“You’re sure to make someone extremely happy, but that girl will never be me.”
Prince Kevon lowers his thick lashes, steps away from my touch, and heads for the door. My heart pounds so hard that I think it’s going to burst.
When he opens the door and is about to step out, a silent sob catches in the back of my throat. There’s no turning back after words like that. I’ve lost him forever.
He closes the door and pauses. My hand covers my heart. Now it’s my turn to brace myself to hear some cutting words.
“Thank you for being honest.” His voice is thick with emotion, but his voice never wavers.
My throat convulses, and I hold my breath, hoping he won’t try to change my mind.
“I will speak to my mother and tell her that under current circumstances, it’s no longer appropriate for you to participate in the Trials.”
Chapter 7
Prince Kevon steps out of my room, leaving me with the gut-wrenching feeling that I’ve made a horrific mistake. My pulse flutters in my throat like a trapped butterfly, and my fingers won’t stop trembling. I’ve never spoken so harshly to someone who occupies such a large space of my heart, and each word slices through my consciousness like tractor blades.
When the door clicks shut and all that lingers of him is his cologne, my leg muscles turn to water, and I collapse onto my knees.
Spasms of pain grip my lungs, forcing out harsh, wracking sobs. I didn’t know it was possible to mourn a relationship that hadn’t even started, but my insides feel as parched and as cracked as dry earth.
Somewhere on the edge of my awareness, the door creaks open and footsteps hurry toward me. A gentle arm wraps around my shoulder and on the other side, a second arm slides around my waist. Forelle and Georgette walk me to the sofa and whisper words of comfort that barely penetrate my grief.
As I sink into the soft velvet, Cassiope appears and places a box of paper handkerchiefs in front of me on the table.
I raise my head and meet her wide, brown eyes. “Is this going on the Lifestyle Channel?”
“They only told me to record the task.” She hooks her thumb toward the walk-in closet. “I’ll just be in the bathroom for the next ten minutes.”
I nod my thanks, and she leaves. Even though I’m fully aware that Cassiope has no power over what the producers broadcast, I appreciate that she’s risking her job to guard my privacy.
“What happened?” Forelle smoothes a lock of damp hair off my face. “Did you and Kevon fight?”
“I can’t…” I shake my head.
Georgette rubs my back. “He’s probably under pressure to spend more time with the other contestants. Prince Kevon knows what he wants, and when he fulfills his duty to the Trials, he’ll be back.”
Guilt thickens my throat. They all think he did something to me when it’s the opposite.
“Zea.” Forelle squeezes my hand. “Garrett’s meeting me tonight. I’m sure I can—”
“No.” The word comes out like a panicked scream. I twist around and meet her gray eyes. “Please leave it alone. It’s my fault.”
Her lips form a perfect O. I’m sure she’s thinking about the conversation we had in the guesthouse’s bathroom, where Forelle accused me of pulling a face whenever she mentioned Prince Kevon.
Back then, Forelle sensed that I wasn’t in the Princess Trials for a chance to become the queen. But now, I wonder if she suspects that I’m not even in the Trials for a break from the drudgery of being a Harvester.
She reminds me so much of Mom. When Forelle found Garrett charming, I disliked him for being an annoying guard. Forelle is falling for Prince Kevon’s cousin, and I’m happy for her. But I’m so skeptical and twisted from past trauma that it took seeing Prince Kevon gunned down and then having him save me from a knife in the back to consider him as more than just his Echelon.
Before Forelle can admonish me for wasting an opportunity for love, I wrap my free hand over hers. “Don’t interfere. This is for the best.”
Forelle’s nod is hesitant, but it’s enough to console me that she won’t play matchmaker and jeopardize my standing with Queen Damascena. Georgette pats my shoulder and rises, while Forelle encases me in a hug tight enough to expel half my misery.
Later, Georgette returns with a gel that will reduce my puffy eyes and remove the red blotches on my face. I close my eyes as she slides the cool substance onto my skin. The scent of cucumbers and chamomile fills my nostrils, and I take several calming breaths.
By the time Cassiope walks back into the room, I’ve made enough peace with my decision to quell my tears. Breaking ties with Prince Kevon is for the best. He would have rejected me later if he discovered that I joined the Princess Trials to remove him from power. Leaving now might preserve my secret, but I still have to negotiate the safety of my family with Queen Damascena or Lady Circi.
“It’s nearly time.” Cassiope stands at the other side of the low table. “Are you ready to start your next challenge?”
Georgette fixes my hair and makeup, then Cassiope and I step into the hallway. I’m sure the palace has assigned this part of the building to only the Harvesters as I never see anyone else here. The stairwell door opens, and a fresh-faced and newly dressed Emmera steps out with the production assistant assigned to her.
I’m in no mood to venture out of the palace and face the reporters so we walk the palace grounds, looking for inspiration.
Vitelotte and her production assistant join us through winding corridors, passing servants clad in purple uniforms and the occasional armed guard. Carolina’s plan to infiltrate the palace through its hidden passageways was sound, but it would require the rebels to murder all these innocent servants to reach anyone with real
