Rations and Revolvers

My morning was ruined the second a stray bullet shattered my only mug of acorn coffee. But things got worse when Matron Ruzha kicked my door down, threatening me with the sulfur mines if I didn't finally marry and meet the village's matrimony quota. To get the relentless matchmakers off my back, I happily dragged Daris, the impoverished, perpetually exhausted farmer next door, to the registry office. It was a perfect, practical arrangement. I play the scatterbrained housewife while secretly running rebel missives; he farms turnips and mostly ignores me. But our quiet life of silently swapping the best pieces of our meager meat rations is a lie. My "helpless" husband is actually the Brass King, boss of the Gresnian underworld. And when my rebel cell's mission to hijack a military train violently collides with his syndicate's heist on the very same locomotive, a life-threatening explosion forces our masks off. Can our fragile, unspoken affection survive the crossfire, or will our secrets bury us in the rubble?