Player's Princess (A Royal Sports Romance)(138)

“Anna.”

“Anna, listen to me. No harm will come to you. You made a mistake.”

“Francois said America was better last year,” she says, clutching my dress hard in her little fingers. “He went away and never came back.” She starts to sob harder. “Don’t take me away.”

The prince reaches for her then pulls his hand back abruptly.

“I want my mama.”

She hugs me tighter, as if I’ll have to do for now. I hug her back.

The prince glares at me then ducks to the door, pulls it open, and barks an order.

“I want this girl’s mother brought here now. Find her and bring her here. Give the child to her and send them both home. Now.”

“I’m not letting go of the kid until her mom gets here.”

“You presume to tell me what you will and will not do?”

“If you drag her away and send her off to some camp, you might as well send me with her.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

The girl is just out and out sobbing now, her face buried in my chest. I rub her back and rock, trying to soothe her.

No one speaks until the door opens again. It must be the kid’s mother, because she detaches from me and runs over to her, leaping into her arms. The woman, dressed in dark-blue coveralls with a kerchief on her head, stares at the prince like he’s going to unfold into some terrible monster and devour her.

“Go home. Take the girl with you.”

She nods and bows, still holding her daughter in her arms, and backs away out of sight before she turns and runs, her feet slapping quickly on the tile floor.

“Close the door,” the prince commands.

When it slaps shut he rounds on me. He doesn’t finish a single word before I slap him.

His eyes widen and he stares, astonished.

I hit him again, with the other hand. He stumbles a half step.

“Go ahead, cut my hands off. I figured I might as well give you an excuse to do both. Call it a package deal.”

He grits his teeth and looms over me. “How dare you. I should have shut you up—”

“Your perfect little world is so wonderful.” I cut him off in a saccharine tone. “They just love it here. They love it so much that half an hour of silly questions and they’re ready to give it all up.”

“You—”

“How many, my prince?”

“How many what?”

“How many kids have you taken away from their parents because they asked the wrong question? Had the wrong idea?”

“Not many—”

“One is too many!” I scream, jabbing my finger at the door.

“Do not take that tone with me.”

“Why not? I’ve seen what you are. You’re a monster. A total monster. I hate you.”

“I…” he starts, clenching his fists. “Why do you have to test me this way?”

I flinch back, almost thinking he will actually strike me when he moves, but he grabs the teacher’s desk and heaves the entire thing across the room in one furious burst of motion. It crashes against the wall, digging a big gouge in the drywall before it lands in a bent heap. He turns around and rams his fist into the chalkboard then pulls it back, clutching it.

When he turns around, I’m inches from his face.

“You won’t hurt me,” I say, very softly.

“No, no you’re right, I won’t hurt you. I am not a monster. I don’t want to be a monster.”

“It’s easy, isn’t it, when you don’t have to see them? It’s easy to order Melissa to be locked up forever and lose her mind when you don’t have to watch. It’s easy to order children be stolen from their parents if you don’t have to see them screaming and crying and begging for their mother. I know what you are, now. I know why the armor, and the castle.”

He shakes his head.

“You’re a coward. You’re afraid of the truth. You’ve known I was right all along.”

“I protect my people—”

“This isn’t protection. This is torture, do you understand me?”

“I will not let them be harmed—”

“By anyone but you. You put up walls around them to keep them safe from some imaginary danger, but this place isn’t a fortress, Kristoff. It’s a prison. You’re punishing everyone for a crime they didn’t commit.”

“We talked about this before. In your country you need to fear some criminal taking everything from you, here no one needs to fear that. No one needs to fear they will be left to die if they fall ill, no one will go without food or a roof over their head…”

“No one can make a choice. Goddamn you, look at this place. Look at what you’re doing to these children. My goddamn dress is the only color they’ve ever seen in their school. Children need art and music and playtime, not…this. The desks are bolted to the floor! What’s wrong with you?”

His voice cracks.

“I just want them to have safe lives…”

“What about happy lives? Or is it just because you’re not happy, no one else can be, either? Because you lost somebody, the whole country has to live in mourning forever?”

He stands to his full height and grits his teeth. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He edges closer. “Careful, Persephone. My patience has its limits, even for you.”