The Princess Trials (The Princess Trials #1)(42)

“What happened to the guard?” he asks.

“I heard he got taken back to his barracks by a colleague, but later that evening, the guards arrested my supervisor.”

Prince Kevon stops walking. “For what?”

“Letting someone get stung by a wasp.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“So is his arrest,” I say. “You were there when it happened.”

He frowns and massages his temple with his fingertips. “A few Harvesters went into custody that evening. I’ll investigate this situation. Acts of nature are hardly the fault of the supervisor who tends to the field.”

I nod, not yet exhaling a sigh of relief. Prince Kevon might forget or decide not to follow through with his promise.

He offers me his arm. “Someone wishes to see you.”

My nose wrinkles. I doubt that Ryce has petitioned the prince for a clandestine meeting. “Garrett?”

“If you like.”

I only place my hand on the crook of his elbow because it might lead to Krim’s freedom. And there’s the chance of gathering information that will help the revolution.

I glance around for signs of cameras then remember that they could be anywhere—on a lamppost, in a tree, hidden deep within the hedge. There’s no limit to the number of methods they can use to spy.

We walk through a gap in the hedge and into an arched walkway filled with glossy dark-green climbing plants with white bell-shaped flowers. Cameras blink within some of their heads, indicating that we’re passing through some kind of high security.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“To the back of the palace grounds.”

My heart skips. It’s not quite the information Carolina seeks. She wants a way to sneak hundreds if not a thousand Red Runners into the palace, but every little bit of intelligence helps.

“Why did you disguise yourself as a guard?” I ask.

He smirks. “Did I?”

“The blond hair, green eyes, the uniform—”

“That was the uniform I wore during my apprenticeship with the Guardians.”

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. “You don’t even look the same as you did on OasisVision.”

He nods. “That will be the digital alteration.”

“What?”

When I pause, Prince Kevon also stops. Now that our feet are no longer thudding the ground, I hear tiny whirrs and clicks and buzzes. I glance up to find that one of the flowers has opened, and a small lens reflects my face. Chills creep over my skin, and I snatch my gaze away.

“If everyone in Phangloria knew my face, I would never complete an apprenticeship or travel around anonymously. That will all change once I take the throne.”

I shake my head and continue down the walkway. “It looks like you’ve already chosen the winner,” I mutter. “Why did you even bother to meet us in disguise?”

“Jealous?”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. “Of course not!”

“Only I remember what you said yesterday.”

“That was about someone else.” The words tumble from my lips before I can stop them, and I curl my fingers into a fist to prevent my hand from clapping itself over my mouth.

Prince Kevon’s grin widens. “Sure, it was.” He places a hand on the small of my back. “I won’t embarrass you any longer.”

Every shred of dignity in my body rears up, urging me to insist that I really was talking about Ryce Wintergreen, a man who is twice as honorable as this smirking Royal. Instead, I shake my head and glance away.

Pride almost jeopardized this mission. I will play my part as the entertainment, act the fool, and strike only when I have helped the Red Runners infiltrate the palace.

The walkway leads to a gate with a screen that reminds me of the computer tablets that took our handprints. A light scans our faces, and with a click, the gate swings open.

We step through a gap in the hedge to a rectangular pool built into the landscape, its edges bordered with rocks and reeds and rushes. It smells of wet earth and sweet clover with a hint of wild mint.

A breath catches in my throat. It’s the most beautiful and verdant thing I’ve ever seen.

Weeping willows line the left of the water and conceal a thatched hut. In front of the structure lies a substantial wooden deck with four wooden loungers and four wooden chairs arranged around a small, matching table.

My gaze sweeps across the space, which is large enough to fit a block of houses in Rugosa. The pool stretches about a hundred and fifty feet and at the very far end, stands a house twice the size of our family home.

“What is this place?” I say, my voice breathy with awe.

“A guest house we’ve reserved for the duration of the trials,” he replies. “It’s one of the few that has a wild pool.”

I shake my head, not quite believing anyone would disturb such beautiful surroundings by swimming in them. “Is that safe?”

“The plants keep the water clean and are far better for the body than chlorine.” Prince Kevon chuckles and sweeps his arm up toward the reeds at the pool’s far-right.

He has the gall to tell me about a study Guardian scientists made that linked the chemicals in water to skin, eye, and lung diseases within the Industrial Echelon. This form of natural pool even contains fish, mollusks, and barnacles to keep the water pristine for the Nobles who want an outdoor swim.