The Princess Trials (The Princess Trials #1)(109)

The older man inclines his head. “Of course, Your Highness.” He walks to the exit and pauses by the door. “You can be assured of my discretion.”

I glance from the doctor to Prince Kevon, wracking my brains over the unspoken tension. Did whoever rescue me tell the prince what I did to Berta? My knees draw into my chest, and I wrap my arms around my bent legs.

As soon as the doctor leaves, Prince Kevon blows out a long breath and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Did I say something wrong?” I whisper.

“How did you find the underground river?” he asks.

“I thought it was just a cavern.”

Prince Kevon opens a closet and pulls out a white jumpsuit. “Zea, this is very important. You must not tell anybody about what you saw last night.”

Dread lines my stomach. I swing my legs off the bed and pad across the room to where he stands. “What was that place?”

“A network of water-filled caverns that stretch from the Smoky Mountains to beyond the Great Wall.” He closes the closet door and places the jumpsuit in my hands. “What on earth happened to you last night?”

I tell him how Berta and I overpowered the hijackers, how Ingrid and the others tried to hunt me, and how I fell through a fissure in the rock and ended up in the water. Prince Kevon’s eyes widen, and I’m not sure if he believes my outrageous tale.

When I stop talking, he cups the side of my face. “Seeing you with a dagger in your back was horrific. I swear that I will never let you get hurt again.”

My eyes meet his, and the intensity of his gaze makes my heart somersault. I whisper, “That was you in the cavern?”

He nods.

“How did you know where to find me?”

“I’m sorry for spying on you.” His fingers trail down my neck and skim my collarbone, sending tingles up and down my spine. He holds the tiny tomato pendant between his fingers. Pain creases his eyes. “This tracks your location and vital signs. After what happened to Rafaela—”

“Thank you.” I place my hand on his. “This tracker saved my life. As did you.”

He stares into my soul as though he’s reading my deepest thoughts, then his gaze drops to my mouth. My heart skips, and my tongue darts out to lick my dry lips. Prince Kevon is going to kiss me, and I’m going to let him.

“Zea.” His low voice makes my nerve endings tingle.

“Yes?” I whisper.

He squeezes his eyes shut and deflates. Disappointment settles in my belly like a stone. He knows I killed Berta. He couldn’t have missed seeing her body in the underground river. I should explain myself, tell him that the girl meant to drown me, and I was saving my own life, but his lips tighten, and a muscle in his jaw flexes.

“What is it?” The memory of the hijackers comes into sharp focus, along with the violent death of Queen Damascena, and I realize that he’s grieving, and I’ve been self-centered. “Your mother—”

“Is fine,” he says through clenched teeth.

“The king returned with reinforcements?”

He jerks his head to the side. The muscle in his jaw clenches again, and I place my palms on his burgundy jacket. I don’t understand the anger.

“Your Highness?”

“Kevon.” He places his large hand over mine and squeezes. “Please call me by my given name.”

“What’s wrong? Is the queen injured?”

He turns to the window and steps away. “It was part of the Princess Trials.”

I stare at his broad back, trying to decipher his words. Prince Kevon places his hands on the windowsill and sighs. It must be five in the morning, as wisps of dawn light bathe his olive skin and bring out a hint of the indigo in his black hair.

The view outside is of a familiar-looking fountain surrounded by roses. We’re somewhere in the palace.

“Kevon.” I place a hand on his arm. “What is it?”

He turns his head but still doesn’t make eye contact, and dread courses through my insides. Whatever he will say next is going to be awful, and I brace myself for the worst.

Eventually, Prince Kevon clears his throat. “The rebels, the supposed shooting of Montana, my mother, and the driver’s death at your hands. None of it was real.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It was another trial, broadcasted to everyone in Phangloria.”

I stare at his profile, waiting for the words to sink in. That can’t be right—I saw the blood. I felt the bullet wounds and the dagger in the back. I saw those people die.

“What about Gemini?” I ask.

“That part was real, as was the chandelier.” I’ve never heard Prince Kevon sound so harsh. He gazes at me over his shoulder, and one corner of his lips lifts into a sad smile. “After we left through the escape tunnel, medics came to heal the Harvester and Industrial girls. They’re going home tomorrow with—”

“Wait,” I snap. “You played along with this for the television show?”

He turns around with his hands raised. “Not me. Montana and my mother withheld this addition to the Princess Trials to see how I reacted. It was a test of which girl I cherished the most.”

“But you carried Ingrid through that passageway.”

Annoyance crosses his features. “The editors failed to broadcast the part where she twisted her ankle.”