by Nina Walker
This meant nothing to her.
I’d hoped the ballet studio would soften her. I recognized the longing in her, knew how much she’d missed dance. When I’d seen her eyes light up at the presence of her old teacher, I’d thought, this is it. She’s going to let me in. She’s finally going to understand our relationship is what I value most of all.
Wishful thinking. She’d taken the gift and closed the door even tighter on me. I gritted my teeth, annoyed at my continued wishful thinking when it came to this girl. I’d always been such a cynic until she’d come along.
Lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t realized I’d stopped leading her in our dance. We were now standing in the center of the dance-floor, curious eyes surrounding us.
“What’s wrong?” Jessa asked, shifting back to look at me straight on.
My chest burned. I wanted to kiss her. So badly, I wanted to kiss her. But it wasn’t what she wanted.
“Nothing,” I muttered, then swept her back into my arms.
I never would have told my father what I knew about the Resistance, had I known it would backfire so badly on her family. Didn’t she realize that? I couldn’t have known that her father was going to show up. Or Sasha.
“How much longer do you think this thing is going to last?” she asked. “I’m getting pretty tired.”
I sighed. Tired of me, more likely.
“I’ll walk you out.” I shifted to hold her hand and began to maneuver her through the room.
I noticed a couple new faces standing together in a corner and watching the two of us with distrust. Recognition passed between us as I locked gazes with one of them. They were some of the alchemists who’d originally attacked the palace with the Resistance. I was certain they saw me as the enemy. They had no idea that they could have succeeded if not for my intervention.
I only did it because Richard was already suspicious, already planning something. Telling them about the attack gave me the leverage to get to this moment with Jessa. It had worked. And then it had backfired.
I gently tugged Jessa through the crowd, stopping every few steps to thank yet another group of people. They swarmed on all sides to congratulate us, some taking photos with their slatebooks. It wasn’t so much the Guardians or Royal Officers who cared, but my father’s many friends.
“Thank you so much for saying that.” Jessa smiled at a particularly pushy couple. “Richard picked it out,” she said, gesturing down to her dress. It fit her in the right places and dropped to the floor.
“Actually, I picked that one out,” I said. Since when did I care about getting credit?
Her expression faltered as she peered up at me, her smile slipping. She’d barely met my gaze all night, but now our eyes locked and heat flashed between us.
You may be fooling everyone else here, but you’re not fooling me. I know you’re too stubborn to forgive me. I know this isn’t what you want. By the way her wide eyes turned into a hurt glare, it was almost as if she could hear the thought.
See? We’re so connected you can read my expression and I can read yours. But you’re still choosing to hate me.
She huffed and turned back to the couple. “I do like this dress,” she said. “I just love how everything in my closet was picked out for me by someone else.”
Touché.
Seeds of anger, long planted, were beginning to take hold, spreading, wrapping their roots around my nerves and pulling my heart in opposing directions. When had she ever chosen me first? I thought she loved me, but I’d never wanted love to feel this way. Love wasn’t supposed to be one-sided. We were both supposed to want it, to fight for the other one’s needs.
She isn’t fighting for me. I buried that thought down deep because it hurt almost as much as her refusal to look me in the eye.
I shook my head and shifted so she was even closer. She’d come around. She had to. We were getting married; no way Richard was going back on that grand announcement. He’d never allow two canceled engagements. That would embarrass him, and embarrassment was not something he tolerated. This wedding was happening. It’s what Jessa had wanted not too long ago, and maybe one day she’d want it again.
Once again, we moved through the crowd, almost to the door. Maybe I was ready to be done too. Sleep sounded amazing. At least then I could avoid the pain.
“Congratulations to the beautiful couple,” Sabine said, sidling up next to me and smiling coolly. A prickle of heat ran down my spine. I did not want to have this conversation, but the inevitability of it was staring right at us.
Sabine’s husband Mark, and thier daughter Celia, stood just behind her, eyeing Jessa with equal parts distrust and hatred. They wore smiles on their faces and expensive black dress clothes on their bodies. They nodded along with Sabine and portrayed a happy family in all its perfection. But there was something wrong with that picture.
“Umm–thanks,” Jessa said softly.
They returned the smile tenfold, and Sabine stepped forward to shake her hand. I didn’t like it. After following the group a few nights ago while cloaked behind my white invisibility magic, and seeing Sabine and Mark interact with Faulk and my father, I was beginning to think it wasn’t Mark who led his household after all.
No, Sabine was the puppet-master behind her powerful husband.
“Thank you,” I added as I cleared my throat, matching each of their heavy gazes one-by-one. They may be intimidating, but I wasn’t intimidated. That was a distinction everyone in this little party needed to understand.
“That is very gracious of you to say,” I continued, my voice hard. “Considering the circumstances.” I refused to feel an ounce of guilt over getting out of that prison-sentence of an engagement with Celia. The whole thing had been for their benefit and not mine. No one had cared that Celia and I barely knew each other and certainly weren’t in love. All they saw was the crown.
“You’re very lucky,” Celia said to Jessa, gesturing to me with the lift of her white-gloved hand. Her dress matched, accentuating her auburn hair. “I hope he doesn’t drop you as quickly as he did me. He is such a fickle man, I’ve discovered.”
“Celia,” Sabine said low, her tone thorny. “Please, dear, none of that tonight.” She wore a regal black number and was just as done-up as her daughter. She struck me as the kind of woman who agreed with the old adage that revenge was a dish best served cold.
“The girl does have a point,” Mark said, glaring at me behind his thick lashes. I supposed that was what fathers were supposed to do when their daughters got dumped. “I believe Celia is owed an explanation.”
Jessa tensed under my arm as silence spread through the room, both of us knowing the conversation had begun to travel. I inwardly groaned. Most of these guests would do anything to be privy to a royal scandal.
“It’s fine,” Celia chirped and looked away, her cheeks flaring red.
Jessa’s body was still tense as stone when she spoke. “I completely agree with you, Sir.” She nodded toward Mark. “Lucas does owe your daughter an explanation.”
Heat prickled up the back of my neck, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
“Honey, why don’t you dance with Celia and explain it to her?” Jessa purred, smiling at me. She was the picture of the blushing bride-to-be and I froze. Her eyes were flush with indignation. She wanted me to suffer in the hands of Celia and her family.
My jaw clicked as I held her stare, each of us urging the other to be the first to look away. The first to stand down. Fine, if that’s how she wants to play it.
“Sure.” I nodded, meeting her challenge, and turning a devilish grin on Celia. “I’d be happy to dance with Celia and have a little chat about what went wrong. I do need a chance to apologize.”
“But what will you do?” I asked Jessa. I wanted to be the one to walk her back to her room.
She laughed. “Don’t be silly, I have other friends.” Then she slipped from my arm, spun on her heel, and joined a group of alchemists I’d seen her with a few times before
, two teen girls and a boy. They walked off together and immediate worry replaced my frustration. I needed to get to know these alchemists and decide for myself how much they really cared about Jessa. If there was one thing I’d learned during my eighteen years in this palace, people usually weren’t what they seemed.
I reached out my hand, and Celia placed her cold fingers in mine. We strolled to the dance floor. She gripped my knuckles so tightly that I assumed she was seething mad. She didn’t want to dance with me just as much as I didn’t want to dance with her. And her father, well, he would have punched me straight in the face if I wasn’t the prince. But it was her mother I needed to watch out for. She was still scheming, still plotting, I was sure of it.
“You don’t have to pretend to care about me,” Celia said as I brought her into my arms.
“Good,” I replied, flat, “because I don’t.”
She let out a huff and narrowed her eyes. “Wow, Lucas, tell me how you really feel.”
I was fed up with the games and didn’t need this.
“Fine.” I shrugged. “I really feel like you’re a social-climbing, gold-digging, crown-obsessed socialite who cares less about me than I care about you. Don’t pretend like you’re heartbroken; this is all about the status and we both know it. But I am sorry if your feelings are hurt, whatever those may be.”
“I can’t believe you,” she growled, her voice hushed. “You think you’re the only one who has powerful parents, huh? Did you ever stop to think that I was also pushed into our engagement?”
Pushed into an engagement with the prince? She’d run right into it. She wanted it, and now she wanted to play the victim.
To what end?
I paused and studied her face, searching for any sign of truth to her words. People danced around us, the orchestra playing a waltz anyone of high birth would know well. As we moved around the room, tears had formed in her eyes, and her cheeks were twice as red as they were only moments before. Her feelings could be boiled down to embarrassment, but that was nothing like heartbreak. I knew heartbreak inside and out these days.
But still, a pang of guilt lingered.
“Okay fine.” I sighed. “Maybe I’m being too hard on you. But try to understand, I was already in love with Jessa when I met you. I didn’t have a choice about you—that was all my father. What would you have done in my situation?”
Her brow rose. “Fair enough,” she grumbled, “but you could have at least warned me, or broken it off with me yourself. For heaven’s sakes, Lucas! Not only did you ignore me during that entire attack, but you got engaged to another woman without even breaking it off from me. I had to hear it from your father. How do you think that felt?”
“I’m sorry. But, it’s done now.”
“It sure is.” She dropped her eyes and turned away, a curl whipping through the air between us.
By now, the crowd of dancing couples around us were doing little to hide their gawking expressions and wide eyes. A flurry of whispers circled the room as the gossip spread like wildfire. The phenomenon wasn’t unusual for me, but it had to be far worse for Celia. Maybe I really had mistreated her.
But if she wanted me for me, she wouldn’t have offered Jessa the opportunity to be my mistress. That was proof enough that she put the crown before the person actually wearing it.
I was done playing into the manipulations of her family. However it had happened, I was over it. I had my own life to sort out.
“You should go home now.” I dropped my arms and stepped back. “There’s no need for you to stick around the palace.”
She shook her head, a sickly smile creeping across her crimson lips that bore a striking resemblance to her mother.
“Oh, you hadn’t heard?” She cocked her head to the side. “I’m staying in the palace until further notice. The King wants me and my parents to help with the exhibitions, among other things.”
“What other things?”
She leaned forward and whispered in my ear, the movement sudden. “You and your little girlfriend better watch your backs, Lucas, because we certainly are.”
Was that a threat? I shook her off and glared down at her. “She’s not my girlfriend, she’s my fiancé, and soon, she’ll be your queen.”
Her face fell, the color washing away. I turned briskly and strode away.
They were “watching us”, huh? I wasn’t even surprised; already Sabine and Mark had jobs with my father that went far beyond what they told the rest of the kingdom.
Obviously, some kind of undercover operation. They could watch me all they liked but they had no idea who they were dealing with. It was them who should be watching their backs. They might be working for my father, but I was working for myself, and I wasn’t going down without a fight.
The echo of my shoes filled the musty stairwell as I descended to the prison. I stalked down the dimly lit hallway, noting the guard and an officer leaning against the wall. They jumped up when they saw me, bowing low.
“I want to talk to her alone,” I said gruffly to the two bleary-eyed officers. They blinked rapidly, probably because they were bored out of their minds and fighting sleep, until I interrupted them. I’d chosen to come down here in the middle of the night on purpose. Anyone with a vested interest in Sasha was presumably asleep.
“Uh, I’m not sure you’re authorized to go in there alone, Sir.” One of the officers stared at me and scratched at his stubbly neck, his young eyes squinting. Good, I’m glad they put one of the younger guys down here; they were always the easiest to manipulate.
“It’s Your Highness, not Sir,” I snapped. “I’m the prince, what more authorization do you need? If you’d like me to drag my father down here in the middle of the night, I’ll do it. He’ll be raging mad, but I don’t care, I need to talk to that traitor now.”
“Of course. Please forgive me.” The other officer nodded to his cohort who unlocked the door with a quick flick of his wrist. The keys moved in and out of his pocket in a flash, and I smiled.
“Thank you,” I said. “I won’t be long.”
I slid into the darkened room. Sasha lay fast asleep on a cot. No blanket, just her legs tucked up against her body. Her face was bruised and swollen, as I was sure the rest of her was as well.
Why though?
We’d gotten to the Resistance camp and torn it to shreds looking for evidence. But maybe because it had been empty, Faulk thought it fair to continue punishing Sasha. Not getting what she’d wanted had warranted another beating, knowing Faulk. Shame burned in the back of my throat, and I loudly cleared it, the abrupt rumble filling the small gray cell.
Sasha stirred, rolling over. I pushed up the solo chair and sat down to face her.
“We need to talk,” I said quietly. I pulled a blue stone from my pocket and slid it into her palm. She knew what to do. She’d used blue alchemy as a means to keep our conversations private before.
She blinked a few times and sat up. “Water,” she croaked. She sounded so broken, her voice so scratchy that it was jarring. This wasn’t the Sasha I knew. My spine stiffened. What had they done to her?
“I’ll get you some water as soon as we’re done,” I said. “I promise.”
Her eyes narrowed as she focused on me. It was mostly dark, but I could still make out the mistrust that shone in her searching eyes. After a moment, she nodded, the stone hidden in her hand working its magic.
“We have to be quick,” I continued. “I wanted to run something by you.”
“What do you want?” She leaned back against the wall and rubbed one of the bruises on her jaw, then winced.
“I want to help you,” I whispered, my voice low.
She laughed, a desperate sound.
“I’m serious. I want to get you out of here.”
“Why should I believe you?” She glared beneath the shadows. “Jessa told me what you did. This is your fault. Years of hard work and planning were wasted because you had to tattle to your daddy.” She punctuated her words with the q
uick flick of her wrist. “I’m not doing a thing for you.”
Guilt ripped through me, but I forced myself to stay calm. Now wasn’t the time to hash out the details of that night.
I shook my head. “Who else do you have? Getting a lot of offers for help in here, are you?”
She paused and looked me up and down. I could feel her distain for me, hear it in every word she uttered. “Why should I believe you? Why should I even trust you? You know, I could tell them your secret. Did you ever stop to think about that?”
I had. Which was a big part of why I was here in the first place.
“Look,” I said, “if you stay here, Faulk will kill you. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually, it will happen.”
“Jessa will stop her. She’ll figure something out.” She leaned back against the wall, pulled her legs up against her chest, and closed her eyes. Even in the darkness, I could make out a rip in the knee. Her flesh shone in the dark, scraped and bloodied.
“Do you really believe that?” I scoffed, exasperated. “Christopher is staying upstairs. All the other alchemists, too. You’re the only one Faulk has to beat on at the moment, in case you didn’t know.”
“You think I like this?” she hissed. “That psycho keeps having them heal me only to hurt me again. She’s sick. I already told them everything thanks to that ridiculously emotional sister of mine.”
I needed to change tactics.
“They got out.” I leaned back in the chair and crossed my arms over my chest. “The people at your camp. They got out.”
She chuckled, a coy smile filled her face, and for the first time I caught a glimpse of the Sasha I remembered. “Where’d they go? Are they okay?”
“West America,” I said. “That’s all we’ve been able to figure out so far. As you can imagine, Faulk and my father are pretty angry about the whole thing. I think they’re taking it out on you.” I smirked, despite my better judgment.
I expected her to punch me or something, but she didn’t.
She grinned even wider. “Let them. I don’t care anymore. I’m just glad those people got out. Now the alchemists here on the other hand, they’re complete idiots for giving in to him so quickly.”