My heart fills with warm gratitude. When Mom suggested I join the Princess Trials to make a difference, I laughed at the notion that someone so high up in our society would listen to the words of a Harvester girl. Now, Prince Kevon has done the unthinkable. With enough water flowing to each family, there’ll be plenty for us to thrive and to grow food at home. I won’t even need to tell Carolina about the underground river.
“Thank you for thinking about us.” My words seem insufficient in the light of the great gift he’s given the Harvesters. “You’re going to make a great king.”
Prince Kevon cups my cheeks and looks into my soul with an intensity that makes my heart flip. The pad of his thumb slides against my lip, and tingles spread across my skin.
“It’s your influence,” he murmurs. “Being with you makes me think anything is possible. Even returning from the brink of death.”
Heat rises to my cheeks, and I lower my lashes. “You saved me first, remember?”
“I’m aching to kiss you,” he murmurs.
Every bone in my body trembles with the force of my quickening heart, and my palms become damp. An unnamed force pushes us closer together until we’re pressed so tightly that our heartbeats fall into rapid sync.
Our gazes lock, and I slide my tongue over my dry lips. His dark eyes follow the movement. I want this just as much as Prince Kevon, but if I say yes, I might lose all sense of myself and forget the control his mother has over my family.
Prince Kevon’s lips are dark and full with a deep cupid’s bow. They turn up at the corners as though he’s always smiling, and I long to feel them against mine. The queen didn’t say I shouldn’t kiss him.
“I heard what you said as you struggled to save my life.” His voice resounds through my eardrums. “Those weren’t the words of a girl who considers me just a friend.”
The backs of my eyes sting with impending tears. It took nearly losing Prince Kevon to uncover the depth of my feelings.
I gulp. If he doesn’t kiss me right now, I think my heart will explode.
“Zea.” His voice curls around my senses and turns everything upside-down. His mouth is inches away from mine and his warm breath fans across my skin.
“Yes,” I murmur.
He leans into me and our lips touch. At first, the kiss is tentative as though he’s giving me the chance to draw back. But I curl my fingers around his bicep and pull him closer. With a moan, Prince Kevon wraps his arms around my back and deepens the kiss. A heartbeat later, the roof garden disappears, and it’s just me and Prince Kevon and his toe-curling lips.
When we part, I’m out of breath and eager for another kiss, but his beautiful lips curl into a sad smile.
“I don’t think it’s possible to love anyone more than I love you,” he whispers.
My breath hitches. My mind conjures up the image of identical blonde faces with identical missing teeth, and an ache spreads across my chest. I can’t tell him how I feel. What if those words reached Queen Damascena?
Prince Kevon’s hand drops to his side, and I raise my head, wondering if my refusal to admit my feelings has caused offense. His eyelids droop, and he offers me a tiny smile before falling into an exhausted sleep. I wrap my arms around his middle and stare past the edge of the roof.
Maybe there isn’t any hope for us, but with Prince Kevon soon inheriting the throne, there might be hope for Phangloria.
Chapter 12
Days pass and very little happens until early one morning, someone shakes me awake.
“Zea,” says Georgette. “They want everyone ready for the next challenge.”
I crack open an eye. Morning sunlight streams through the wall windows on the left. It’s so bright that it casts the other girl in shadow. I squint to focus on her features. “What’s happening?”
“The Royal Hospital just released Prince Kevon.”
The words hit like a jolt of caffeine, and I bolt upright. Cassiope stands at the foot of the bed, wearing a green jumpsuit and her usual camera glasses. I stretch out a palm, not wanting her to shoot me when I’m half-dead with my hair looking like corn silk left out in the sun.
On my right, Forelle sticks her head out of the walk-in wardrobe. “Your shower is ready, madam!”
With a groan, I swing my legs out of bed. My head still throbs from the time I spent in the detention center, and my muscles still ache. It’s been days since I last saw or heard from Prince Kevon, but Garrett tells me he was placed in a coma to remove the device that regulated the artificial tissues in his heart.
I shudder as I walk into the walk-in wardrobe. There’s nothing I can do but hope that this is the best course of treatment for Prince Kevon.
The lights over the dressing-table mirror make me squint, and my nostrils fill with the mingled scents of coffee and curling irons. I trudge past the display and step into the bathroom, where images from Rugosa’s cornfields play behind the bath on the back wall.
A pang of longing strikes my chest. I regret not asking Prince Kevon for help with my family and wonder if I could have turned to Garrett for intervention. After peeling off my nightgown, I step into the shower and let the hot jets of water massage away my tension. Sometimes the best way to deal with an opponent who holds all the power is to wait.
I scrub at my skin with a loofah and wash away the remnants of the detention center. If Prince Kevon is arriving today, then his mother will most likely accompany him to the palace. I’ve got to be on alert and act like I’m carrying out her orders.
This will be the first time I’ve left my room since returning from the hospital, and
