“No,” I rasp.
His symmetrical features split into a grin. “Don’t worry, her purity is still intact.”
Mouse steps back to watch our reactions. I don’t know if any of this is a lie or why he’s sharing it. The buttons on his collar flick on and off, and two small discs gleam on the epaulets on each shoulder. I guess he has at least three cameras.
“Alright, then.” He reaches for the strap.
My heart flip-flops, and all three of us inhale sharp breaths. I take a step back, my pulse fluttering in my throat.
Instead of pulling out a rifle, he reveals a shoulder bag, reaches into its depths, and pulls out a bottle of Mountain Water. Droplets bead from its surface, making it look fresh from the refrigerator. He twists open the seal with a crack.
I gulp and rub my dry throat. Why on earth are they allowing this man to speak with us before we’re interrogated? Mouse drinks several long swallows and releases a loud exhale. It’s the long, refreshed sound people make when getting their first mouthful of water directly from the tap before the sun turns it lukewarm.
“Answer this question for a watery prize.” He holds up the three-quarters-full bottle. “Which of you have no feelings, good, bad or indifferent, toward the prince?”
“Me,” Emmera rasps.
I turn to the girl and frown, but her eyes are fixed on that water.
“Congratulations.” He steps toward Emmera’s cage and hands her the bottle. Emmera opens it and takes tiny sips.
“And now for the next question.” He pulls out another bottle of water from his bag. “Who helped Miss Solar in this assassination?”
When nobody answers, Mouse opens his bottle and takes a long sip.
“I had no accomplices,” says Vitelotte.
“Wonderful.” He walks to her cage and hands her the bottle.
My tongue darts out to lick my dry lips. I don’t know if Vitelotte is trying to save us or just speaking up to receive a drink.
Mouse turns to me, his blue eyes twinkling like jewels. “How about you, Zea-Mays Calico?”
“What?” I whisper.
He steps in front of my cage, and his expression turns serious. “Do you love Prince Kevon, or have you been playing with his heart? Tell me it was all a game, and I’ll whisk you where no one will ever cause you harm.”
I drop my gaze. He wants me to denounce Prince Kevon in exchange for my freedom? This is just like the cryptic warning he gave me before the ball, only I know what will happen to me if I stay. A brutal interrogation, and if Prince Kevon doesn’t survive to get me out of this cage, I’m guaranteed a messy execution.
“How is he?” I ask.
“Your beloved?” The smile in his voice tells me he doesn’t believe I care for the prince.
I raise my chin and meet eerie blue eyes set within an unsettlingly perfect face. The first time I met Mouse, I thought he was a statue that had come to life, but now I’m thinking he’s an android or at least someone whose face was modeled by an artist obsessed with symmetry. He tilts his head to the side like an owl but somehow keeps his eyes fixed on mine.
“When I left Prince Kevon, his skin turned silver. They said it was the nanobots,” I say. “What’s happened to him since?
Mouse frowns. “Do you love the prince?”
Queen Damascena’s threat wraps like a pair of hands around my throat, and I choke on thin air. The white walls around my cage seem to close in on us, and the lights shine brighter. The last time I tried to break things off with Prince Kevon, she threatened to tamper with the twins’ vaccinations. Escaping with Mouse will only lead to their deaths.
I nod. It’s not just to save my little brothers, but because it’s the truth. Watching Prince Kevon gunned down after the ball was heart-breaking, but it was nothing compared to seeing him stabbed. I’ll never forget the pulse and flow of his warm blood through my fingers, I’ll never forget staunching his death with my hands.
Mouse raises his brows with a nod meant to encourage me to say it out loud.
“Yes, I love Prince Kevon.”
“An unexpected response,” he murmurs. “I commend your loyalty to the prince.”
He stares at me with intense scrutiny. The calculation in his eyes tells me he’s no longer playing a game, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or bad.
Mouse reaches into his bag. I lick my lips, hoping he’ll give me a bottle of water. Instead, he pulls out a bag of trail mix and slips it through the bars of Emmera’s cage.
Emmera tears it open and sprinkles a handful in her mouth, then Mouse walks to Vitelotte’s cage and hands her a pack of the same mix. She murmurs her thanks and rips it open.
My stomach clenches, and my shoulders droop. Pride dictates that I should remain silent and not beg, but I’m so hungry and thirsty that it hurts.
“May I have some water?” I ask.
“You may have a token of my esteem.” He sticks his arm through the bar and hands me a small box. “A girl who wants to be the queen should always look her best.”
Without a word, Mouse walks out of the room.
Vitelotte pushes her trail mix and water bottle through the bars. “Have some.”
Her voice grates on my nerves. How dare she be nice to me after what she’s done? I turn and meet her wide, brown eyes set within a pretty face framed by burgundy curls. She looks so innocent and incapable of murdering someone in cold blood, but all the signs were there. I just ignored them because the people she killed were my enemies.
“How could you?” My voice breaks.
She scowls. “Do you know why I did nothing when those Nobles were hunting you?”
“You said you were scared.” The words feel false on my lips. Vitelotte is fearless.
“Harvesters don’t belong with Nobles, let alone with Royals,” she said. “Prince Kevon sold you a dream, but at the end of the Princess Trials, he’ll choose one of his own. You needed to experience these Nobles first-hand.”
Bitterness coats my tongue. If she had bothered to ask about the naked footage, she might have gotten the chance to understand my friendship with Prince Kevon. I exhale a weary breath and tilt my head toward the ceiling.
“Why did you change your mind?” I ask.
“Prunella Broadleaf’s trial was telling. Maybe she kept trying to kill you because you were a threat.”
“Prince Kevon is the kindest, most noble person I’ve ever met. Because of you, Phangloria might lose a sympathetic king.”
“Zea,” whispers Emmera. “What did that man give you?”
I open the box and find a pair of iridescent pearl earrings with clip-on fastenings. Hope seeps through my insides, and I almost forget about my thirst. Mouse might act like a creep, but he’s always offering me help.
I place the earrings on and turn to Emmera. “How do I look?”
She pushes her water bottle through my bars. “Like you just spent ten days without food or water.”
“Thanks.” I open her bottle, take enough to wet my throat, and hand it back.
Over the next several minutes, Emmera shares her trail mix and water with me. My Red Runner instincts tell me that Vitelotte is my true ally. When Emmera wanted to ditch me, it was Vitelotte who let me ride on the back of her glider. Vitelotte also rescued me from those murderous Guardian girls when she could have walked away. I know all this, yet when I think about Prince Kevon bleeding to the brink of death, I can’t bear to look at her.
“I’m sorry for always trying to get you into trouble,” says Emmera.
I stare at the other Harvester girl. Her blue-gray eyes shine with unshed tears, and she forces a trembling smile through dry, cracked lips. Emmera’s hair hangs limp down both sides of her face, and the roots are darkened with grease.
“Why are you saying this?” I ask.
“We’re going to die,” she murmurs. “I hope Prince Kevon survives. He seemed like a nice man and didn’t deserve to be stabbed. I can understand why you spent so much time with him. I should
have been more of a friend instead of allying myself with the Nobles.”
“At least you know better for next time,” I mutter.
It’s not much of a comfort because nobody in this society believes in reincarnation. Maybe it was an option in the cradle of civilization when humans built the pyramids, but there were thirty billion souls alive before the first of the bombs struck. Nobody knows how many million remained after the slew of natural disasters that decimated the world populations.
When we die, our bodies will burn to ash, and the ashes placed in recyclable containers. Most families bury those containers in the earth and plant a seed. Then the plant can feed on the earth and ashes, and the soul will become one with nature. I don’t know if that’s true, but it’s better than coming back as a Harvester.
The footsteps return. I sit up, thinking it might be Mouse with more food and cryptic comments, but General Ridgeback walks in, followed by Lady Circi.
My mouth drops open. What’s Berta’s father doing here? “What’s happening?” I rush to the bars. “Did Prince Kevon survive?”
The general’s gaze locks with mine, and I stiffen under his scrutiny. He points a gun at Vitelotte and pulls the trigger. Emmera screams, and a shocked breath whistles between my teeth. Vitelotte drops her trail mix as she falls to the concrete floor.
They both ignore me and stand side-by-side in front of Vitelotte’s cage. When they’re sure she’s unconscious, Lady Circi places her palm on a bar, and the front of the cage springs open.
General Ridgeback steps in, wraps a meaty hand around Vitelotte’s ankle, and drags her out of the room. As they’re leaving, Lady Circi turns around and fixes me with a glare. The look in her eyes says that I’m going to be next.
Fear plummets through my stomach like a lead weight. I wrap my arms around my middle and resist the overwhelming urge to join Emmera’s whimpers.
But one of my earrings starts to hum.
Chapter 10
I clap a hand over my ear and then disguise the movement by scratching my head. The humming sound in my ears smooths out, and I hear footsteps moving around a hard surface. My throat dries, and I lower myself to the floor, wondering if Mouse is going to send me a secret message.
“They executed her,” Emmera says between sobs.
“There’s no blood.” I turn to the crying girl.
She lies facing me on her side with her arms wrapped around her knees, and her long, auburn hair covers her face. “What did you say?”
“If that gun contained real bullets, she would have bled.” I point at the white space outside our cells. “Some of it would have spilled across the floor as they drag her.”
Emmera raises her head and stares at me as if I’ve sprouted lizard scales. “How can you keep a cool head at a time like this?”
A wave of nausea rushes through my insides. I don’t know if it’s the water, the trail mix, or the impending torture session I’ve just imagined they’re subjecting to Vitelotte. I clutch my middle and exhale a long breath.
“The Princess Trials has been one disaster after another. If I didn’t stay calm, I’d already be dead.”
She lowers her gaze, and her cheeks turn red. Maybe she’s thinking about directing armed Nobles to the eucalyptus tree where she thought I’d hidden.
“Subject Solar’s heart rate is within optimal ranges,” a female voice says in my ear. “The truth serum is in effect.”
A bolt of alarm slices through my veneer of calm, and I straighten from my slumped position. Emmera says something, but I tune her out. Mouse is letting me listen to Vitelotte’s interrogation.
Lady Circi asks Vitelotte a series of routine questions, such as her name, age, family, and work history. The responses come in a slow monotone. I chew on the inside of my lip and stare at my fingers, waiting to see what she will say about Carolina and the Red Runners.
“What happened to Berta Ridgeback?” asks a male voice.
“She drowned,” says Vitelotte in that droning voice.
“Did you see her die?”
“No.”
Someone huffs. “You need to be more specific.” Lady Circi sounds impatient, making me wonder if this truth serum has a time limit. “What was Miss Ridgeback doing the last time you saw her?”
“She left the coach to chase after Zea-Mays Calico.”
“Why?” asks the male voice, who I’m sure is Berta’s father.
I hold my breath, hoping Vitelotte doesn’t implicate me in Berta’s death.
“Ingrid Strab said that anyone who killed Zea-Mays Calico would become her lady-at-arms when she married Prince Kevon.”
My stomach drops. She’s just given them my motive for killing Berta: self-defense.
“Hey, Zea?” Emmera shouts.
I raise my head and meet the other girl’s annoyed features. “What?”
“Are you sleeping?”
Lowering my upper body to the floor, I curl into a comfortable sleeping position and face the empty cell. “I’m trying.”
After that, Emmera leaves me alone, and the subject moves to the stabbing of Prince Kevon. Vitelotte answers a series of questions posed by Lady Circi and by a different male voice, and she reveals that she hadn’t joined the Princess Trials as an assassin but as a spy.
“What was your mission?” asks Lady Circi.
“To find a hidden entrance to the palace.”
I inhale a sharp breath through my nostrils. Earlier, when I speculated that Vitelotte was a Red Runner, I hadn’t completely believed it. My mind generated a scenario brought on by hunger, thirst, and abandonment. Deep down, I hoped Vitelotte hadn’t been telling the truth about Ryce being put in charge of a group of lost causes and that Carolina hadn’t asked me to join the Princess Trials as an afterthought.
The earring goes silent. I’m sure nobody is speaking because they realize the production assistants have transported us through numerous hallways. By now, Vitelotte would have found several ways to get into the palace.
“How were you supposed to communicate these hidden entrances?” Lady Circi asks.
“There’s an application on my Netphone,” Vitelotte replies.
Lady Circi orders someone in the interrogation room to scour Vitelotte’s suite. My heart thunders. What happened to the watch Ryce delivered through Sharqi? I’m sure I put it in my boot, but I haven’t seen any of the garments I wore in the previous round of the Trials.
I force deep, calming breaths in and out of my nostrils and try to focus on the rest of the interrogation.
“Who received this information?” Lady Circi.
Vitelotte doesn’t reply, and my breaths go shallow. The rebel’s dilemma doesn’t work in a situation like this because she stabbed Prince Kevon in front of cameras and witnesses. However, Vitelotte can’t be more than eighteen, and they might be lenient on her if she hands them information on the Red Runners.
Lady Circi repeats the question with more force.
“I gave the interview to Ryce Wintergreen,” replies Vitelotte.
My eyes snap open, and I inhale a noisy gasp.
“And the name of your group?” asks Lady Circi.
Vitelotte pauses before replying, “There’s just me and Ryce.”
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. The bright lights sting my retinas, and when I shift them away, floaters appear before my eyes. Vitelotte’s confession makes no sense.
My brows draw together. What if Mouse put something in her water that allows her to conceal the truth? But I don’t understand why Mouse would protect her when she’s clearly guilty. If they’re allies, why did she point out Ryce in the farmers market and suggest he was lower than a corn snake?
Over the next few minutes, Vitelotte explains a story similar to mine. She fell in love with a boy she met in Rugosa, who offered her a future in exchange for joining the Princess Trials and finding a route into the palace.
“What was the point of gaining access to the royal family?” asks Lady Circi.
; “We wanted to take some souvenirs to sell,” Vitelotte drones. “The money would help us leave the Harvester Region and become Artisans.”
I bite down on my lip, wondering if anyone’s going to believe such a ridiculous tale. They might if they’re anything like Berta, who always called me a bumpkin and implied I was stupid. I might be upset that Carolina and Ryce aren’t the heroes that I imagined, but I don’t want the Red Runners hurt.
The earring’s sound cuts out for a few seconds, and I clasp my hands over my roiling stomach. Mouse is either toying with me or trying to get me killed. That water bottle did contain an antidote, but he gave it to Vitelotte. The only reason she’s not staying silent is that they will work out what’s happened and give her another drug.
My throat spasms. Maybe Mouse thinks I’m as innocent as Emmera and don’t need any protection or maybe my confession will be a surprise twist in the show he’ll import back to his republic?
I stare into Vitelotte’s empty cell until my vision turns double. When they drag me in for my interrogation, the serum will make me betray the Red Runners and get everyone executed.
The sound returns and Vitelotte explains the details of the robbery she supposedly planned with Ryce. Lady Circi and the other interrogator’s voices become less tense. It’s as though they believe that Vitelotte is just a thief.
“Why did you stab the prince?” asks a voice.
Something sharp pierces my earlobe, making me curl into a ball. My pained hiss drowns out Vitelotte’s response about proving her love for Ryce.
“Zea?” asks Emmera.
“Just... cramps,” I say from between clenched teeth.
She offers me a sip of water, but I refuse. Liquid seeps out of the earrings, and my vision blurs. I hope to Gaia or whoever is listening that this is a last-minute antidote.
As soon as the needles retreat into the pearls, I sit up, reach underneath my disheveled braids, and rub my ears. Clear liquid gathers on my fingertips, but it evaporates and leaves no smell or taste.
I can no longer hear anything from the other room, so I focus my attention on Emmera’s speculations on what she thinks happened to Vitelotte.
Several minutes later, Lady Circi returns with General Ridgeback. My heart rate trebles and my breaths become shallow. Emmera whimpers and cowers in the corner of her cell.
The Princess Games: A young adult dystopian romance (The Princess Trials Book 2) Page 14