The Princess Trials (The Princess Trials #1)(36)
Less than twenty minutes later, Prunella’s assistants walk us down the stairs to a large dining room. A head table takes center stage on a raised platform with thirteen seats. In the main part of the room are eight round tables.
Closest to the stage are three tables arranged in a row. The two at the front left and right remain unoccupied, as is one at the back of the room. An entourage of assistants, including camerawomen and yesterday’s co-host stand by the far wall.
I pause at the doorway, surveying my surroundings. Every girl wears identical jumpsuits, but it’s not difficult to tell who belongs to which Echelon.
Most of the Nobles have blue-black hair, save for one whose glossy chestnut hair forms gentle waves around her delicate features. They sit elegantly with their elbows off the table but don’t engage in conversation.
Behind them and to the left, the Artisans’ hairstyles are more varied, and they chat amiably among themselves. Next are the Guardians, who sit stiffly in their seats, but they don’t have the same hard-faced expressions as Berta.
At the far end of that row are the Industrials, who sit with stooped postures and dark circles under their eyes. They look the oldest of the Echelons and remind me of plants that have wilted beyond saving. The Harvesters, who sit in the back row, look radiant compared to the girls forced to breathe polluted air.
Berta marches to the empty table at the back of the room and sits. Gemini follows. The smaller girl squares her shoulders and curls her fists. I trail after her, wondering if she’s trying to look brave because the footage forms part of her father’s punishment.
Prunella stands on the podium. “Ladies, please settle for a pre-production announcement.”
“Why aren’t we at the palace?” asks the Noble girl with the chestnut hair.
“There has been a change of plan. Twelve girls from all reaches of the Amstraad Republic will join us for an interim round.”
Berta sucks in a deep breath. Even Gemini leans forward to gape. Angry chatter explodes around the tables as girls protest against the new addition.
I turn to Berta. “Interim round. What does this mean?”
“This won’t be a beauty contest for much longer,” she mutters.
“Why?” I ask.
“There’s one thing I didn’t tell you about Amstraadi contests.” Berta pauses, and her lips tighten with annoyance. “They can get extremely violent. You and I should be fine, though. Those Amstraadi girls will only go after those with the best chance of winning.”
Despite my relief, a tiny piece of me bristles at Berta lumping me in the same category as her. I shake off the petty annoyance and ask, “Why?”
Berta raises her brows. “Do you know how precious their technology is to us?”
Before I can ask another question, one of the girls with blue-black hair from the Noble table shouts, “What’s happening? I didn’t sign up for an Amstraadi contest.”
“Neither did I.” The sole brown-haired Noble stands. She’s tall with a figure as slender as mine, but where I’m awkward, her movements have a flowing, willowy grace.
The other girls on her table grumble. I bite down on my lip. If Prunella gives into their demands to exclude the Amstraadi girls, it might mean getting rid of us. Gemini sniffles at my side. Her only chance of survival is if the revolution happens before her public execution.
“Ladies,” Prunella shouts, clapping her palms together. “Ladies! The matter is out of my hands. Anyone who objects to the interim round may bow out now and forfeit her space to a suitable young lady in her echelon.”
Silence spreads around the dining room, and the Noble girls sit.
Prunella exhales a long breath, and the tenseness in her posture relaxes. After rolling her shoulders, she nods at the co-host from yesterday, who hurries forward with his entourage of camerawomen, and Prunella’s harried expression morphs into an excited smile.
The co-host introduces himself as Byron Blake and asks Prunella about the exciting new development to the Princess Trials.
She beams into the camera. “With all these charming new contestants, it’s time to shake things up!”
My eyes bulge. The Trials haven’t even started yet, and she’s already adding obstacles to my mission.
“What can these young ladies expect?” asks Byron Blake.
“An exciting new trial with an educational twist.” Prunella raises a manicured finger.
I lean forward, hoping she’s talking about a written test, but considering everyone’s reaction about the Princess Trials turning into an Amstraad contest, it’s probably going to be dangerous enough to get Gemini killed.
“When the girls have finished their trials, they’ll attend a ball in honor of the Republic of Amstraad. His Excellency, Ambassador Pascal, will bring thirty of his finest young gentlemen to waltz with our young ladies.”
My brows draw together. How precious could this Amstraadi technology be if they’re allowing this ambassador so much influence over the Princess Trials?
“Fascinating.” Byron rubs his chin. “Then what?”
“Then, the public will decide who will join Prince Kevon in the palace for another round of the Princess Trials!”
My ears perk up. Whatever happens, I’ve got to make the public like me enough to be one of the thirty who reach the palace round. I hope the cameras broadcast this to Rugosa, because the last thing I want Carolina and Ryce to think is that I’ve failed.