The Princess Trials (The Princess Trials #1)(67)
A deep, denim blue that’s nearly as dark as his pupils rings the irises. The color bleeds toward the middle in patterns that remind me of a picture I once saw of mountain-tops backlit by a winter sun. Cobalt mixes with steel-blue and white like broken clouds. With thick, black lashes framing this vista, the effect is mesmerizing.
The pain etched on his features tears a hole through my chest, and the part of me that wishes to save everybody yearns to ease his pain.
The monitor on my wrist squeals, and I flinch.
He frowns. “Zea?”
I hold up my arm. “After seeing what happened yesterday, I can’t help but wonder if these things are weapons.”
“There has never been a case of an Amstraad malfunction—”
“But all these electronics are programmed to do whatever you want. Your car drives itself and you ordered food with it. Can’t someone make a health monitor explode?”
His lips part, and his brows draw together. I’m guessing that he’s about to correct me on my explosion theory, but I shake my head.
“Maybe that’s the wrong word.” Words tumble from my lips. Batteries hold electricity, but what happens when they become over-full? They don’t teach us things like that at school, but I’m sure that electricity would spill out the way grain might spill out of an overloaded wagon.
I have to explain myself before he dismisses me as a technology-fearing bumpkin. “But don’t you think it’s too much of a coincidence for her to have survived a fatal fall only for the device that didn’t call an ambulance to kill her with a massive electric shock?”
He dips his head and stares into my lap. The nightgown has ridden up, exposing my thighs, and my stomach plummets with mortification. I place a hand on the armrest for leverage to stand, but he grabs my hand.
“I raised my concerns earlier with Lady Circi,” he says. “She has a team of security officers investigating what happened to Rafaela.”
My lips tighten. According to Berta’s gossip, this entire contest was a ploy to separate Prince Kevon from what the king and queen considered to be a promiscuous actress. It wouldn’t surprise me if the information Gemini’s father obtained for Queen Damascena was related to Rafaela von Eyck’s health monitor.
I can’t voice a word of this because the freedom of over two-hundred thousand Harvesters depends on my successful completion of this mission. Accusing Lady Circi is as good as accusing Prince Kevon’s mother.
A stray lock of blue-black hair swings down from his head and lands on the side of his nose. I smooth it behind his ear. “I didn’t see any of her movies, but she seemed like a really nice person. You must have loved her a lot.”
“She was my dearest friend,” he says.
“I thought you were…” My words trail off. The only thing I knew about Rafaela was what Berta told me.
“Rafaela preferred lovers of her own gender,” he says. “A society like ours frowns on those in relationships that won’t result in offspring. I let the public think we were together for her protection.”
“Oh.” My mind goes blank, and I flounder for words.
In Rugosa, every young person is expected to marry and reproduce. The Nobles reward married couples with extra water rations, which increase with each new birth. Any other lifestyle would mean less to drink.
“Is this the first time you’ve seen someone die?” I ask.
His brows draw together, and he squeezes his eyes shut. My chest tightens. It’s probably too soon to discuss such a painful subject, but I really don’t know how to handle the new revelation about Prince Kevon’s relationship with Rafaela.
Prince Kevon is nothing like I imagined. After having heard Berta’s gossip about how the king and queen commenced the trials to keep them apart, I’m shocked to discover that he was protecting her from persecution.
I gulp. That’s just so noble.
He meets my gaze with red-rimmed eyes. “When I apprenticed at the border, some people would arrive in such a weakened state that they didn’t survive longer than a few days. This is the first time I’ve seen an assassination.”
I nod. “Nobody deserves to die like that.”
Prince Kevon cups the side of my face, and for the first time, his touch is comforting. “And you?”
“There was a man in Rugosa.” My chest tightens to even think about Mr. Wintergreen. “He tried to stop a border guard from attacking a Harvester girl, and the guard killed him.”
His eyes widen, and his lips part. “When? Did the guard see you?”
“Seven years ago.” I release a long sigh, and tears prick the backs of my eyes. “I hid during the attack, but I wish I’d seen his face. I wish I’d done—”
Prince Kevon places a finger on my lips. “You were nine. That guard probably would have murdered you, too.” He wraps his arms around me, and I relax into his embrace. “I’m so sorry. If there’s anything I can do, just ask.”
I shake my head, and something deep within me loosens. That night when a twelve-year-old Ryce screamed at me for letting his father die, nobody pointed out that I’d been too young to do anything, and nobody had pointed out the risk I might have faced from attacking that guard. Of all the people to give me absolution for the biggest burden I’ve carried, I would never have expected it to come from Prince Kevon.