A glance over the older woman’s shoulder reveals the girl in question. She sits demurely on her bed, reading a book in what is obviously a posture she artfully curated when I knocked. I wouldn’t be surprised if her book were upside down.
She glances up at me, and her languid expression twists into a scowl. With a slam of her book, she rises from the bed and stalks over to the door. As she draws near, my gaze falls to the emerald necklace at the base of her throat. “Oh, it’s you,” she says. Her chaperone gives her a warning look, but Vanessa pays her no mind. Then, with a subtle curtsy, she lets Vanessa take her place at the doorway. “What do you want?”
It takes me a moment to select my words. “I’m here to apologize for us starting off on such poor terms.”
She narrows her eyes. “Is that so?”
This is where she expects me to say I’m sorry, but the words are so false I can’t bring myself to utter them. Instead, I lean a little closer. “Can I tell you a secret?” Her only answer is to cross her arms. I sigh, as if what I’m about to say pains me deeply. “Do you promise not to tell a soul?”
Her scowl slips and I see curiosity take its place. “Very well.”
“I…ran away.”
She lifts a brow. “From what?”
I sigh again, letting my eyes unfocus. “Last year, my father tried to arrange a marriage for me to a fae prince. I didn’t love him, and…I ran away. I came to Lumenas instead to live a life of my own. My father doesn’t know I’m here.” Each word is true and falls off my tongue with ease.
“So?” She shrugs.
“I promise you, I never meant for anyone here to find out I’m a princess, or that I saved Brother Dorian. But both are true. I am Princess Maisie, daughter of King Ronan of the Sea Court, and the night Brother Dorian was shipwrecked, I escorted him across the border.”
“Why didn’t you want anyone to know?” There’s still skepticism in her eyes, but her posture has grown somewhat relaxed.
“If I confessed, I could cause a scandal and my father would learn I’m here.” While the last part is technically true, it does well to skirt around the truth.
“So…what? You wanted to try to win Brother Dorian’s heart anonymously?”
“If he knew I was both a princess and the fae who saved him, well, that would be a little unfair, wouldn’t it?”
She watches me through slitted lids, her eyes lighting on the tips of my pointed ears. “If you didn’t want anyone to know, why did that reporter have you on record for confessing both things?”
I shake my head and give a grave look. “I swear, I never said either of those things to him.” It’s true. Zara did.
“Why are you telling me this?”
I force my lips into a kind smile. “While we may not like one another, you treat me like a regular person and not like a princess. I…” I pause to sort through my words again. “I appreciate not being put on a pedestal for being royal in this competition. Even so, I ask that you please respect my privacy and not bring up the subjects I’d rather not speak of in front of others. It’s hard enough evading questions from Mr. McCreedy, not to mention Brother Dorian himself. And when the other contestants get involved…I’d just rather not have a repeat of last night’s debacle.”
She lifts her chin. “I didn’t mean for the other girls to get involved last night. It wasn’t pleasant for me, either, you know. Franny was quite rude if you recall. Did you hear what she said? She said she only wanted to stay in the competition to see me leave first. It was practically a threat.”
“I do recall,” I say, lowering my voice to a whisper. “She doesn’t seem to like you one bit.”
“You don’t have to rub it in,” she says with a scoff.
“Apologies. Well, I should get back to my room. The initiates will be here soon to escort us to the ceremony.” I take a step back, then make an effort to pause, my gaze locked on the emerald pendant at her throat. “Miss Courter, I must say, that is a gorgeous necklace.”
Her face brightens in a haughty smile. “Thank you. It’s from my mother. She also gave me—” She freezes, her hands clamped around her empty wrist. “Where is my bracelet?”
I train my features into an expression of concern. “I haven’t seen you wearing a bracelet since I came to your door.” That’s a fact. When I last saw it, I came not to her door but walked through her bedroom wall courtesy of the Twelfth Court.
She turns to her chaperone. “Mrs. Nolan, when did you last see me with my bracelet?”
The woman stammers, shaking her head. “I don’t recall. I’m certain you had it on this morning.”
“Look for it! I can’t go to the ceremony without it.”
“I think I saw you wearing a bracelet when you came to my room last night,” I say.
She sneers at me, our temporary truce clearly evaporated. “Is that so? Well, you seem far too interested in it.”
