The Princess Trials (The Princess Trials #1)(60)

Maybe riling up the bronco is a common game tactic, but they won’t stop coming at me with loaded questions. On the other side of the table, Prince Kevon is trying to stop Ingrid and Rafaela from coming to blows.

“Phangloria is a wonderful country,” I snap.

“But you don’t agree with the way it’s run,” says Sabre. “The Foundling Echelon, for example—”

“They’re not technically Echelons,” I say.

Prince Kevon breaks away from the bickering Nobles and addresses Sabre. “If you have any ideas for improving Phangloria, I would love to hear them.”

She points at me. “I thought Zea-Mays Popcorn was a Foundling—”

“I’m a Harvester.” I ignore the stupid taunt about my name.

“Ladies.” Prince Kevon folds his napkin and places it on the bowl. “I will not tolerate this petty bickering. If you cannot comport yourselves with dignity and grace, I will have you removed from the Trials.”

My lips tighten, and I turn to Sabre, whose freckles now stand out against her paling face.

“Zea,” says the prince. “In your rehearsal, you mentioned that your mother spent her childhood in the Barrens. Would you care to discuss the matter with me over a walk?”





Chapter 17





The girls around the table fall silent as Prince Kevon pulls back his chair and stands. Sabre casts a worried look at the head table, where the Amstraad ambassador tilts his head toward the queen but fixes his gaze on us.

A moment later, the entire dining room falls silent. A sea of faces—from the other contestants, the staff, and the camerawomen—turn in our direction. I’m certain that our bickering will feature heavily in tonight and tomorrow’s televised highlights of the Princess Trials.

As Prince Kevon walks toward me around the table, Lady Circi and Garrett rise from their seats, looking like they want to intervene.

Prince Kevon holds out a hand. “Stay. Enjoy your meal. I’m not going far.”

He offers me his hand. “Walk with me.”

Excitement skitters up my spine. Prunella warned us that the first trial was our last opportunity until the palace round to see Prince Kevon alone, yet he chose me for an impromptu one-to-one. With Lady Circi and Queen Damascena busy entertaining the ambassador, I might just get a chance to visit the palace.

Ryce’s words rattle through my skull, and my cheeks heat. How on earth is a girl who has never so much as kissed a boy supposed to coax a prince into an invitation to his home?

Inhaling a deep breath, I force down my blush. The Red Runners taught us basic combat, not advanced seduction.

My hand slips into his, and I let him guide me up from my seat. The action feels like something from another world, where the girls who guards use and discard like trash are considered ladies worthy of deference by princes.

We walk through the dining room with every head turning in our direction. No chatter or click of spoons on china muffles our footsteps, and my heart clatters faster than an escaping lizard.

One of the servers in burgundy vests opens the door with a deep bow, and we step out into the hallway.

“I’m sorry about those ladies,” he says.

My head tilts to the side. “You didn’t encourage them.”

“It’s my fault they turned so aggressive. If I had—”

The door behind us opens, and Garrett steps out, followed by two camerawomen. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Prince Kevon shakes his head. “Keep Briar company.”

Garrett pauses, as though wanting to argue. I glance at the camerawomen who stand at a respectful distance filming Garrett from the back. He shakes off whatever he was about to say and opens the dining room door again. “Enjoy the fresh air.”

He steps back into the room, but the women don’t follow. Prince Kevon huffs out a breath. “I will return Miss Calico before the end of the evening. For now, I wish to spend some time alone.”

They step inside the dining room without a word, and a layer of tension melts from my shoulders. It’s stupid that I’m more worried about what thousands of people I’ve never met think of me when the prince at my side might have the power to order my execution.

Now that we’re alone, I slide my hand away from his, making him frown. After Ryce’s message of love, the last thing I want is to encourage any kind of physical affection.

Prince Kevon nods, and we walk down the hallway to a set of doors. “Forelle says you wanted to see the botanical gardens.”

I bite down on the inside of my cheek. Was the prince asking questions about me, or did my friend volunteer that information? “Where is she today?”

“Garrett’s sister is taking her to the ice rink.” At my blank look, he explains that it’s a winter biosphere set within the botanical gardens. “The domes are open. Would you like to see them?”

My mind races for ways to ask him to take me to the palace, but my empty stomach takes control. “Only if there’s something to eat.

I’m kicking myself as Prince Kevon grins and leads me down a stairwell to another underground space with a mass of vehicles. He stops at a sleek, silver car on a charging pad with a flat roof of solar panels that stretch down to its hood. It looks like something out of an old documentary but far more streamlined.