The Princess Trials (The Princess Trials #1)(40)
I believe her. The fading scars on my back are a testament to the unfair punishments. Ten lashes for catapulting stones at a guard harassing an innocent girl. After the second whipping, I made sure that no guard would ever identify me as his attacker.
We walk a wide perimeter around the large birds and stop at a wooden bench, where we both sit. Considering there might be hidden cameras anywhere, I wait to see if Gemini wants to continue speaking.
She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and stares at a pair of birds fighting. The birds bend and straighten their S-shaped necks and swipe at each other with curved beaks. If I had to guess, the taller ones fighting are the males, and the smaller birds with shorter and paler plumage necks are female.
“Queen Damascena ordered him to release some footage from an Amstraad monitor,” she whispers. “Now, he’s being punished for the illegal transmission of confidential data.”
“That’s it?”
As she nods, a tear falls down each cheek.
My chest tightens with the unfairness of her situation. “What would have happened if he refused her request?”
“Prison.” She shrugs. “And enough electro-correction to teach him not to refuse the order of a superior.”
The fighting birds take flight, and we gaze into the tranquility of the pond for several minutes. Morning sun caresses our faces, but it lacks the harsh glare from the Harvester region. There’s a humidity in the air that bathes the sinuses, and clouds hang in the sky. The Oasis would be perfect if it wasn’t for the Nobles and those who enforce their rules.
My stomach growls, and I clutch my middle. Breakfast at home is before sunrise, and my body hungers for something other than Smoky water and coffee.
“We’d better head back for breakfast.” I stand, casting the birds splashing in the water a wistful glance.
Gemini nods and follows me through the grounds and back toward the building. It’s just like the one I saw from the window early yesterday morning. Seven stories tall with large windows on a black roof and wider than my entire street in Rugosa. From behind, it’s impossible to tell that it faces a street.
“What is this place?” I ask.
“Barracks for the Royal Navy.” She turns around and points to a royal insignia I don’t recognize. “Most of them have been deployed to deal with the aftermath of the tsunami beyond the mountains.”
My thoughts pause for a second, and I recall a geography lesson about water-based natural disasters that I thought were irrelevant. Although Phangloria borders the sea, nobody lives beyond the Smoky Mountains. A wall cuts through its foothills to keep out feral animals.
We pass a clump of sunflowers with heads too small to produce edible seeds. I ask, “What happened out there?”
Gemini plucks a flowerhead. “That’s what they’re trying to find out.”
A jolt of panic shoots through my heart, and I glance from left to right. If anyone saw her theft… I shake off those thoughts. What on earth could they possibly do to a girl already under a death sentence?
As we approach a hedge, female voices ring through the air. One person shouts a command, and the others follow. It reminds me of training with the Red Runners.
The twelve Amstraadi girls form two lines of six. One of the girls in the middle, a pale red-head, shouts commands, and the girls respond with synchronized replies. They march forward in unison, punch right and hold.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“Amstraad is a military society,” Gemini replies. “Everyone is very disciplined.”
I bite down on my lip and watch their next moves. The girls step forward, thrust a knee up at an invisible opponent, twist away and then back with an elbow strike. Their movements are so fast that they slice the air with whipping sounds.
My throat dries. “They’re so…”
“Formidable?” asks Gemini.
“Dangerous.” I exhale a ragged breath. “Are they soldiers?”
“Everyone in the Amstraad Republic works for the army,” she replies. “Even the people who manufacture all the healthcare devices.”
“Right,” I say, but unease settles in my belly like the spores that cause leaf mold on tomato trees.
It still makes no sense to me that the leaders of Phangloria would allow the Amstraad Republic so much influence when they work so hard to suppress the people who grow their food.
The girls make synchronized spins, flying kicks, palm thrusts, filling the air with their shouts. Tension tightens the muscles of my shoulders, and trepidation ties knots through my insides. They move like twelve bodies controlled by a single mind.
“Zea,” says a familiar voice.
Prince Kevon stares down at us. Gemini bobs into a deep curtsey, and I do the same, only without the poise.
“Walk with me,” he says. When I turn to Gemini, he adds, “Alone.”
My pulse quickens. I’m not sure if it’s because of the display of Amstraadi might, my opportunity to turn spy, or because I have the attention of a prince.
“See you later,” I say to Gemini, who nods and turns back to the Amstraadi girls.
A boulder of dread sinks into my stomach, slowing my movements. What on earth does Prince Kevon want to say to me?
Chapter 12
Prince Kevon walks in the opposite direction to where Prunella Broadleaf said we should return. I cast the building a final glance and follow the prince. His strides are long, making me jog to catch up. As we pass the end of the hedges, the sounds of the girls’ shouts fade, allowing him to talk, but he remains silent.