The Princess Trials (The Princess Trials #1)(69)



“Were you out all night with the prince?” Berta asks.

My head still pounds from my encounter with Lady Circi and from the constant buzzing of the watch in my boot. I haven’t had a moment alone, and I’m in no mood to explain that I failed to enter the palace.

Raising a palm, I shake my head. “It’s not what you think.”

Gemini sits up in bed. “The other girls were furious when you both left.”

“Did they say anything?” I ask.

“Ingrid and Rafaela got into a stupid argument, and the Amstraadi girls kept quiet and watched.” Berta shakes her head. “I like a good punch-up, but they were salivating over the girls like they were made of white chocolate.”

Does such a thing even exist? I turn to Gemini, who bows her head and shrugs. “They kept making jabs about my execution.”

My lips part, and I’m about to tell her that Prince Kevon agreed to petition for her pardon, but I give my head a tiny shake. He warned me last night in the botanical gardens about the limits of his power. I don’t want to raise Gemini’s hopes in case he isn’t successful.

As soon as I step into the bathroom to answer Ryce’s call, Gemini follows. We take our showers and get dressed, then the three of us make our way down to the dining room. My nerves are frazzled, and I can’t even focus on the mission right now.

All twelve Amstraadi girls sit around their tables in the first row, each clad in black, while the other tables are half-full with girls trailing in at different rates.

On the side table is the usual fare of sliced fruit and jugs of red juice. My stomach churns as I remember the sensation of blood-soaked locks of hair slopping onto the side of my face.

I lower myself into my seat and stare at the empty place setting.

“Trouble’s brewing,” whispers Berta.

“There she is,” says a snide voice. I don’t need to raise my head to know that it belongs to Emmera Hull. “One of the assistants said she saw you walk into the building looking like you’d spent the night rolling in the hay with His Highness.”

“Are you accusing the prince of not being a gentleman?” I snap.

She flinches, and a flush blooms across her cheeks. Her flaxen hair flops about her face as she shakes her head with feigned horror. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Ladies, may I have your attention?” Prunella Broadleaf stands on the podium. She wears a black trouser suit in a similar style to the one Queen Damascena wore with a black, rimless hat shaped like a pork pie.

I glare at the camera pointed at my face, but the woman doesn’t take the hint and continues filming my reaction. Only one camera is fixed on Prunella, while the others focus on key people around the room.

Cameras point at Ingrid at the Nobles table, Berta, Gemini, Emmera, Sabre at the Amstraadi table and at her black-haired friend whose name I’ve forgotten.

Prunella clears her throat. “Due to recent events, we’re canceling the next trial, and we won’t require anything of you until the ball, where you will face the public vote.”

All the girls turn to each other, presumably wondering what Prunella is talking about. Sweat breaks out across my palms. She had been outside last night as the ambulance took Rafaela away.

“It is my sad duty to inform you that Rafaela von Eyck died last night.”

Chatter explodes across the room. Everyone either knows Rafaela from her work as an actress or noticed her long embrace with Prince Kevon.

Ingrid shoots out of her seat. “How? She was only eighteen!”

Prunella’s lips tighten, and her gaze slides to my table. “Suicide. Rafaela van Eyck was a very troubled young lady.”

A rush of fury shoves me out of my seat. “She didn’t kill herself,” I shout. “Someone pushed her out of the building.”

Prunella tilts her head to the side. “You pushed her?” The camera pointing at Gemini turns to me. “For a vicious murderer, you excel at playing the doe-eyed damsel. Your performance last night was convincing enough to turn the head of our handsome prince.”

My heart thuds so hard that my ribcage reverberates. “What are you talking about?”

“Security cameras picked up footage of a girl skulking through the hallways. We thought it was Rafaela walking to her death, but you’re about the same height and build.” Prunella tilts her head, and malice gleams between her thick lashes. “In the dark, you might even be twins.”

I shake my head. “You’re wrong.”

“Did you push her?” Prunella walks down the podium steps, excited breaths panting through her thin lips. “With Rafaela dead, you can step in to fill the void in Prince Kevon’s heart.”

Nausea ripples through my empty belly, and the pulse in my throat flutters with panic. I don’t look anything like Rafaela von Eyck, but Prunella’s accusations sound realistic enough to make every girl in the room stare at me through sharp, suspicious eyes.

“Admit it.” She strides through the room with her hands clenched into fists. “You pushed that poor girl to her death!”

“No,” I snap. “I was in the car with Prince Kevon when she fell on the hood.”

“Lies,” she snarls. “There’s footage of you entering her room moments before she was pushed.”

My head pounds, and fury rushes through my ears. I won’t let this vindictive wretch ruin my chances of getting through to the palace round with her lies. I won’t let her cast suspicion on me and let the real killer go unpunished.

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