The Princess Trials (The Princess Trials #1)(113)

Concern pinches his eyes, and the warmth of his embrace shifts something deep in my heart. No one has ever looked at me like this before, and it’s addictive.

“You have feelings for her,” says Lady Circi.

Prince Kevon’s brows draw together, and his lips part. He’s already accepted that I don’t love him, but I didn’t dare to ask how he felt about me. Still holding me in his dark gaze, he nods.

My empty stomach flutters, and a dozen protests rise to the back of my throat. I’m on the opposite side of an upcoming war. I’m here to destroy the structure that keeps him in power. I’m supposed to be in love with Ryce Wintergreen.

Despite this, I can’t help losing myself in Prince Kevon’s adoring gaze. He sees me, not a candidate of the Princess Trials, not a Harvester girl or a soldier. The way he holds me, the way he gazes into my eyes says that I’m precious to him.

A lump forms in my throat as I realize that Prince Kevon would never send me on a mission of unknown danger.

“I have my orders, Your Highness.” She folds her arms across her chest. “As the target of attempted murder, Miss Calico is required to give evidence in the Chamber of Ministers.”

My gaze darts to the Lady-at-arms, who is probably exaggerating. With the number of guards available, why would they send Queen Damascena’s right-hand to fetch me? I suspect she’s here on the queen’s request to capture me, but the truth in Prince Kevon’s words has changed her mind.

“We’ll follow you,” replies Prince Kevon.

Lady Circi opens her mouth to protest, and then inclines her head. Without another word, she walks to the black van and climbs in the passenger seat.

Prince Kevon opens the car door. “I’m sorry about this, but we must ensure that Prunella Broadleaf doesn’t hurt you again.”

I slide onto the leather seat and stare at my hands.

Prince Kevon crouches at my side. “You can stay in the guesthouse with Forelle if you wish and make your testimony over Netface—”

“No.” I place a hand over his. “I want to go to Prunella’s trial.”

“Very well.” He brushes a gentle thumb over my ring finger, and it feels like a promise.

As he rises and walks around to the driver’s seat, my heart sinks. Why couldn’t Prince Kevon have been another Harvester, an Industrial, or even an Artisan?

Mom’s voice rings through my ears. She said that I should join the Princess Trials for a chance to influence those in power. I’ve captured the attention of the prince, found a hidden entrance to the palace as well as a source of water that will free the Harvesters from the tyranny of rationing, so why do I feel like I have failed?

Don’t fall in love with the handsome prince. Carolina’s words hit like the lash of a whip, and I bolt upright.

Prince Kevon slides in his seat. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” I say.

“Alright.”

I close my eyes and release my tension in a long breath. If whoever takes over the trials from Prunella is in line with the Chamber of Ministers, they will construe my leaving the armored personnel carrier as leaving the trials. This time, Prince Kevon won’t intervene, and I will tell him that I want to return to Rugosa.

“Say the word.” His deep voice breaks me out of my thoughts. I open my eyes to find him staring at me like I’m his last swallow of water. “Say the word, and I will withdraw from the Princess Trials.”

“I can’t,” I whisper.

Prince Kevon nods and taps instructions into the steering-wheel screen. He probably thinks I need more time to decide, but he’s got to know that not everyone wants to become royal. The car follows Lady Circi’s huge vehicle around the vast lawn, where metal spikes rise from the ground and spray jets of water over the grass.

We drive in silence through a wide street of tall, stone-fronted buildings lined with trees of pink and red flowers. Nobles sit outside glass-fronted stores, enjoying breakfasts served by people in violet uniforms. I wonder if they’re also Guardians but push away those thoughts.

The Chamber of Ministers is another white building constructed along the same lines as the palace, but it’s a lot taller because of the two-story round tower above its domed roof. Beneath the roof are two circular levels and beneath those, a square structure of two double-height stories and a grand entranceway.

Guards stand beneath a triangular roof held by four massive columns, holding scanners to Nobles’ ear cuffs.

Instead of stopping at the entrance, Prince Kevon follows the black van around to the back of the building, where one of the walls contains a metal shutter. A beam of red light scans the van’s front, the shutter rises, allowing the van to enter a small driveway closed off by another shutter.

The first shutter lowers, and red light floods the front seats. I tilt my head to the side. “What’s this?”

Prince Kevon raises his palm. “Recognition security. It scans the retina, handprint, and heat signature of the driver.” He winces. “If something is off, it sends a message to the driver’s Amstraad cuff to analyze their blood.”

That explains why he grimaced. I ask, “Why would they need to know what’s in your blood?”

“To make sure the driver isn’t under the influence of any mind-altering substances.”

“In case hijackers are forcing you to enter the Chamber of Ministers?” I ask.