The Pageant

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The Pageant Page 14

by Leigh Walker


  “Bad day in human land?” Eve asked. She was wearing trousers and a tunic again, unlike the dress I’d seen her in a few days ago.

  “Didn’t you hear about the battle yesterday? I wouldn’t exactly call it a bad day—it was more like a massacre.”

  Dallas stiffened, but I ignored him.

  Eve tossed her curls, her white skin gleaming in the sunlight that streamed in through the windows. “I heard about it, but the Bully Prince wouldn’t let me fight.”

  “You wouldn’t have fought them, anyway. They were humans. Our people. The rebels.”

  Eve shook her head. “You’re wrong. I absolutely would have fought them.”

  I jumped to my feet. “Has the transformation caused you to lose your mind?”

  “No.” Eve took a step closer, narrowing her bright-aqua eyes. A zip of fear tingled through me. “Those rebels came here to attack the palace and disrupt the competition. They wanted it to be a big story, how they came and attacked the royal family in their own home. They meant to trap us here and attack us unawares. A coward’s plan.”

  “They came here to fight against the people who took over the settlements and tore our families apart!” I cried. “Those rebels—my father could have been with them. My brother. And the vampires destroyed them all, without hesitation.”

  “You’re wrong about that, Gwyneth.” Dallas shook his head. “The rebels that attacked us yesterday are a group we’re familiar with. We’ve fought them before. I’ve had some of my top strategists tracking your family, and I knew they weren’t among the scum who came to slaughter us yesterday.”

  I winced. “Scum? That’s how you view my people?”

  “No, that is how I view the group who tried to invade the palace yesterday. That same group has slaughtered innocent women and children in the name of their cause, which by the way is less philanthropic than you might think. They want to rule, they want power, and they want wealth. So I do not call them scum lightly.”

  Dallas stepped forward, a white-hot fury on his face. “How about your view of my people? Mind controllers who would slaughter all of humanity in an instant? Isn’t that what you told Tariq?”

  “That’s not what I said.” Not exactly.

  “I heard you. And to think…” He stepped back.

  I swallowed hard.

  Eve watched us with interest but smartly kept her mouth shut.

  “I should go back to class.” My voice was hoarse. “Eve, do you need anything? Are you doing all right?” My attempt to check on her now seemed lame at best.

  “I’m fine. I’m doing well.” She tilted her chin, her glowing eyes zeroing in on me. “But you don’t seem okay.”

  I shook my head. “Yesterday was a bit of a shock.”

  She nodded. “I know where you grew up. You haven’t been exposed to…what the world is really like. It’s cruel, Gwyn. But what Dallas said is the truth. The men who attacked us yesterday were the monsters, not us. I’ve been learning a lot about what’s really happened here in the settlements. It’s different than what I believed.”

  I didn’t know what to say. What had happened to my friend who’d hated the vampires? She’s become one of them. Did that mean she no longer knew right from wrong?

  “I really have to go.”

  Dallas walked with me. “I’ll escort you. Tariq will have a fit unless you have a proper excuse.”

  I nodded, unable to say more.

  He was silent as we headed down the hallway, back toward the salon.

  My heart beat jaggedly. I wanted to say many things to the prince, and I wanted to say nothing.

  Had it only been a few nights ago that he’d held my hand? That my heart had soared with hope?

  “I don’t have news of your family, not yet.” Dallas broke my reverie. “But I have my best men working on it. I should know something soon.”

  “Thank you.” I at least owed him that.

  He sighed. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I know you cannot possibly understand.”

  “You were protecting your people. It was just…it was very brutal, my lord.”

  The muscle in his jaw jumped. “So we’re back to my lord, are we?”

  I looked straight ahead. “I’d never seen death before. And I hadn’t seen that side of you. I’m still reeling from it.”

  “I understand.” Dallas’s voice was grave. “But there’s more to the story with this group of rebels.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I can’t tell you. It would put you in danger, and that is in direct opposition to my goals.”

  I started to argue, but several members of the royal guard came around the corner. They marched toward us, leading men in shackles. As we got closer, I could see the prisoners were human, in filthy, bloody clothes—the remaining rebels.

  Dallas reached for me and protectively pushed me behind him, shielding me from the mix of sentinels and prisoners.

  The soldiers stopped and bowed. “Your Highness, these prisoners have been processed. We’re taking them down to the cells.”

  Dallas nodded. “Make sure they are fed and given warm blankets and clean clothes.”

  “I don’t want anything from you filthy bloodsuckers!” one of the rebels shouted.

  The guard nearest to him took out his gun and pressed it against his temple. “Keep your mouth shut! You will not address the prince, and you will not insult the royal family.”

  “Dallas, please.” I reached for his arm. “Please don’t hurt him.”

  Dallas nodded to the guard, who immediately lowered his weapon.

  The prisoner sneered at me. “Who’s that? One of the sluts who’s here to turn on her own kind and marry the prince?”

  Dallas moved so fast that I barely saw what was happening. In a flash, he was across the hall. He grabbed the prisoner’s neck, lifted him off the ground, and shoved him against the wall.

  The rebel’s eyes bugged out of his head as Dallas squeezed.

  “Don’t. You. Ever. Speak to her or use that word again in my house. If you do, I’ll drain you dry myself. And I’ll do it slowly so that you piss yourself like the coward you are.”

  The man turned purple, and Dallas dropped him. He crumpled to the ground, wheezing and clutching his neck.

  The prince stepped back and came to my side. Instinctively, I reached for his hand and squeezed it. He gave me a quick, surprised look before nodding to the guards. “Watch them, and keep me informed.”

  The guards bowed, then helped the wheezing rebel up. They led the prisoners past us, but one of them kept staring at me.

  Our eyes caught as he moved past. “Gwyneth?” he asked.

  Dallas stepped forward, menacing, but the prisoner raised his hand. “I mean her no harm or disrespect. I know her from Settlement Four. It’s been years, though.”

  I searched his face, trying to recognize him. “Ben? Benjamin Vale?” He’d grown taller and more thickly muscled, and his sandy hair was longer than when I’d last seen him. But his light-blue eyes were the same, and I could see the boy inside the man’s face.

  “That’s right. I was in your brother’s grade.”

  “Have you seen him?” I asked breathlessly.

  Ben’s gaze flicked to the prince. “No. I’m so sorry. I haven’t seen Balkyn in a long time.”

  The sentinel waiting to bring Ben to the cells looked at Dallas. “My lord?”

  “Take him away.”

  Ben nodded at me one last time, then disappeared with the guard around the corner.

  Dallas watched me carefully. “You know that man?”

  I nodded. “Not well. He was an acquaintance of my brother’s. His family lived in the same area of the city as ours.”

  The muscle in Dallas’s jaw twitched. “I know him, or of him, I should say. He’s risen through the rebel ranks, and not because of his courage and valor. He’s a vulture. He’s part of the extreme rebel leadership. They will do anything to recruit others in an effort to take power.”

  I
stepped away from him, dropping his hand. “I don’t know what he is now, but he used to be my brother’s friend.”

  “I want you to stay away from him.”

  I scoffed. “He’s being carted to the dungeon. I don’t think you need to worry about us catching up.”

  “He’s dangerous, Gwyneth.” Dallas let that sink in. “Stay away from him.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  He raised his chin, taking my measure. “You wound me, my lady.”

  “Then perhaps we’re even,” I mumbled.

  We kept a firm distance between us as he escorted me back to the salon, both lost in our own thoughts. Mixed feelings jumbled inside me. A boy I’d known growing up had just been led to the dungeon. Another man had just called me a race traitor. My first friend at the palace was not only a vampire, but she seemed to be supporting vampire politics.

  My head spun. Dallas had just defended me, and as much as I appreciated it, the damage from recent events still had me reeling. There were so many things between us left unsaid. It was too much to tackle in our remaining walk.

  Dallas bowed as we reached the salon. “I’ll have a word with Tariq so you won’t be punished.”

  I nodded. “Thank you. For that, and for what you did back there, with the rebel.”

  His eyes flashed. “You think I’m a monster, but all I want is to protect you.”

  I wanted to believe him, but I remembered Tamara’s words from this morning. The prince said you’re a nuisance.

  So I only nodded in response, unable to speak, fully, painfully aware that I had no idea what I was doing.

  Chapter 25

  Restless

  “So?” Tamara leaned forward conspiratorially. “How was it?”

  Shaye blushed as she buttered her croissant. “It was lovely.”

  “Did you have lobster?”

  Shaye shook her head. “It was some sort of chicken dish—piccata? It had these small green wrinkly things in the sauce. I didn’t think I was going to like it, but it was actually delicious.”

  I cleared my throat. “How was the prince? How was his…mood?”

  Tamara frowned at me. “That’s a weird thing to ask.”

  “He was fine,” Shaye said smoothly. “He was very pleasant.”

  “Ooh, you like him.” Tamara waggled her eyebrows. “Tell me all the good stuff. Did he put the moves on you?”

  Shaye’s blush deepened. “Of course not. He was the perfect gentleman.”

  “Did he kiss you? I bet he kissed you. He almost kissed me, but Gwyn swooped in and ruined the moment.”

  I glared at Tamara. She glared back.

  Then the silence stretched out, and my stomach clenched.

  “He kissed me…a little.” Shaye’s face flamed.

  “A little? What the heck does that mean?” Tamara was still smiling, but now that she’d been outdone, it looked strained.

  Shaye shook her head and concentrated on her pastry. “He gave me a brief kiss goodnight. It was over in a moment. It wasn’t anything.”

  Tamara’s eyes flashed. “Well, what did he say?”

  “He said it was nice to spend time with me. That I was…easy to get along with.” Shaye’s gaze flicked to me. She looked miserable.

  Tamara collected herself. “That’s a nice thing to say. I mean, it’s not terribly romantic, but it’s nice.”

  Shaye shrugged. “Right.”

  I put on a brave face. “The prince has excellent taste.”

  Shaye’s gaze rose to meet mine. “Thank you.”

  I smiled. “Of course. You’re the one who told me it’s better to like him. If you like him, I’m rooting for you.”

  She smiled back, looking relieved. I couldn’t even bring myself to think bad things about her. She was my friend, and she was kind.

  And she was certainly easier to get along with than me.

  The next few days dragged. We continued our lessons. Mira Kinney and her crew filmed us non-stop—getting dressed, walking in the gardens, playing games during our limited free time. The royals were busy in meetings with their strategists and guards, discussing security and planning god-only-knew what against the rebels.

  I rarely saw Dallas. Through gossip, I heard he was continuing his one-on-one dates with the contestants.

  There was no word about the rebels or about the prisoners down in the dungeon.

  I had a letter from my mother. She raved about the first episode of the Pageant, saying she knew I’d have the first date and could you believe how the prince had looked at me.

  She said Winnie had gushed about how gorgeous I’d looked, but Remy said I looked like a scary old witch with all that makeup on.

  That, at least, made me giggle.

  At night, I tossed and turned in my bed, anxious for news of my father and brother. I wondered if Dallas had heard anything. I wished I could see the prince and talk to him, but at the same time, I didn’t want to see him at all. There were so many issues dividing us, so many things keeping us apart. And on top of that…

  He’d kissed Shaye.

  I loved my friend, so it was nothing against her. We continued to talk and laugh and hang out as we’d done since the first day we’d met. But when I was alone, I recognized that I was still choking on a bitter pill—the fact that Dallas had kissed her.

  He must prefer her.

  The thought pierced me, caused me physical pain. But herein lay the reason I couldn’t sleep—what right did I have to be hurt? Why did I care? I’d seen the prince slaughter an army of humans. I’d seen him in his true form—a beast.

  I might still try to win the Pageant, but how could I love someone who could do such terrible things?

  And of course, he preferred Shaye. She would be a magnificent princess—kind to everyone, courteous, beautiful, and smart. If Shaye thought bad things about the prince and the vampires, she had enough tact to bide her time. She would keep the criticism and negativity to herself and discuss things in a mature manner when the time was right.

  Dallas had told me from the beginning that he was looking to choose a winner who would be an asset politically, a princess who would help him bring peace to the settlements, prosperity to the land, and get along with his family. Shaye was a much better choice than me. She was kind to everyone and had a level of tact and self-control that I could only dream of.

  Even Tamara, with all her flaws, would be a better choice. Her family had connections. She cared about appearances. You wouldn’t find her creeping about the halls, yelling that the vampires would kill us all. She had other ways of conducting her business, and you could at least trust her to keep up appearances.

  You couldn’t count on me for any of those things. Those important things.

  So it was settled: I wouldn’t choose him, and he wouldn’t choose me.

  So why on Earth couldn’t I sleep?

  And when I finally did, why did I dream only of Dallas?

  Chapter 26

  Done All Wrong

  The next night proved sleepless as well. After hours of tossing and turning again, I had an idea. I needed to talk to Ben Vale. The idea of him rotting down in the dungeon had been gnawing at me, along with everything else.

  And although I had no control over most of what troubled me, I could at least check on Ben and find out more from him. When had he last seen Balkyn? Did he have any news or stories of my family?

  I slipped out of bed and dressed in the dark. My guards had been outside my door only sporadically, a fact I’d kept to myself.

  I peered outside, holding my breath. No one was there.

  I took this as a sign. Whether it was a good or bad one, I didn’t know.

  I crept down the hall then the stairs. As usual at this hour, I could hear music and voices coming from one of the salons. The king and queen were awake. They ruled the palace at night. It was in my best interest to avoid their detection, so I moved swiftly down the hall, away from the noise.

  I encountered no guards. I didn’
t know what to make of it, but I was still relieved. Perhaps they’d been repurposed, monitoring the perimeter of the grounds in case of another rebel attack.

  I made it to the hallway where I’d last seen the rebel prisoners. The darkness enveloped me as I kept close to the cool, stone wall. I turned the same corner where I’d lost sight of Ben. This must be the way to the dungeon.

  I swallowed hard, wrapping my cloak tighter around me. It was cold and damp and dark.

  Voices were coming down the main hall. I scrambled quickly down the stairs, praying they didn’t follow. When they passed by, I breathed a sigh of relief.

  I continued down the stairwell. It was lit by occasional torches, but it was still dark, quiet, and cold. The brief feeling of relief fled, replaced by fear. Still, I kept going.

  Maybe Ben’s seen Balkyn. Maybe he can tell me something—anything.

  Two flights down, I saw the landing. There was light down here. Would there be guards? I hadn’t thought this part through. What could I say to convince them I needed to speak to Ben? What could I say to convince them they shouldn’t turn me in for violating curfew?

  I reached the landing and, my heart in my throat, peered around the corner. But there was no one. Just an empty stool and a desk with some papers spread across it.

  I scanned the ill-lit corridor. There were the cells, a dozen of them, each with bars across the doors. It was quiet, but I could tell I wasn’t alone. The rebels were in the cells, sleeping. I heard one snore. I didn’t want to wake them or be detected. But I’d come this far. I needed to see if I could speak to Ben.

  I crept past the first cell then the next. The men were asleep inside, one flopped on his stomach, one sleeping with his mouth wide open. I stopped when I reached the third cell, almost tripping over myself.

  Ben Vale was sitting propped up on his bed, light-blue eyes staring right at me.

  “H-hello,” I whispered. “I shouldn’t be here, but I wanted to talk to you.”

  He nodded, not at all surprised. “I knew you would. I’ve been waiting for you, ever since I saw you in the hall.” He kept his voice low, careful not to wake the others. “Balkyn’s sister would want to know how he was, and I’ve never met a West who was a coward.”

 

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