Dragon Protocol: The Eden Project

By Ali Archer

In Dragon Protocol, colonists making contact with an alien world quickly learn that it’s what they brought with them, not what they find, that poses the greatest threat. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Oct 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9781631958694

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Dragon Protocol

NEW YORK

LONDON • NASHVILLE • MELBOURNE • VANCOUVER

Dragon Protocol

The Eden Project

© 2023 Ali Archer

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other—except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Published in New York, New York, by Morgan James Publishing. Morgan James is a trademark of Morgan James, LLC. www.MorganJamesPublishing.com

Proudly distributed by Ingram Publisher Services.

Publisher’s Note: Th is novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental.

Morgan James is a proud partner of Habitat for Humanity Peninsula and Greater Williamsburg. Partners in building since 2006.

Get involved today! Visit MorganJamesPublishing.com/giving-back

ALSO BY AUTHOR ALI ARCHER

The Desolation Series

Become

Desolate

Destined

Desolation Diaries vol. 1

Minnie Kim: Vampire Girl

First Kisses Suck

Deadly Sweethearts

Seoul Demon

Blood Moon

Den of Death

Knights of Myth and Magic

The Lady and the Vampire

The Lady and the Grey Guard

The Lady and the Devil

To everyone who ever wished that dragons were real and could become your best friend—if only you had the chance to meet one. And if dragons aren’t your thing, there’s a love story just for you.

We Pilgrims embark this day in search of a New Eden. A world free of hatred and prejudice; a world of true freedom and equality. Our journey may be long, but for posterity’s sake, we shall strive for excellence. Excellence in goodness, faith, and hope. Excellence in righteousness.

Let there not be color nor race, neither gender nor judgement between us. Let us be One—of one mind and one heart.

Let us be Zion.

Signed this day, 20 July 2306

Andre & Marilyn Thomas—Eden I Prem’yera

Yǒng & Mǐn Chen—Eden II Commandant

Yulian & Evdokiya Morozov—Eden III Commandant

Adil & Gamila Dawoud—Eden IV Commandant

Samuel & Vega González—Eden V Commandant

PART

ONE

CHAPTER ONE

WYLIE

I am nothing. No one. Is that all I will ever be? Can actions ever truly replace the stigma of your birth?

That’s what kept me awake all night—that today would prove I shouldn’t have been born. That I don’t have any worth. Because despite what my teachers and the Prem’yera had told us all my life, being assigned the lowest caste and serving in the bowels of the ship for generations didn’t quite feel like a glorious calling. It kind of felt like crap.

My friend Birch’s parents told stories they’d heard from their parents about a time when there were no castes and everyone in the colony rotated in service, letting everyone evolve and discover ways to contribute to society. But long ago, there’d been a coup. The way Birch’s parents told it, it was more like a rebellion from above. Everyone was forced into castes that dictated where they’d live and work. Syn guards were posted on every floor, and only the highest castes could make any kind of difference. According to Birch, it had been a long time since anything had changed for the better in the lowest castes.

But I still had hope. I couldn’t help it. Because even being abandoned at birth and raised by a syn named Amondy—who was sufficient and practical—couldn’t change my human audacity to hope. Hope that I’d be chosen to rise out of obscurity into a role that mattered. Hope that I would be seen and acknowledged. Hope that, after all the proof to the contrary, things could still change for the better.

That I could make things change.

I worked hard my whole life to bring about that change. I tried to be a good person, serve others, learn, study, and develop myself into what the ideal citizen should be. I believed in the Eden Project’s mission to create a new Eden, where we could do things better than our ancestors back on Earth had done. But how could I do that from Shudra caste?

I suppose cleaning the engines, or scrubbing toilets until they shone, helped our ship and community run well, but how did that help me reach my potential as a child of God? I was good at talking to people, discerning their needs, and finding solutions to help them, but I’d need to be in a higher caste than Shudra to use those gifts. At least, to make a difference.

Sometimes, though, a person could be promoted to a higher caste. The ship watched over us all our lives, with cameras and syns everywhere, recording almost all of our interactions with each other. If we proved ourselves to be upstanding citizens worthy of advancement and our final educational scores supported it, our whole lives could change.

It seemed like I’d spent every minute of every day working toward that goal, and today’s graduation would prove if my efforts would be rewarded the way I hoped.

If they weren’t, well, I guess I’d find out how strong I was because it would take a lot of strength to remain unseen and unheard.

Another of Birch’s tales says that androids were created to do the ship’s grunt work, but during the Realignment, they were given authority over us.

A little breathless, I picked at a few curls stuck to my forehead and knocked on Amondy’s office door. Despite having spent time with Birch’s parents, I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a mother. Someone who cared and was . . . well, maternal.

Amondy looked like a high-class syn—almost like she was one of those Servants the Prem’yera had—but her only understanding of the word servant was in how it applied to me and the other children in the center.

She was tall and slender, with a vaguely female form. Despite our colony’s mission to eradicate race, I’d always wondered why the syns all had pearlescent white skin. With their perfectly crafted appearance, they looked more godly than human— including the Prem’yera.

Amondy’s sleek dark hair, cut in a soft bob that fell to her shoulders, made her skin and silver eyes seem even more ethereal. Maybe if she ever smiled, she’d be beautiful, but she looked like a walking, talking statue.

Come, she said in her deceptively warm voice.

Mother Amondy? I stepped into the office and bowed at the waist, my palms pressed together in front of my chest—the most reverent bow I could give short of lying prostrate on the floor.

I felt her gaze on me, but she let me stay like that for way longer than she had to. She knew what today was, so it wasn’t really a surprise that she’d be extra annoying.

When she didn’t permit me to straighten or say anything at all, I said, I’ve finished my chores. May I please get ready for the ceremony now?

Oh, she drawled. Is that tonight?

I gritted my teeth and forced back all the ways I wanted to respond. Yes, Mother.

Well, then. What are you doing wasting time here? If you are late, you’ll be cast down regardless of your scores.

I slowly jerked upward, unsure if I had permission to stand. Her words had drained the excitement out of me and left me with a foreboding I didn’t want to acknowledge.

When I lifted my eyes to hers, she was watching me, her lips twisted into a cruel approximation of a smile. What? she said with the raise of a mocking brow. You didn’t think they’d reward tardiness, did you?

No, Mother, I said in a rush. Of course not. Still, she hadn’t exactly given me permission to go, and I did not want to get on her bad side. Not tonight of all nights. If she thought I was being precocious, she could detain me. Not showing up to the ceremony wouldn’t—or at least, it shouldn’t—change my assignment, but I might never have another opportunity to dine on the Kshatriya level with the Prem’yera themselves.

Well, don’t stand there gawking. Go. She dismissed me with a flick of her wrist and swiveled in her chair until her back was to me. Only then did I turn and run—away from her thoughtless judgment and toward a future I hoped would take me anywhere away from here.

After showering, I pulled on a set of freshly laundered clothes. Everyone on ship wore the same basic outfit: a long-sleeved tunic and pants made of a comfortable, stretchy material. The color we wore represented our caste: green for Shudra, blue for Vaishya, purple for Brahmin, and red for Kshatriya. Our Prem’yera and their family could wear whatever color they wished, but most often, they wore black since black represented all of the colors.

Students wore white to symbolize a clean slate because anything was possible for us, no matter what caste we came from. I was counting on that possibility.

My dream, the hope of my whole life, was to wear the red of the Kshatriya. I knew what it was like to be the lowest of the low, which is why I believed I would make a good leader. I wouldn’t forget the Shudra or Vaishya, like so many government officials did. I could do some good in Brahmin caste too. I could be a teacher like Proctor Alán.

I straightened my tunic, then faced the mirror. It remained a wild and unruly mess, no matter how carefully I styled it. Amondy had forced me to wear it short until I begged her and promised I would care for it myself. Now, I couldn’t decide if I kept it long because I liked it or to spite her.

Either way, this would be the last time I’d see Finn—or rather, the last time he’d see me—and I wanted to look as good as I could. It was a silly thing to worry about, but I was going to miss him, and I wanted him to remember me well.

At least I knew Finn would make a difference in our lives. No matter what happened to me, Finn would one day be our leader, and he’d be the best we’ve ever had. Even though he’d be Prem’yera one day, he never acted like he was better than the lower castes.

Out on the concourse, Birch fell into step beside me. He threw a casual arm over my shoulder as he flashed me a brilliant smile. I can’t believe the day’s finally come. I’m gonna miss you like crazy, but I’m thrilled to be starting my life, ya know?

He tugged me awkwardly to him while he spoke until he had me in a headlock. Laughing in both frustration and amusement, I shifted my weight, forcing him off balance until he let me go. I couldn’t remember a time when we weren’t friends, and after a brief and completely awkward romance last year, we’d settled into what came to us best: annoying each other.

I think his parents might have hoped we would partner one day, but even they realized that Birch and I were more like brother and sister. Friends, and that was all.

My folks keep telling me not to be disappointed if my placement isn’t what I want it to be, but that’s so typical of them. Just because they’re Shudra, doesn’t mean I am. I’ll be Kshatriya for sure—or at least Brahmin. Birch was a few inches taller than my five-foot-five-inch frame, with hair and skin the same color as mine, but where my hair fell in ringlets, his was straight; where my eyes were gray, his were as dark as his hair. Really, it was a shame there wasn’t anything between us because there was no doubt he was handsome.

I sighed, not really surprised but a little disappointed that, even on graduation day, he couldn’t stop complaining. I don’t know when it had started, but it had been going on for at least the last two years. All he could talk about was everything that was wrong with our society and how he wouldn’t be as complacent as his parents were.

Your mom and dad only want you to be happy. There’s nothing wrong with expecting the worst so you can be happy with anything better than that. Since I’d often repeated the same response, my heart wasn’t in it. I was busy watching the other students and their parents as they came out of their apartments. It took me a moment to realize Birch had stopped walking. What?

He shot me a glance, his almond-shaped eyes narrowed, his face slack in disbelief. You can’t be serious. I thought you’d gotten over that kind of thinking. That’s what keeps you mediocre. If you never hope for anything better, you’ll never know just how far you can go.

He didn’t mean to hurt me—and his words didn’t—but I gave up long ago trying to explain myself to him. When he was worked up about something, he only ever listened to himself.

I hope you get exactly what you wish for, Birch. I smiled and snaked my arm around his waist, tugging a little to unbalance him.

Hey. He jerked away. Quit trying to manage me.

I offered him a cocky grin before breaking into a run. If you’re so special, beat me! I called over my shoulder.

Cheater! he shouted before the pounding of his feet boomed behind me.

I laughed and ran faster, knowing that with the little extra lead I gave myself, I’d easily beat him to the lift. When I did, he shouted some sort of complaint—probably worried I’d ride to the Kshatriya level without him.

That was rude, he said when he reached me a few seconds later.

I shrugged and hit the red button for the Kshatriya level. As I looked through the glass walls, I marveled at how much there was to discover on Eden I. I’d seen a little of each level as part of my studies, but I longed to wander. To explore. Maybe someday, I would see everything. Hopefully someday soon.

CHAPTER TWO

WYLIE

He’s going to choose Laila, you know, Birch said quietly.

His statement didn’t surprise me. For the last few months, he’d talked about three things: how easy he found our final examinations, what caste and position he’d be assigned, and Finn’s choice of life partner.

Several responses rolled through my mind, but I ended up only saying, Probably.

It’s human nature. We always want what we can’t have. He leaned one shoulder against the glass, arms folded as he watched me.

I huffed out a breath and mirrored him. I don’t know why you always say that. Everyone knows Finn will bond with Laila. There’s no mystery. Laila—with the sleek hair and perfectly proportioned body—was Kshatriya, and had basically been pledged to Finn from the womb. In the olden days, the Prem’yera’s children would choose partners from one of the other ships, but somehow, Finn ended up without a likely counterpart elsewhere. His parents were older when they had him, and he’d fallen out of sync with the other Prem’yera’s children. So unless he wanted to wait— something like fifteen years—to marry a girl from Eden II, who would then only be eighteen, Finn would have to marry someone outside his caste.

So Laila it was.

Birch hung his head for a moment but not long enough for me to come up with something to distract him. There was a bright intensity in his eyes when his gaze met mine. I’ve always known you loved him, even though you were so careful to never let it show. But I know you. You can’t hide anything from me. He nudged my foot with his. Don’t worry. You hid it well. I doubt even Finn knows.

He knows, I thought, remembering the strange conversation I’d had with him yesterday.

—

I’d been the first to arrive in our exam room and had just engaged my desk for some last-minute cramming when he’d spoken from the door.

Hey, Wy.

I looked up and his bright blue gaze held mine as he walked toward me. He leaned against the desk beside mine, his rare smile showing off the dimple in his right cheek. I couldn’t help but smile back.

At least I didn’t give away the way my heart leaped into my throat at the sight of him—I hope. When we were younger, before I truly understood what it meant to be the Dì èr—our prince, destined to one day lead the people—I believed Finn and I would be partners. But it was just a silly fantasy. Of course, he would never choose such a low-born girl as me. Except, as time went on, I felt that if he could, he would. It was that knowing that made it hurt more.

Every boy and girl within a couple of years of us fawned over him, hoping to be his partner one day. Even though I wanted him to be mine, it wasn’t because of the throne but because he was my best friend. The only one who ever got me, even more than Birch. The one who made me feel safe and loved for who I was, not what. And maybe that’s why he liked me too. All the swoony attention from the others made him uncomfortable. As we grew up, and I realized the truth of Finn’s situation—and mine—I concentrated on being his friend. Even when it broke my heart.

Finn toed my foot with his, and I jerked, realizing my mind had wandered. Cramming? He seemed casual, but there’d been an intensity in his eyes that left me speechless.

So I said nothing.

Not, I’ll miss you.

Not, Don’t forget me.

Not, I love you.

Just . . . nothing.

But he had to know. The look in his eyes said he knew.

He leaned toward me, but the silence hung between us like an invisible curtain neither of us knew how to push aside.

I studied him, committing every detail to memory. Not the Dì èr, or the Prem’yera, but Finn. My friend. The boy I never wanted to forget.

He was tall and muscled, with short, blond hair that emphasized his prominent jaw. Even our clothing reflected our differences—he wore his perfectly tailored and pressed, while mine had grown snug and gray over the years. It just proved we belonged to two different worlds.

He put a hand on my desk, his pinky finger linking with mine, just as he’d done a hundred times before, but instead of the usual joy at the contact, I only felt the bittersweet tang of goodbye. Wy, I need to tell you something. He shook his head, exhaling loudly. I know it’s not fair of me, but I need you to know.

A handful of bouncing, noisy children came into the room, followed by their guardian. My gaze flicked to them, but Finn hadn’t moved.

Wy, he started again. I wanted to listen, I really did, but more people came in, and I heard Birch’s voice in the hall. Finn’s expression darkened, and he clenched his jaw—he’d heard Birch too.

Quickly, he covered my hand with his. I love you, Wylie. The words I’d longed to hear tumbled out of his mouth in a rush. If I could, I’d choose you. A million times, I’d choose you. I just—I just needed you to know that.

Something like desperation and need shone in his eyes, but the noise in the room seemed to grow too loud for me to think, to respond. I wanted to tell him I loved him too. That I would always choose him. And that I understood why it couldn’t be— except even then, my mind rebelled against the lie. Deep down, I didn’t understand. Our ancestors embarked on this journey just so this sort of status divide wouldn’t exist. Finn should have been able to choose whomever he wanted for a partner— even if that someone was a lowly Shudra.

Hey, guys. Birch’s voice cut between us, and I blinked in surprise when I found him standing beside Finn. Finn was back to leaning on the desk across from me, his arms folded. I might have thought I’d dreamed the whole encounter, but my right hand still sat on the desktop, my skin cooling without Finn’s warm hand over it. I curled my fingers and dropped my hand to my lap.

Birch glared at Finn then glanced down at me. Emotions flitted across his face— worry, then anger, worry again, then frustration. His lips thinned as he pressed them together. I gave a small shake of my head, begging him to leave it alone, but I knew he wouldn’t. At this point, I wasn’t even sure if Birch could leave things alone.

Slumming with the Shudra one last time, Dì èr?

Birch! I leaned forward and slapped his arm.

Finn straightened but otherwise didn’t rise to Birch’s bait. You know it’s not like that.

What I know is that you used to be our friend, but you’ve had your head in the clouds for the last year. Guess now that you’re almost free of us, you had to find new friends. Friends more like you. Birch’s fists clenched at his side, his knuckles turning white. Finn tried to respond, but Birch wasn’t done. You know, our entire society’s messed up, and it’s your fault. Yours and your parents and their parents. If it had never been for the Realignment, it could have been me leading the people. Or Wylie— he gestured back at me but didn’t look away from Finn. Or anyone else. He spread his arms wide, indicating the room, which had filled with silent, staring students. This isn’t equality, he spat. Not even close. He threw a glance at me before taking his seat behind me.

Finn stared at the floor for a long moment before taking a deep breath and stepping forward. He knocked his knuckles on my desk, and when our eyes met, said, Good luck today. Then to Birch, You too, Birch.

He took the seat in front of me, and that was that. We hadn’t spoken since, and I didn’t expect we ever would again.

—

Hey. Space cadet. Birch’s voice drew me out of my thoughts, and it took me a second to remember where I was. He stood at the threshold, keeping the lift’s door open until I joined him on the walkway.

It felt as if there was a sea of red on the other side of that door, and like every one of them was staring at me, wondering what kind of idiot I was. In reality, there were only a few Kshatriya mixed in with people of all castes as the students and their families gathered. Probably no one even noticed me or gave me a second thought.

Ready? I asked, brushing past Birch as if I’d been the one waiting for him.

He snorted a laugh. I was born ready.

We walked a little way past the others, neither of us big on crowds, before finding a spot where we could lean against the wall to wait. Despite the tension just a moment before, we grinned at each other.

I can’t believe we’re finally here. Soft music drifted down from recessed speakers as I slowly turned to take in the art and beauty all around us. Does the air smell different here? Fresher? I breathed in again, relishing the way the air felt as it rushed into my lungs.

Ahead, a crystalline statue of a woman stood on its tiptoes on the balustrade, her hair and gown flowing out over the vast drop to the bottom turret. Its construction fascinated me as much as the exquisite workmanship.

It’s brighter too, Birch said. Why would they do that? Why make our level dimmer than the others?

Good evening, Wylie. Birch.

I turned toward the deep, resonant voice and smiled brightly. Proctor Alán. I’m so happy you’re here. I wasn’t sure . . .

I wouldn’t miss it for all the worlds, the proctor said. He pressed his palms together in front of his chest while he inclined his head. Birch and I returned the bow, though we bowed slightly at the waist because we were students. And Shudra. Shall we go in together?

Yes! I fell into step just behind Proctor Alán and shared a grin with Birch. It was an honor to enter with the proctor, not only because he was Brahmin, but because he was our senior instructor.

Birch wore a somewhat constipated look, so I gave his shoulder a gentle shove, making him stumble. Relax, I whispered.

He frowned, but I was happy to note he walked more easily now and didn’t have the same I’m trying to look smart and important feel about him.

Will your parents not be joining us? the proctor asked with a glance back at Birch.

I shot a look at Birch. I felt like an idiot for not asking him myself.

Birch’s smile was barely above a scowl. They had to work late. They’ll come as soon as they’re able.

As soon as the proctor turned away, the smile fell from Birch’s face, replaced by something darker. I’d seen that look more often lately, and I didn’t like it. There was something ugly in it, something menacing, but none of that fit the friend I knew and loved.

I wanted to question him, but as we approached, a pair of double doors opened into the most sumptuous room I’d ever dared imagine. The walls were a deep forest green with sculptures and artwork flowing around them in a seamless, whimsical rendition of a forest.

I may as well have floated from the door to my seat for all I was aware of moving. Instead, I greedily took in everything from the glittering chandelier with its sprays of golden stars to the genuine wood table.

I pressed my palms to the polished surface, imagining I could feel the ancient lifeline connecting it to Earth. Can you believe this table was once a tree on Earth? I said to Birch, but it was Laila who responded.

Her luscious dark hair gleamed beneath the stars as it fell in waves over her shoulders. It matched her perfectly dark eyes and her perfectly tan skin.

It’s been over a thousand years since we left. She waved a dismissive hand. No one even thinks of that place anymore.

Well, we should. This was a hot topic between some of my classmates, and I immediately felt my hackles rise. We’ll never create a better society if we don’t remember where we came from and why our forefathers left Earth.

This time when Laila rolled her eyes she included Solomon, who sat beside her, as if saying, Can you believe her? We have a better society. Or haven’t you been paying attention? She laughed, and it felt as if everyone on the opposite side of the table laughed with her. Maybe you need to go back to Year One.

Heat warmed my cheeks, and I opened my mouth to respond, but Birch beat me to it. When we were in classes together, Laila, did you ever look at me and forget what caste I belonged to?

She studied him now and her nose wrinkled in disgust. What are you talking about?

I’m saying that if our society was so perfect, then we’d all be equal. It would be natural for the two most attractive people to get together, and that’s obviously you and me. He plucked at his shirt front as he continued. Do you even know why we all wear white? It’s not because there weren’t any other colors available on the color wheel, dixie, it’s because in the classroom, we’re all supposed to be the same. Equals. Yet you never went a day without reminding me I’m Shudra.

A few people had gasped when Birch called Laila a dixie—no one really knew what it meant except it was a not-very-nice thing to say to a girl. When he finished speaking, everyone waited for Laila’s response.

Her knuckles turned white around the delicate glass in her hand, and I wished I could rescue it before she crushed it. Just because you were that annoying, she said. I didn’t rub Wylie’s nose in it quite so much, did I? She cut her gaze to me, and I suddenly wished I could slide under the table rather than participate in this conversation.

I was saved from finding a response when the doors beyond the end of the table farthest from me opened, and a Servant positioned himself in the center of the newly created space.

It wasn’t hard to recognize Dominic, Finn’s Servant, with his black clothing hemmed with glittering gold embroidery. Wherever Finn went, Dom had never been far behind and had been the silent overseer to many of our childhood games.

Everyone stood.

Dom swept his gaze over us before moving to stand by the wall, half-obscured by the crystalline trees and glass flowers. Then Finn stood in the doorway. Even though he wore the same white uniform as the rest of us, he seemed cloaked in greatness. Even when he grinned and waved at the crowd, he was Dì èr. Our prince. He scanned our classmates, and somehow, I knew he was as keenly aware of me as I was of him.

They’re here, Birch said, then quickly stepped away.

I tore my gaze away from Finn to watch Birch rush through the doors, only to return a moment later with an older couple in green. I smiled when they saw me, and waved, but the crowd had closed in, leaving no room for them to join me at the table without making a scene.

Greetings, citizens. The voice came from the other end of the room. I swung my head toward it, my eyes catching for a moment on Finn’s bright gaze as if he’d been waiting for me to look at him.

Chosen at random from the citizens who originally boarded the Eden ships, one man and one woman became each ship’s Adam and Eve—the fabled pair who would become father and mother to the future of humankind.

I leaned forward so I could see Servant Natalya. Though she wore the same uniform as Dom, she appeared more regal somehow, as if her skin was more luminescent, her eyes larger and brighter.

Our Adam and Eve—Prem’yera Marilyn and Andre—were the first to receive the Gift. Since then, every child conceived by the Prem’yera has joined in a relationship with a Servant like Archibald, Dominic, and I have with your leaders. It has been our great honor to Serve by bestowing the Gift, allowing our beloved leaders to move even closer toward glorious singularity.

She paused for dramatic effect then said, Ladies and gentlemen, I give you your Prem’yera, Nicolai and Serantha.

She bowed and backed away, but I couldn’t see the Prem’yera enter because we all bowed deeply in a formal bow. We stayed that way for so long the blood rushed to my ears. I’d always thought the grand entrance was wasted on a room of bowing people.

Finally, Prem’yera Serantha spoke in a warm, welcoming voice. Welcome, brothers and sisters. Please rise and let us see your beautiful faces.

I was already smiling when I straightened. Serantha represented the very best any of us could hope to become, and I admired her strength and intelligence. She was beautiful, of course, with long blonde hair that fell in soft waves over her shoulders, but it was the light that shone from within her that made her truly beautiful.

Ah, she said. Much better. Her kind gaze swept over each of us so by the time she sat at the end of the table, I was buzzing from the moment our eyes had met.

Prem’yera Nicolai clapped sharply, and I jumped. Well, my friends. Can you believe we made it? He smiled, revealing the same dimple in his cheek as Finn. Other than that dimple and startling blue eyes, Finn’s appearance took after his mother more than his father.

I am sure you had your moments, as we did, where we wondered if our children would ever survive their education, yet here we are.

The adults around me chuckled, but his words annoyed me. I didn’t know everything about Finn’s life with his parents, but I knew he spent far more time with Dom than with either of them. But as my gaze roamed over the others at the table, and I took in the small exchanges between parents and students, I realized I was in no place to judge. I didn’t know the first thing about parent-child relationships.

I am sure all of you are eager to discover the results of your evaluations, but let us enjoy a meal together before everything in your lives changes. Nicolai paused, but his attention didn’t engender the same warm feelings Serantha’s had.

After the main course, Proctor Alán will read the placements, after which we will celebrate with dessert.

All around me, people spoke excitedly. I wished Birch was sitting next to me, but my classmate Gerald and his blue-dressed parents sat between us now.

An ayah placed a glimmering golden bowl on top of the large silver plate before me. I thanked her and when my gaze flicked over the other guests, I found Finn watching me.

He wore a stern expression that seemed completely out of place at this celebration, so I stuck out my tongue and crossed my eyes at him. It was speedy fast and did its job because Finn choked on a laugh and grinned back. Satisfied, I returned my attention to my soup, but not before catching Nicolai’s frown of disapproval.

The first spoonful of the clear broth was hard to swallow as I tried to clear my head of that frown. He wasn’t frowning at me, I told myself. He didn’t know me from any other student here.

Proctor Alán placed his hand on my arm, instantly relaxing me. I met his kind, hazel eyes and realized that unless I became a proctor, I may never see him again, either. Thank goodness he spoke before I got all misty-eyed.

You have been a stellar student, Wylie. It has been my privilege and honor to watch you grow.

His unexpected praise surprised me. Proctors didn’t give students any subjective feedback that might show a bias for or against them. I blinked back tears and stared at my soup. Thank you, I whispered.

I want you to do one thing for me, he continued. He gave my arm a gentle squeeze, maintaining the pressure until I met his gaze again. I expected him to soften at my show of emotion, but his gaze intensified. Whatever you have already endured, and whatever may come, hardships are not a measure of your unworthiness. Rather, hardships often prepare ordinary people for extraordinary destinies— but you must watch for it. You must be ready.

I nodded. Yes, Proctor Alán, I said. I will.

He held my gaze a moment longer, eyes flicking between mine as if searching my soul, then released his grip on my arm. He patted it and nodded. Good, good. He returned his attention to his soup.

I glanced around, wondering who had seen our exchange and what they thought of it, but no one appeared to have been watching. Maybe the proctor meant I should always try to do good in our society—which I already wanted to do. But it was awfully hard to do anything of importance as Shudra. If I could just place higher, I knew I could do so much more.

Even though this would likely be the best meal I’d ever eat in my life, I hoped it would pass quickly.

I couldn’t wait to discover what my future held.

CHAPTER THREE

FINN

I murmured a noncommittal response to Dartmouth, Laila’s father. He’d been going on about how the parents of a preferido—my intended—should receive public recognition and even benefits. I think he may have suggested that they move into suites on the Dharma level. He might have been right, and Father likely expected me to address his concerns, but Laila and our future together were the last things on my mind.

Since the moment I entered the dining room, it had taken all my willpower and concentration not to stare at Wylie. Not to go to her and tell her how beautiful she looked. To touch her hand and gaze into her gray eyes, so unusual in our population.

Beside me, Laila sparkled with stones scattered in her long dark hair. Though she wore the same white uniform as the rest of us, she made hers look as rich as Dartmouth wanted her to be. Wylie’s uniform was gray from overuse and clung to her soft body as if it were two sizes too small—which it probably was. She didn’t wear any makeup, and her shoulder-length ringlets were unadorned, yet she outshone everyone else in the room.

I’d spent much of my school time trying to figure out why I was attracted to her, but every answer I came to was too corny to tell anyone. I honestly thought Wylie’s beauty was her spirit—that something more within each of us that made us who we were.

Just as surely as my parents had chosen Laila for me, I’d chosen Wylie.

It had always been Wylie.

She was wise, compassionate, and observant. She was strong. I couldn’t imagine growing up as she did, with no dedicated parent or guardian and a syn who lacked any of the finer people skills of my family’s Servants. Despite all that, she still saw the good in people.

She was the kind of leader our people needed. The partner I needed.

My parents saw it differently, though. They weren’t interested in strengthening our relationship with the lower castes, only cementing the ties between us and the Kshatriya. As far as I could see, the Kshatriya had grown more emboldened over the past hundred years. As Laila’s father spoke to me, he did so with so much familiarity and command one might mistake him for my father.

My gaze drifted toward Wylie. I wanted to find her watching me, but every time I looked her way, she was engaged in conversation.

Father caught my eye though, and the self-satisfied expression on his face told me he knew exactly where my thoughts had gone, but that one day, I’d be grateful I hadn’t had the freedom to choose my preferido. He and Mother knew how I felt about Wylie, but I couldn’t convince them to let me choose her. With no one compatible from the other ship’s Dharma, and Laila the only female Kshatriya near my age, the correct choice seemed obvious—to them.

Mother’s hand on my arm drew my attention, and when our eyes met, I felt the tension in my shoulders ease away. I knew she was communing with the symbionts we shared, telling my body to relax and be present in the moment, and I was grateful.

She’d told me once that she liked what she had seen of Wylie, but she agreed with Father that it wouldn’t be wise for me to choose a Shudra.