As the assassin at the door turns to her companion, my thoughts coalesce. “I promise to convince Prince Kevon to exchange untainted staple crops in exchange for the equipment you use to mechanize your agriculture.”
The ambassador nods.
My tongue darts out to lick my dry lips. “We can also discuss what you need from Phangloria in exchange for maintaining life-saving medical technology and…” I gulp, trying to stop my voice from trembling. “And the networks that support our country.”
“Very well.” The ambassador offers a thin hand.
We shake on the agreement, not caring that it’s soaked with my sweat. He feels like bones encased in soft flesh, but I can’t think about that until he stops those assassins from reaching the top of the stairs.
I tighten my fingers around his hand. “Please, save them.”
Mouse taps a command on the tablet. An explosion fills the bottom-two screens. On the top-right, balls of fire smash through the window.
Cold shock barrels through my insides with the force of a truck, and I drop onto my hands and knees. The noose around my neck tightens, and I can no longer breathe. My vision turns black, and it feels like my insides have disintegrated with the explosion. After agreeing to their demands, the Amstraadi tricked me into ordering everybody’s deaths.
“Easy, now,” Mouse says with a chuckle.
Mouse wraps an arm around my back and helps me to my feet. My limbs are so heavy that I can barely support my weight, and tears blur my vision. They’re gone. Destroyed by people who murder each other not for ambition but for entertainment.
Maybe I should have walked out, maybe I should never have played along, but it seems like they’ve toyed with me since the moment I threw a tomato at Prunella Broadleaf’s face. I blink, letting hot tears roll down my cheeks, only to find Ambassador Pascale staring at me with a maniacal grin.
“We evacuated them the moment Queen Damascena gave the order to seize your parents.” His watery eyes widen expectantly through his glasses.
My mind blanks. “What?”
Mouse taps another command on the screen, bringing up an image of Mom and Dad huddled together in the back of a van. The twins sleep within contraptions that strap their little bodies to the seats next to Mom.
A hand claps over my mouth, its fingers trembling like leaves in a breeze.
“Your family didn’t die in the explosion,” says Mouse. “We’re transporting them to the Amstraad embassy, where they will enjoy a stay in our luxury apartments.”
My gaze darts from the ambassador’s twinkling eyes to Mouse’s symmetrical grin of perfect teeth that glow in the light of the computer screen. I turn my eyes back to the ambassador, who winks.
Mouse squeezes my shoulder. “We’re using this segment to advertise the Princess Trials on our most popular show. If you would like to speak to your mother and father, just repeat the words, ‘My name is Zea-Mays Calico, and I’m an April fool.’’
“What?” I shake my head from side to side. “They’re alive?”
“Just say your name, followed by a statement that you’re an April fool.’’
I stagger back a few steps. “Why did you let me think they were dead?”
Both men erupt into laughter, and the ambassador rocks forward.
“April fool, Miss Calico,” he says between wheezing chortles. “I haven’t seen a reaction like yours in years!”
I swallow several times in quick succession as the words sink in. This was a trick so that people could laugh and tune into the Princess Trials for more. “But…”
“Would you like to speak to your parents?” asks Mouse.
Adrenaline surges through my veins, and every muscle in my body tenses with the urge to lash out with feet and fists. How dare they toy with my emotions? How dare they use Mom and Dad like pawns? How dare they record such a moment to broadcast to an entire country?
Ambassador Pascale makes a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat, and my jaw tightens with contempt. “Everyone has their weaknesses, Miss Calico,” he says. “Your family is yours.”
“And yours?” I ask through clenched teeth.
The older man chuckles. “My country, I suppose. Now, say the words, and you may speak with your parents.”
I suppress the urge to rage at these sadistic monsters and force calming breaths in and out of my nostrils. “My name is Zea-Mays Calico, and I’m an April fool.”
Mouse taps the screen. “Mr. and Mrs. Calico, can you hear me?”
Dad turns his head from side to side. “Who is this?”
My heart leaps. “Dad?”
“Zea?” says Mom. “What’s happening? Some guards grabbed your father in his cornfield and then brought him home. Now another group of people is saying we’re in danger.”
“They’re taking you to a safe place.” I inject as much false cheer into my voice as I can muster and try not to cause them alarm. “I’ll see you soon.”
The lights turn on, and Mouse taps the screen, making it go blank. Ambassador Pascale sweeps his arm toward a door. “Let’s join the others on Hesiod Hill.”
I shake my head. “But my parents—”
“We will safeguard the future queen’s parents.” Mouse slips the tablet into the inside pocket of his military jacket and places a hand on the small of my back. “Everyone has evacuated the building, and they’ll soon know you’re missing. Hurry.”
We rush through darkened hallways leaving the Ambassador trailing behind. Mouse’s jacket emits a faint light that illuminates stone walls that look like they’ve been excavated with one of those pickaxes Soil Builders use to break through hard ground.
My mind whirls with what I’ve just seen. The explosion of my house and those assassins, Mom, Dad, and the twins once again held captive. Mouse and Ambassador Pascale must have known I would agree to their demands, otherwise they wouldn’t have stolen my family and installed explosives in the house before the assassins arrived.
The corridors wind and twist
