This is getting awkward. I try to step away, but her grip on me tightens, and she’s interlacing her fingers with mine. My gaze darts to Ryce, who nods and smiles. Carolina presses something warm and metallic into the pad of my thumb, which pulses.
I glance at Ryce again, who gives me the same amiable nod.
Realization slaps me upside the head. It’s a device. As soon as I wrap my fingers around it, Carolina releases me and steps back.
“Congratulations, my dear,” she says in the voice she uses in public. It’s more matronly than a grandmother’s and sounds more patriotic than anything I’ve heard on OasisVision. “I always knew you were destined for greatness!”
“Thank you.” It’s a struggle to keep the tremble out of my voice. I glance at Ryce. “Would you like to sit?”
Carolina clasps my hand and guides me to the sofa, while Ryce takes the armchair opposite and adopts the posture of a king. My heart sinks at the distance between us, but maybe it’s for the best. I’m supposed to be eager to marry Prince Kevon, and the cameras shouldn’t pick up any evidence of our affection.
Ryce places his hands on the chair’s arms. “Well done, Zea.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks. “Thank you. I want to make Rugosa proud.”
The slight curve of his lips says he knows that I’m using Rugosa as a code word for Ryce.
Carolina turns to her son. “I wonder if the people at the trials will permit you to send letters from Zea’s family?”
My breath catches. Ryce is a deliverer, one of the few Harvesters permitted to leave the region. His work often involves loading wagons, but he sometimes transports food to the Oasis and even beyond the mountains to Royal Navy ships.
“Do you think that could be possible?” I ask.
“There’s no harm in making a request.” Carolina twists her wedding ring.
I can only nod and imagine Ryce sneaking into the Oasis for midnight trysts. “When do you think—”
The ring buzzes. It’s Vail code—a system of single and double pulses—that spells out the word DOUBTFUL.
My brows draw together. Is Carolina trying to tell me that Ryce will be at the Oasis? I glance across the room, and the gleam in Ryce’s eyes says everything. As the mayor’s assistant, Carolina is responsible for detailed scheduling and can send any of the deliverers to far-flung places.
Warmth fills my chest, and I press my lips together to hold back my elation. With regular visits from Ryce, I’ll have something more to look forward to than the revolution.
Carolina tilts her head to the side and smiles. “What were you going to say, my dear?”
“I was wondering when I would appear on OasisVision.”
“Tomorrow evening, I hope,” says Ryce. “I’ll watch the Princess Trials every day.”
“As will I.” Carolina stands.
My heart pulses a rapid beat. Is she going to leave us alone? I glance at Ryce, who also stands.
Carolina places both hands on my shoulder. “I will pray every night for Gaia to send you guidance through this exciting time.”
“Thank you—”
“Gaia will bless you if you look for the signs,” she adds.
I nod. This is a common phrase old Harvesters use, but Carolina’s tone implies that she and Ryce will communicate using more than the ring.
“Prince Kevon will be a wonderful leader,” Carolina says, but I’m sure she’s referring to her son. “And I pray to Gaia that you will be the one to lead with His Highness.”
The door creaks open behind us. Carolina kisses both my cheeks and steps to the side.
Ryce’s eyes glimmer with barely restrained excitement. “I can’t wait to see you on OasisVision.” He kisses one cheek. “You’re going to make a great queen.”
I wait for the second kiss, but the blond sergeant tells them it’s time to leave.
Ryce murmurs goodbye and follows Carolina out of the room. The guard steps aside to let him leave, and I notice that Ryce is slighter than the blond man, but that’s because Ryce is not padding himself with armor.
“Is he a relative?” asks the blond guard.
“Carolina Wintergreen is like a second mother.” It’s not exactly a lie, as she is my mentor.
“So, he’s a big brother?”
I smile and nod. Dad’s stricken reaction fades to the back of my mind. Naturally, he worries about my involvement with the Red Runners, but they’re going to look out for me while I’m in the Oasis.
The sergeant places a hand on my shoulder. “Wait here while I gather up the other girls.”
When the door clicks shut, the ring in my palm pulses out the code for REVOLUTION.
Chapter 6
We step out into the floodlit night, onto a red carpet that leads to a shiny, black stagecoach. Men wearing camera goggles film us as we pass, and the roar of the crowd makes my spirits soar.
Guards flank our carpet from the door to the entrance to the coach. This is the second time today that pride swells my chest. I beam at Forelle, who returns a dazzling smile.
Emmera is the first to walk the carpet. “Thank you,” she yells without a trace of the bitterness from before. “I love you all!”
Vitelotte Solar trudges behind her and raises a hand. I can’t see her expression, but from the stiffness in her posture, she doesn’t feel comfortable with the attention.
“You first,” I say to Forelle.
With a sharp nod, she strides forward, displaying the same grace as Emmera. I wonder if Prince Kevon likes redheads or blondes like his mother.
A moment later, it’s my turn to walk, and my heart rate doubles. All the moisture leaves my throat and gathers on the palms of my hands. Imagining the footage being used one day to explain to children of the new democracy how it all began, I pull my
