“The more princess-like you will look, then. Nothing to complain about.” He coughed, breathing heavily. “It’s pointless to explain to you, but don’t do anything to raise alarm. I’ll work everything out.”
He moved to leave, but Memory caught hold of the sleeve of his suit jacket.
“If you die on me from overworking, I’ll kill you.” It was a roundabout way of telling him to take it easy, but when he smirked and left, she knew he’d gotten her message.
So he’s somewhat smart. I guess.
The rest of the day was a repeat of the morning, with zipping around from shop to shop, trying on dress after dress, picking out shoes, finding matching bags and hats and bracelets and necklaces and so much that Memory was ready to jump out a window. She almost did when Diana caught her and shoved her into a dressing room. It was not fun.
That night, her phone buzzed with a text. It was an order from him to open her laptop and get studying.
Studying?
Memory slapped her forehead. Before entering the palace–if the whole paternity test thing worked out–she’d have to have at least some recognition of the blasted people who lived there. History hadn’t been her favorite subject, so when she opened up a web page dedicated to the Eastcote family, she fell asleep within the first two minutes. She woke up with a fright four hours later to the sound of Diana’s loud snores.
To comfort herself, she situated herself next to the window, peering over the large city. Bright lights shone everywhere, little ant-like people hustled and bustled about. It was so unlike Whecombe Pass where everyone took their time to get where they needed to be. She hoped she would one day become one of those people, one person lost in the bustle of everyday life.
The next day was a repeat of the previous, but there was no hospital visit or Prince Cassian to interrupt the horrible day. It was riddled with fear and anxiety. Pacing back and forth and biting her nails was the only thing Memory could do.
Her break came when Prince Cassian was waiting outside the hotel. Diana, Sarah, and Jones diligently waited inside the lobby as the two conversed.
Memory, not used to the cold in Sugrove, pulled her sweater tight as Prince Cassian spoke.
“We’re all good.” He said simply. He wore an angry look, and when he moved to leave, Memory stopped him.
“You okay? Is that all?”
“I lost a lot of sleep over the issue, but yes, the results were swapped. It’s confirmed. You are Princess Jade.”
Memory felt a rock settle at the bottom of her stomach, completely unexpected to what she’d thought she would feel.
“Don’t call me.” He said.
“Hm?”
“My phone.” His eyes flickered towards her briefly. “It was tapped. I will buy another one, but refrain from calling me on this one unless you pretend like you’re Jade.”
Memory rubbed her forehead. “How long has it been tapped? And who did it?”
“I do not know.” No wonder he looked so frustrated. All his planning could’ve been ruined because of this one issue. She recalled the last conversation they had about the paternity test. Whoever had listened in would know everything. And was probably extremely smart–not just anyone could tap a royalty’s phone.
“At least I discovered it on time, but I can’t let the person know I’ve found out.” He walked to his car with Memory following him.
“Maybe, if we’re lucky, he didn’t hear that conversation.” She quipped optimistically, which was strange considering her nature, but it probably out of trying to cheer him up than anything else. He was really ice cold when mad. “Er, will you really help find my…you know…mom?” It was the first time either of them had mentioned since the episode on the sidewalk on her way to work. Prince Cassian seemed genuinely surprised.
“I keep promises to the best of my abilities.” He replied, which Memory took as a yes.
She had no idea whether it was out of impulse or pure insanity, but when she heard Diana come outside, calling her name, she jumped forward and hugged Prince Cassian briefly. His crown tumbled off his head as he hit the side of his car.
“Thanks.” She mumbled, and ran back inside, restraining every urge to turn around and see his shocked expression.
The rest of the week was a repeat of the horrible routine. Memory’s brain turned to sludge, and Diana wasn’t helping at all. She wanted so bad to call Prince Cassian, but it wasn’t a good idea to call him at this point. His warning was enough.
Instead, she busied herself with learning names. Diana told her a lot about Prince Cassian’s family, and even let secrets slip.
“Oh, Prince Edward certainly won’t be happy. You two didn’t get along when you were young…Tsavorite can verify that, most definitely.” Diana coughed, and Memory raised an eyebrow as her hair was being messed with once more.
“Do tell, Diana.”
The head maid fidgeted. “Once, you stole Prince Edward’s crown, and he ran around the entire palace crying before running into Tsavorite during Tourmaline’s engagement party. She’d been holding a glass of wine and it spilled over her silk gown.” She dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. “Such a pretty dress gone to waste.”
Memory sweat dropped. These people…
A loud ring echoed in the salon, and Diana hastily excused herself. Minutes later, she came back with a dark expression on her face.
“Tabloids. Reporters.” She muttered to herself. “Ruining everything.”
Curious, Memory sat up, earning herself a hiss from the stylist. “What happened?”
“Princess.” Diana started with a hint of urgency. “I think we need to go.”
“Huh?”
She was once again grabbed by the arm and yanked away. Diana wouldn’t answer anything until she was in the car, hair sopping wet.
“Pesky reporters. They’re everywhere. His highness and you should really be more careful.” Diana said quickly, tuning to the driver.
“Jones, to the palace.”
Memory’s eyes widened. “WHAT?”
“We’ll get your things from the hotel later, dear.” Diana said with thinned lips. “It’s probably swarming with people right now.”
“Wait–I don’t get it–DIANA!” She shouted, yelping when the car zoomed onto the highway, at least thirty miles above the speed limit.
“Someone caught you and his highness on film a few days ago. Outside the hotel.” Diana said loudly. The windows, still open, let in a loud breeze forcing her to yell. “They think you–that he’s courting you!”
Memory spluttered. “I–but–” Screw this if people think getting a girlfriend is front page news. What is with this world?
“Is it really a big deal?” She asked, screeching when the car turned sharply towards the right.
“It is!” Diana insisted. “Especially if they dig into it and find out you’re the Princess. King Darius does not want anyone to know just yet.”
Memory frowned. It was really stupid, then, to take me to all those stores and salons. If they had a brain, they probably figured it out already.
When the car slowed down substantially, Memory got the courage to look outside. And promptly felt her breath leave her as the palace gates appeared.
Chapter 6
Everything happened so quickly. One moment she’d been at the salon (for the sixth time that week), the next she was being whizzed off to the palace.
The iron gates were intimidating, just like she’d seen on TV so many times. Behind it was the large fountain with the statue of Grantham Eastcote, the one who established the estate, standing proud and tall in the middle. The palace itself was u-shaped, with three separate buildings on each side and in the front.
She didn’t even get a good look at the place when the car swirled around to the back and into a dark garage. When the lights came on, Memory was surprised to see rows and rows of cars of different colors and models.
She really shouldn’t have been. This was the palace.
Jones helpe
d her out, and she knelt to the ground, her lunch making a reappearance. A warm hand rubbed her back soothingly, while Sarah huffed and stalked away.
“I’m okay.” Memory said, shaking, trying to convince herself more than the others. “I’m fine.” Diana still rubbed her back, unconvinced.
Natural light filtered in when the massive garage doors opened, revealing a row of chattering people. The only one she recognized was Prince Cassian, and smiled weakly at him. She felt her stomach lurch again and ducked to the side, heaving a cough.
Jones apologized profusely, thinking it was his driving that caused her to vomit but really it was the fact that she was at the palace. Here. Now.
“No.” She said with a thin voice. “It’s fine. I’m okay.”
“Do you need me to call a doctor, dear?” Diana questioned gently. “I’ll call one–”
Memory shook her head, shaking. She hugged her knees, rocking back and forth with the smell of acid pungent in the air.
“Move!” She heard Prince Cassian bellow. He jogged towards her and kneeled next to her.
“What is it now?” He bit out, and Memory closed her eyes.
“I’m fine. Go away.”
He snorted. “My brother and aunt are up there.” He gestured to the entrance of the garage. “I need you to be at your best.”
Memory turned towards him. “It’s your fault.” She snapped. “Give me a minute, okay? I just need to breathe.”
Scoffing, he slid his arms around her back and under her legs, picking her up with great effort.
“How much do you weigh?” He muttered, and Memory leaned her head against her chest.
“Shut up, please.”
Surprisingly, he listened, motioning for the guards and maids to move as he carried her out of the garage. Memory ear’s picked up the hushed whispers and excited cries of whom she presumed to be Prince Cassian’s relatives and ignored them, already feeling better when his cold arms gripped her tight.
She must’ve slept for at least four hours because when she woke up, the glass doors leading to the balcony told her so.
She backtracked. A balcony?
Her grogginess didn’t help much as she blinked, sweating heavily. Piles of thick, fluffy blankets were wrapped around her tightly, and the light fixture above her swinging back and forth didn’t help to cool her down.
There’s a freaking chandelier above me.
Writhing, twisting, and churning didn’t help. The blankets were wrapped so tightly her arms were pinned to her sides and her toes felt so numb she was pretty sure blood circulation to her feet was cut off.
Her head turned further to the right, and as she’d thought, there was a balcony. Two large glass arching doors led to a balcony so big she couldn’t see the end from her position. The flooring on the balcony was glistening white, marble from the looks of it. Why the family thought using white marble as flooring was a good idea was beyond her.
Her head, still spinning, couldn’t identify much more than that. All she could see were blurred lumps of pink and orange here and there. Some voices buzzed around her, and became clearer the more she strained to hear them.
“Is she okay?” She heard someone say.
“She’s fine.”
“You sound sure.”
“You have no idea. She’s the most stubborn person to grace this planet, brother.” The slight condescending tone to his voice confirmed that it was Prince Cassian talking.
“I fail to see why you have brought her here, Cassian. If you’re going to parade around with women, at least do so quietly. No need in letting everyone know.” There was a long pause. “Don’t tell me you plan to marry her.”
Memory scrunched her nose. Were they talking about her?
A loud sigh echoed in the room. “Cassian, you know this. Why did you do such a thing? Father will never–”
“There was a reason I told you to leave the room, brother.”
“You cannot order me around.”
“At this point, I can. Because as of now, I am the one who found Jade.”
Silence. Complete silence. Whoever had been talking before was shocked into complete and utter silence. And then:
“You are joking.”
“Everything has been done. The tests are positive.”
They were interrupted by Memory’s moaning. Struggling to get free of the blankets, she rolled over. And immediately hit the floor.
Well, at least it’s carpet inside, she thought. The velvet carpet didn’t hurt her at all, especially through all the blankets, but at least now she could wrench free of them. The heat was beginning to meddle with her brain.
Someone rushed to her side, but it wasn’t Prince Cassian. It was someone she could’ve sworn was his carbon copy, except with a softer jaw line, lighter hair and a longer nose. His eyes were just as blue, and even the hairstyle was the same. The crown on his head was gold, gold so bright that it made Memory squint.
“Can I help you?” She said, surprised at how hoarse she sounded. The man stared at her, slowly kneeling to the ground.
Then Prince Cassian entered the view, setting a strong hand on the man’s shoulder.
“Jade.” He said. “I apologize, Prince Edward insisted–”
“No.” Memory croaked. “It’s fine. Could I get some water?”
Prince Edward, the one staring at her, snapped his fingers and a maid appeared out of nowhere. He ordered her to get some water and then turned to his brother.
“Why did you refrain from telling us beforehand?”
“And earn the wrath of father if all the leads I found were wrong?” Prince Cassian kept a straight face, and Memory wondered if the two brothers were always like this. Always talked to each other in plain, dull voices.
“I concede, then.” Prince Edward stood up, and he was barely an inch taller than Prince Cassian. “Although, I must admit, it was such a coincidence that…”
“Good things come to those who actually put in the effort, brother.”
“I see.” The older brother turned to Memory, holding out a hand. Memory hesitantly took and was pulled up. He reached out a hand and patted her on the shoulder with a strained smile.
“Welcome back, Princess Jade.”
Memory worriedly looked at Cassian, who motioned for her to reply, and she laughed nervously.
“Yeah. I missed you.”
Prince Edward’s eyes flickered towards Prince Cassian and her for a minute, and then excused himself, leaving the two alone. The atmosphere seemed to lighten as Prince Cassian smirked.
Ah, the infamous smirk.
“You’re a horrible actor.” He whispered in her ear.
A maid came up to Memory and handed her a cup of water, and she drank it gratefully. “But still amazing, eh, Prince Cassian?”
He chuckled, crossing his arms. “Did you have to vomit?”
“Why? Did I embarrass your family?” She asked smugly. “Can I just say that your brother is…how can I say this nicely…uptight?”
“You got that from one conversation?” He deadpanned.
Memory sniffed. “Even you acted funny.”
“’Funny’? I think you need to lie down. And make sure you’re in the right frame of mind before I call you out to meet the rest of the family. If you’re ever in the right frame of mind, Jade.”
“Haha, very funny.” Memory quieted, hating how her fake name sounded coming from him. Her eyes finally raked around the room, from the two maids standing quietly next to the door to the lounge in front of a flat screen TV in the middle to the large bed she was standing next to.
They would have to be careful. She couldn’t just talk about their issue in broad daylight, and from the way Prince Cassian leveled his gaze, she knew he wanted her to know.
“Can I ask you something?”
He narrowed his eyes, and she tapped her phone. “Er, can I call you whenever, if I need something...?”
His face flickered with recognition. “Ah, yes, I’ll call you first.” W
ith my new phone, he meant. “Be careful. Watch your stuff, and check your phone regularly.”
“What?”
Sighing, the Prince looked up at the ceiling. “Just in case anyone messes with it.”
“Oh.” Right. Someone might tap my phone. But with all the security in the palace, how could… “Oh. Oh!”
Memory nodded, awed at how they could communicate about a private topic. One just needed to read between the lines.
Especially with the maids there. It struck Memory how much a dangerous game it was. Maids were like pawns, doing the bidding of the royal family members. Any one of them could be a spy. Any one of them could be a traitor.
It’s like a James Bond movie.
“I’ll rest. Just don’t wrap me and suffocate me.”
Prince Cassian shook his head, amused. “That was Diana.”
Grumbling, Memory gestured to the rest of the room. It was more like a complete apartment, thrice the size of the one she and Lulu lived in. “Orange. And pink. You just had to.”
“Again, Diana. When I informed her of your return last week and ordered her to pick you up, she couldn’t be restrained.” He paused. “Orange and pink used to be your favorite color when you were younger.”
“She–I mean, I must’ve been a weird child.”
“You have no idea.”
Memory gently let her fingers graze across the velvet chairs in the middle of the room. There were five of them, forming a semicircle around a TV screen. She mentally named it the lounge.
“Lulu would’ve loved to be here.” She murmured to herself. From the lounge branched three mini rooms, divided by curtains. To her left was the closet and bathroom, in front was the giant bed she’d woken up on, and to the right was what looked like a study room. There was a desk and a chair, and shelves upon shelves of books.
She didn’t know what she hated more–clothes or books–but eventually ended up venturing into the study area.
The room was remodeled recently, but before that, she guessed it hadn’t been touched since Jade disappeared. Yet, all the books, covered in dust, were titles such as ‘Economic Policy’ and ‘The Worldly Philosophers’.
The Liars Page 5
