Despite knowing his intentions aren’t entirely benevolent, I nod.
“Ingrid Strab returned from the wilderness.” He spreads his arms wide. After several beats, he asks, “Would you believe a Foundling captured her in the Gloria National Park, saying that he wanted to hurt the prince by stealing his beloved?”
“No,” I rasp.
His symmetrical features split into a grin. “Don’t worry, her purity is still intact.”
Mouse steps back to watch our reactions. I don’t know if any of this is a lie or why he’s sharing it. The buttons on his collar flick on and off, and two small discs gleam on the epaulets on each shoulder. I guess he has at least three cameras.
“Alright, then.” He reaches for the strap.
My heart flip-flops, and all three of us inhale sharp breaths. I take a step back, my pulse fluttering in my throat.
Instead of pulling out a rifle, he reveals a shoulder bag, reaches into its depths, and pulls out a bottle of Mountain Water. Droplets bead from its surface, making it look fresh from the refrigerator. He twists open the seal with a crack.
I gulp and rub my dry throat. Why on earth are they allowing this man to speak with us before we’re interrogated? Mouse drinks several long swallows and releases a loud exhale. It’s the long, refreshed sound people make when getting their first mouthful of water directly from the tap before the sun turns it lukewarm.
“Answer this question for a watery prize.” He holds up the three-quarters-full bottle. “Which of you have no feelings, good, bad or indifferent, toward the prince?”
“Me,” Emmera rasps.
I turn to the girl and frown, but her eyes are fixed on that water.
“Congratulations.” He steps toward Emmera’s cage and hands her the bottle. Emmera opens it and takes tiny sips.
“And now for the next question.” He pulls out another bottle of water from his bag. “Who helped Miss Solar in this assassination?”
When nobody answers, Mouse opens his bottle and takes a long sip.
“I had no accomplices,” says Vitelotte.
“Wonderful.” He walks to her cage and hands her the bottle.
My tongue darts out to lick my dry lips. I don’t know if Vitelotte is trying to save us or just speaking up to receive a drink.
Mouse turns to me, his blue eyes twinkling like jewels. “How about you, Zea-Mays Calico?”
“What?” I whisper.
He steps in front of my cage, and his expression turns serious. “Do you love Prince Kevon, or have you been playing with his heart? Tell me it was all a game, and I’ll whisk you where no one will ever cause you harm.”
I drop my gaze. He wants me to denounce Prince Kevon in exchange for my freedom? This is just like the cryptic warning he gave me before the ball, only I know what will happen to me if I stay. A brutal interrogation, and if Prince Kevon doesn’t survive to get me out of this cage, I’m guaranteed a messy execution.
“How is he?” I ask.
“Your beloved?” The smile in his voice tells me he doesn’t believe I care for the prince.
I raise my chin and meet eerie blue eyes set within an unsettlingly perfect face. The first time I met Mouse, I thought he was a statue that had come to life, but now I’m thinking he’s an android or at least someone whose face was modeled by an artist obsessed with symmetry. He tilts his head to the side like an owl but somehow keeps his eyes fixed on mine.
“When I left Prince Kevon, his skin turned silver. They said it was the nanobots,” I say. “What’s happened to him since?
Mouse frowns. “Do you love the prince?”
Queen Damascena’s threat wraps like a pair of hands around my throat, and I choke on thin air. The white walls around my cage seem to close in on us, and the lights shine brighter. The last time I tried to break things off with Prince Kevon, she threatened to tamper with the twins’ vaccinations. Escaping with Mouse will only lead to their deaths.
I nod. It’s not just to save my little brothers, but because it’s the truth. Watching Prince Kevon gunned down after the ball was heart-breaking, but it was nothing compared to seeing him stabbed. I’ll never forget the pulse and flow of his warm blood through my fingers, I’ll never forget staunching his death with my hands.
Mouse raises his brows with a nod meant to encourage me to say it out loud.
“Yes, I love Prince Kevon.”
“An unexpected response,” he murmurs. “I commend your loyalty to the prince.”
He stares at me with intense scrutiny. The calculation in his eyes tells me he’s no longer playing a game, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or bad.
Mouse reaches into his bag. I lick my lips, hoping he’ll give me a bottle of water. Instead, he pulls out a bag of trail mix and slips it through the bars of Emmera’s cage.
Emmera tears it open and sprinkles a handful in her mouth, then Mouse walks to Vitelotte’s cage and hands her a pack of the same mix. She murmurs her thanks and rips it open.
My stomach clenches, and my shoulders droop. Pride dictates that I should remain silent and not beg, but I’m so hungry and thirsty that it hurts.
“May I have some water?” I ask.
“You may have a token of my esteem.” He sticks his arm through the bar and hands me a small box. “A girl who wants to be the queen should always look her best.”
Without a word, Mouse walks out of the room.
Vitelotte pushes her trail mix and water bottle through the bars. “Have some.”
Her voice grates on my nerves. How dare she be nice to me after what she’s done? I turn and meet her wide, brown eyes set within a pretty face framed by burgundy
