He holds the door open, and another young man walks in. Everything about him is familiar, except he’s not the Prince Kevon I saw on OasisVision. I have to blink to focus. He has the blue-black hair of a Noble and dark eyes, but his features belong to someone else: Sergeant Silver.
My stomach drops.
Sergeant Silver is Prince Kevon.
He’s the guard who heard me talk about wanting to be with Ryce as he leads the country. He’s also the guard who told me that Prince Kevon was a lucky man to have a committed admirer.
Prince Kevon pauses at the door and surveys the room. For a moment, our eyes meet, and he raises his brows. I drop my gaze and realize I’m the only person in the room not applauding.
As he walks down the side of the room, I clap louder to compensate for my indiscretion. I might be here as entertainment, but I can’t get eliminated in this interim round. Bucking bronco or not, I will have to play my part until I reach the palace and start my mission.
Garrett trails behind Prince Kevon. From the black holsters camouflaged around his outfit, he’s some kind of bodyguard. All that talk about wanting to become a doctor had been horse manure he had dredged up to impress Forelle.
I’m almost glad my friend has returned to Rugosa. At least she’s away from the clutches of yet another guard.
Prince Kevon stands at the podium and gives a welcoming speech. I can’t hear a word of it because my pulse beats like a war drum and muffles everything but the blood roaring through my ears. Of all the underhanded tactics…
A laugh forces its way out of my chest. Why am I being such a hypocrite? I came here to destroy the monarchy, not to marry it. By the time I’m through with these people, romance will be the least of their problems.
Chapter 11
At the end of his speech, Prince Kevon steps down from the podium to another round of applause. The cameras point to the tables, and this time, I force a smile and clap along with the girls.
Even though we have plans in place to topple the monarchy, I’m kicking myself for not noticing Prince Kevon earlier. I’m also kicking myself for all the time I spent ignoring Garrett when I could have gathered valuable information for the Red Runners.
The muscles in my face ache from being so fake, but I stretch my grin wider, hoping it doesn’t look like a pained grimace on camera. My mind skips back to every interaction I had with the supposed guards, but I can’t remember having said anything incriminating.
“He’s nothing special,” says Berta with a huff.
I continue my applause, not reacting to any sort of incitement to treason.
As prince Kevon passes the front tables, the brown-haired Noble rushes out from her seat. Garrett twitches but relaxes and lets her approach. She wraps her arms around his neck and presses her willowy body against his.
The Nobles and the Amstraadi are the first to stop applauding, then the girls in the lower tables cease. What’s left is the awkward hand-clapping of the few assistants around the room who aren’t holding tablets or cameras.
“Who’s that?” I whisper to Berta.
“Rafaela van Eyck.” She nods at the embracing pair. “That actress I was telling you about last night.”
“His girlfriend.” It’s not a question.
“Yeah.” She snorts. “Look at the way he’s clinging onto her. It makes the whole trial a farce, doesn’t it?”
I don’t voice my agreement, even though Berta’s words ring true. I expect annoyed grumbles to spread around the tables, but the girls keep their expressions neutral. Either the presence of the prince or the cameras trained on their faces are keeping them from protesting, but from their earlier reaction to the twelve new contestants, I guess that everyone is bristling on the inside.
Emmera, who sits on the other table in the back row, catches my gaze. Her eyes are hard, and part of me wonders if she’s still sore about her sister not reaching this round.
Prince Kevon releases the hug, cups Rafaela’s face, and says something that makes her lower her gaze to his lips. Then she parts hers, looking like she wants a kiss. I hold my breath, hoping the pair of lovers contain themselves at least until they turn off the cameras.
Someone clears their throat. I tear my gaze away to find Lady Circi striding across the room. As she passes Garrett, she shoots him a hateful glare. I bite down on my lip. Why should he get in trouble for the actions of the prince? She whispers harsh words to Rafaela and gestures toward the front table.
The girl inclines her head and glides back to her seat.
“Talk about staking her claim,” Berta mutters.
Without meaning to, I nod. Everyone in this room with a pair of eyes and a working brain knows that Prince Kevon belongs to Rafaela von Eyck. And from the defeated postures of the standing girls, they feel it, too.
Prince Kevon strolls down the left of the room with Garrett at his side. Both young men appear supremely satisfied with their defiant display. I glance at Lady Circi, whose hands curl into fists. If the object of her fury wasn’t a prince, his action might have earned him a whipping.
Prunella claps her hands together from the stage. “Thank you, Prince Kevon. Each girl has a break to Netface their families while we shoot footage of our new contestants. When you return, you may enjoy a breakfast buffet.”
Berta is already out of her seat before Prunella finishes her sentence. I turn to Gemini, who stares as though seeing me for the first time.
“Hi,” I say. “I’m Zea. Zea-Mays Calico from Rugosa.”
She picks up a cup of water. “Corn Flint Corn from Sweet Corn?”
Cringing, I clear my throat at the direct translation of my name. It sounds stupid when spelled out
