He stands, preparing to leave.
“How do you like it here, Goselyn? Are you finding everything to your liking?” he asks politely, turning back to me.
“Delare is a very nice country, sir.”
“Thank you.” He smiles. “That’s not what I meant.”
I’m only being held captive by an Artificial who is threatening the lives of everyone around me at the whims of my narcissistic cousin, but sure, I’m great, I think, but instead I say, “I’m doing fine, thank you.”
“Is Gand treating you well?” he inquires, putting his hand behind his back as he was trained to do.
I smile, not wanting to answer.
“Gand?” Corinth calls, motioning my keeper over. “How has everything been? Are you two working together well?”
“Goselyn has been managing just fine, Prince Corinth.”
“Very good,” he replies, giving Gand a curious look. “You’re taking care of her, right? Treating her as one of our own?”
“Yes, sir,” Gand assures him, placing his free hand on his shepherd’s hook in an attempt to make the prince feel more at ease. Artificials are programmed to make human-like movements specifically to make humans feel more comfortable around them, even to the point of regularly blinking.
“Good. We want everyone to feel welcome here.” Corinth smiles, nodding to me. It’s amazing how he takes so much time to speak with his Artificials publicly. I’ve had many long talks with mine, but only in private.
Gand takes a step toward us, but then he suddenly leaps back, as if a bee has stung him. Corinth looks as shocked as Gand does.
“Are you all right?” Corinth moves toward him.
Gand’s eyes shift toward the clouds as his system processes what just happened.
“I…I’m not sure what that was.” He takes another step forward, bouncing back as if he’s hit a wall. Gand won’t know it until he recovers the data I deleted, but I programmed him to do that.
“Perhaps you should come inside and have one of the programmers take a look.” Corinth reaches a hand toward the Artificial. “Maybe there’s a glitch in your data.”
Unable to resist, Gand follows him toward the palace as the prince manipulates the key around his neck to force the Artificial to follow.
“Will you be okay on your own, Goselyn?” The prince turns back to me with a concerned look on his face, his brow furrowed kindly.
“Yes.” What other choice do I have? At least Gand won’t be in my hair today.
I take a seat as the prince and the Artificial walk away. For a moment, I consider letting the geese roam free for a while, but I don’t need any extra questions. I go back to tending them properly.
It isn’t long before Arta joins me.
“What happened?” she demands, clearly having heard something.
“The Artificial was asking too many questions. He got close to me and I managed to pop his chip out and program him to stay away from me so that he didn’t expose your little plan.”
She grimaces, wrinkling her nose.
“Fine. Keep it that way. I’m nearly done anyway.”
“You mean we’ll get to go home?” I ask, standing.
“Yes. I just have to get the prince to sign the proposal and then I can remove him.”
My blood runs cold.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, stop being so sentimental, Goselyn. I won’t do it while we’re here. We still have to go home, present the proposal, enact the plan, and then we’ll kill him—you don’t have to watch any of it. All you have to do is keep your mouth shut.”
Before my cousin got his hands on her, Arta never would have spoken to me like that.
My knees wobble, nearly forcing me to pitch forward. Arta’s eyes grow wide for a moment before narrowing.
“Pull it together,” she hisses. Any human-like movements that aren’t a part of an Artificial’s programming could give us away.
“Princess,” the king calls from the hill. “My son is waiting for you inside. He’d like you to join him in his study if you don't mind.”
My first reaction is to curtsy, but I remember just in time and manage to hold still. I wait as Arta accepts his invitation to return to the palace.
Partway up the hill, the king slows. Once Arta is safely inside, he turns to me.
“Hello,” he says in greeting. He’s friendlier than his son—though, I imagine, just as strategic.
“Hello, King Delare.”
“All by yourself today?” He stands with his hands behind his back, his posture as straight as my shepherd’s hook.
“Your son sent Gand in to be looked at by a programmer. He seemed to be experiencing a glitch,” I report.
“Yes, I caught him on the way out, actually. Had quite the story to tell.” He pauses, removing a hand from behind his back to stroke his chin. “It seems he thinks you’re not an Artificial. I wonder why he would think that…”
“I don’t know, sir.” I look down, trying to avoid him as I scoot a goose back.
“I see,” the king muses. “And there’s nothing you would like to tell me?”
“No, sir.”
He pauses, trying to decide what to say next. A swan wanders by us, but he waves for me to leave it alone.
A few dozen yards away, the fountain cascades into itself, creating a never-ending cycle of soothing sound. I wonder if I could hide behind it.
“Perhaps it’s that you can’t tell me.” The king tips his head, examining me.
“I couldn’t say, sir,” I reply.
“I see,” the king says solemnly. “Maybe you’d like to sit with me.”
He motions me over to the log. He’s larger than his son and takes up more space on the overturned tree.
“I would very much like to help you, Goselyn, but I can’t do that unless I know what’s going on. No one is watching us and your princess is behind closed doors. All of my Artificials, robots, and workers have been removed from the area. If something is going on, now is the time to tell me,” he insists. He’s clearly trying to be gentle with me, but the wrinkles on his forehead suggest that he’s worried something is going on.
I don’t trust Arta. She decapitated Fal—or ordered him to be. She’s threatening my mother. Even just now, she told me she’s planning the assassination of a ruling monarch of another country. The king may feel it’s safe, but I know it’s not.
“I truly do not know what you mean, sir.” I reach up, brushing back my hair. Pulling it to one side, I expose the skin on my neck.
“I see,” the king says slowly, eyes widening. “And you’re sure there’s nothing I can help you with?”
“I think the only thing you can do, sir, is help your son. He’s in greater need of it than I am,” I say, praying he understands my meaning. I tip my head to emphasize my point. “Children need their parents to look after them just as much as parents need their children to protect them.”
I hope he understands that I’m doing this to protect my mother. Perhaps he could even find a way to warn her for me.
“You make a good point,” he agrees, standing. “I’ll see to my son. He’s always been good about keeping secrets, as I’m sure your Princess Arta is.
“I hear you’ve been advising my son. Thank you for your help. I’m sure he would like to thank you personally later.” He makes it ten feet before he turns back to me. “I think I shall send a letter to your queen, thanking her for the magnificent representatives she has sent for this diplomatic mission. I’m sure she’ll be quite pleased to hear of it.”
“I’m sure it would mean everything to her, thank you. You’ll want to send that via Channel One so no one accidentally intercepts it.”
“Indeed.” He nods his understanding.
I can scarcely believe my luck. The king of Delare is going to warn my mother of my cousin’s plans. I want to throw my arms around him to thank him, but I hold still. My mother will know what to do to disable Arta’s ability to control the Artificials i
n Sylvane the moment she reads his communication—now I just have to figure out how to survive until she does, and return to take down my cousin.
♛
“Princess.” Corinth greets me by my title, cornering me outside the stable. I eye him warily until he holds up a necklace—a device that prohibits intelligence gathering within a certain radius. It knocks out all cameras and recording devices while looping in old footage. I have something similar at home. “We’re alone.”
“Has your father contacted my mother?” I ask, giving up my wariness over Arta catching us.
“He has. I’m so sorry you had to go through all of this. Your mother is working to shut down Arta’s ability to control the Artificials as we speak. She’ll be safe soon.”
I hope she figured out that my cousin is behind this and didn’t enlist his help. We’ve always been wary of his demands and outbursts, so I’m sure she’s being cautious.
“You’re in danger,” I quickly tell the prince. “Arta is planning to destroy the proposal, and then once it’s been signed, she’s going to remove you.”
“Remove me?” His eyes widen as he takes a step back. “What does that mean?”
“I assume it means you’re going to die,” I try to say gently. “My cousin wants my throne and yours, so he’s trying to take us both out at once after we’ve returned with the proposal.”
“But if she’s not here, how will she manage that?”
“I would imagine that she’s not the only Artificial in on this plan.” I glance around, waving him into the shadows of the building. “It’s entirely possible he has control over some of your Artificials too. Gand must not know, or he wouldn't have pushed things with me, but who knows which of them are working together on this?”
“Why is he doing this—other than simply wanting the thrones?”
“My cousin believes his leadership would be superior, Corinth—he doesn’t think we can handle ruling. He doesn’t want our countries working together.”
“We’ve done just fine until now,” says Corinth bitterly.
“Now, we just have to prove it,” I say.
♛
Corinth nods to me as I trail behind Arta into the parlor—my mother has sent word back that she’s safe.
Let the games begin.
“Princess, have a seat.” Corinth motions toward a fainting couch with a large, ornate gold rim along the tiny fragment of a back.
Arta arranges her skirt carefully as she sits. I quietly follow behind her, taking a seat on the edge of the couch, prepared to go after her control panel if needed.
Corinth begins. “I’ve been thinking about a few addendums to the proposal.” He lays out a few papers on their laps as he sits next to her. “I think it would be beneficial if we could—”
“What is this?” Arta shrieks. She gathers the papers up and shoves them at the prince. “No, we agreed to the original proposal and we’re sticking to that.”
“No, actually, we didn’t, princess. You tried to force me into it, but you never once listened to me. This is what I feel we need to add to make this beneficial to Delare and not just Sylvane.” He tries to hand her the paperwork again.
“You are a fool.” Arta shakes her head in disgust. “I will leave right now and neither of us will have completed our part of the proposal.”
“You can’t be queen without it,” he reminds Arta, jumping to his feet to follow behind her as she hurries toward the door. “But honestly, I don’t mind. I’ve never really had a taste for ruling. You’d be doing me a favor.”
Arta looks at him in shock.
“This hurts you more than it hurts me, Arta,” he says in a darker voice. “If you want me to play along, you have to make this worth my time. You’ve offered me nothing.”
Arta pauses, her face going slack as she processes the information, a telltale sign that she’s an Artificial. When she comes out of it, she blinks.
“I can offer you my hand in marriage,” she says. “We can rule our countries together.”
“No, thank you, you’re not my type,” Corinth quickly replies, infuriating her.
“Well, what do you want?” she demands.
“A robot, for starters.” He grins. “I hear you had one brought here. I’d like to see it. Your robots are quite a bit different than ours here in Delare, so it would be a bit of a novelty.”
“It’s broken.” Her words are biting.
“It’s not,” he says, challenging her. “I saw you bring it in. Go fetch it.”
He waves his hand at her, shooing her toward the tall, oak door. Arta looks like a petulant child about to stamp her foot.
“Goselyn!” She shrieks my name, never taking her eyes off of the prince.
“Let’s all go,” Corinth says, motioning for me to quickly follow.
Arta argues the entire way down the hall that she doesn’t know where Fal is, but Corinth expertly guides her toward the stables, where he knows our things are being stored.
“There he is,” I add when we can finally see my butler strung up on the wall.
“What happened to him?” Corinth yells, acting surprised.
“I told you, he was broken. Your programmers took him apart for scraps.”
“You’re not handing me a robot head,” Corinth snarls. “Go find it a body.”
He swings back to face me, away from Arta.
“This is ridiculous,” he growls at me with a playful wink. He turns back around to face her. “Well?”
Arta huffs and scurries off to find Fal’s missing pieces.
“That will keep her busy for a while.” Corinth grins as he steps toward me.
“Oh?” I try not to blush as he smirks at me.
“I hid the pieces.” He shrugs. His eyes sparkle when he notices my cheeks and he quirks an eyebrow at me. “She’s going to have to make him a body from scratch. I think we should follow her and see what she does.”
He tugs at my hand, keeping a safe distance behind Arta as she scours the stables for anything she can use to recreate Fal. She throws things behind her, disrupting the animals, but she doesn’t flinch even once as they panic.
We follow her through the stables, out into the yard as she stomps around, looking for anything she can use to cobble together a robot body. She never once considered asking me to do the work for her, though she’s also aware that I don’t have the technical skills to build a robot body as she does.
A vicious tug pulls me back as we stride toward the palace. I shriek against my captor, fighting to break free. Corinth wheels around, ready to defend me.
“She is not an Artificial,” Gand rages, pulling me away from Corinth.
“I know. Let her go, Gand,” the prince commands, trying to keep his voice down. “Now!”
Gand freezes, still holding me against his silicone body covered in lab-created skin. The only thing that gives him away is his lack of pulse.
“Sir, she does not belong here. She is lying to us. She needs to be taken for questioning.” His grip tightens around me.
If I had seen him coming, I could have defended myself, but Artificials can be as much as three times stronger than a human. I wriggle under his grasp. Even Corinth looks slightly worried.
“Put her down, Gand. I’m aware of what is going on.” Corinth lowers his hand, indicating that I should be set down. His other hand moves toward the key around his neck in case he must force the Artificial into submission.
The moment my feet touch the ground, I sprint toward the prince, pushing away from Gand.
“She erased my memory, Prince Corinth,” Gand says to him. “She attacked me in the hallway and tried to undo my programming.”
“No, Gand. You attacked her and she was trying to protect herself—and me. I can’t explain it now, but you’ll understand soon.”
“I will take this to your father,” Gand threatens.
“He already knows, Gand.”
The Artificial takes a dangerous step toward the crowned prince of Delare. Co
rinth doesn’t back down. It amazes me how Artificials think they can challenge humans just because their brains work faster than ours process information.
“Go back to the geese, Gand.” Corinth reaches for the key around his neck again, prepared to force Gand back.
The Artificial turns around slowly, slinking back toward the lake. We watch as he kicks at several of the geese.
“You need to find him a new job,” I comment, pursing my lips.
“Or turn down his anger levels,” Corinth murmurs back.
“Maybe take out his personality all together?” I suggest, earning a smug, close-lipped grin as Corinth fights not to laugh.
“But he has such a charming personality,” he remarks.
“True. The Artificials of Delare are so welcoming.” I toss my hair as I speak, rolling my eyes dramatically.
“Hey, we’re not all bad,” Corinth corrects me.
“I didn’t realize you were an Artificial. I suppose that would explain why you weren’t friendlier to me,” I tease.
“I wasn’t the one concealing my identity, princess,” he reminds me casually. “We should catch up to Arta.”
With the sudden change in conversation, we spin around and hurry back toward the palace, assuming Arta went inside to look for supplies.
It’s quiet inside as we search for Arta, methodically sweeping the rooms until we locate her. The loud crash in the dining hall suggests we’ve found her before we open the doors.
When we enter, it’s not Arta, but rather the king whom we see first.
“Son,” he warns in a harsh tone. “Get back.”
Arta’s arm is wrapped around his neck. She grabs her wrist, using her forearm to apply pressure to the king’s throat. He struggles uncomfortably beneath her grasp. Corinth gasps beside me.
“Arta.” I try to reason with her, though I’m not sure why since she’s under my cousin’s control. “Let him go. There’s still a way to make this work.”
“How is that?” she asks, her programming urging her to listen.
“We can still get both parties to sign the proposal. You and I can still take it back to Sylvane,” I reply, taking a small step toward her.
“It’s too late for that—they already know about the plan,” Arta contradicts me.
Magic at Midnight Page 25
