“No matter how they make you look on screen, anyone can see you’re one of his favorites.”
I shake my head. It’s too late to confide in my friend about my involvement with the Red Runners. Whatever security is protecting this guesthouse is probably listening to our every word. I only hope Ryce doesn’t think I’m falling for the prince.
She scoots forward and grabs my arm. “You and Rafaela have the best chance.”
“She’s dead.”
Forelle gasps. “No!”
“Didn’t you know?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “There was footage of her at the dinner table last night. I didn’t notice her in any of the activities today. Is that why Garrett left early this morning?”
“Probably.” I bite my lip, wondering why they would keep Rafaela’s death quiet and if Prunella would release the footage of her accusing me of the girl’s murder. “Can I sleep on your sofa tonight?”
“You should report the attack and not leave this place until the ball.”
“But the vote—”
“Prince Kevon really wants you, and he won’t let a stupid public vote get in the way of his happiness.”
My brows draw together. I might be a spy, but I don’t want Prince Kevon to think we have a future. It’s going to be hard enough when the revolution comes.
Prince Kevon will lose his throne and have to live like everybody else. Even if the Red Runners want to throw him in jail, I will explain that the prince deserves mercy for being willing to help Gemini.
Forelle fixes me with an excited stare. She probably expects me to get excited or pepper her with questions.
“What did Prince Kevon say about me?” I ask.
“He told Garrett you were the most promising of the girls.”
I shake my head. “He doesn’t even know me.”
“Prince Kevon got to travel down with each coach of girls, except for the Nobles, who he already knows. He was watching us all this time.”
My throat tightens, and I burst into a fit of coughs.
Forelle rushes to her feet to a metal panel on the wall and pushes something on the display. A glass of water drops down from an opening, and she hurries back and presses it into my hands.
I gulp down the liquid, but it does nothing to ease my tension. Until last night, I thought Nobles and Royals were unfeeling brutes who only cared about themselves. Prince Kevon is different, and I don’t want to add to his troubles by breaking his heart.
She leans across the sofa and grabs my hand. “Won’t that be wonderful? We’ll be related, and we’ll get to move our families to the Oasis.”
“Has Garrett discussed a future with you?” I ask to change the subject.
Forelle’s cheeks turn pink. “If Prince Kevon can sift through thirty girls to find a suitable wife, it should be easy for us to decide if this is really what we want.”
That wasn’t an answer. I stare down into my lap, hoping Forelle knows what she’s doing. My conscience itches to tell her that this lavish lifestyle won’t be available to her after the revolution, but doing so might jeopardize our plans before they even have a chance to get started.
I shake off these thoughts. If I don’t find a way to participate in the Princess Trials without getting myself killed, Forelle’s broken heart will be the least of my worries.
Chapter 22
Forelle’s words ring in my ears as she leads me upstairs to a room with a bed whose white headboard stretches up the wall, across the ceiling and down to where the wall meets the window. The view outside is of a lawn lit by floodlights bright enough to make me wince.
She picks up a remote, and a white screen drops down to the floor. “Did you know you can see and smell any kind of atmosphere in these vision rooms?”
I think about the room I share with Berta and Gemini in the barracks and shake my head. “How did you learn so much about Oasis technology when you’ve only been here a few days?”
“Practice.” Forelle clicks the remote, and images of a rainforest appear on every wall. “Prince Kevon stayed here on my first night. This is his favorite scene.”
I spin around to find that the headboard is also a screen projecting tall trees that stretch up to a starlit sky. The scent of leaves fills my nostrils, and my skin prickles with the beginnings of humidity. “Does it change the climate, too?”
“It’s not as powerful as the botanical gardens.” Forelle clicks a button, and the screen switches to a vista of a snow-covered forest. The temperature drops, and a sharp scent of pine and ozone fills the air.
My shoulders droop, and every blow from tonight’s attack weighs on my muscles. As much as I want to skip through the different atmospheres, I need to sleep. “Is Rugosa one of the options?”
Her mouth drops open, and she stares at me as though I’ve just told her that I prefer the drudgery of home to the luxury of the Oasis.
I exhale a weary breath and rub the back of my neck. It’s hard to explain, but at home, I was an anonymous Harvester girl who didn’t stand out from the others. Not even Ryce, the person I want most in this world, acknowledged me. Until now, I had no idea that being unremarkable could be such a comfort.
“Mom and Dad were on Netface today,” I say. “If you can show me Rugosa, I might miss them less.”
Her eyes soften, and she clicks some buttons on her remote. “Sure.”
In the blink of an eye, a cornfield fills the screens, and elation fills my heart. The temperature warms, and I smell the familiar scent of ripened corn and sun-warmed earth. I turn in a circle and stop at the headboard.
The old baobab that got struck by lightning stands behind the bed. It’s the same old baobab that marks the entrance to the underground headquarters of the Red Runners. My throat convulses, and I snatch my gaze away.
“Do
