“What’s going on?” I ask.
Georgette hands me another carton of coconut water. “People know what’s really happening, and they’re outraged.”
My stomach clenches and my fingers turn numb. There are so many hidden truths, I don’t dare to ask which they’ve uncovered. “What are you talking about?”
“Someone leaked footage of the stabbing on Netface,” says Georgette.
My mouth drops open, and the straw slips from my lips. “Who?”
She raises her shoulder and shakes her head. “They saw you help Prince Kevon when everyone else panicked. They also heard what the emergency technicians said. You saved his life.”
A lump forms in my throat, and I stare into my lap. All the weight I gained during my time in the Oasis is gone, leaving me with legs like a grasshopper. Even the fingers holding the carton appear thinner.
“The nation saw how the guard electrocuted and punched you unconscious on the street then dragged you into the back of a van,” Forelle adds with a sob. “What else happened? You look terrible.”
I mumble a few sentences about being held in a cage with Emmera and Vitelotte, but then remember that I stepped out of the restaurant covered in blood. “Did people think I tried to kill Kevon?”
Georgette wraps her hand around my wrist and brings the straw level to my lips in a silent cue to continue drinking. “The Lifestyle Channel said nothing for the first few days and just played Princess Trials reruns. By then, the rags reported the leaked footage, which made the Nobles scream for answers in the Chamber of Ministers.”
“Then Ingrid conveniently emerged from her ordeal,” adds Forelle.
I stare at my friend and frown. She was never this skeptical before. “You think she was faking?”
“Of course,” says Georgette. “They’re just trying to replicate what happened with you.”
I slump against the wall and try to take in all this new information. According to Georgette, whose family is addicted to the Lifestyle Channel, the production assistants came under pressure the evening of the ball when nobody could find Berta or me. With Prunella Broadleaf confessing to making an attempt on my life, they all thought I was dead until I entered the Chamber of Ministers with Prince Kevon.
My brows draw together. “That explains the huge round of applause.”
Georgette nods. “They made such a big deal about Ingrid going missing and they probably would have stretched out the suspense for longer, but they needed a distraction from Prince Kevon’s stabbing.”
I run a hand through my wet hair. “But there were so many guards searching the National Park…”
Georgette snorts. “I can point out six of these so-called guards from my theater school.”
“Actors?” I glance at Forelle.
She places a comforting hand on my shoulder and grimaces. “Sorry, but they’re trying really hard to make Ingrid look like she was meant to become the next queen.”
Bile rises to the back of my throat, and I clench my teeth. “Why did they even bother to keep me in the Trials when they could have just sent me home?”
Forelle turns her gaze to Georgette, who pulls her brows together in a look of contemplation. I gulp, and try to calm my breaths. What aren’t they telling me?
“Remember how I said that there’s footage of you saving Prince Kevon?” asls Georgette.
I nod.
“That’s not all someone has leaked on Netface,” she says.
“What’s there?” I whisper.
“Everything,” says Forelle. “Clips of you and Prince Kevon falling in love along with footage that could only have come from his Amstraad device. I don’t know how they got it, but anyone who searches Netface can see the truth.”
The carton of juice slips from my loose fingers and falls into my lap. Cool coconut water oozes out from the straw, and I lean forward with a groan. “Do they think it came from me?”
“Of course not.” Forelle rubs my back.
I bet she thinks I’ve gone crazy. Anyone else would celebrate that the whole of Phangloria knew about their budding romance with the future king, but these videos could mean my family’s death.
I raise my head and meet my friend’s worried eyes. “Have you heard anything from Rugosa?”
“A few journalists went to your house and tried to interview your parents, but they seemed confused because they only watch what’s available on OasisVision.”
Georgette walks around the bathroom and turns off the taps. I pick up the carton of coconut water and drain its contents in several long gulps. This isn’t as bad as I initially thought. Queen Damascena can’t blame me for actions that took place while her security people held me in a cage, can she?
After giving me some energy pills, which taste like orange and fizz on my tongue, the girls leave me to finish bathing alone. I peel off my underwear and rinse the conditioner out of my hair. It doesn’t matter if everyone in the Oasis knows the truth about Prince Kevon and me. As long as the queen outranks him, I have to obey her to protect my family.
When I step out into the walk-in wardrobe, Forelle and Georgette are ready with a hairdryer, makeup brushes, and an eggplant-colored jumpsuit they say will look wonderful on my skin. I sit in front of the dressing table and let them go to work, but as soon as they’ve done my hair and makeup, they step back for me to get changed.
Forelle says she’ll order me some soup, and Georgette leaves with her. As soon as the door clicks shut, I examine the wardrobe. Two rails of clothes stand opposite each other from within the ivory cabinets. I rifle through an array of outfits that include short dresses, long gowns, more jumpsuits than a person could use in a year, and find my Harvester Uniform.
Tomato juice no longer stains the apron, and there’s no sign of the small pocket I stitched into its side. The palace staff must have replaced it with a replica when they couldn’t make it pristine.
Behind another door
