Lamps and Lies

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Lamps and Lies Page 3

by Laura Greenwood

"Maybe my beauty is only skin deep?" I tease, though I'm already worrying about the kind of questions he'll be asking me as he attempts to get to know me. I'm suddenly realising how little I've thought through my whole plan. For someone to fall for me enough to forgive the fact I'm not a Princess, they're going to have to get to know me. Even fall for me. But to do that, I have to be honest about myself with them. Which I can't be.

  This is a mess.

  "I doubt that," he responds, his eyes sparkling with something I can't name, but find myself enjoying immensely.

  I'm in so much trouble, and I don't even mean to be.

  A rap on the board at the front of class draws our attention.

  "Good morning class," Professor Delaney says.

  "Good morning, Professor," a few of the students say back. It's not enough to fill the room with sound, but it makes the Professor smile nonetheless. At least she's one of the ones who is easily pleased with a few students finding her subject interesting. Perhaps she knows it isn't a subject for everyone. Some of the other teachers at the academy could learn a thing or two from her about that. Surely it's better to have a few people interested than force everyone to act as if they are, only to turn off the few who would have liked to learn more?

  "Today we'll be studying the ancient languages of the Northern Territories," he announces.

  A groan comes from my left. No doubt it's one of the students from that area. This always happens when we change areas. Someone who knows it already gets bored. I don't blame them. If I had any kind of education, then I'm sure I'd feel the same.

  She starts talking about all kinds of things, including the way early letters are formed and used.

  "I'm lost already," Enver mutters under his breath.

  I suppress a small laugh. I'm not surprised by that. Not only is it not the most interesting topic, but he's been thrown in the deep end with starting this class when he has.

  "Do you speak any of the Northern languages?" I ask quietly.

  He shakes his head.

  "That's a pity. I've been told it's easier if you do."

  It's not something I know for sure, I only speak my own language and the Common Tongue they use here. And the latter one is something I've had to learn quickly. The genie has been helping, as usual. I'm grateful for his help. and that it seems as if I have a fairly good aptitude for languages. I haven't even had to use the pretend excuse that my fake-Father never let me learn.

  "We can study together, if you'd like?" I offer, cursing myself for it even as the words are out of my mouth. I'm supposed to be putting Enver off spending more time with me, not making it impossible for him to avoid me instead.

  Fatin turns around in her chair, apparently having heard me. "A study session?" she asks. "I could do with one of those."

  Great. Even more of a reason to regret my offer.

  I flash her a fake smile, trying to make sense of why she's suddenly decided she wants to befriend me after all the time she's spent being awful to me. I'm sure the handsome Prince next to me has some influence on that. She did say that she wanted him as her consort of choice.

  Unfortunately.

  "We should make a thing of it," I say brightly to cover up my discomfort. "If that's alright with His Majesty?" I turn to check with Enver.

  "Princess Alyeesah?" Professor Delaney calls. She's one of the professors who does like to use our titles. Perhaps because they have roots in ancient languages and she believes it's a good learning opportunity. Huh. It turns out I have learned something after all. It's a shame I had to get caught talking to find out.

  "Yes, Professor?" I answer sweetly.

  "What is more important than listening to the lesson?" She raises her eyebrow.

  "Nothing, Professor. We were just organising a study session after class so we can make the most of what we've learned," I lie smoothly, though I suppose now I think about it, that's exactly what we were doing. It seems I've lied so much that I can't tell the difference between fact and fiction any more.

  She purses her lips, clearly unsure whether or not to believe me.

  "It's true, Professor," Enver says in his smooth princely voice. "I was asking Princess Alyeesah if she could help me catch up on the lessons I've missed. I'm new." He flashes her a winning smile, and even if I know he's not being completely truthful, I'm won over.

  "In which case, my gratitude, Princess Alyeesah." Her tight smile says it all. She doesn't believe us, but we're both royal and there's only so much she can do about us not listening to her.

  I dip my head into a nod of respect.

  When she starts lecturing again, I pay attention, jotting down the notes I'll need for later. I may not enjoy the subject matter, but that doesn't mean I'm not trying to do well. And if I have to help Enver catch up, then I need to learn as much as I can in the first place.

  "Thank you," Enver whispers after ten minutes of rapt attention.

  "For what?" I'm genuinely not sure what he's grateful for.

  "For helping me."

  "Oh, of course. Anything for a fellow student." Lies, lies, lies. It's all I trade in. And here I am telling more of them. I wouldn't do this for just anyone. I'm only talking to him during class and risking my record because I've set my sights on him.

  "I truly appreciate it. Do you wish to have dinner? As a thank you?" he asks, earnestness written all over his face.

  I freeze. Is he really asking me that? Anyone who sees us eating together will think we're courting. Does he realise that? I find it hard to imagine he doesn't.

  "Yes." The word slips from my lips without thinking.

  And for once, it isn't a lie.

  "Excellent." A boyish smile lights up his face, reminding me that he's likely only eighteen like the rest of us in this class. Sometimes, it's easy to forget that with all the royals and nobles around. "Do you know of anywhere?" he asks.

  "There's a food hall in town that's supposed to be nice," I whisper. "We could go there?"

  He nods. "That sounds divine. Tonight?"

  I think for a moment, is it wise to say yes and make it seem like I don't have a life?

  "Yes. Tonight would be lovely." Yet another truth. If I'm not careful, telling the truth is going to become a habit.

  Chapter Four

  The genie sits on my bed, watching me with amusement as I try to work out what to wear tonight. Nothing in my wardrobe is right, and the options are now strewn over the bed in a heap. I'll put them away long before the maids get here. I don't want to cause them more work just because I'm messy. Maybe it doesn't fit with the persona I'm supposed to have, but in this case, I don't care.

  "Why did I say yes?" I ask myself.

  The genie chuckles. "Because you've been interested in this young man ever since he showed up here."

  I turn on my heels and stare at him. "How do you know that?"

  "You say his name in your sleep."

  A furious blush roars to my cheeks. "I do not," I protest. "And why are you watching me sleep, anyway?"

  The genie shrugs. "I get bored sometimes."

  "I didn't realise you could leave the ring without me twisting it." Even as I'm saying it, I realise that hardly matters. It's not like I don't let him out as often as I can anyway.

  "I can do a great many things you're not aware of," he counters, sounding rather bored.

  "Can you fix me something to wear?" I mutter.

  "That's what you wish to use your second wish on?" He raises an eyebrow, seemingly confused by my question. I suppose I've never really made any indication of what I want my remaining two wishes to be.

  Is this the wise thing to do? Deep down, I know it isn't. But I want to make a good impression on Enver. One that has nothing to do with him thinking I'm a rich Princess from the East.

  I take a deep breath. "I'd like the perfect outfit to help me impress a Prince."

  "I have to say that's one of the most terrible wishes I've ever witnessed."

  "Thanks," I mutter.

  "What's
your third wish going to be? Wishing me free of the ring?" He gives a bitter laugh, as if he doesn't believe I'm capable of something like that. I'd be hurt if I didn't have the impression that the genie hasn't had the best life.

  My heart pounds a mile a minute. How did he figure that one out? I've never mentioned my plans to him, but ever since his appearance, that's always been my intention.

  Shock flits over his face. "That was your wish?"

  "Of course," I whisper. "That was always the plan." It's not even a lie, for a change.

  His whole demeanour softens, and he stares at me with a surprising amount of affection in his eyes. "I'm flattered, but that isn't possible," he tells me. "It happened to a genie once and then someone put a failsafe in the next time one of us was created."

  My mouth drops open. "But that's barbaric. Is there some other way to free you?" I search my mind for any idea that may help him, but come up with nothing. Probably because I'm not at all educated in magical artifacts. Or at all, but that's beside the point.

  He shrugs. "Not one that I know. Maybe there's another genie who does..."

  "I'm sorry I can't help you," I whisper, guilt filling me as a result. I used his powers to get me the status of a Princess with the intention of returning the favour once I'm settled in the life I want. And now I'm learning that's not possible. I'm not sure how to deal with that. "Is there some research we can do? Someone we can go to for answers?" There has to be a way to save him. I don't want the person who changed my life for the better to suffer for the rest of his.

  The genie waves away my concerns, but to me, it isn't as simple as that.

  "It isn't important, Aly. I've had hundreds of years to get used to it." He pauses and sizes me up. "You didn't say wish."

  I sigh. I guess that conversation is over. "I wish I had an outfit that would impress a Prince." Even as I'm saying it, I can't help but think how frivolous the wish is. But I can't see what else I can do with it. It's been months, and I've never really thought about using it.

  I suppose it's no worse than wishing to be a Princess in the first place.

  I scowl at myself, but then fix my expression, like I've learned to do. Being a Princess isn't just about looking the part, I have to act it too. That's something the genie taught me early on, and I'm glad he did. I would have been caught already without his help.

  A pang of sadness threads its way through me at the knowledge I can't free him, even if I want to.

  He snaps his fingers and his magical mist swirls around me, changing my admittedly already fancy day dress into something far more suited to going to dinner with a Prince. I can feel layers of heavily embroidered fabric and jewels settle on me, the main dress a beautiful bright pink. It may look garish on some people, but with my skin tone, I know it'll look beautiful.

  My dark hair falls in curls down my back, and I can feel more jewels weaved into it too. I reach up to touch one of them. "Thank you," I say to the genie.

  "You're welcome." He shrugs, but I can tell he appreciates my gratitude.

  It doesn't escape my notice that he's gone further than I asked him to. And not just with this dress either, but with my original Princess wish. If I'm not mistaken, then he likes me.

  Before I can say anything else, he disappears back into the ring. I wish he didn't feel like he had to hide in there all the time, but I'm not sure what else he can do, especially if he wants to come with me while I do things. It's the ring, or stay in my room and potentially freak out the servants who come in to tend to the fire.

  It won't be this way forever. So it turns out that I can't wish him free. That's fine. I'll simply find another way to achieve the same goal. No matter what happens, when this is all over, the genie will be a free man. Or spirit. Whatever he is. He's never told me. But getting him free of the bondage of the ring will be my thanks for the chances he's given me.

  But first, dinner. I don't want to mess this up, not when I could befriend Enver and get him to introduce me to someone from the lesser nobility who I can make fall in love with me to the point where he doesn't care I'm a homeless fraud.

  Even as I'm thinking it, I realise that's not what I want to happen at this meal. I want Enver to be the one who falls for me. And even knowing I shouldn't let that happen isn't enough for me to avoid the dinner.

  Matters of my heart aren't going to be as easy to solve as making a wish from a genie.

  Chapter Five

  The atmosphere in the food hall is surprisingly intimate given the number of people in here. If I'd realised, I maybe wouldn't have suggested it. But I rarely leave the castle. Even if my coin fund replenishes thanks to the genie's magic, I'm still reluctant to spend it if I don't have to. Some habits are virtually impossible to put a stop to, it seems.

  I laugh and lean over to touch his hand, before remembering what I'm actually trying to do here and pulling it back. It's far too easy to forget that I'm supposed to be making Enver into my friend, not someone to court. But he's too easy to get on with for me to be able to keep that at the front of my mind. Something about him makes me want to spend more time with him one-on-one.

  Which is worrying, as I can see myself falling for him if I'm not careful.

  "What do you think of Grimm so far?" I ask. I wonder if I can wish to not fall in love. Somehow, I doubt that's something the genie is capable of. And even if it is, I want to keep the last wish in case I can figure out how to free him.

  Enver shrugs. "It's better than the last academy my father sent me to." He grimaces as if recalling something unpleasant.

  There are other academies? I suppose it makes sense that there are. I won't have heard about most of them while scouting out the market, especially if they aren't as new as Grimm is.

  My shock must have shown on my face, as he flashes me a reassuring smile.

  "It was one of the ones in the East. There were a lot of rules. This certainly wouldn't have been allowed." He gestures between the two of us.

  I wince at the thought of strict rules. They'd make an already challenging situation harder for me. It'd be virtually impossible for me to find someone to court if I wasn't allowed to talk to male students. I'm sure for some of the others, the rules at Grimm are unnecessarily strict, but to me, they're not as bad as I expected them to be.

  "How come he changed his mind about where you go?" I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me. I suppose it does help to keep the conversation on him.

  Enver chuckles. "Father didn't like the fact I hadn't gotten a princess to agree to marry me yet."

  I almost spit out my tea, before reminding myself that's not a very dignified way to act. "Was he that blunt about it?"

  For Enver's sake, I hope not. What an awful thing for anyone to say to his son.

  "Oh definitely not. But I could tell from the way he looked at me whenever he asked if there was a letter he should address to some poor girl's father. I once considered making up a princess just to get him off my back for a bit."

  Guilt floods through me. Isn't that what I am? A made-up princess who is only in it for my own gain? He doesn't know that, but maybe if I'd been at his old academy, we could have helped one another with our goals.

  Seems unlikely. He'll turn his back on me along with all the other royals and nobles as soon as he learns the truth. Not for the first time, I find myself wishing I'd never decided to play this game in the first place. It's far too dangerous.

  "Why didn't you?" I fold my hands onto my knee to stop myself from reaching out to touch him.

  "I never found a girl I liked well enough." The earnestness in his eyes as he looks at me sends my heart into a flutter. Is he suggesting he likes me enough?

  No. That's not it. We haven't known one another long enough, for a start. And I need to forget silly notions like falling in love. This is just a dinner to say thank you for helping him in class.

  "Would you like some more tea?" a serving girl asks, pulling me out of my dangerous thought spiral.

  "That would be love
ly, please," Enver responds. "And perhaps some stuffed dates if you have them?"

  The girl nods and dips into a small curtsy before disappearing back in the direction of the kitchen. She doesn't know that we're royalty, but is probably used to students from the academy coming here, and that means plenty of people of status. From what I've seen, it's better to be safe than sorry when it comes to people of this social class. Most of them are fairly relaxed and willing to let the occasional social faux pas slide. It's the ones that aren't so forgiving that have to be looked out for. They're quick to anger, and slow to calm. Which makes what I'm trying to do even more foolhardy.

  She brings back the tea moments later and sets it down, following it with a tray of stuffed dates and other almond paste sweets. I lick my lips, looking forward to tasting all this place has to offer.

  "Have you tried these before?" Enver asks.

  "Some of them," I answer honestly. Though I shouldn't mention how I tried them. I don't think he'll take kindly to the idea of me stealing sweet treats off the carts of unsuspecting tradesmen at the market. It isn't a very ladylike thing to do. Or very fair. If I succeed in my quest to find someone well off and who loves me for me, then I'll be going back to the market I used to live in and make sure I give extra to the merchants I used to take from.

  "Which haven't you tried?" he asks, bringing me back to the tray of sweets in front of me.

  I point to one of the flaky pastries drenched in honey and sprinkled with nuts. My mouth waters just from looking at it.

  "Excellent choice," he observes, picking it up and placing it on his plate. I watch with rapt attention as he cuts it in half and offers me some of it.

  "Thank you." The honey sticks to my fingers, but I don't care. The closer it gets to my mouth, the more tantalising the smell is. I pop it in and chew, closing my eyes so I could better savour the taste explosion happening there.

  Once I'm done, I lick the honey off my fingers, making the most of the last dregs of pleasure. There should be warning labels on food like this.

  Enver pours me a steamy cup of mint tea.

 

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