“You ready to do this?” Ewan looked from his own reflection in the mirror, where he’d been straightening his bow tie, to Nina’s.

She shook her head, then turned her face from side to side to study herself in the mirror. She wore a floor-length tunic-gown hanging from one shoulder with a several strands of glittering beads. Both the dress and the beads were red, the color he loved best on her. This time, she’d refused his offer of a makeup artist and hairdresser coming to the house and had pinned her hair up in a complicated series of twists at the top leading to a full explosion of her curls down her back. She was so beautiful that she took his breath away.

“Absolutely not,” she answered after a moment. “No way.”

He laughed and turned to take her in his arms. “Baby . . . you’ll be fine. Your speech is terrific, you don’t need to worry about that. They’re going to love you.”

“I do have experience speaking in front of crowds, Ewan. I’m not scared about that.” She gave him a slightly annoyed glance he supposed he deserved for being slightly patronizing. “This feels different, that’s all.”

“Why?” Curiously, he studied her as he used a fingertip to push a dangling curl over her shoulder. He let his fingertip trace her upper arms and watched her skin ripple into gooseflesh that he wanted to kiss and lick and stroke.

“Because they’re all hyper moneyed.” She shrugged but didn’t move out of his embrace. “This crowd is not the same as the ones I’m used to connecting with. It’s not like speaking to mothers’ groups or educators on behalf of the other enhanced soldiers, or testifying to senators in support of the tech to prove that it’s necessary and important. I’ve worked for rich people before, lots of times, I mean, they’re the only ones who could afford me. It’s different being one of them. Moving among the crowd instead of around or through it. It’s almost like you all speak a foreign language. Before, when I talked to people and tried to convince them to support my cause, it was always as a soldier. I wore my uniform to remind them of that. Not like . . . this.

“These,” she added with a kick of one foot to show off the pointy-toed high heel. “I mean look at these things. They ought to be designated as lethal weapons, mostly because they’re killing my feet.”

“So take them off. Wear your boots. Hell, wear your uniform, if that makes you feel better. I told you that before.” Ewan eased her closer for a kiss.

Nina laughed and rolled her eyes. “Ewan. My love. My heart. Do you really think anyone is going to take me seriously if I don’t show up dressed for the part? Katrinka was right. They don’t want to see a soldier in front of them. They don’t want to be reminded of what I am.”

“No. I guess not. But baby, darling, light of my life . . .” He ducked away from her playful swat, then came back to grab another kiss. “I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be yourself. It’s you who’s going to change all their minds, Nina. You being you.”

“They want to see something pretty they can pity,” she said flatly.

Ewan frowned. “I hate that you feel that way.”

Nina shrugged, but her expression had twisted. Her eyes and mouth, both hard. “You and I both know that the only way we are going to sway their opinions and get their support is to be sure the cause doesn’t make them feel too uncomfortable. We have to make it trendy. If I can make them see me as something they can fix, they’ll be on board, all flags waving. I’ve never been much of a martyr, that’s all.”

“Is that what this feels like you’re doing? Martyring yourself? Making yourself something to pity?”

“Isn’t that what I am?” she asked him.

Ewan kissed her. Held her close to him. “Never.”

“Thank you, baby. I appreciate that.”

“I appreciate you,” he said, thinking for a moment how she’d so laughingly said they were disgusting. Schmoopy. It was the truth, and he didn’t care.

She snuggled close to him, her head on his shoulder. “You’re going to mess up my hair, and then we’ll really be late.”

“I’d like to mess up more than that.”

She laughed, sounding lighter. “Don’t start what you can’t finish.”

“Oh, I can finish,” he began, but stopped himself when she playfully dug her knuckles into his sides.

Her eyes blazed at the small groan of pleasure that slipped out of him at the dull pain. “Behave, or you’ll get a spanking.”

“Promise?” he teased, but then kissed her knuckles and linked their fingers tightly together. “Nina, I mean it. If you’d feel more comfortable in your uniform, or whatever else you’d want to wear, then you should change your clothes. This isn’t about putting on a show . . .”

She raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips. “Uh-huh.”

“It’s not about making you feel on edge,” Ewan amended. “Or making you into something you’re not.”

She sighed and caressed his cheek. “It’s not just the clothes. It’s that this is exactly what you just said it wasn’t. A show. The dress, the shoes, the hair, it’s all part of a costume. We’ll be telling them the truth about me, but at the same time, only the parts they’ll want to hear. It’s a complicated game.”

“It’s politics,” he said.

“And I’m not a politician.”

“I’m not, either,” he reminded her.

Nina smiled. “You’re better at it than I am. You can act the part. Kissing hands and shaking babies.”

“I love you,” Ewan said.

Nina smiled. “I love you, too.”

“We got this,” he told her. “You and me together, baby.”

Nina took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. Let’s go do this.”