“Unlike you.” He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, as if he was taking everything she said with a grain of salt. How very obnoxious.
“Unlike me,” Jaya agreed, though even divulging that little bit of honest information about herself felt like too much, like giving the lion a waft of blood when you’re trapped alone in a cage with him. “Anyway, she befriended this group of boys near where we lived. They were her age, and they ran a motorcycle repair shop. Isha’s pretty mechanically inclined, a skill Appa really wishes she’d keep more under her hat. She was constantly messing around with Appa’s cars in the palace garage, bribing the mechanics with cigarettes and snacks so they wouldn’t say anything to him. Tinkering with cars isn’t very becoming of a female royal, you know—greasy hands and ball gowns don’t mix.” She paused, waiting for a flicker of recognition. She’d read somewhere that your eyebrows don’t lie; when faced with someone or something you recognize, they rise very slightly. Grey’s eyebrows looked like he’d had a shot of Botox recently: immobile. Was he just that good a liar? She supposed that wasn’t completely surprising; deception ran in the Emerson bloodline, after all.
“Anyway,” she continued, “the boys told Isha one day that they were having trouble keeping their doors open. Their father had taken ill, and with one man down, they just weren’t able to fulfill customers’ needs like they used to. People were beginning to take their bikes to the rival shop. The boys were worried they wouldn’t be able to support their family anymore, or get their father the medical attention he needed.”
“Ah,” Grey said, and Jaya thought she saw a ghost of a smile at his lips. “Isha to the rescue?”
Jaya began to bristle but then noticed that, strangely, there was no sarcasm or smugness in his voice. If anything, he looked vaguely impressed. Frowning slightly, she said, “I suppose you might say that. She began cutting classes so she could assist at their shop during the day. She’s very good; she just made sure to stay in the back where customers wouldn’t see her. Even if no one recognized her as a Rao, people would definitely remark on a female mechanic. The boys were sworn to secrecy, and they had a reason to keep the secret. She managed to keep it going for several weeks by forging a letter from our mother to her teachers, saying she was ill but would be back soon.”
“So what happened?”
Hmm. Jaya studied his face. Still no trace of that sadism she kept waiting for. If Grey Emerson was putting on a show, he was an actor on par with Meryl Streep. What was he doing? Why did he need to hear all of this in her words? Feeling a bit like she was playing a game of chess in the dark, Jaya went on, her eyes tracking his every facial twitch. “Isha got careless. A newspaper reporter, ah, just happened to be passing by the shop one day and saw her, covered in motor oil, drinking, and kissing one of the mechanic boys. He snapped some pictures and the story ran the next day. That was it. Just a teenager acting like a teenager and now our entire family has to pay.” She let her gaze bore into his as she said it, hoping, even if he didn’t show it, that he’d feel the wicked blade of guilt stabbing into his heart.
“That was it?” Grey asked. “She drank and kissed a boy and that was enough for people to condemn all the Raos?”
“Perhaps you forget how conservative the Indian working class can be.”
Grey inclined his head, allowing that. “And the British upper class,” he muttered. “Continue, please.”
Jaya let out a shaky breath, remembering the horror of it all. “The public outcry was… I couldn’t believe it. People were accusing our parents of raising wayward daughters, questioning whether we were meant to lead because we obviously lacked the moral fiber required of a royal family. Anytime we went into town, shopkeepers would make cruel remarks under their breaths. People pointed and whispered and yelled rude things. It didn’t matter that we had bodyguards with us and they protected us from anything more serious. They just kept doing it anyway. It was like they wanted us to know how much we’d let them down, how unworthy we were.”
Grey moved a half step closer, and in doing so, blocked the wind. As if he were her protector. Ironic, considering what he’d done. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
Jaya studied him, eyes narrowed. What was he apologizing for, exactly? “It was awful,” she continued, holding his gaze. “I’ve never seen our father so… beaten. He couldn’t even look at Isha. My mother was crying all the time. And Isha…” She shook her head and paused for a moment. “The light went out of her eyes. I was afraid, really afraid, for her. She completely retreated into herself. It was like she couldn’t believe the world could be so cruel, that people could be so savage. It called into question everything her eternally optimistic, idealistic heart believed in. I was afraid she’d never come back to me. I was afraid our family would fracture right down the center.” Jaya stopped short, remembering who she was talking to. She straightened her shoulders. “Anyway, when our father suggested that we leave to go abroad before any of the serious papers picked up the story, I agreed straightaway.”
Grey’s face cleared a bit. “That’s why she looked so uncomfortable.”
“Right. Exactly.”
“But why here? Why did you choose St. R’s?” Grey asked.
Was he afraid that Jaya had another agenda? A brisk breeze tugged at her hair, and she tucked it behind her ears before continuing as earnestly as she could. He had to believe the story she was telling if she was to get any closer to him. “You’ve probably heard how superstitious Indian royal families can be. Well, my father consulted with our palace astrologer, and he suggested we go to a boarding school surrounded by mountains and hidden by aspen trees.” Jaya waved a hand at herself. “Thus, here we are.”
Grey studied her for a second. “A royal astrologer, in effect, chose where you went to school?”
Jaya nodded, feeling a thrum of anger at the disbelieving judgment in his voice. What did he know of the Raos and their traditions? “Perhaps it sounds superstitious to you, but paying attention to the stars is rather important to my family.”
Something passed over Grey’s face, a shadow of a fleeting emotion Jaya couldn’t catch. “ ‘Fear is the main source of superstition, and one of the main sources of cruelty.’ ”
Jaya felt her hackles go up. Was he calling her family fearful and cruel? After all the Emersons had done? Did he know nothing of his own checkered history? How dare he! The pompous, arrogant… She forced herself to take a surreptitious deep breath.
He glanced at her. “That’s a quote by Bertrand Russell. I’ve always remembered it.”
Bertrand Russell. A British philosopher. Maybe he should read outside his own narrow lane. “Oh,” Jaya said, smiling, even though inside, every nerve ending sparked with anger. She needed to be careful, she reminded herself. Very, very careful. She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it briefly before letting go. Grey, she noticed, stood numbly and didn’t reciprocate, like he wasn’t used to human contact. Jaya chose to ignore his odd reaction. “Grey… may I ask one favor?”
He nodded once without speaking.
She stepped a little closer to him; he didn’t step back. “Please don’t share this with anyone. Let us leave it behind.” Glancing down at her feet, she continued. “It’s just… there’s so much vitriol out there about us, about her. We really need a break from it all.” She batted her eyes at him, made her lips just a touch poutier, as if she were in danger of crying at any moment.
Just as she knew he would, Grey’s gaze slipped to her lips, then back up to her eyes. He nodded. Jaya held back a triumphant smile. She would be great at PR, but just like espionage, that wasn’t an occupation that was royal-approved.
Grey cleared his throat. “Sure. I promise.”
When Jaya spoke, she spoke honestly. “Thank you. This is so important to me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Isha. Absolutely nothing.”
CHAPTER 7
Jaya
Four days into the school year, everyone seemed like they were getting into the
routine of being on strict schedules again. Even Alaric’s unfailing arrogance had calmed down a bit, though he still liked to remind all the teachers, the other students, and himself that he was “heir to a multibillion-dollar company that deals in ideas so that the common man doesn’t have to think.” Jaya had asked Daphne Elizabeth what that meant. Apparently, Alaric’s parents had made their fortune commercializing thirty-six previously under-utilized parts of deceased cows.
Jaya was on her way to the dorms—she and Daphne Elizabeth had made plans to study together—when Isha ran up to her on the steps outside the building. “Hi!” Jaya began, but Isha’s face was reminiscent of an oncoming thunderstorm.
“You can’t avoid the topic anymore,” Isha said, hugging a book to her chest.
“What topic?” Jaya asked, feigning innocence.
Isha cocked her head, and for once her cherubic face was completely serious. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for days about Grey Emerson, and you just keep telling me you’ve got a headache or you’re in a hurry to go somewhere or that we’ll talk about it later. Well, it’s later.”
Jaya sighed. “You already knew he went here. Leo told us that first day—”
“Yeah, but why were you hanging out with him? Why are you talking to an Emerson after all the crap you had to say about their family?”
Isha’s clear brown eyes pierced hers, and Jaya knew she was on quicksand here. She had to think fast or she’d sink in a pit of her own lies. “Because I… I don’t think it’s right to judge people based on what their family’s done. You know that.” Ugh, that was really weak. Perhaps she wouldn’t make a great spy after all.
Isha stared at her, her mouth slightly open. “Are you joking?” she said finally. “That’s literally your personal slogan. ‘You are your family and your family is you.’ Isn’t that what you always say?”
Although impressed that Isha had actually been paying attention all those times Jaya lectured her, Jaya knew she was in a crisis moment. There was no way she could tell Isha the truth—that she wanted to make Grey Emerson fall in love with her so she could break his heart. Isha would never understand. So, instead, Jaya made something up on the spot. “All right, all right. The truth is… the truth is I’m keeping him close. Trying to find out what he knows, et cetera.”
Isha’s face relaxed, and with it, Jaya’s shoulders. “Oh. That makes sense.” She paused, nibbling on her lower lip. “And? What does he know?”
I don’t know! Jaya wanted to say. It’s maddening. The guy’s either the best actor I’ve ever seen or literally the most clueless human on the planet.
But which was it? If past Emerson behavior was any indication, it would be the former, no question.
Jaya did her best to smile in a reassuring big-sister way. “Don’t worry, Isha. I’ve got it all under control.”
* * *
Later that week, Jaya sat in Daphne Elizabeth’s giant papasan chair, working on her Latin vocabulary, while Daphne Elizabeth sprawled out on her bed, a mad mess of notebooks and pencils and textbooks and papers all around her. They’d been studying for about thirty minutes when Daphne Elizabeth sat up and looked at Jaya, a pencil tucked behind her ear. “I’m bored,” she said, reaching into her bag to get out a stick of gum. After offering it to Jaya, who shook her head, she popped it into her mouth.
“Hmm,” Jaya said. “I suppose we could take a quick break.” She got up and stretched, then sauntered over to Daphne Elizabeth’s desk. There was a picture of her and Alaric in a group of people taped to the wall, and under it, a stack of books and picture frames filled with photographs of Leo, Rahul, her parents, and even a horse. “That’s a beautiful horse,” Jaya said.
“That’s Polly,” Daphne Elizabeth said, smiling fondly. “She’s a Clydesdale. The high point of my year is when I get to go home and ride her.”
“I can see why,” Jaya said as her eyes lit on a medal. It was small and silver, with an embossed bow and arrow on the front. “Archery?” she said in surprise.
“Oh, that. Bayer told me to take part in some competition last year. I got second place.”
“I love archery. I won a trophy for it once, at a boarding school in Britain,” Jaya said, feeling a pang for a hobby now gone. “I’ve considered doing it in college, too.”
“Cool,” Daphne Elizabeth said, lying back and staring at the ceiling, her red hair bright against her white sheets.
Jaya studied her; she clearly had something on her mind. “Everything okay?”
“Sure,” Daphne Elizabeth said. “Rahul’s advice is still working. Alaric and Caterina aren’t sitting together anymore in English, so they can’t really talk in the one class I share with both of them.”
“Ah,” Jaya said, sitting back down in the papasan and picking up her book. “But?”
Daphne Elizabeth nibbled on her lower lip and turned over to face Jaya. “I just never thought I’d be that girl. The other woman.” She said it mockingly, but Jaya could see pain in the lines that bracketed her mouth. “It’s so freaking cliché.”
“Why don’t you change it?” Jaya asked. “If you really feel like your life’s a cliché and Alaric isn’t worth it, I mean.”
Daphne Elizabeth laughed a little, her chin propped in her hand. “You make it sound so easy.”
“That wasn’t my intention.” Jaya paused, thinking about Grey Emerson and how she was letting her instincts—spitting sparks, roaring with anger—lead her where she needed to go. “I suppose I just mean people’s instincts rarely lead them astray.”
“I can’t tell if it’s my instinct or my hormones that led me down this path,” Daphne Elizabeth said morosely.
Jaya paused and then turned a page in her book. “I see.”
“What do you mean?”
“Hmm?” Jaya continued to read.
“Jaya.” Daphne Elizabeth waited until Jaya met her eye reluctantly. “What did you mean by ‘I see’?”
Sighing, Jaya crossed her arms on her book. “Well, I… I don’t understand why you feel the need to be with Alaric, that’s all.”
She thought again about Alaric in the library, that first day she’d met Grey without knowing it. How Alaric’s face had been a twisted sneer of entitlement and elitism when he’d bullied Elliot before Grey stepped in. She considered telling Daphne Elizabeth what she’d seen, but she didn’t know her very well, and Jaya was afraid she’d shut down completely. She already looked on her way there, with her arms crossed, leaning away from Jaya.
“You have so much to offer, Daphne Elizabeth,” she continued. “You’re funny, you’re beautiful, you’re kind…” She didn’t add, When it comes to Alaric, though, you seem to forget all that, but the unspoken thought hung in the air between them. Jaya waited, worried she’d overstepped her bounds.
Daphne Elizabeth didn’t speak for a long moment, her face a mask of defensiveness. But when she looked up at Jaya, perhaps seeing the lack of judgment in Jaya’s expression, the fight went out of her eyes. Running a fingernail along a crease in her bedsheet, she sighed. “I don’t know. I guess… I feel like Alaric was the first person to really see me. I mean, sure, I’ve dated other guys before, guys who got off on the fact that they were dating the McKinley heiress. But it never felt like this. For some reason, when I’m with Alaric, he doesn’t seem like he’s looking through me. He tells me all the time that when he saw me, it was like a gong went off in his head and he just knew.” She uncrossed her arms and played with a pencil on the table.
“Knew what?” Jaya asked, expecting Daphne Elizabeth to say, He loved me.
Instead, she said, “That he had to have me.”
Jaya paused. “He… he had to ‘have’ you?”
Daphne Elizabeth waved a hand. “That sounds bad, but the way he said it, it really felt like he meant it. You know? Like, that he just had to have me in his life. He pays so much attention to me, Jaya. I’m not invisible when I’m with him.”
Jaya leaned forward and put a hand on Daphne Elizabeth’s an
kle. “You’re not invisible at all, Daphne Elizabeth.”
The girl smiled a little. She tried to make it look brave and nonchalant, but it just looked sad. “Maybe not to you, but try telling that to my parents. Sometimes I swear I’m half human, half a pane of glass.” She rallied. “But it’s okay. I know they’re super busy, super important people and all that. They’ve been telling me that my whole life.” She shrugged. “But on occasion, it’s just nice to be seen, you know?”
Jaya forced a smile. “Mm.” She turned back to her book.
“And what about you?” Daphne Elizabeth, who clearly had no intention of either studying or letting Jaya study, asked. “Anyone you’ve got your eye on?”
“Well…” Jaya looked up from her book. “There is someone… but I’m taking my time with him.” Taking my time burrowing into his life, she thought, but didn’t say. Like a little rabbit. A little, vengeful, heartbreaking rabbit.
“Well, he’s a goner, whoever he is,” Daphne Elizabeth said, laughing. “You’re what they call a hot-tee with a capital ‘tee.’ ”
Jaya sometimes failed to understand about a third of what Daphne Elizabeth said, but she got the gist of this. Twirling her pen thoughtfully, she said, “That’s what I’m hoping.”
* * *
A few days later, Jaya stood on the outdoor archery range with Grey, her hair blowing slightly in the light breeze. Using the hair elastic around her wrist, she tied it back in a sporty ponytail and turned to him, shrugging. “This is so hard.” She giggled, even though just saying the words was anathema to her very soul. “I just cannot remember what Ms. Bayer said, and I don’t want her shooting me with an arrow.”
“Hmm,” Grey said. His target was about seventy-five yards south of them. “Let me see you do it.”
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