The ballroom was always impressive; its domed roof and ornate stone pillars brought to mind Victorian-era balls and parties. But tonight it was absolutely captivating. Projectors hidden behind trees and boulders had transformed the plain roof into a shimmering dome made entirely of stars. The pillars held thick strands of ivy and twinkle lights, and dozens of large glass lanterns filled with flickering pillar candles and fake snow lit the path up the stairs and to the heavy wooden double doors.
“Wow,” Jaya whispered, one hand against the window, impressed in spite of her mood.
“Wait till you see inside,” Daph said. “St. R’s always goes all out for this. Come on.”
She was right. Inside the doors, Jaya stood looking around. “I’ve seen lavish parties before, but never at a school. Never like this.”
Hundreds—maybe even thousands—of strands of blue, white, and silver crystals hung from the ceilings, stopping just above their heads, catching the light and winking at Jaya as they twirled lazily. Gigantic pots holding trees that had been painted white, their trunks and branches glittering with lights, dotted the corners, while mini versions of them anchored the tables. Dozens upon dozens of oversize shining lanterns, similar to the ones outside, bordered off the enormous dance floor, which was made of polished white stone and looked like a huge piece of ice. White chandeliers of various sizes hung from the ceilings in the midst of the strands of crystals. The entire room glowed and sparkled and appeared to be made of water or vapor or dreams rather than anything solid. Other students began surging in, hand in hand, their faces shining as they went to claim tables and to dance. Isha and Elliot walked close together, their heads bent, talking. Alaric was leading a girl in a red dress out to the dance floor, his hair higher and stiffer than ever. “Ha,” Daph said, crossing her arms. “Her hair’s even taller than his. Wonder if they coordinated.”
Jaya had to laugh. “Yes, maybe. I wouldn’t put it past Alaric to have that as a stipulation for his dates.”
A tall black senior boy—Jaya thought his name might be Jake—came up to Daph to ask her to dance. After a pause, she smiled and took his hand. “I’d love to.” Looking back over her shoulder at Jaya, she let herself be led out onto the floor.
Jaya felt a twinge of genuine happiness for Daph, mixed with just a hint of wistfulness. Perhaps this was the beginning of Daph’s clean break. Caterina deserved one too. Speaking of which… Jaya looked past Alaric and the girl in the red dress. They were dancing rather close together, their bodies moving in synchrony like they’d done this a thousand times before, the girl’s crimson ball-gown skirt swirling around them like blood.
And by herself, just off the dance floor, stood Caterina. The flickering flames from the lanterns cast long shadows around her and across her face; her expression was hard but otherwise inscrutable. In her high-necked ball gown, she looked like an evil queen, plotting the princess’s demise. Her date was nowhere to be seen.
According to Rahul, there was a 19.68 percent chance that, if Jaya were to approach Caterina, Caterina would launch herself at Jaya as she’d done to Alaric on the yacht. Apparently, he’d tabulated all the times Caterina had “lost her temper” over the years, along with some kind of estimation algorithm that her “mean intervals between outbursts” would be sufficiently high enough to evoke a physical reaction. That number kept playing in Jaya’s head as she crossed to where Caterina stood, alone outside of the lanterns bordering the edges of the dance floor.
Why, then, was Jaya doing this now? Wouldn’t it be safer, more drama-free, to just leave things alone? Caterina had done nothing recently but threaten Jaya. This didn’t concern her. Besides, Caterina wasn’t doing anything besides staring at Alaric. And who could blame her? She and Alaric had gone out for almost three years. Surely she was entitled to some stewing.
But it was the look on her face, the utter mask of coldness, so carefully constructed, when Jaya could see in her brown eyes a very deep despair, an overpowering loneliness.
“Hi,” Jaya said, trying on an easy smile in spite of the fact that she was in a very un-smiley place currently. “You look fantastic. Valentino, right?” She gestured at Caterina’s green dress.
Caterina was frozen crystal. Her eyes barely flickered in her direction. “What do you want?”
Jaya turned and watched Alaric and the girl in the red dress too. Here, behind the circle of light the lanterns threw on the dance floor, it was possible to believe you were in another colder, darker dimension, looking in on happiness. “It’s ridiculous how happy they look, isn’t it? It won’t last. Alaric isn’t capable of appreciating anyone the way they deserve to be appreciated.”
“No, he isn’t,” Caterina said.
Jaya glanced sidelong at her. “It would be easy, you know, if this had happened to me, to let it consume me. To reject all the good things about myself—how charming I am or how socially gifted or generous. To really let the hatred take me over. If it were me, I mean.”
“It isn’t you. You don’t know anything about how this feels. You don’t know anything about me, Jaya.” Caterina looked at her, her brown eyes sparking in the dark. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
Grey
Grey had barely walked into the ballroom and scoped out the place, looking for Jaya to ask her if they could speak soon, when his cell phone began to buzz. Frowning, he pulled it out from an interior pocket of his tux.
It was a number he didn’t recognize—an international number. It wasn’t from the UK, but he was seized with a sudden fear that it had something to do with his father, that something terrible had happened.
Striding quickly to the double doors that led outside, Grey pressed the “answer” button. “Hello?” He pushed the doors open and slipped out, walking down the steps lined with lanterns to a cluster of blue spruces off to the right. The chilly night air wrapped its hands around him.
“Is this Grey? Grey Emerson?” a slightly grating male voice asked in an Indian accent.
“Yes, it is.” Grey frowned, looking past the spruces into the darkness beyond. In the distance, he could see the main building that held the dorms. The first-floor windows were all lit; the front office was still staffed, even tonight. St. R’s took their 24/7 policy very seriously. “Who am I speaking to?”
“This is Rajkumar Kiran Hegde of Karnataka, India.”
CHAPTER 17
Jaya
“Back home, we had a young mango tree,” Jaya said to Caterina after a pause. “It was absolutely gorgeous, with soft green leaves and the most beautiful textured bark. But it kept growing too close to this big banyan tree we already had. My father’s gardeners tried everything they knew—they pruned it back, they tied it, they even considered moving it at one point, even though it was well over thirty feet tall and twenty feet wide then. But you know what they did in the end?”
Caterina shook her head, interested in the story in spite of herself, it seemed.
“They left it alone. They figured if the mango tree really wanted to grow so close to the banyan tree, so close that it wasn’t getting any light for itself, they shouldn’t interfere.”
“And what happened?” Caterina folded her long, pale arms across her green silk-clad torso.
“The mango tree died. It didn’t stand a chance. The banyan was unstoppable.”
They looked at each other. Caterina tried to keep her face impassive, but Jaya could see the muscle under her eye twitch. “I guess I’m the mango tree in that scenario. Great work, Aesop.”
“Caterina.” Jaya put a hand on Caterina’s slender arm, but she brushed her off. “I am so sorry I didn’t tell you what was happening between Alaric and Daphne Elizabeth. I felt caught between a rock and a hard place and I completely misstepped. But I’m not going to misstep anymore. I’m here to tell you that you can’t let Alaric do this to you. Don’t let him strip away everything. You’re Caterina LaValle. Last time I checked, that meant something.”
Caterina glared at her, eyes burning, lik
e she was about to launch herself at Jaya and rip her hair from her skull.
Grey
Grey waited for more from the dude, Kiran, but there was nothing else. “Okay.”
He heard laughter—snuffling, derisive, annoying. “I see. So she never told you about me.”
“Who hasn’t told me about you?” he asked, but somewhere deep inside him, a faint alarm was beginning to sound.
“My fiancée, Jaya Rao,” Kiran answered. “I understand you know her?”
Grey walked a few paces deeper into the trees, his shoes sinking in the mulch. “Your fiancée? I think there’s some misunderstanding here.” There had to be. This was ridiculous. “Jaya never mentioned you.”
“And she didn’t tell me about you. I found out through other means,” Kiran said easily.
Grey opened his mouth, to say what he didn’t know, but nothing came out. He put a hand out to balance himself against the cold, rough bark of a towering pine. “I don’t believe you,” he said, his voice sounding distant and strange even to him.
Kiran chuckled again, and the raspy, superior sound made Grey want to crumble his phone with his bare hands. “I thought you’d say that. So I’ve sent you something via email. Why don’t you check it? I’ll wait.”
“How do you have my phone number? My email?”
“We have a mutual friend,” Kiran said, clearly enjoying this.
Jaya
Jaya had just braced herself for a full-body attack—trust Rahul to get it right—when Caterina’s face and shoulders sagged, like she was deflating. “I’m sorry too, Jaya. I’ve been fairly antisocial to you.”
Jaya studied Caterina’s miserable, remorseful face and realized she was telling the truth. “It’s okay. I understand.” Taking her arm, Jaya gently led her away, past the lanterns, into a dark corner. None of the dancers noticed them; it was like they were completely invisible. They sat on an extra table that wasn’t being used.
“You know what’s weird?” Caterina said finally. “Part of me is upset because Alaric dumped me, but the other part is just upset because he took something—some power—away from me by doing that. I was vulnerable, and he hurt me because of it. I don’t want other people to think I’m weak. I wish I didn’t care, but the truth is, I do.”
Jaya put her arm around Caterina. “Of course you care. It’s how we’re raised, isn’t it? We’re expected to keep up appearances no matter what. The pressure’s ludicrously exhausting. It’s really not fair when you think about it. We have more pressure on us by the time we’re six than most adults do their entire lives. And it’s only because of who our parents are. So yes. I understand.” Jaya paused, considering. “You should take up kickboxing at the athletic center, take out all your frustrations with Alaric in a socially acceptable way. It feels good to blow off some steam sometimes—to let your id show, as Ms. Rivard might say.”
Caterina glanced at her, a small smile at the corner of her lips. “Kickboxing does sound fun right about now.”
“So where’s your date, whatever his name is? I don’t think I have any classes with him.”
Caterina sighed. “Connor Davids. He took off with some of his friends. Apparently, I was being ‘boring.’ ”
“Wanker.” A brief thought flitted across Jaya’s mind: Whatever would Amma say?
“No, he was right. I wasn’t much fun tonight. Or the past couple of times we went out. The truth is, I don’t think I’m ready to date yet. I might not be for a very long time.” There was a pause that Jaya didn’t rush to fill. She could sense Caterina had more to say. “I loved Alaric, you know,” she said finally, her voice barely a breath on the air. “It wasn’t perfect, but in my own way? I really fucking loved him.”
“I know,” Jaya said, tightening her arm around Caterina’s shoulders. “I know you did.”
And they sat together in the dark, wearing their pretty dresses like armor.
Grey
“A mutual friend?” Grey frowned. “Who?”
“Alaric Konig.”
“Alaric?” Grey said. “He’s not my—how does he—”
“Why don’t you check your email and then we can speak some more.”
An owl hooted somewhere in the night. Grey took the phone from his ear and, with hands that were slightly shaking, pulled up his email app. There was a new one, unread, right at the top. He tapped it to open.
It was a PDF of a newspaper announcement. Grey read the first line, his heart sinking. Maharaja Adip Rao and Maharani Parvati Rao announce with pleasure the engagement of their eldest daughter, Rajkumari Jaya Rao, to the heir of the Hegde house, Kiran Hegde, son of Maharaja Dilip Hegde and Maharani Aruna Hegde.
Feeling suddenly numb, like he’d plunged into an icy lake, Grey raised the phone back to his ear. “I—I don’t believe this.”
“Oh, but I think you do, deep down where it matters.”
Grey didn’t know what to say. Not a single word came to mind.
“The engagement’s been in the cards for a while. Years,” Kiran said. “I’m not sure if she told you that—”
“No.” His voice was a strangled whisper. “No, she didn’t.”
“Mm. Can’t say that surprises me. You an Emerson and she a Rao? Your families have been feuding for generations. She was probably having a little laugh at you since you met,” Kiran said. “Come on, Grey. Didn’t you think about it? Why is she in every single one of your classes? Didn’t you even consider what immense coincidence conspired to make that happen?”
“Well, I…” He felt colossally stupid. He’d thought it was coincidence or fate or the stars that had aligned just right to bring her to him. He straightened. “Why would she do that? And how could she have—”
“I don’t know the precise whys of it all beyond that your families abhor each other,” Kiran said dismissively, as if he couldn’t bother with the mundane details. “But I’m sure you could find out the how easily enough if you wanted to.”
Grey shook his head, as if to ward off Kiran’s words. He desperately, desperately wanted to believe Kiran was a lying piece of shit. But how could he overlook the engagement announcement? It was dated right after she had broken things off with him. Was Kiran right? Had Grey just been her plaything, a way to amuse herself, while she waited for the bigger, better things in life?
DE had mentioned how Jaya had won a trophy in archery, and Grey had dismissed it because it didn’t fit with the Jaya he knew. She hadn’t corrected him when he’d said what an incredible stroke of luck it was that she’d ended up in virtually all his classes. And now this arrogant jerk—her future fiancé—was saying she’d set it all up. That from the moment Jaya Rao had entered his life, she’d been trying to… to what? What was the endgame behind her manipulations, behind all her lies?
Snow began to fall, and Grey stood, letting the flakes coat his hair, his eyelashes, letting it cover him up, bit by bit, in ice.
“It’s better this way, Grey,” Kiran said, almost sympathetically. “I’m sure there was always a part of you that felt like this wasn’t real. Isn’t it better to know the truth than to be blissfully ignorant in a complete lie?” He sounded so patronizing, a part of Grey wanted to reach through the phone and wrap his hand around his neck. But that was a distant part of him. Most of him felt nothing.
Grey took the phone from his ear and pressed “end,” his fingertips cold and covered in snow. He stood for a long time, staring at nothing.
A few minutes ago he’d been wondering where Jaya was, so he could speak to her. So he could fight for her. A few minutes ago life had been relatively simple. Then he’d answered his phone. And in that instant things had gone from simple to very-not-simple. From all’s-well to what-the-fuck-is-happening.
Grey glanced across the snowy darkness at the main building, lit up bright and warm. Laughter drifted out. He thought about how happy he’d felt holding Jaya’s hand, how he’d felt ridiculously lucky when she turned those big brown eyes on him. He had believed everything she’d said
about how the curse didn’t define him, that it didn’t matter to her. He had believed her when she’d said he deserved more. He’d been so sure he knew her. That she was steadfast and honest and her eyes would never lie to him.
Grey squeezed the phone in his hand, which, he noticed with a grim, remote interest, was shaking. Fury? Shock? Sorrow? All of those and so much more.
He turned to look back at the main building and began to pick his way there, through the cold darkness. It was time he got some answers.
* * *
He pushed in through the doors, bringing the chill winter air with him, and the receptionist, Mrs. Lucas, looked up at him in surprise. She’d been playing solitaire on her computer, a half-eaten microwaveable lasagna pushed to the side. She hurriedly shut down her game and stood. “Lord Northcliffe! Are you all right? How can I help you?”
The alarm in her voice made Grey wonder what he looked like, but only for a moment. Leaning forward on her desk, he said, “I need to know why Jaya Rao is in all my classes.”
She looked at him, confused. “Princess Jaya Rao?”
“Yes.” Grey was trying to keep a lid on his temper, but it felt like a volcano, urgent, seething, simmering. “Please,” he said carefully, biting each word up. “Please look at her records and tell me why she’s registered in my classes. Was it arranged?”
The receptionist put her reading glasses on and sat back down, opening an application on her computer. “Well,” she said, still sounding discombobulated, but apparently deciding it wasn’t worth it to ask questions of Grey in the mood he was in, “if there was any kind of special intention behind it, we’d have recorded it here.…” She clicked around for a few moments, and Grey tried to get his breathing under control. Everything felt like it hinged on what Mrs. Lucas had to say.
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