him tooth and claw over every insignificant little decision. It wasn’t completely unexpected, considering their first priority was to restore the status quo and Nate had no intention of letting that happen. And he was still legally underage, so he didn’t yet have the full powers of the Chairmanship, which meant he couldn’t throw his weight around like his father had. But what really bothered him was the way the board members eyed him with undisguised distrust and suspicion, as if he might turn out to be a maniacal robot taking orders from Thea after all.

Kurt snorted. “Don’t those assholes know they’d all be dead if it weren’t for you?”

It was true that if Nate and Nadia hadn’t stepped in—and hadn’t made their agreement with Belinski—Thea would no doubt have killed and replaced the entire board over time, but … “Somehow, Nadia seems to get all the credit for that,” Nate said, hoping he didn’t sound bitter or jealous. He didn’t begrudge her the praise, or her growing reputation as a hero. She had, after all, been the one who had actually succeeded in calling for the missile strike at great personal risk. And once she was reunited with Dante and the surviving Basement-dwellers finally agreed to lay down their arms, she had spearheaded relief efforts that strengthened her public image even more. She deserved every ounce of the love she was getting.

Kurt hugged him tighter. “They’re scared of you right now,” he said gently. “Gun-shy because of Dorothy. They’ll get used to you.”

That’s what Nate had been telling himself, and maybe Kurt was right and he wasn’t giving it enough time, but deep in his gut he feared the people of Paxco would never accept him. And it didn’t look like the rest of the Corporate States were too eager to accept him, either. Not all of the scathing opinions he’d heard voiced had been from Paxco citizens, and there were several formerly allied states who were now refusing to trade with Paxco as long as their Chairman was a Replica.

“I don’t think they will, Kurt,” he said, feeling like he was being crushed under the weight of all that fear and hatred. “I’m afraid that Paxco will never be able to heal as long as I’m at the helm.”

Kurt cupped Nate’s face in one hand and leaned over to kiss him, the warmth of his lips enough to thaw a little of the ice in Nate’s heart. Nate expected another pep talk, but Kurt surprised him, as he had a way of doing on a regular basis.

“So what’s the alternative?”

“Huh?” Nate asked, his mind sluggish beneath the burdens he’d been dragging around.

“If you stepped down as Chairman, who’d take your place? Is it someone you think could fix the mess?”

Nate frowned, thinking about it for the first time. Since he didn’t have kids, his heir would be whoever was his closest living relative on his father’s side. He had a bunch of cousins scattered around Paxco, but they weren’t first cousins, and he had no idea who his legal heir would be. He said as much to Kurt.

“Maybe you should look into it. See who’s next in line.”

Nate propped himself on one elbow and frowned at his boyfriend. “You
want
me to step down?” Kurt had been politically active enough that he’d been a member of the resistance movement. He was currently in prime position to influence Paxco’s future by influencing Nate. It was more power than any Basement-born revolutionary could possibly hope to attain. And if Nate stepped down, he would lose it all.

“I want you to be happy,” Kurt said. “I’d love to see you take control of Paxco and make it a better place. But not if it makes you miserable.”

Nate’s heart felt about three sizes too big for his chest. “That means a lot to me.”

“So find out who would be Chairman if you stepped down. Chances are it’ll be someone you can’t stomach leaving in charge, but you can’t be sure until you check.”

“I’ll get right on it,” Nate promised.

“
Right
on it?” Kurt asked with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “As in right this second?”

Nate smiled and was happy to discover that he could muster a little energy after all.

*   *   *

Nadia
snuggled contentedly into Dante’s arms. Her nose was sunburned and her hands were roughened with calluses thanks to the work she’d been doing in the Basement. Not that it was anything dangerous or even particularly strenuous in comparison to what most of the aid workers were doing, but she spent a lot of time darting from tent to tent in the staging area, helping open and label boxes of food and clothing for the refugees left homeless by the bombing.

Dante’s work was more brutal as he helped with the massive effort to clean up the wreckage, an effort that would take months, if not years, to complete. He promised her he was being careful with his left arm, which was still in a splint, so she tried not to worry. His face was peeling and his hands were a mess, dirt embedded so deep under his fingernails he couldn’t get it out, but she didn’t mind at all having those rough hands skimming over her body.

Dante bent to kiss her, and Nadia’s heart fluttered pleasantly. She had shed the last vestiges of Executive constraint, and she didn’t care who in her household knew that she was dating an Employee. If someone wanted to sell the story to the tabloids, she could live with the scandal. If Agnes was willing to leave the traditions of Executive society behind, then so was Nadia.