“Is that better?” he asks.
I open my eyes and meet Prince Kevon’s dark gaze. He’s so close that I feel the warmth of his breath. My heart stutters and I bite down on my lip. This would be a perfect moment if I hadn’t just helped condemn so many innocent people to a life of hardship.
Cornfields whizz past in the window behind him, and my mind drifts to something Ambassador Pascale once said about Phangloria wasting human resources on manual labor that could be mechanized.
It seems so odd that I’m alone with the prince and thinking about the reforms he’s going to make to the country, but it’s always been like that between us. One of the reasons I can’t help loving him is because he’s always thinking of others.
The car turns a corner, and we enter the unlit stretch of land between the cornfields and our home. We bump up and down as the wheels navigate the potholes and uneven surfaces. Prince Kevon’s vehicle is clearly made for traveling through finished roads and not the rough terrain of Rugosa.
We stop outside the house. Only one van is stationed outside, and all the lights are off. I hold my breath. When I rode back to the palace in the queen’s mobile dressing room, Lady Circi said there were four.
A heavy fist pounds on the car window, and someone barks at us to open the door.
Prince Kevon pulls away. “Wait here.”
“What are you doing?”
“I won’t have you hurt again by hostile guards.” He opens the door on his side, steps out, and walks around the back of the car.
The guard who shouted at us falls to his knees. “Your Highness, we were not expecting you.”
Prince Kevon asks, “Why are you stationed outside the Calico home?”
The guard raises his head, his face twisted with indecision. “Sir,” he says. “Patrolling this street is part of my duties—”
“Yet your colleague over there has just stepped out from the front door,” Prince Kevon snarls. “What is the meaning of this?”
I open the car door and step out to find a guard standing under the verandah, and my breath catches. Prince Kevon demands to know if my family left for the roll-call, and the guard tells him that they were moved last night.
As Prince Kevon forces the guard to call his superior, I rush past the man stationed at the door and step into the house. Moonlight shines through the glass above the front door, illuminating the hallway. On my left is the living room. It’s pristine, with two little desks made of packaging crates arranged in front of the window, where Mom teaches the twins.
Next, I dash into the kitchen. It’s tidy and there are no signs of a struggle. Fresh chard leaves lie within the coolbox, along with an untouched block of soy protein, indicating that Mom recently collected the food rations. I scratch my head. It looks like the guard told the truth that they were only recently moved.
Upstairs is the same. Most of Mom and Dad’s clothes are still in place, as are the patchwork quilts, making me think they weren’t allowed to gather their things.
When I return downstairs and step out into the street, two more vehicles park outside, and people stream into their houses from the direction of the square. They’re either accustomed to seeing this many guards outside our house or tonight’s show of force rendered them too frightened to look.
“They’re gone,” I whisper.
Prince Kevon wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me into his broad chest. “They’re in Fort Meeman-Shelby.”
I draw back. “Why?”
“Lady Circi had them moved for their protection.”
My mouth falls open. “I don’t understand.”
He offers me a tight smile. “I just spoke to her. She didn’t want your family to suffer any repercussions from the arrests.”
“That was awfully conscientious of the lady-at-arms.” My voice sounds like it’s coming from afar. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell what Lady Circi is thinking. Is she concerned about their safety or worried about losing Queen Damacena’s leverage over me?
“What’s going to happen to them?” I ask.
He pauses. “We can bring them back, but some of the other Harvesters might take out their anger on your family for the recent reforms.”
I gulp. “May I see them?”
“Of course.” Prince Kevon places a hand on the small of my back and guides me into the car.
The journey back to the fort is silent, with me staring into my hands, wondering how on earth Queen Damascena will react. Prince Kevon stares into the notepad and sighs. I guess he’s just uncovered the monstrous side of his mother’s personality she reserves for others.
Later, Prince Kevon wraps an arm around my waist as we walk through the courtyard. The first traces of sunlight emerge from the distant hills, but the sky is a dark indigo, still illuminated by the moon. There’s no sign of the production vehicles, and I assume they’ve already left for the Oasis. I wonder if Emmera found a way back to Rugosa or returned to the palace.
A stout, male guard in black uniform waits for us at the door. When we approach, he bends into a low bow. “Your Highness, Colonel Snath requires your attention immediately.”
“That can wait,” Prince Kevon snaps. “Where are you holding the Calico family?”
The guard straightens and draws his brows together. “I’m unaware of new prisoners.”
“Did Lady Circi visit earlier this morning?”
The guard’s gaze darts at me and back at the prince. “To pick up Miss Calico.”
“And to deposit her family,” Prince Kevon snarls, impatience lacing his voice. “Do not for one minute presume that the authority of the lady-at-arms exceeds that of the crown prince.”
The guard steps aside and lets us into a hallway, where a female guard rushes toward us. “Your Highness,” her voice shakes. “Colonel—”
“Where are you holding the Calico family?” asks the prince.
“But Colonel Snath ordered me to bring you—”
“I will not ask you again,” he barks.
My heart somersaults, and
