The Princess Trials (The Princess Trials #1)(71)

“The nation is curious about your origins,” she replies with a gentle smile.

Casting a glance at the camera, I say, “I don’t understand.”

“Everyone wishes to know what kind of people birthed the bucking bronco.” She sweeps her arm toward the wall, which turns from white to black. Images of cornfields flash through the screen, ending in one familiar sight. “Netface.”

I gape at a still picture of my house. It looks so small and shabby compared to the stone structures of the Oasis, and the surroundings are more yellow and drier-looking on camera.

“The network is in Rugosa?” I ask.

A soft snort escapes her nostrils. “Hardly.”

One of the camerawomen gets into position at the end of the room and nods at Prunella.

She leans forward, steeples her fingers, and smiles. “I’m here live with Phangloria's favorite fool, Zea-Mays Calico.”

My mouth drops open, but I don’t rise to the bait. Did Prunella just make that up, or is that really what they’re calling me?

“Zea, do you miss your parents at all?” she purrs. “We’ve never heard you speak about your family. One would think you were ashamed of your humble beginnings.”

“That’s not true,” I say with my brightest smile. “Every time I taste something wonderful or see one of the many wonders in the Oasis, I wish my brothers and parents were here to share the experience.”

Her brows waggle. “And last night with Prince Kevon? I’m sure your mother won’t approve of what you showed him in the flowerbeds.”

“Last night, someone close to the prince died,” I say with more bite in my voice than I intend. “It’s a sad day for all when a young life is so brutally cut short.”

The smirk on her face fades into a mask of horror. Since this is a live broadcast, she won’t be able to ask her precious camerawomen to remove that footage.

“Of course,” she says. “We’re all devastated to lose poor Rafaela van Eyck. She is with Gaia now, and no cheap substitute can replace her.”

Her barb might have stung if I actually wanted the prince, but I give her a sage nod. “Let’s put my parents on before you say something even more tasteless.”

The image of our house disappears from the screen, replaced by a shot of Mom and the twins. They’re sitting on her lap and waving into a screen that looks a mere foot away from their sticky hands.

It’s only been days since I’ve left, but seeing them makes my heart ache. I’ve never been away from my family for longer than a half a day and can’t believe how thin and drawn they look compared to the people I’ve met here.

“Zee!” says Yoseph. “We saw you on OasisVision.”

“Will you save us a tomato?” asks Flint.

“Hello boys, have you been good for Mom?” I ask.

“Yes,” they chorus. Before Mom can get a chance to speak, Yoseph tells me Sharqi and her babies have gone missing.

My throat dries, and I smile wider to keep the alarm out of my expression. I don’t tell her that my kakapo has flown to the Oasis. Prunella might make a huge show of having the poor bird executed.

“What charming boys,” Prunella says in a tone that means the opposite. “But we really wanted to hear from your parents. Mrs. Calico, what do you think of your daughter’s burgeoning relationship with Prince Kevon?”

Pride shines in Mom’s eyes. “He’s a very handsome young man, and I’m sure he will make a strong king. I’d be delighted if he chooses my daughter, but it’s too early in the contest to comment.”

Warmth spreads across my chest, and I smile. Mom combines humility and poise and quiet strength.

“A nice way of saying she doesn’t have a chance,” says Prunella.

“It’s not my place to speculate on which young lady is right for Prince Kevon, Miss Broadleaf.”

Prunella’s smile freezes at Mom’s lack of deference. “It’s customary for the lower Echelons to refer to the Nobles as Master or Mistress. Did they not teach you that in the Barrens?”

“Forgive me,” Mom says. “I thought the rule only applied to those born into the Echelon, those who have earned a place through supreme excellence or those not discarded by their Noble spouses.”

My jaw drops. Prunella’s husband left her? Where on earth did Mom get that gossip?

“Thank you, Mrs. Calico and the twins,” Prunella says through clenched teeth. “Those corn husks won’t clear themselves.”

I turn to Prunella and smirk. “Mom’s happily married, and she stays at home looking after the household.”

“And she’s done a wonderful job of turning you into the polished young lady you aren’t.”

A laugh huffs from my chest. Everyone watching has already seen Prunella match wits with a Harvester housewife she implied more than once was a Foundling. It’s her who looks like an idiot, not Mom.

A gloved hand lands on Mom’s shoulder, and I clench my teeth. The black leather could only belong to a guard. Harvesters don’t even get to use the materials for shoes.

“How are you transmitting from Rugosa?” I ask.

“A friendly Guardian volunteered for the job,” she says with her voice full of renewed cheer.

My smile falters. Are they watching my parents, now?