by Leigh Walker
He’s a murderer, Gwyn! A monster! And you’re freaking out because he’s with another girl?
Dallas was a monster, a killer. Now I’d seen it myself. Still, white-hot jealousy thrummed through me, making no sense whatsoever, but spiking my blood pressure nonetheless.
The days’ events piled up on me, making it difficult to think. My head throbbed.
I wanted justice. I wanted to grab Dallas by the collar and shake him, to cry for what he’d done today, what he’d done to my people and to my heart. Screw the cameras. Screw the contest.
I grabbed the door handle, preparing to hurl myself outside when I heard footsteps. Crap. But I cleared my throat and stood up tall. I’d done nothing wrong.
Yet.
“What are you doing down here?” Tariq asked as he came around the corner. He looked me up and down.
“N-nothing. I went for a walk to stretch my legs.”
He peered past me to the window and the prince beyond. “Ah. You’re snooping.”
I raised my chin. “I am not. I happened to glimpse the camera crew, and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”
“All the fuss, as you call it, is the Pageant. The competition will continue on schedule. The rebels will not be allowed to disrupt what we’re doing here. They have tried, and they have failed.”
“Wait a minute. They attacked today because of the contest? Is that what you’re saying?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I am saying that they want their message to get out.”
“What message?”
Tariq’s gaze held mine. “That they’re still out there.”
I shook my head. “But they’re not out there anymore, except in a pile of ashes.”
“There are more of them. They are ruthless. They will use any means necessary to defeat the royal family, including trying to attack the innocent people who live and work at the palace.”
“You’re saying the rebels are the bad guys?” My jaw dropped. “Did you see what happened today? They were massacred!”
Tariq leaned forward, eyes glittering. “I would advise you not to speak about it. Not to the prince, not to the other contestants, not to the staff.”
“But everybody already knows—” I spluttered.
“It doesn’t matter what they know, or what they think they know. The truth is that the rebels have brought this on themselves. The royals have done everything in their power to make their succession seamless, to bring peace to the settlements. This contest is the latest iteration of that desire. But the rebels want to upend the peace. They want war for war’s sake. If you want to blame someone for the bloodbath that happened today, blame the rebels. They’ve never given the new government a chance.”
“Maybe that’s because the new government is a bunch of vampires that can mass-murder us in an instant!” I stepped forward. “They can’t be killed, Tariq. I saw it for myself today! And they can talk inside our heads and manipulate us! Maybe the rebels don’t want to be mind-controlled and feasted on by our new government! Did you ever bloody well think of that?”
“Gwyneth.”
I turned to find the prince standing inside the door, his face pale, his hands clenched at his sides.
I scowled at him, even as my face burned. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your date.” I spit the words out.
Dallas winced. “We have a production schedule. No matter what else is happening, I have a duty to the young women who’ve sacrificed to come here.”
I suddenly found myself fighting back tears. “What about all the men who sacrificed themselves today?”
His burning gaze met mine. “I did that to protect you. To protect everyone at the palace.”
“You did it because you’re a—”
“Your Highness, what’s taking so long?” Tamara flounced in, her chest heaving, her gauzy teal dress flying out behind her.
She scowled when she saw me. “Don’t you have somewhere to be? Like, not on my date?”
“Absolutely.” I turned on my heel, fuming, and marched away.
“See her to her room, Tariq,” Dallas instructed coldly. “And tell her guards they better start doing their jobs or they’re going to find their heads on spikes.”
“Absolutely, Your Highness.” Tariq caught up with me quickly but waited until we’d left the others out of earshot before he spoke. “You’d best learn to keep your mouth shut, or you’re going to be sent home next.”
“Good. Please, send me home so I don’t have to be surrounded by monsters and hypocrites!”
Tariq stopped on the landing, looking around to make sure no one could hear us. “You are a child. An ignorant, headstrong child. You don’t see the big picture, and you don’t understand. The show must go on, Gwyneth. We’re doing this competition for a reason, a good one. If you keep fighting the prince like this, you’re going to find yourself part of the problem, not the solution.” His eyes sparkled. “And then you’ll be in great company, with more hypocrites and monsters than you could ever imagine.”
Chapter 23
Out Of Mind And Out Of Sight
Tariq gave a brief statement the next morning at breakfast. “As you know, the palace was attacked yesterday. It was a fierce battle, but the royal guard prevailed. We are safe and secure once again.”
There was a collective sigh of relief in the room, and I wanted to smack the other girls. Human men—our men—died out there yesterday!
Tariq continued. “We will be taking extra security precautions. It is crucial that you adhere to your curfew.” He shot me a look, which I pretended to not notice.
“One more thing. The rebels want to hurt us, all of us. It’s of the utmost importance for settlement security purposes that we do not speak of this attack—not to each other, not to our families, not on camera. We cannot add any fuel to the fire. Rest assured that the royal family is taking every step necessary to protect the settlements and stop the rebel forces from hurting more innocent people.” He bowed. “I’ll see you after breakfast.”
I groaned then sat back against my chair. “What do you make of that?” I asked Shaye.
She shook her head, and I noticed there were dark circles under her eyes. “I don’t know. But honestly? I don’t want to think about what happened yesterday anymore. We’re safe, the palace has a plan, and as we’re here, on their turf, I think it’s best to follow it. Don’t you?”
“Absolutely,” Tamara said, nodding animatedly. “The prince said he’s doing everything in his power to protect us.”
I snorted. “Did you see him yesterday? Out on the grounds?”
“I saw him last night, on our one-on-one date. It went even better than I’d hoped,” Tamara gushed, ignoring my point and completely changing the conversation so it centered on her favorite topic—herself.
A dreamy look crossed her face. “The prince held the door open for me, he pulled out my chair, he kept his hand on me through the entire televised portion of our date. He’s definitely into me. I can tell.”
She licked her yogurt spoon, and I wanted to slap her.
Tamara’s blue eyes flicked to me, the dreaminess displaced by distaste. “Not even your little sabotage could ruin my evening.”
Shaye looked confused. “What do you mean?”
Tamara glared. “Gwyneth was so jealous that she interrupted my date last night. I heard her yelling at the prince. Tariq had to drag her away.”
I almost launched myself across the table. “That’s a lie.”
Tamara leaned forward. “The prince said you’re a nuisance and that he only had the first date with you so that he could get it over with. He’ll be sending you home shortly.”
I sat back, stung, as if she’d slapped me. “Fine with me. Especially after what happened yesterday, with the attack.”
“We’re aren’t supposed to talk about that. So let it go.” Shaye kept her voice low, but it was charged with urgency. She turned to the other girl. “And Tamara, you should apologize
to Gwyn.”
Tamara shrugged, looking pleased at my discomfort. “I’m not the one who said it, so don’t shoot the messenger.” She finished her yogurt, gloating.
I said nothing for the rest of the morning. I refused to give Tamara the satisfaction. If I was going home, so be it.
After another terrible session of wearing heels and tottering around cones, Mira Kinney came to the rescue. She took us to the formal salon to show us the final, polished version of the first episode.
Mira looked as pulled together as ever, as if nothing had happened yesterday. I felt like I was going crazy. Only hours ago, there were hundreds of dead men in the garden. Yet today, we were practicing walking in high heels and watching a video about a dating contest?
Mira beamed at us. “This episode will air tonight. I think you’ll all be pleased with it.”
I pictured Winnie and Remy, curled up under their blankets, watching the show tonight, beside themselves with excitement. They didn’t know what was really happening. No one did. As the lights dimmed and the large flat-screen flickered to life, I tried to forget about the dead rebels for a few moments.
The royal crest was the first image, accompanied by the settlements’ anthem. Then came the royals and a brief, propagandized version of how they’d come to power in the settlements.
The prince had his own segment, during which he declared himself ready for love, commitment, and marriage. Several of the girls sighed.
Next, each one of the contestants was shown. Our names and settlement numbers were broadcast across the screen. I winced when they showed Eve. Her jaunty smile lit up the screen as her strawberry-blond curls brushed her chin.
My picture was taken from my date with the prince. I barely recognized myself in the red gown, my hair tumbling past my shoulders, the large diamond necklace at my throat.
“What is that necklace?” Tamara demanded, but Shaye shushed her, thank goodness.
Mira Kinney narrated the program. “The Pageant was designed by the royal family to bring peace, joy, and excitement to the land. The prince is honored to be able to choose his wife from the young women representing the settlements. He looks forward to joining forces and hearts with one of these special young women. At the close of the competition, he will propose to one lucky winner. When they marry, she will become a princess. One day, one of these young women will ascend the throne and become the queen. She will rule the people of the settlements—her people—with the prince at her side. Together, they will bring harmony and prosperity to generations to come.”
The next image was of the staff welcoming all of us to the palace. There was nothing about Eve, of course, but the video included the king and queen descending the stairs that first night. The queen’s cerulean blue dress glimmered on the screen, and I shut my eyes briefly, even though I knew I couldn’t ever forget that dress or that terrible night.
The next montage showed the contestants positively gaping at the rooms, the grounds, the food. They showed Shaye eating a chocolate tart and sighing in pure bliss, which made us all laugh.
Tariq was included, as were scenes of us beginning our training. They showed the prince walking around the reflecting pools with several different girls, including Tamara.
She clapped her hands together when she saw herself, the insipid cow.
“The young ladies have trained in etiquette, academics, and social expectations,” Mira narrated. Images of the first girls sent home were shown, including Eve. “After the first fifteen contestants were cut, the contest moved to its next round—one-on-one dates with the prince.”
The image cut to Dallas and me, outside the winter garden on the night of our date. We were holding hands, and I had a stupid, eager smile plastered on my face.
On the show, Mira introduced us and asked us a few questions, but I couldn’t even listen. My ears were ringing as I watched myself gripping Dallas as if he were the last life preserver on Earth.
And then he spoke. “Gwyn’s shown me that she’s kind, smart, and supportive. She was a natural choice for my first real date.”
I glanced at Tamara, remembering what she’d declared at breakfast. She watched the screen, a deep scowl on her face.
Had Dallas simply been putting on a show for me and the cameras?
I was glad for the darkness because a hot blush crept up my cheeks as I grinned like a madwoman on the screen. Dallas said something to Mira, and I watched him. The last part of the scene was us walking into the winter garden together, hand in hand.
I was looking toward the entrance, but Dallas stared at me. In that moment, a look of longing passed across his face.
My heart wrenched.
“Stay tuned for next week’s broadcast!” Mira’s voiceover said. “More one-on-one dates, more excitement, more romance, and more eliminations. Four weeks to go until the winner is named!”
The screen went dark.
“What did you think, ladies?” Mira asked. “I’m thrilled with the way the episode turned out. I think it has just the right amount of intrigue to really hook the viewers! Now, take a few minutes before you report back to Tariq’s boot camp. I look forward to interviewing tonight’s lucky one-on-one date!”
Everyone started talking at once. Tamara chatted to a nearby group of girls, telling them all about her date with the prince and opining that next week’s episode would be the best hour of television ever!
“We’ll only be here for four more weeks?” Shaye asked, in a low voice. “I didn’t know that. Did you?”
“No. But you heard Tamara. I might be going home sooner than that. Please send me some scones,” I moaned.
“Nonsense.” Shaye moved closer so no one else could hear us. “Did you see the way the prince looked at you in that video? It seems like he…cares for you.”
I grimaced. “I don’t think so. If you’d seen him with his hands all over Tamara last night, you’d probably feel the same.”
Shaye tilted her chin. “Don’t let her get to you. It’s a contest, remember? She’s trying to psych you out.”
“She’s doing a good job. Who thinks like that?” She’s a…a…” I strung several curses together under my breath, including cow, prat, and squat-loving douche-nozzle.
Mira Kinney’s harried assistant came over, making a beeline for Shaye. “Miss Iman, I’ve just gotten word. You have the date with the prince tonight. We’ve sent instructions to your maids that they need to have a special gown for you to wear.”
“Thank you, Rose.” Shaye was calm and collected, at least in front of me.
Rose smiled. “I’m rooting for you. Pick out something fantastic to wear!”
“Rose, stop chattering and get over here!” Mira snapped from across the room.
Rose hustled off again, practically sprinting across the room, pushing her glasses up on her nose as she went.
Tamara was on us in an instant, all fake smiles for Shaye. “You’ve got the date tonight?” She wrapped her arms around Shaye and squeezed. “You’re going to have so much fun! We had steak. Maybe you’ll get to have lobster or something fabulous like that!”
Shaye smiled at her patiently. “I promise to tell you all about the food.”
“Ooh, and you must tell me if he touches you.” Tamara looked at me pointedly. “If he doesn’t, it probably means he doesn’t like you.”
I stood up. “Where are you going?” Shaye asked.
“I’m excusing myself from Tariq’s stupid obstacle course. I’ll see you later.” I had no right to storm off. In fact, leaving lessons was clearly against the rules.
But as I heard Tamara say something behind my back then giggle, I could give all the flying you-know-whats about the rules.
I needed space.
Chapter 24
You Stop I Start
With my head held high, I walked through the foyer and down the hallway to Eve’s chambers. If I didn’t look guilty, maybe the guards would leave me alone.
The sentinels guarding her door watched me w
arily as I approached. “No one is allowed inside without the express permission of the prince, my lady.”
I arched an eyebrow at him, hoping it somehow lent me the air of authority. “I’ve been here with the prince before, as you remember. That’s tacit evidence of his permission.”
The guard winced. “I’m sorry, miss, but he has a list of approved visitors. Your name’s not on that list.”
I leaned forward, the rage and frustration of the day bubbling over. “I’ve been in here before. Eve is my friend. After everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours, I’d like to check on her.”
The guards looked at each other but didn’t budge.
“Well, this is bloody perfect!” On the verge of a temper tantrum, I almost stomped my foot. “The one friend I have at the palace, and I can’t even see her!”
“You don’t have to shout, you know.” Dallas came up beside me and frowned. “And please don’t harass the guards. They’re just doing their job.”
“I know that,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m just frustrated.”
Dallas gave me a look of mock surprise. “You don’t say.”
I turned on my heel to stalk off, but he opened the door. “Stop sulking, Gwyn, and come see Eve. She’s been asking for you.”
I tried to maintain some semblance of dignity, holding my head high as I turned back.
“If it’s acceptable to you, I’ll chaperone.”
“It’s not.”
He stepped in front of the door. “Then you can’t go in.”
“Oh, fine.”
He stepped to the side, and I passed through, holding my breath so I couldn’t smell him. Eve stood beneath the chandelier, laughing at me. “Lovers’ quarrel?” she asked.
I wanted to hug her, but I wasn’t sure if it was safe, and I didn’t want to put her in a bad position.
I sighed. “I’m not in the mood to be ridiculed.” I went past her and sat on her bed, while Dallas crossed his arms over his chest and lounged against the door, watching us.
