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  He shook his head. “Are you always this argumentative?”

  “I’m not argumentative.”

  “Are you missing the irony in that statement?”

  She pressed her lips together. When they reached her vehicle, she unlocked the ignition, and it hummed to life.

  “I’ll have an escort stop by your place tomorrow night around six. Oh, and don’t bother eating. The ruler likes to feed his guests.”

  “I can make my own way to the palace.”

  “I know you can. And here.” He smiled and handed her the knife. “I believe this is yours.”

  His smile stuck with her as she glided away. He seemed like an okay guy, especially since he wouldn’t mention anything about this being a punishment for trespassing. She didn’t intend to tell her dad she’d been caught, especially since he’d warned her away from the warehouse. A sudden thought struck her. He’d asked for durrel for supper. She turned toward North Ridge Forest. Maybe if she caught enough of them, he wouldn’t question her too much about her invitation to the palace.

  “Explain to me again who this man is.” Dad stood in the doorway to her bedroom.

  The contents of Darianna’s simple closet lay strewn over her bed. She curled her toes into the colorful throw rug as she considered her options. “I met him yesterday before I caught the durrels. His name’s West. He’s an ambassador for Zone Two.” She studied the red dress before putting it back in the closet. The hem was shredded, and she didn’t have time to fix it. What about the brown pants? No, they were too casual. A simple black dress lay in the corner of the room. She didn’t particularly like it, but it was clean. The black one, it was.

  Her dad lingered, frowning. “If you’re not home by midnight, I’ll come and get you myself.”

  As he left, she pressed the button for the privacy screen to slide down. She tugged off her thick robe and pulled on the dress. The square neckline framed her face, while the soft fabric skimmed her curves. She moved to the low table and flipped the switch for the interactive mirror. Its glow lit her white walls with a warm light, and an image of her face with instructions for makeup application appeared. Although the mirror wasn’t the newest model, her dad had saved up to give it to her for Christmas. Studying her reflection, she ran a comb through her damp, curly hair and wrinkled her nose. After a relaxing shower, all she wanted was to stay home and read a book. She pulled out a few pots of makeup and followed the instructions on the screen. When she finished, she slid on a pair of simple slippers. They were a little dated, but they’d be hidden under her hem.

  Minutes later, her dad called, “Darianna! Someone’s here to pick you up.”

  She frowned and added a final swipe of lip gloss. So much for going to the palace herself. Giving her reflection a final check, she turned off the mirror and hurried to the main room. A driver in the palace’s silver-gray uniform stood inside the door. “Your ride, Miss.”

  Darianna kissed her father on the cheek.

  “Have her home by midnight,” he said to the driver.

  The man gave a curt nod and then escorted her to the two-person silver craft waiting outside. It was like her wanderer, but sleeker, with a protective windshield and the castle’s crest glimmering in the setting suns. The driver helped her step into the vehicle, and she settled into the sumptuous velvet seats.

  The wanderer sped past homes and livestock, the scenery blurring before they glided into the city. The wide palace gates came into view, the entrance aglow with tiny, glittering lights. After parking at the front of the palace, the driver helped her down from her seat and directed her to the expansive stairway. A couple in opulent attire made their way toward the columned building. In her simple dress, Darianna struggled with the urge to hide. The white marble staircase felt like it was a mile long. A gaping sinkhole would be good right about now.

  “Darianna!”

  West waved to her from the top of the stairs. His tanned, smiling face stood out in contrast against his formal white jacket. At the top step, he grasped her hand, his fingers warm. “Miss Chantel, I’m so glad to see you.” The thin metallic threads woven into the fabric matched the warm gold flecks in his eyes.

  “You discovered my name, I see.”

  He shrugged. “Looked up your profile when I got home. Let’s get you checked in.”

  Inside the door, an attendant stood waiting. “Name?” His eyes didn’t move from the list in his hands.

  “Darianna Chantel.”

  The servant looked up and put a hand to his chest. “No, no, that will not do.”

  “She’s fine, Bo.” West gave her an apologetic look.

  He clapped his hands, and another servant scurried over. “She needs to be in a pale shade. Get her into something appropriate, something less funereal.”

  Darianna’s face heated, and she balled her hands into fists.

  “I’m sorry,” West whispered. There was no time to reply as a servant ushered her away. Darianna would’ve loved to examine the colorful paintings and tapestries in the hallway at her leisure, but her escort was on a fashion mission of mercy.

  The girl led her to a room wallpapered in pink satin where another attendant waited. The next minutes were a whirl of colors and fine fabric. Dress after dress was pulled from a closet until a silk dress of the palest blue was slipped over her head. The first servant girl gasped. “It’s perfect.”

  Darianna turned and gaped at her reflection. The lacy sleeveless bodice draped into a delicate, flowing skirt shot through with gold. As she continued to stare, the other servant began to style her hair. After a few minutes, it’d been gathered at the back of her head in a mass of light brown curls, a few coiled tendrils escaping.

  The girl finally stepped back. “I think you’re ready. You’re beautiful, Miss.”

  “Thank you,” Darianna whispered. Who was the image in the mirror?

  Another maid escorted her back into the hall where West waited. As he caught sight of her, his eyes widened, and a slow smile grew on his face. Her stomach fluttered, and warmth stole into her cheeks.

  “Wow, what did you do with the other Darianna?”

  “I think she’s trapped under yards of fabric in the dressing room.”

  He chuckled and offered his arm. “May I?”

  Grasping his elbow like a lifeline, she followed him into the ballroom. Tables lined the perimeter, allowing all to see the burnished gold floor in the center of the room. Everything in the room was silvered, gilded, or embellished, and she wanted to remember all of it.

  He led her to a round table covered in white damask where Ruler Audric sat. “I’ll introduce you now, then we can eat. The entertainment is usually after the meal.”

  She nodded, sawdust filling her throat. What if she choked? Or got the hiccups? Maybe she could leave now, and no one would notice...

  “Ruler Audric, allow me to introduce you to my guest, Trystell’s finest singer, Darianna Chantel.”

  The middle-aged man stood with a smile. His dark hair was shot through with gray at the temples, and his dark brown eyes held a quick intelligence. “Welcome to the palace, Miss Chantel.”

  She sank into a quick curtsy, amazed she didn’t fall over. “Thank you, Ruler Audric, for inviting me.”

  “I’ve heard wonderful stories about you. I’m looking forward to hearing you sing tonight. If you stand in the center of the room, everyone will be able to see and hear you perfectly.”

  Her stomach bottomed out, but she nodded anyway.

  Things moved in a blur from that point. More people were introduced, delicious food was served, and the wine flowed. Guests talked and laughed, enjoying the party. Darianna made sure not to overeat, so her singing wasn’t compromised. Still, it felt like she was living someone else’s life.

  After the meal, the king stood. “Attention, all! Allow me to introduce the finest singer in the kingdom, Darianna Chantel!”

  She stood, flushing under the intense scrutiny of the clapping audience. Her palms grew damp.
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  “You’ve heard the rumors of a singing spirit. Others claimed they heard a songbird. We have found the singer responsible for these rumors, and she is here tonight. Please welcome the Songbird of Trystell to our grand hall.”

  As the audience clapped again, she made her way to the center of the ballroom. The song she’d written, titled “Dreamer,” would be her first choice. She’d follow with the song from the musical, and then finish with the Trystell anthem with its ridiculously high ending. It was a difficult melody. And the suns help you if you weren’t a soprano.

  In the expectant quiet, she blocked out the audience, took a deep breath, and let her voice take over. The glorious notes soared, emotion weaving through the melodies, and the music carried her away. Before she knew it, she sang the last note of the national anthem, and the audience surged to their feet, clapping.

  Dazed, she bowed and walked back to her place at the table. The king turned to her, beaming. “Thank you for filling my kingdom with music. Your Trystell anthem was flawless.”

  “Thank you, Ruler Audric.”

  He turned to West, who stood at her elbow. “Kyllen, you’ve surprised me this time. Good work, Son, on finding Trystell’s Songbird.”

  She jerked, her eyes finding West’s guilty ones. Kyllen? Son?

  He gave her a weak smile before nodding to Ruler Audric. “Thank you, Father.”

  She fanned her face with a hand. “I feel a bit lightheaded. If you would both excuse me, please. I need some fresh air.” She ducked past them both and hurried for the exit. An ambassador? No wonder he looked familiar when they first met. He was the ruler’s son, the crown prince of Trystell. He probably took the ambassadorship because it was a cushy job, brimming with exotic travel and polished women. Pushing open the palace doors, the cool evening air soothed her heated cheeks. She walked to the edge of the white-columned porch. The neighboring planet of Isvora hung high in the night sky, its lavender and blue surface beautiful. What if she kept walking? She’d eventually arrive home. There, she could forget she’d been fooled by a pair of deep brown eyes.

  A sudden thought occurred to her. Aside from being a liar or an imaginary assassin, Kyllen was also engaged. A month ago, his engagement had been announced to the beautiful Princess Jerissa Jastin, from a nearby kingdom. Darianna fought the silly disappointment filling her chest. What did it matter if he was a liar or engaged or even a boring diplo? She hardly knew him.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She stiffened and turned. West—no, Kyllen—stood behind her. “I’m sure you are. Although I’d love to know why you’re apologizing. Because you lied? Or because you got caught?”

  He grimaced. “I should’ve told you, I know.”

  “Yeah, you should’ve.”

  Lavender light silvered his face, making it almost as pale as his jacket. “All my life people have treated me differently. The king’s son? Let’s handle him with kid gloves. I wanted to be my own person, but it seemed like everything I tried was a disaster. And you probably heard about that argument last year...”

  “I heard you punched him.” Darianna smirked.

  Glaring, he crossed his arms. “That isn’t what happened. Anyway, most of the palace wrote me off. The ambassadorship gave me the chance to prove myself. But when I met you, you treated me like a regular person. Not a screw-up or a prince. I didn’t want that to end. That’s why I didn’t say anything. Again, I’m sorry.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “I threw a knife at the prince. A knife. I’m so dead.”

  He took her hand, his fingers strong and warm. “No, you’re not. I’m fine. It can be our secret, okay?”

  She hesitated then relaxed at his reassuring smile. “Okay.”

  He still held her hand, but she pulled away, her fingers cooling in the evening breeze.

  “Would you like to go back in?”

  “Maybe for a little bit.”

  They returned to the party and found the servants setting out dessert. After enjoying a decadently rich chocolate mousse, she was ready to go home. While she changed back into her dress, she stifled her disappointment at missing the chance to dance. Although she would’ve loved it, she knew West wouldn’t offer. Or was it Kyllen? For some reason, West suited him better. The name Kyllen belonged to the kingdom. West, or her memories of him, could be all her own.

  To her surprise, he escorted her home. She settled deeper into the luxurious upholstery of the wanderer and brought up the engagement. “I heard you’re engaged to Princess Jerissa Jastin. That must be exciting. Is she nice?”

  He avoided her gaze as he piloted the craft. “I hope so.”

  “You haven’t met?”

  “No, it was arranged by our fathers.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know that still happened.”

  “It doesn’t usually. But things were done differently since I’m the prince.” His lips twisted on the words.

  “I’m sorry.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “It is what it is.”

  An awkward silence descended. She mentally kicked herself. Way to ruin the evening.

  The computer navigation system beeped, indicating their arrival and breaking the silence. West settled the wanderer to the ground then came around to slide open her vehicle door. He accompanied her to the front porch. A thin strip of bright light framed the doorway.

  She turned to him. “Thanks for the ride and being my escort. It made everything easier.”

  He smiled. “It was sincerely my pleasure. I enjoyed hearing you sing again. Your voice is extraordinary, Darianna.”

  His voice caressed her name, and a small tingle fizzed through her veins. “Thank you. Good night, West.”

  He gave her another smile and a wave before leaving. As the vehicle disappeared from sight, she sighed. She’d remember this night for a long time. Letting herself into the house, she closed the door and almost tripped over the bag lying on the floor. Her father’s travel bag, the one he always used for long trips.

  He sat in his chair, watching the flames dance in the fireplace. “Did you have a nice time?”

  “It was great. Why is your bag waiting near the door?”

  He sighed. “Why don’t you tell me about your evening instead?”

  “Where are you going? You just got back from a long trip last week.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry, Anna. The company wants me to get one of their mines up and running over in Zone Six.”

  Her mouth dropped open. Zone Six was over two hundred miles away. He’d never traveled that far before.

  “When are you leaving?”

  “I’ll leave after breakfast tomorrow morning. I contacted the Hawkings. They’ll stop in from time to time, make sure you’re doing okay.”

  Her stomach dropped. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  He sighed again. “Don’t be difficult. Everyone watches out for each other in the OS.” The Outskirts community, small and tight-knit, helped out whenever there was a need.

  But the Hawking’s son had been very interested in her last summer. She’d feigned a strange, contagious disease for over a month to keep him away. “Rez makes me uncomfortable.”

  “You could do worse. He’s a hard worker.”

  He worked hard to get his hands on her, too. If he was the one who stopped by to check on her and didn’t keep his hands to himself, she wouldn’t hesitate to use her knives. Her stomach knotted tighter.

  “Time for bed, baby. Sleep well.”

  “G’night.” Her shoulders sagged as she headed to her bedroom. She hated it when her father traveled, and the way their home hushed, the too-quiet rooms making her skin prickle. But it wasn’t fair to make his job harder for him. So tomorrow morning, she’d smile and send him on his way.

  The next morning, she forced a pleasant expression on her face as her father grabbed his bag and walked to the door. Mr. Hawking waited outside to take him to the Atmospheric Terminal, where a transfer vehicle would deliver him to Zone Six. At least his emp
loyer paid for the rental. “Mrs. Hawking will be over later this morning. Stay away from the warehouse, and be good. I’ll send word when I arrive. Love you, Anna.”

  “Love you, too.” After a quick hug, he was gone. She dropped to a chair and allowed the smile to drop from her face, as well. After a few minutes, she rose to begin her daily chores. There was still a stop at the market for fresh produce and maybe even a hunting trip to squeeze in by the day’s end.

  Several hours later, a knock at the door drew her from her shopping list. Rez Hawking stood on the other side, his blocky shoulders filling the doorway. He ran a hand through his shock of blond hair, and it stuck up in tiny spikes. “Hi, Darianna. You look pretty today.” Licking his lips, he allowed his gaze to slide down her figure. She suppressed a shudder.

  “Thanks for stopping by, but I was about ready to go to the market. I’ve got everything under control.” And even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t tell you.

  He moved into the house uninvited and shut the door behind him. She backed up, maintaining her personal space.

  “All alone here for a while, huh?”

  “Well, I’ll be busy. Probably in and out a lot, running errands and hunting.”

  He squinted. “I should stop by in the evenings.”

  “That’s completely unnecessary.”

  He shook his head. “Can’t be too careful. I’ve already discussed it with Ma. She thinks it’s a good idea.”

  Internal alarm bells rang, but Darianna couldn’t think of an excuse or a way out. He moved closer. “We’re going to get to know each other a lot better in the next few weeks.”

  The hair stood up on the back of her neck. Before she could respond, another knock sounded at the door. She hurried to open it. The more distance between her and Rez, the better.

  West stood on the other side, back in his assassin outfit. “Hi.” When he saw Rez, he took a step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had company.”

  Rez walked up behind her quickly. “Your Highness, it’s a pleasure.”

  In an instant, her neighbor had recognized the prince despite his uniform. Darianna swallowed a huff of irritation but side-stepped so she wasn’t trapped near the door. “Oh, no. He was just leaving. My father left this morning on a long trip, so my neighbor felt he should offer his help.”