Once An Eve Novel

me into, the shoes with the gold clasps on their sides, the low bun my hair had been twisted into. I’d been in her presence for less than five minutes, but I could tell, with complete certainty, that she hated me.
    Charles stepped forward. “I was just about to ask Genevieve,” he said. “She hasn’t been yet, and it’s a novelty every new citizen should experience. I promise I’ll take you later.” He offered me his arm. Clara glared at me, her cheeks flushed.
    “I actually wanted to look at the greenhouse,” I said, pointing to the enclosed glass room on the other side of the conservatory, the lush flowers filling every inch of it.
    “Charles can go with you,” the King said, urging me toward him.
    “I’d prefer to go alone,” I said, nodding to Charles in apology. His arm was still outstretched, waiting for me to take it.
    It took him a moment to recover, a low laugh escaping his lips. “Of course,” he looked at the group as he spoke. “You must be exhausted from the parade. Another time.” He studied me as though I were some exotic animal he’d never come in contact with before.
    The King opened his mouth to speak, but I turned and took off through the conservatory into the greenhouse, relieved when I was finally alone again. Outside the glass ceiling, the sky was already orange, the sun dipping behind the mountains. The reception would end soon. In a few short hours I’d be on my way to see Caleb, all of this—the Palace, the King, Clara, and Charles—receding behind me.
    Caleb is alive , I repeated to myself. That was all that mattered. I reached my hand to the top of my gown. The tiny square was still inside my dress, pressed against my heart.

seventeen
     
    WHEN I RETURNED TO THE SUITE, I GOT TO WORK, SEARCHING the closet for something discreet to wear. The hangers were heavy with silk dresses, fur jackets, and petal-pink nightgowns. I dug through the drawers below, settling on a black sweater and the one pair of jeans I’d been allowed, even though Beatrice had warned me not to wear them outside of my room. I stepped out of the gown, finally able to breathe.
    I unfolded the tiny paper map, one side printed with directions, the other with the note from Caleb. He said he had a contact in the Palace, someone who’d left a bag for me on the seventh floor staircase. If I could get out, I’d travel ten minutes off the main strip, to the building he’d marked with an X .
    If I could get out.
    It was a foolish idea. I knew that. I buttoned my jeans, slipped on my socks and shoes, and fastened my hair back. I arranged the pillows and duvet to look as though it contained a sleeping body. It was foolish to think I could get out of the Palace unnoticed, that I could find my way through the City. Because of the strict curfew—the streets were clear from ten at night until six in the morning, a rule the King had established to keep order—I’d be one of the only people on the sidewalks. If anyone followed me, I’d lead them right to Caleb.
    But as I crept toward the door, listening for any sound in the hall, I couldn’t think of doing anything else. He was here. Only a few streets separated us. I had let him go once, and I wouldn’t do it again.
    I lifted the metal cover of the keypad on the wall. The code started with 1-1, I knew that much. Those were the easiest numbers to catch. I’d thought I’d seen a 3 and another 1 at the end, but it was hard to know for sure; Beatrice’s fingers always moved so quickly whenever she was coming and going. I pressed my ear to the door. I couldn’t hear anything. She was probably down the hall now, dropping empty glasses in the sink as she spoke to Tessa, the cook. Still, my hands shook as I entered the 1, then another 1, a 2, an 8, and finally the 3 and 1 at the end.
    It beeped twice. I tried the door but it was locked. I rested my forehead on the wall, desperately trying to remember. It could’ve been a 7, not an 8, that I’d seen. It could’ve been a 2, not a 3. It could’ve been anything.
    Numbers, combinations, codes ran through my head. Then I had a sudden flash of the King at the podium, before Stark had received his medal. We’ve made tremendous progress , he’d said, Since the day the first citizens arrived here, January first, two thousand and thirty-one .
    Before I could second-guess myself, I punched in those six numbers: 1-1-2-0-3-1. Nothing happened. The lock didn’t beep. The metal lid fell shut. I turned the knob and for