I’d love to hear the story behind that.
“Ruby, as I said, is not…well. She’s nice enough but is like a child. Socially awkward. She’s usually wandering around the palace. Don’t say the word ‘pot’ around her. For some reason it causes her to, how do you commoners say it? Freak out?”
She couldn’t help but laugh at his attempt to use common slang. He only scoffed and kept going.
“Chrysander is the one with the goatee. Twenty-eight and currently engaged to Topaz. You will meet her later.” Prince Cassian coughed. “Last is Zoisite. She’s about ten years old.”
Even bug eyed couldn’t describe Memory as she jumped out of her seat. “That little girl with the fluffy dress? She’s your aunt?!”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You should know this from high school. Tell me, how exactly did you graduate?”
“Ten? TEN?”
“Queen Beryl had children into her late fifties.”
“Still.” Memory sputtered. “You have an aunt that’s eleven years younger than you. Doesn’t that worry you?”
“No. She’s quite the spitfire.” Standing up, he bid her goodbye, amused that she was still shocked and left. Memory still stood in the study area.
“TEN!”
This time, she listened to Prince Cassian’s orders and stayed inside the room. And there was a lot to do.
She watched all the movies she wanted, and even picked up a book at one point. She twirled around, wondering when she’d get her crown and slept as much as she could. She didn’t join the family for dinner any longer, and no one said anything, so she stayed cooped up in the room. And quite frankly, she was happy with it.
Until Diana said that she had to resume her studies, which were online. So instead of watching the nest episode of her favorite show, she had to listen to lecture after lecture on theoretical physics and the applications of mathematics. Which made her fall asleep more than once.
So after nearly fourteen days of being a hermit, she had nothing to do but go outside her room again. Diana was nowhere to be seen so Memory left wearing the shirt and shorts she’d brought from Whecombe Pass.
The halls were quiet. Since she’d only been in the halls twice (one going to that blasted dinner, another coming back from it), confusion wasn’t a stranger. She wandered from door to door, hoping to hear anything interesting, but when there was nothing but silence she went to the next. It was when she hit the last door at the very end of the hall–which was open–when she saw something interesting.
She knocked, but when no one answered, she pushed it open wider. It revealed a sickly woman lying down on a bed, yelling orders at maids who were rushing around the room following them the best they could.
“You!” The old, sick woman pointed at a small girl in the corner. “Get some flowers! Ugh, this room smells horrible.”
It was then her eyes landed on Memory. And they instantly widened.
“Stop!” She cried. All the maids froze. Her sickly hand unraveled a finger towards Memory. “Come.”
Memory pointed at herself, eyebrows raised. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” The woman coughed. All that yelling couldn’t be good for her. “Your name?”
“Um. I’m Jade. Are…” Memory’s heart pounded so loud she was sure everyone could hear it. “Are you my grandmother?”
The old woman tried to smile but start coughing. One maid rushed to her, helping her sip some water, and then curtsied to Memory as she left.
Memory didn’t ask for permission as she sat down. She’d never met her grandparents, but if she did, she was pretty sure they’d look like this.
Queen Beryl was small. Extremely small. Her hands were smaller than Memory’s fists. Her hair was nonexistent, and her eyes looked thin because of the wrinkled skin around them. Memory couldn’t spot her lips, either, just a slit where the mouth was supposed to be. And there weren’t any teeth except for a single golden canine.
She’s kinda adorable.
“How can you sit down without asking me, Jade?”
Memory shot up. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t think.”
The old woman chuckled. “You may sit down.”
That was pointless, she thought bitterly as she sat down, watching her.
“Why did you not visit me earlier?” Queen Beryl asked in a hoarse voice. “I heard of your return. Yet you did not come.”
After moments of wracking her brain for a good excuse, she came up with just the perfect one.
“My brother wouldn’t let me. He thought I was sick from traveling so I stayed in my room.”
“I see.” She reached out and took Memory’s rough hands in hers, gripping them tightly. “You do not have the hands of a princess.”
Paling, Memory laughed nervously. “Yeah. Um.”
“That is to be expected. You did not grow up here, unfortunately.” Queen Beryl touched her face, letting her fingertips stroke her cheek. “But I do think you can recover. You were always stubborn, Jade.”
“Did you miss me?” Memory said, trying to turn the conversation around when she realized it was a question too forward to ask the king’s mother. “I mean…”
“No, it is alright. The bluntness is to be expected.” Queen Beryl croaked. “I do not miss people. It is not queenly.” She paused. “But I did yearn for your presence, yes.”
“Well, I hope my dear brothers kept you company while I was gone. They can be dull, I know.” Memory joked. “But they’re good people–”
“They are not.” Queen Beryl said firmly. “Men. Evil and power hungry, that is all they are.”
There was no way she could respond to that in a way that wouldn’t get her kicked out, so Memory just smiled.
“Yeah. They can be weird.”
Queen Beryl started coughing, and Memory lunged for the glass of water on the nightstand next to her before the maid could and helped the old woman drink every last drop. When she was done, she patted her hand gratefully.
“I must sleep. Go, Jade.”
Memory knew she was supposed to be doing something to make the queen love her, which was the point of this scheme, so in an effort to make an impression, she leaned forward and kissed Queen Beryl on the forehead. As expected, she looked horrified. Memory shrugged.
“That’s what I did to the people who took care of me every night.” She explained. “Sorry if it makes you feel uncomfortable.”
“N-no.” Queen Beryl smiled although Memory knew it was out of pain. “Leave me be.”
Nodding, Memory left, wondering if that kiss had done more harm than good.
She was on her way back to her room when Diana burst out, huffing.
“There you are!” She exclaimed, out of breath. “I thought I had lost you!”
Here we go again. “Diana, I’m…um, well I’m going to explore the palace.”
“Nonsense! Not without me you won’t. Or a guard. Would you like to call–”
Unable to stand an additional second in her presence, Memory dashed off, running towards the elevator. Diana shouted at her but Memory waved at her with a wide smile as the doors shut.
Her room was on the second floor, while the males’ rooms were on the first. The underground levels would take her to the main building, but Diana would already suspect her to be there. And for an old woman, she was crazily athletic. She’d probably make it down the stairs and to the parlor minutes before Memory did through the underground stairway.
First floor it is.
The first floor was exactly like the second, with wide hallways and gold and red furnishings. Except, at that moment, one of the double doors on the right opened and a half-clothed Edward walked out.
And he shrieked.
Memory whipped around, laughing. The crown prince, shrieking? Why didn’t I come here before?
“Jade.” He started in a serious voice, pretending he hadn’t been shrieking like a little girl. “I do not know if you are aware, but females are forbidden–”
“Is there a pr
oblem–oh, Jade…”
Memory hesitantly turned around. Cassian had just come out of the adjacent room. And he was fully clothed thankfully.
He blinked, raising an eyebrow.
“Is everything alright?”
Immediately, Diana with a broomstick came to mind and Memory worriedly looked at the elevator.
“Not really. Diana’s going to kick me for skipping studies. Bye!” Memory dashed past the two brothers and exited the east wing.
The cold breeze that hit her was a reminder that she needed to wear thicker clothes. It wasn’t that it was windy, just colder than she was used to.
Instead of running towards the fountain where Diana – and anybody, by extension – could see her from inside the palace, she ran in the opposite direction towards the stables. She encountered Tourmaline, the redhead, and Zoisite sitting around small table sipping tea but paid them no heed. Moments later, though, she heard someone run up to her and tug the sleeve of her shirt. Memory looked down.
“Why are you running like a crazy person?” The little girl asked. She wasn’t wearing frills but still sported a garish dress, complete with lace and ribbons.
“Oh, Zoisite…”
“Aunt Zoisite.” The girl snapped. “You just came here. You have to talk to me respectfully.”
“Sorry.” Memory held her hands up. “I didn’t know. I’m a crazy person, like you said.”
“Oh.” Zoisite smirked, reminding her too much of Prince Cassian for it to be normal. “Can…can I run with you?”
Memory shrugged. “Why not? But those shoes…”
Zoisite, along with the dress, had kitten heels on. And they were rather pretty–Memory didn’t want to be the reason she ruined them. Or worse, the one Diana yelled at for destroying a completely beautiful pair of shoes.
“I want to run!”
“Um.” The people in the royal family were getting weirder by the minute. “Why not barefoot?”
“Barefoot?” The girl asked as if she’d never heard of the term. Behind them, Tourmaline shouted for the girl in that obnoxious voice of hers.
“If you’re not coming, looks like your sister needs you.” Memory pointed to them. If she wasn’t quick, Diana would be gaining on her. “Coming or no?”
Zoisite sat down in the grass and pulled her heels off.
“I’m coming.”
Memory grinned and dashed ahead at a medium pace, Zoisite trailing behind her. The girl didn’t smile nor frown, but had a perfectly placid expression in place. The reason why she wanted to run in the first place became clearer the closer they got to the stables.
She’s probably annoyed by the ‘prim and proper’ ways they have here.
“Do you like to run?” Memory huffed, and Zoisite shrugged.
“I’m not allowed to run.”
Memory’s eyebrows were pulled into a frown. “Why not?”
“Palace rules.”
“Why are you doing it now?”
“Because you are.” Zoisite panted, slowing down as the stables were only fifty feet away. “For an old lady, you aren’t bad.”
Memory turned around and started jogging backwards. “Of course not. I was on the track team in middle school.”
“What’s track?”
Her response died in her throat when she tumbled backwards, slamming into another person. She fell onto the ground, and the little girl sneered.
“I take that back. You are horrible at running!”
Memory groaned, looking up to see who she bumped to. To her immense embarrassment, it was Elliot. And just looking at him made her forget any retort she had to Zoisite’s comments.
“We seem to meet like this quite a bit, princess.” He pulled her up, and Memory, covered in dirt, sighed.
“Sorry.” She brushed all that she could from her clothes. “I wasn’t looking.” At least he couldn’t see her blushing. All he could see was a brown face.
His lips twitched. Barely. “It is alright.” He walked over to the stables, leading a black horse out. She had never seen a horse in real life, but this one was beautiful. She had a long mane and soft eyes.
“Is that yours?”
“No.” Elliot responded. “It is Prince Edward’s.”
“She’s pretty.” Memory asked if she could touch her, and when he nodded, she stroked her mane. The horse neighed happily.
“Her name is Irma.”
Memory grinned. “Couldn’t think of a better name? Like, the blank knight? Or shadow hunter?”
He stared at her but didn’t reply, swinging onto the back of the horse. Zoisite pointed at the horse.
“I want to ride it!” She whined. Elliot turned to her.
“Ask your nephew, Lady Zoisite. I have no right.” He galloped away, and Memory was left with a stomping child.
“It’s not fair.” She cried. “It’s not fair!”
“Zoisite, I mean, Aunt Zoisite. Why can’t you ride the horse?”
Zoisite huffed. “Edward owns all the horses. And he thinks I am too young to ride.”
“Well…” Memory eyed her height. Maybe it wasn’t an age problem–three-foot tall people did have a higher chance of falling off and getting hurt compared to six-foot tall people.
“Elliot is really mean.” Zoisite said, and made an expression that Memory thought as supposed to be pouting but wasn’t quite right.
“Well. He seems kinda nice.” Memory kneeled next to her. “Who is he, by the way?”
The little girl’s mouth contorted into a frown. “You do not know?”
“I’m new here.” She reminded her.
“He’s my cousin.”
It took a moment to remember that Zoisite, this little girl, was King Darius’ sister. So Elliot must be King Darius’ cousin.
“Why is he here?”
“I do not know. I do not care.” Zoisite sighed. “Can we call a maid? My feet are dirty.”
Grinning, Memory slipped off her shoes. “That’s the point. C’mon. Don’t tell me you’ve never done this in your life.”
“But it is true! Mother will lock me inside if she finds out I got dirty.”
Memory, feeling more pity for the little girl by the minute, held out a hand.
“She won’t.”
Zoisite refused to touch her but smiled anyway, forgetting about her previous tantrum with the horses. She spun around in circles, smiling as she ran, and Memory told her about the game of tag.
“You’ve never heard of tag?” She deadpanned. Zoisite sniffed.
“It sounds like a stupid game.”
“Well, you’re stupid. Twerp.”
That got Zoisite fired up. “I’m better than you! And prettier!”
“But I know stuff you don’t. Like tag.” Memory poked her and ran off, laughing maniacally, and Zoisite joined her, smiling widely. The biggest smile Memory had seen on anyone since she’d entered the palace, including Diana’s.
That night, Prince Cassian visited her. And he looked dead serious.
“How come I get in trouble for being on the men’s floor and you don’t for being here?” Memory gestured to the maids who were sweeping the halls outside.
He smiled secretively. “Women tend to keep secrets if given proper incentive.”
Memory gagged. “I can’t believe anyone would find you charming.”
He pointedly rejected the bait and made her sit down. “My brother was not happy, but let it go. He’s under the impression you’re still new here. And that you’re the same child that vanished eleven years ago.”
“Okay. So what’s the news?”
“Two things.” Prince Cassian held up a finger. “First, King Darius is arriving from England this evening. He will be seeing you. Get your act together.”
Memory shuddered. If Queen Pearl was scary, than King Darius was down-right terrifying.
“Okay. Second?”
Prince Cassian pursed his lips. “Zoisite…she is locked in her room for the next two weeks. I know, from my visit in Helvie
ra, that people tend to play around. But there is no room for that here. Tourmaline was extremely upset and reported to Queen Beryl.”
Aghast, Memory protested. “That’s not fair! She’s only a child. And she had major issues. Do you want her to sit around and sip tea with women or play with children her age?”
“She is the King’s brother, Jade. Children are born for the sake of running the country, not playing.”
Memory wouldn’t give up. “But it’s not fair to take away her childhood. Do you know what it does to people? I mean, it’s insane.”
“Jade, please let go of anything you learned previously.” Prince Cassian leveled his gaze dangerously. “The way you were brought up was uncivilized. Please learn that.”
Snarling, Memory stood up. “Uncivilized? Are you saying that my parents were savages?” Her voice rose with every octave. “Horrible, compared to the likes of you? I was never raised, I raised myself! And after coming here, all you pompous idiots treating children like adults, it’s no wonder you turned out so abnormal!”
The last word echoed in the room, and Memory huffed from the long tirade she’d just had. She watched as Prince Cassian got up with a cruel glint in his eyes.
“I see.”
And he left.
Chapter 7
Memory refused to apologize. She wouldn’t. Nope, she would never.
Which was exactly why she was standing in the elevator, her finger hovering over the first floor button.
It hadn’t been even an hour and guilt hit her like a waterslide. What did she say wrong? She didn’t even do anything wrong! She’d only been trying to play with Zoisite.
Besides, if the little girl got in trouble, shouldn’t she have too? But maybe the grandmother, like everyone else, thought she was an outcast. Still a child. Learning the ways of royalty.
Memory couldn’t do it. Her pride was too strong, and someone needed to tell the Prince to get off his high pedestal. Besides, he probably had other, more important things to do than worry about a little commoner insulting him. In fact, it probably amused him more than anything else. Why should he care what a nobody called him?
The Liars Page 7