The Princess Trials (The Princess Trials #1)(18)

I jolt at the ferocity in his tone. “Dad?”

“The bird that stays under cover of the leaves never gets shot. Why?”

My throat convulses. “Because nobody sees it.”

“Don’t be the bird who launches herself out of the trees. Do you hear me?”

I nod, but I can’t work out if he’s trying to warn me not to become the queen or because the other girls might shoot me down or because there’s going to be a revolution. Now, I regret obeying Ryce’s orders to keep my membership of the Red Runners a secret from Dad.

The door opens, and Carolina stands in the doorway with Ryce. Dad’s jaw drops, and all the color leaches from his face. The panicked look he gives me tells me everything.

One, he knows that Carolina leads the Red Runners. Two, he now knows that I’m a member. And three, he also knows that I have joined the Princess Trials on a mission.

“Alright, Mr. Calico,” says the blond sergeant. “It’s Mrs. Wintergreen’s turn.”

No one else can see his expression because his back is to the door, but it’s the same helpless rage he holds back each time I get whipped. Something in my heart crumbles. I’m no longer the girl he knew, and I’m not sure that even the prospect of a revolution will ease Dad’s suffering.

“Mr. Calico?” says the guard.

Dad stands. This time, he’s not avoiding my gaze. The accusation in his eyes slices through me like a scythe. If I fail my mission, if I get caught, it won’t just be me facing execution.

Without a word, he turns and walks out of the room. Carolina’s gaze slides towards Dad as he passes, but from her unchanged expression, I don’t think he made any eye contact.

“We came to wish you the best of luck.” Carolina claps her hands together.

When the door clicks shut behind Dad, the older woman rushes at me for a hug. She’s all bones and angles like me, and it’s more awkward than the soft comfort of Mom or Dad. One of her hands runs down my arm, and her long fingers wrap around my hand.

This is getting awkward. I try to step away, but her grip on me tightens, and she’s interlacing her fingers with mine. My gaze darts to Ryce, who nods and smiles. Carolina presses something warm and metallic into the pad of my thumb, which pulses.

I glance at Ryce again, who gives me the same amiable nod.

Realization slaps me upside the head. It’s a device. As soon as I wrap my fingers around it, Carolina releases me and steps back.

“Congratulations, my dear,” she says in the voice she uses in public. It’s more matronly than a grandmother’s and sounds more patriotic than anything I’ve heard on OasisVision. “I always knew you were destined for greatness!”

“Thank you.” It’s a struggle to keep the tremble out of my voice. I glance at Ryce. “Would you like to sit?”

Carolina clasps my hand and guides me to the sofa, while Ryce takes the armchair opposite and adopts the posture of a king. My heart sinks at the distance between us, but maybe it’s for the best. I’m supposed to be eager to marry Prince Kevon, and the cameras shouldn’t pick up any evidence of our affection.

Ryce places his hands on the chair’s arms. “Well done, Zea.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. “Thank you. I want to make Rugosa proud.”

The slight curve of his lips says he knows that I’m using Rugosa as a code word for Ryce.

Carolina turns to her son. “I wonder if the people at the trials will permit you to send letters from Zea’s family?”

My breath catches. Ryce is a deliverer, one of the few Harvesters permitted to leave the region. His work often involves loading wagons, but he sometimes transports food to the Oasis and even beyond the mountains to Royal Navy ships.

“Do you think that could be possible?” I ask.

“There’s no harm in making a request.” Carolina twists her wedding ring.

I can only nod and imagine Ryce sneaking into the Oasis for midnight trysts. “When do you think—”

The ring buzzes. It’s Vail code—a system of single and double pulses—that spells out the word DOUBTFUL.

My brows draw together. Is Carolina trying to tell me that Ryce will be at the Oasis? I glance across the room, and the gleam in Ryce’s eyes says everything. As the mayor’s assistant, Carolina is responsible for detailed scheduling and can send any of the deliverers to far-flung places.

Warmth fills my chest, and I press my lips together to hold back my elation. With regular visits from Ryce, I’ll have something more to look forward to than the revolution.

Carolina tilts her head to the side and smiles. “What were you going to say, my dear?”

“I was wondering when I would appear on OasisVision.”

“Tomorrow evening, I hope,” says Ryce. “I’ll watch the Princess Trials every day.”

“As will I.” Carolina stands.

My heart pulses a rapid beat. Is she going to leave us alone? I glance at Ryce, who also stands.

Carolina places both hands on my shoulder. “I will pray every night for Gaia to send you guidance through this exciting time.”

“Thank you—”

“Gaia will bless you if you look for the signs,” she adds.

I nod. This is a common phrase old Harvesters use, but Carolina’s tone implies that she and Ryce will communicate using more than the ring.