Majesty (American Royals, #2)(83)

“I never pushed you,” she repeated, more quietly this time. “I did put a sleeping pill in your drink—only because I hoped you would drop your guard and do something stupid. You were threatening to tell Jefferson about me and Ethan, and I wanted some kind of leverage over you, like what you had on me. I never thought you would actually get hurt.”

“I know,” Himari said quietly. With those words, all the fight seemed to drain from her.

“I’m sorry,” Daphne said again. “I wish I had just talked to you. But, Himari, I was terrified of what you might do. You wanted to date Jefferson so desperately—”

“It was never about the prince; it was about us!”

Daphne blinked in surprise. Himari pulled her hair over one shoulder, twirling the ends of it.

“Daphne, when I saw you with Ethan, I wasn’t thinking about Jeff at all. I was just…shocked that you could betray someone you claimed to love, without a shred of remorse.” Himari sighed. “After it happened, I kept waiting for you to break up with Jeff, but you clearly had no intention of telling him. And it made me realize—your relationship wasn’t sacred to you. Nothing at all is sacred to you. The only reason you get close to people is because you can use them as stepping-stones on your upward climb!”

A strange, brittle emotion carved through Daphne like a shard of ice. “That’s not true,” she whispered. “At least, not with you.”

Light filtered through the branches overhead, casting lacelike shadows over Himari’s face.

“I didn’t have many friends before you,” Himari said softly. At Daphne’s surprised look she clarified, “I was popular, sure, but only because of my parents’ title. You were the first girl I didn’t have to pretend to like.”

Daphne nodded; she’d felt the same.

“But once you and Jeff started dating, I immediately got bumped down to second place. You were suddenly too busy for me. And whenever we did hang out, it was still about Jeff—we were going to a palace event to see Jeff, or shopping for something you would wear with Jeff, or talking about Jeff.”

Daphne’s next words were a defensive reflex. “You didn’t act like you hated it. Parties at the palace, free designer clothes—”

“I can buy my own designer clothes!” Himari burst out. “I didn’t care about the perks that came with being in your entourage; I just wanted time with you. I missed my best friend.”

Daphne wrapped her arms around herself, feeling suddenly cold. “I always thought you were jealous.”

“Of course I was jealous,” Himari agreed. “I’d be lying if I said it was buckets of fun playing the quiet sidekick while you became more and more famous. While the press kept gushing on about you, with your perfect face and perfect boyfriend and perfect life. Which no longer included me.”

“No, I mean—I thought you wanted to date Jefferson. That you were trying to break us up so you could swoop in and date him yourself.” Daphne’s words sounded clumsy even to herself.

Himari shrugged. “I went through a phase of crushing on him, sure. But that’s practically required of being a teenager in America. I never actually liked him, not romantically.” Her eyes cut to Daphne’s. “I’m still not convinced that you do, either.”

Daphne couldn’t afford to acknowledge that comment. “I’m sorry, Himari. For being a bad friend, and hurting you, and…”

“And sending me to Japan?”

Daphne let out a ragged breath. “Yeah. For sending you to Japan.”

“You never do things halfway,” Himari agreed, a note of grudging admiration in her voice. She looked down. “Still, we both know my parents wouldn’t have gotten this appointment without your…interference,” she said delicately. “And honestly, I don’t hate the idea of a fresh start.”

A fresh start. Daphne wouldn’t know what to do with that. For a fleeting instant, she let herself imagine what it would be like: if she wasn’t Daphne Deighton, future princess. If she was just…Daphne.

But she’d traded away so many pieces of herself, she didn’t really know what was left. She didn’t really know who she was anymore, underneath the bright, public self she showed the rest of the world.

“Truce?” she suggested, and Himari’s mouth twitched in amusement.

“You stick to your side of the Pacific, and I’ll stick to mine?”

Daphne nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“You know,” Himari mused, “the more I think about it, the more I like the idea of being friends with a princess. I’m sure there’s a favor or two I could call in.”

Daphne tried not to reveal how her heart had skipped at the word. “Are we still friends?”

Himari scoffed, as if it were self-evident. “What else could we be? Only friends know each other well enough to cause this kind of hurt. Only friends push each other past the breaking point.”

“I don’t think most people would agree with your theory of friendship.”

“So what?” Himari said easily. “You and I aren’t most people.”

The two of them stood there for a moment in a strange, weighted silence. The wind picked up, raking its fingers through the trees.

There was an unmistakable similarity between the two young women: a stubborn, steely quality that each of them had seen in the other. It was what had drawn them together, and also what had set them against each other, and, in the end, perhaps it made them more like sisters than friends.