by James Tate
Actually, the screw around guys were often the only guys I went near—I didn’t have to worry about them wanting anything more than one night of hot, sweaty sex where neither of us even knew the other’s name. That was how I kept anyone from discovering my secrets—secrets that could not only get me killed, but other people I cared greatly about.
I’d made it to eighteen by following my rules and playing it safe. There was one truth though—staying alive required knowledge. Right now I was wandering around without a clue of the dangers surrounding me, with no understanding of this new world I’d found myself in.
And it was a dangerous world; only a moron wouldn’t expect it to be survival of the strongest in this school. Politics, royals, and sports. Fuck. This was probably more dangerous than the few skirmish zones that the monarchies hadn’t been able to get under control since the Monarch War.
Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration. But it wasn’t going to be fun and games, that was for sure.
Seeing the time, I let out a low screech and dropped my towel as I hurried into the closet to choose from the mass of clothes provided by the school. I grabbed the first underwear set my hands touched, and they turned out to be black and lacy, the bra cut low on my breasts and panties high on my ass. The thought that someone had picked out underwear for me was weird as heck, but I couldn’t be choosy. At least everything seemed new. And it fit … Somehow they knew my sizes?
Next was a pair of tight jeans, black with fashionable fading across the thighs. When I moved to the shirts, I thought about the weather and decided on a white undershirt, long sleeved and maybe the softest thing I’d ever worn. Most clothing was created in labs, and the quality varied greatly. Growing up, the motto in my part of the world was: practical, not fashionable.
However, the rich and the royals apparently got superior quality lab-created clothing. This shit was next level, and I was going to steal it all when I left here.
Over the white shirt I added a vintage band shirt—because somehow they also knew I loved them—and a black jacket that hung down past my ass with huge buttons on the front that I could secure if the party was outside.
I grabbed some over-the-knee black boots with medium-sized heels to finish off the look, dropping them near the door to pull on after I finished my hair and makeup.
Twenty minutes later, I had reasonably straight hair, and I couldn’t get over how long it was when it wasn’t a mess of tangled curls. Thanks to a few pumps of the miracle balm, it was shiny and golden. With my makeup I went a little darker than usual, mostly because in my old life I had pressed powder, one eyeliner, one mascara, and a blue shadow. That was it. And I had to use it all so sparingly that I wore it only on occasion.
Did these people even know that it was hard to buy makeup now? Even for the rich? I mean, nearly all resources since the war have gone into producing enough food to keep the world alive, and everything else was secondary. Makeup was way down the list, but it was around and I’d cherished my small stash.
A knock at the door came just as I started to line my eyes, and I cursed as I drew across my cheek. The clock told me that Alex was early, and I grabbed a tissue to dab at the spot I’d drawn while running to open the door.
Taking a deep breath, I yanked it open, then blinked at the sight of someone who was definitely not a tall, golden, surf-god.
“Mattie,” I said, surprise coloring my words. “Shit. Did I forget we were meeting?”
I hadn’t forgotten anything, but I didn’t know how to ask what she was doing here without sounding rude as fuck. And since she was one of the nicer people I’d met today, I’d like not to piss her off just yet.
Her large hazel eyes, the green so dark it was like the forest at midnight, perused me slowly. “You clean up nicely, new girl,” she said, flashing that perfect smile in my direction.
New girl was better than orphan at least.
Without waiting for an invite, she pushed her way into my room. Her heels, at least twice the height of the boots I’d picked out to wear, were silent as she crossed my floor.
Immediately I felt like a poor, underdressed loser. She looked spectacular. Her purple minidress skimmed her curves, stopping just below her ass. It was rich and shiny, like it had been made from the contraband silk, shot through with gold. The heels I’d admired were also gold, wrapping around her slender feet and up her calves. She had on a white, fluffy coat that made the red of her hair stand out starkly. That style of coat would have made me look like I was wearing a polar bear, but not Mattie … she looked like she should be a model not a college student.
Dropping onto my bed, she leaned back, tilting her head to the side as she stared at me. “I heard that Alex invited you tonight,” she said without preamble, and I was starting to understand that she was both blunt and honest.
I liked that.
“Yep, I ran into him on the soccer field—or more like his ball almost ran into my face—and we got to chatting. He seems nice.”
Her lips twitched. “For a prince, he’s okay.”
I choked on air, spluttering as I stared at her. “Prince?”
Fuck. Seriously. Fuck off with that.
Mattie shook her head, sitting a little straighter, elegantly crossing her long legs. “Yeah, Prince Alex of the Australasias.”
Great, not only was he a prince, he was from one of the four superpower monarchies. “What’s his game?” I asked with a sigh, dropping down next to her. I decided I might as well be as honest as she was, and while I had no fear of a physical attack from Alex—he was nothing I couldn’t handle—there was a lot of other shit he could drop on me. I wanted to be prepared. “I mean, the charity-case scholarship winner is not really going to be on a prince’s radar, right?”
Princess Ballot. Fucker was living up to its name.
Mattie cleared her throat. “Crown prince at that.”
Great. Even better.
She hurried on. “Don’t stress on it. We’re royals, but that doesn’t automatically make us horrible people. I might be a princess of some small obscure nation, but thankfully my twin is the crown prince, and that means I’m at Arbon to have some fun.” Her lips quirked up. “For some reason, new girl, you look like my type of fun.”
Her eyes caressed me in a not totally platonic stare.
“I’m straight,” I said, not at all offended, shooting her back the same half smile.
Mattie threw her head back and laughed. “I’m not totally straight and neither is my brother, but that’s not the sort of fun I’m talking about. I meant that you’re real. And after everything that happened last year, I’m all about real these days.”
I personally had no idea what had happened last year but sensed that I should wait for her to tell me that story, so for now I just accepted that this might be that friend I was looking for. A princess and everything. She would have all the deets.
“Rafe?” I asked, needing to know. “What’s up with Alex and him?”
Mattie’s smile fell, and she shook her head. “I’d advise you not to get between those two. Their rivalry has been strong since last year—personal shit you don’t even want to know about between them. They’re in their fourth and final years now, and I swear their aim is for one of them to end up dead before this year is out.”
I swallowed hard. That didn’t sound good. “Is Rafe … a prince?”
Mattie shot me a sympathetic look. “You should have stayed off his radar.”
“Rafe’s?” I squeaked. “I didn’t do anything except catch the damn ball.”
She shook her head. “No … you should have stayed off Alex’s radar. Rafe is out to destroy him and he won’t let anything stand in his way. Rafe is dangerous, and for more than just the fact that he’s the leading center forward for the best college soccer team in the entire world and would go professional if he wasn’t a crown prince.” My eyes grew very wide. Crown prince. Fuck fuck fuck. “He’s dangerous in many ways,” Mattie continued, “and since I’m more than a littl
e sure we’re going to be great friends, I’ll make sure you avoid them as much as possible.”
I wanted to know more than anything what made Rafe extra dangerous. I thought about begging her to tell me more tonight, but again I held back.
I needed Mattie a hell of a lot more than she needed me. All in good time.
“So, what country is Rafe the prince of…”
I trailed off, and in my head I was begging her to say Burma or something in the lower end of the power scale.
I should have known better. The pieces were clicking together in my head, and I was already cursing my own stupidity.
“The Switzerlands,” she said softly. “Prince Rafael is the most powerful heir in the world.”
Well, fuck.
Chapter 5
Mattie fixed my makeup—she was about the most expert person I’d ever seen with this stuff, knowing what all the random bits and pieces were and exactly how to apply them. She put Meredith to shame, and I wished my friend could be here to learn with me. Though maybe she was safer back home.
“This is our war paint,” Mattie said, patient as ever as she gave me quick lessons on each piece. “You need it to hide the secrets and darkness.”
Not ominous at all.
Still, by the time she was done, I barely recognized myself. She’d gone dark and mysterious, with touches of green and gold eyeshadow that turned the blue of my eyes almost aqua. My cheekbones stood out with contouring and pink on the apple, and my lips were a dark velvety red.
“I think I need to change,” I said, gesturing to my jeans and band shirt combo. “I’m a little underdressed for how fancy my face is.”
Mattie gasped. “Don’t you dare. It’s so your style, and I think it’s like rock-chick glam. You look hot as fuck.”
Heat lanced through my cheeks; I wasn’t used to compliments. Everybody was too busy surviving back home to throw away careless praise over something like looks. Now, if I’d managed to invent an object that would make money or that could be traded for goods, then I’d have gotten all kinds of accolades. But looking hot… Nope.
“Thanks,” I finally said, feeling a little choked up. “I honestly didn’t expect to make any friends at Arbon,” I told her, wondering if I was screwing myself by spilling my fears. “I expected you’d all be snobby assholes and I’d spend the next four years hiding away, studying. Hopefully staying off everyone’s radar.”
Mattie snorted. “Girl, you’ve been here for five minutes, and I can already tell you’re going to be trouble.” Her expression sobered. “But your first instincts about this place were pretty accurate. There’s a lot going on that you don’t know about, and I hope you never find out. Don’t trust anyone, not at face value.”
I stared down at my nails. They were painted a dark purple, and I pretended to be extra fascinated by them. “Not even you?” I asked casually.
I couldn’t see her face, but I was sure she was staring at me just as hard as I watched those glittery fingertips. “I’ll let you be the judge of that,” she finally said. “I’m a good test run for this world. You need to learn fast, or you’ll be swept away.”
Before I could respond to that delightful truth, there was another knock on the door, this one heavier and more commanding than Mattie’s had been. My gaze flew up, meeting her challenging stare.
"Ready to jump in the deep end, new girl?" She cocked her head to the side, ignoring the second knock on my door and waiting for my answer. "Whether you sink or swim just depends on you."
I quirked a smile at her odd wisdom, but gave a short nod. Despite the butterflies in my belly because Alex—Prince Alex—was at my door, I had a good sense about Mattie. And she was right, I didn't want to get mixed up with royals. Not that way. I was getting an Arbon Academy degree, then getting the fuck out of the Switzerlands. Unmarried.
The knock came again, and Mattie stood up from my bed. "I got it."
Before I could object, she threw the door open and blocked the way with her body—tiny though it was.
"Mattie," a deep voice said, sounding surprised. "What are you—?"
"Violet changed her mind," she cut him off, and panic surged through me. What the fuck was she saying? That sounded so rude. She was going to piss off a crown prince on my first damn day. Not to mention Alex was nice, and so stinking hot, and... and...
...and a royal. A crown prince of one of the world’s super powers.
"Bullshit," Alex replied, calling Mattie's bluff. "Is she in there? Let me talk to her."
Mattie propped a manicured hand up on the door frame, making her point crystal clear. He wasn't coming into my room. "Why? So you can bat those baby blues at her and turn up the charm? Don't forget how well I know you, Alex." There seemed to be an underlying threat to her words, something that made me a little uneasy. But then again, maybe that was exhaustion and culture shock making me paranoid.
There was a pause, like they were having a staring competition or something, then Alex chuckled.
"Alright, Mattie. You win this round. But you can't run interference forever."
From where I sat, I couldn't see Alex. But I could see the side of Mattie's face, and I was startled to see her glare harden with something that looked damn near like hate. Or fear.
"Pick someone else, Alex. Violet doesn't want to get involved with royal drama."
Alex laughed again. "We'll see." There was a short pause. "You're looking good, Mattie. Guess I'll be seeing you at Drake's party."
Mattie didn’t reply, she just stepped back into my room and slammed the door in Alex's face. I thought. Unless he'd already walked away.
"What the fuck was that about?" I questioned when she turned back to me, her hands propped on her hips.
She shook her head, a small frown line creasing her brow. "Nothing," she said. "I've just held a grudge since he cut all the hair off my dolls when I was seven."
Liar. I could see the lie in her face.
"Okay," I replied, not pressing her for the real answer. It was obvious there was more going on, but I didn't want to rock the boat so early. Maybe she'd tell me when she knew me better. "So, are we still going to this party?"
A grin swept across her face, totally erasing any traces of her Alex-induced frown. "Of course we are. You don't think I just did your makeup to have it end up all over your pillow, do you?"
She snorted a laugh at herself before pointing out my coat with the large buttons. "You'll need that. Drake lives off campus."
* * *
When Mattie said "off campus," she really meant that he had a chalet in the small village farther down the mountain. It would have been about a twenty-minute walk, but with thick snow coating the sidewalk, I was glad when she stopped next to a large, shiny black truck waiting outside the dorms.
"This is Nolan," she told me, indicating to the guy behind the wheel as she held the door open for me. "Nole, meet Violet."
"New girl," the guy commented as I clambered up into the truck. The interior was all smooth black leather that screamed money, and the dash glittered with dials and buttons that meant absolutely nothing to me.
Seating myself, I buckled my seat belt on then shot the guy—Nolan—a sharp look. "I prefer Violet, thanks."
His green eyes stared back at me from the rearview mirror, then a broad smile spread across his face. "Fair enough then, Violet. You ready for your first Arbon party?"
There was something suspicious about the way he said that, and I shot Mattie an uncertain look. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
She shook her head, and cuffed Nolan in the back of his head. She'd slid into the back seat with me, leaving the front seat vacant. "He's messing with you, Vi. It's just a normal college party, except everyone has more money than some small countries and they act like it."
I snorted a laugh which was just this side of bitter. "Oh, well if that's all." Dread pooled in my stomach at the thought of what they'd do to the poor scholarship student. So far things hadn't been too bad, though.
Sure, Brandon was a typical ass... and Rafe...
A shudder ran through me remembering the rough start I'd already gotten off to with the Prince of the Switzerlands. Typical fucking me, pissing off one of the most powerful heirs in the entire freaking world without even knowing.
Still, Mattie was proving herself to be a genuinely nice person, and Alex had seemed interested in me despite my lack of status or money.
"Are we waiting for someone?" I asked, noticing we were still stationary.
Mattie grimaced, and Nolan nodded. He had red hair too, just a few shades darker than Mattie's, and a similar nose. Were they related? Was this her twin?
"I apologize in advance for my brother's shitty taste in friends," she whispered in a rush, right as the front passenger door opened and a dark-haired, broad-shouldered, scowling asshole hoisted himself inside.
"Thanks for the lift, Noles." His deep voice rumbled through the car, and without the edge of sneering disdain, I kinda loved the sound of it.
Until he glanced over his shoulder and saw me.
"Why is Cinderella in the car with us?" The condescension was so thick I practically fucking choked on it. Fuck this asshole. Who cared if he was the crown prince of the world’s most powerful country? No one had the right to treat other people like that. And really, could he be more of an arrogant prick, plucking his insult from ancient fairy tales?
My eyes narrowed into a death glare, and a venom-filled comeback burned on the tip of my tongue. Too bad Mattie gripped my arm tightly, her nails digging into my skin with a crystal clear warning to keep my mouth shut.
"Because she's my friend, Rafe, and its my brother’s car, so you get no say over who is in it." Her tone was only slightly less cutting than it'd been with Alex earlier.
Prince Rafael just gave her a bored look, then shifted his sneer back to me. "Don't tell me your date stood you up. Maybe Alex actually grew some brain cells after all."