The Princess Trials (The Princess Trials #1)(41)



I study his profile. Wisps of black hair fall from his face and catch the light, reminding me of clear mornings when it’s still dark and slithers of light poke out from the horizon. It’s a vibrant indigo that darkens into black.

“You shouldn’t associate with a traitor,” he says.

His words snap me from my musings. “She’s innocent. Her father—”

“Gemini Pixel did nothing to report her father’s treachery and should have been loyal to Phangloria—”

“And betray her own father?”

He nods. “Of course.”

Annoyance creeps over my skin and tightens my features. Prince Kevon will never need to worry about divided loyalties. Everything that’s wrong about Phangoria benefits people like him. I preferred him as the blond guard with the bleached hair who didn’t speak.

Folding my arms across my chest, I say, “Forgive me for speaking out of turn, Your Highness.”

“You may speak freely in my presence,” he replies.

“What kind of child gets their parents executed?”

His lips tighten. “You fail to understand the seriousness of Leonidas Pixel’s treason.”

My jaw clenches so hard that the muscles on the sides of my face ache. How could he speak so casually about such injustice? Every word that spills from the prince’s lips confirms what we learned in Red Runner meetings. The Nobles and Royals treat people of other Echelons as disposable tools for their selfish means.

It’s an effort to keep the fury out of my voice, but I say, “Jimeno Montana presents only good news to us down in the sticks. I only found out today that there was a tsunami.”

“Beyond the mountains, nine-hundred miles away from where you live, and not a concern for Harvesters.” He shakes his head. “My point is that the nation is watching you consort with the daughter of a traitor. Add your juvenile crimes to the mix, and you look like a rebel.”

I draw in a sharp breath between my teeth, and my shoulders stiffen. Had I been that obvious?

Prince Kevon quickly adds, “I know you’re loyal to Phangloria.” His voice is apologetic, and he fixes me with his dark eyes. With the sun on his back and his thick lashes obscuring my view, it’s hard to tell their color. “Your motives for joining the trials are pure, but no cameras caught your heartfelt words.”

I can’t hold his gaze for long. My insides squirm with the indignity of having a prince think I’m yearning for his pompous ass, so I nod at the health monitor flashing in his ear. “That Amstraad device records everything.”

He clutches it in his fingers. “Tinkering with feeds meant for medical and security purposes is what got Gemini Pixel punished.”

“And a blameless girl faces execution because a man followed orders he couldn’t refuse.”

A muscle in his jaw flexes, but he doesn’t reply.

I inhale a long, ragged breath. What have I done? My mission is to search the palace for secret entrances, not to anger the prince. Part of me is still irritated that he disguised himself as the amiable Sergeant Silver. Even though his hair and eye color have changed, I still think of him as that guard.

“Sorry,” I murmur.

He turns to me and frowns.

“For speaking out of turn,” I murmur. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Please don’t apologize for speaking your mind,” says Prince Kevon. “How am I supposed to get to know you if you treat me like a superior?”

I wonder if that was why he disguised himself as a guard, but I’ve already said enough and don’t want to ruin my chances of reaching the palace. Something about what he says makes a hysterical laugh bubble up to my throat. Prince Kevon is the superior of everyone in this Echelon system apart from his mother and father.

“You find me amusing?” he asks.

I shake my head and bite down on my lip. This is so unlike me. Maybe there’s something in the water.

“Would you care to share the joke, Zea-Mays?” His eyes twinkle.

“Um…” I lick my lips. “Do you promise not to get annoyed?”

He raises a shoulder. “I can’t make any guarantees, but I promise not to have you beheaded.”

My stomach drops. “Can you really—”

“Of course, not,” he says with mock exasperation. At least he no longer wants to know why I was laughing.

We walk alongside a row of tall, conical trees planted so close together that they form a hedge. The breeze carries a menthol scent that fills my nostrils and soothes my frazzled nerves. I can’t repeat yesterday’s outburst. It’s vital to the mission to stay calm, befriend the prince, and progress to the palace round. There might also be other benefits to faking an interest in him.

“You do realize that I don’t have the authority to hand out death sentences,” he says. “The Pixel case is a rarity.”

Something in his voice tells me he believes what he’s saying, and I’m not sure how to respond.

“You disagree?” he asks.

“Things like that are common all over Phangloria,” I say.

“What do you mean?”

I tell him the account that Krim, Forelle, and the others gave of the guard who got stung by a jimson wasp and fell unconscious. Prince Kevon furrows his brows throughout the tale, appearing to disapprove of the guard’s attempt to force himself on a Harvester girl. I don’t name Forelle. If he cared enough, he would look up the report.

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