The King and Queen were sitting up front, high on their thrones, with a group of probably very highly-esteemed people, probably queens and kings from other countries.
That left either Ruby, who had her head dunked under a chocolate fountain, or Zoisite. Memory chose Zoisite.
“Having fun?”
Zoisite, who was sitting on the stairs, scooted away from her. “No.”
“Do you have any friends?” Memory gestured to the dance floor. Some children, maybe a year or two younger than Zoisite, ran around the adult’s legs, laughing loudly.
She wrinkled her nose. “They are babies.”
“You don’t look too much older.” Memory replied, annoyed with her behavior. Be nice for the money. The money, Memory.
“Then you are blind.” Zoisite puffed up her chest. “I’m almost eleven.”
“Ah.” Memory hesitantly made a move to ruffle her hair but she swatted her hand away. “You’re such a big girl now. But now you can’t run around and play with horses. You have to be like…like Emerald.”
“Then I’m a little girl.” She huffed. “What about you? You’re not like Emerald. You do crazy things. Are you a big girl?”
“Of course not.” Memory cackled. “I hate being boring. It’s so boring.”
Zoisite giggled but stopped when she realized she was giggling. “Whatever.”
“When you feel like talking, I’m here. The biggest baby you’ll ever know.” Memory reached over, quickly patted her beautifully made hair, and dashed away.
Emerald. While she was a coal in a room full of diamonds, she looked exceptionally beautiful today. She was surrounded by a horde of females, all fawning over her dress and shoes, and a group of males. Memory bravely joined them, bowing.
“I see you’ve met my awesome friend here.” Memory grinned at Emerald, who looked dumbfounded. “She’s the coolest person I know, you know.”
One of the men, or boy, since he couldn’t have been older than sixteen, blinked.
“Who are you?”
Memory curtsied again. “Princess Jade. And you?”
The boy and the others paled. Emerald coughed.
“Come on, bestie, let’s go.” She grabbed Jade roughly by the arm and dragged her to the chocolate fountain where Ruby was on the verge of choking to death by chocolate.
“What are you doing?” Emerald demanded. Memory shrugged.
“Trying to be nice.”
Emerald, confused, huffed. “Whatever you’re doing, don’t. I don’t need it.”
Memory sneered back. “Of course you don’t, not with that face of yours.”
The redhead threw her hair back, laughing. “Oh, as if you’re any better.” She smiled condescendingly and sashayed back to her friends.
Fans, more like it.
“Uh, Ruby.” Memory waved her hand in front of the woman, who was swaying back and forth. “You alright?”
“Choco. Choco good.” She darted for the chocolate fountain and Memory stopped her.
“Oh no, no more. Look, you’re drooling.”
Ruby was covered in splatters of brown, but whoever had dressed her was smart enough to make her gown brown and black plaid. It wasn’t too bad, but Memory still grabbed some tissues and patted her down, while she moved side to side, grinning widely.
“Princess Jade, is it? Do you need any help?”
Memory, still wiping down Ruby, shook her head. “No thanks.” She stood up, turning to the newcomer. “Who are you?”
He looked a bit like Chrysander, with a goatee and dark hair. His dark eyes were different, and mischief swirled in the depths.
He smiled widely, revealing a set of perfect teeth. “Martin Banks. I believe you met my brother,” He indicated the boy standing next to Emerald, “Frederick Banks.”
Memory tilted her head. “That’s nice…”
“Would you like to dance?”
She shrugged. She had nothing better to do, right?
When she hit the dance floor, it was when she realized she didn’t exactly know how to dance. At all. Dancing was Lulu’s thing. Heck, even Bryan, in his drunken stupor, could dance better than her.
As Martin grabbed her waist, Memory awkwardly leaned towards him.
“I can’t dance.”
He smiled. “You’ll be fine. Follow my lead.”
The song changed, and Martin led her around the dance floor. It was the most awkward thing ever, even beating the conversation she’d had with Ruby about her nose.
She was never going to forget this. Ever.
“So…” Memory hoped talking would distract Martin from her horrible dancing. She took a step back as he moved forward, swinging her around. “You new here?”
Martin laughed. “I arrived here this morning. With your brother.”
“You’re a Viviste?”
“My mother was. Olivine is my grandmother.”
“Ohhhh. That makes sense.”
He twirled her around, once, twice, and then they were back to facing each other. Except, he seemed to be getting closer and closer until her bodies were completely touching.
This is awkward. Way to go Memory.
“We’ll be related if my aunt marries your uncle, you know.” Martin said, spinning. “Of course, that makes no difference to me.” His lips inched towards hers, and she hastily turned her face just in time.
“Yeah. Well. I’m nineteen. Not looking to get married any time soon, buddy.”
If Martin was put off, he didn’t show it. His grin just widened so much his lips were thinner than strings.
“I’m twenty-three. I don’t believe age makes a difference.”
“It does.” Memory, growing increasingly worried, tried to untangle her body from him.
“It’s only a matter of opinion.” He replied cheekily.
She sneered at him, wanting to slap the man into oblivion. “Yeah, okay, I’m gonna go–”
“Martin, are you propositioning my fiancé?”
“Jaedon.” Martin stopped, and Memory was grateful for the interruption. “Your fiancé?”
The one who’d stepped in was taller than Martin, and had a frustratingly high voice for a man. “Great grandmother already promised me–”
Memory backed away, hoping to weave herself into the crowd where no one could find her. But sudden shouts erupting from where the buffet table was stopped her.
“POTS.” Ruby screeched. “NO POTS.” Her hands were tangled in Emerald’s hair as she yanked her back and forth. Tsavorite was next to her, trying to untangle her from Emerald, both women were shrieking so loudly it was impossible to hear. A crowd formed around the trio, and King Darius stood up to join then, his loud voice granting him immediate obedience.
There was something wrong here. Memory could feel it in every vein of her body. The hair on her neck stood up, and the world seemed to blur around her.
One blur, a completely black one, zipped by. She gasped and stumbled backwards, trying to find him.
Is that a thief?
Something in his hands twinkled. It was silver and it was bright.
It was a knife.
He streaked across the ballroom floor, unnoticed, and passed the table Chrysander and Prince Cassian were sitting at. Both were oblivious to the intruder, and Memory rushed by, grabbing Prince Cassian by the collar.
“What–” When he saw it was Memory, he closed his eyes. “Not right now, Jade–”
She didn’t let go of his collar and forced him to spin him around with a strong grip to face the hallway the man had just ran into.
“That man.” Memory shook. “He has a knife!”
Prince Cassian took one look at her, and then back at the hallway which the man had disappeared into. And promptly cursed. Scorch marks appeared where Memory stood as Prince Cassian was suddenly gone, running so fast he left a trail.
“Wait for me!” She cried.
She caught up to him where the hallway split. The right led to the dining hall, the left to the parlor.
“You go right, I go left–” She started but he pulled her along.
“He has a knife. I’ll alert the guards but stay close.” He yanked her arm so she could speed up. “I’ll get angry at you later.”
The skidded to a stop at the next turn. Their loud breathing echoed in the corridor, but a quiet creak made them whip their hands around.
“That way!” Memory cried. There was a loud crash, and then the sound of a door opening. The two sped up, almost crashing into the wall as they made turn after turn. They passed the parlor, which Memory noticed was a complete mess She didn’t get a complete look as Prince Cassian rushed by it too quickly.
The hand holding her arm fell to her sweating hands, and he curled his fingers around hers. They stopped at the next corner, sweating, and waiting for any sign of movement.
The corridors were empty. All the staff members were busy catering to the crowd in the ballroom. There barely anyone was standing watch.
“This hall loops around to kitchen.” Prince Cassian murmured. “Wait for it…”
Creak.
They ran to the kitchen, their eyes trying to find any sign of destruction. Everything was in place, with extra food lined up neatly on the silver counters. Not a hair out of place.
Another creak. But it sounded from across the hall, opposite to the kitchen. Memory and Prince Cassian stared at each other, rushing to the exit when the door slammed shut in their faces. They heard running from outside and Prince Cassian fiddled with the door knob, trying to get the door to budge. Memory rushed to the other two doors, one that led directly to the dining hall and the other to the outside.
The sound of Prince Cassian kicking the sliding door was like thunder. And his shouting didn’t help.
“Hey, HEY!” Memory yelled. “Shut up!”
Prince Cassian threw a few more curses around, and then backed onto the counter, out-of-breath.
“I can’t believe it.” He said between pants. “How did someone manage to get past the security at the front?”
Memory pulled off her flats, the bottoms fraying from the marathon she’d just run, and rubbed her feet. “Who was he? What did he want?”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be there.” He cursed again. It wasn’t often one got to see him mad. He rarely lost his cool, and when he did, he usually bit back with sarcastic remarks laced with dangerous threats. Memory knew because she’d been on the receiving end quite often.
As the two caught up on their breath, Memory tried to unlock the doors. How could they be locked from the outside?
“In the olden days, the workers would be locked in to prevent them from leaving.” Prince Cassian explained. “The locks were never removed.”
“How did the guy know about the locks?” Memory asked, before adding, “And if he did, he set up everything too. To trap anyone who came after him. How?”
“I do not know.” Prince Cassian bit out, and Memory knew it took him a lot of effort to say it.
“You don’t like not knowing stuff, hm?”
He glared at her. “Of course not.”
Silence ensued, and Memory sat down on the counter, next to a pile of mini cupcakes. She eagerly bit into one. “How was Japan?”
Prince Cassian didn’t answer, reaching into his pockets. “Jade…” He started slowly, “Do you have your phone?”
Memory instinctively reached for her pocket…but it wasn’t there. She was wearing a dress. She looked at Prince Cassian worriedly.
“Don’t tell me…”
“I left my phone on the table. With Chrysander.”
“Oh no.”
With that, Prince Cassian picked up the nearest microwave and launched it towards the door.
Thirty minutes later, the two found themselves utterly exhausted.
“They’ll come eventually, right? The party. There’s extra food. I mean, the cooks might come back.”
Prince Cassian banged his head against the wall. “Not if the Ruby issue isn’t resolved.”
Frowning, Memory bit into another cupcake. “Why is she afraid of pots?”
“I do not know.”
“You know, you seem to be saying that an awful lot lately.” She teased, but when he didn’t say anything back, she knew he wasn’t in the mood. Feeling guilty, she slid down to the floor, next to him.
“Cupcake?”
He took one look at the sugary confection in her hands and shook his head.
“I’m not fond of sugar.”
“Oh.” Memory stuffed it in her mouth. “More for me.” She chewed on five more cupcakes, relishing the sweetness, as Prince Cassian put his head in his hands.
“Hey…” Memory started. “It’ll be alright. I think.”
“You don’t seem worried.”
Grinning, Memory leaned her head against the wall. “My sister and I once fell into an empty well for thirty-six hours. I learned I have other things to worry about.”
“Like men with head injuries?”
Memory glared at him, her heart sinking. Why, oh why, did he have to provoke her just when things were getting better?
“He saved me.” Memory said defensively. “What, I can’t worry about people I want to worry about?”
Prince Cassian didn’t respond, closing his eyes and stretching out his legs. The dark circles on his face were only a sign of how tired he was. Not to mention, the mutinous expression on his sharp features, combined with the crossed arms and haughty demeanor was enough to cause her soul to shrivel up inside. His yellow skin looked so much healthier in the ballroom, Memory noted. Maybe it was because of the lighting. The light in the kitchen was so bright even Memory herself looked pale.
“Why do you always insult me?” She whined.
“Insult?” He started, chuckling darkly. “Who, just who, exactly called me abnormal?”
She whipped towards him. “Why do you care? I’m just a commoner, I’m a nobody. You shouldn’t care what I think!” She spat. “And I was angry, okay? Just because I’m poorer than you, and just because I’m less important doesn’t mean…doesn’t mean that…” She trialed off, feeling her eyes tear up. She looked away from him, hoping he wouldn’t see her cry or who knew what else he would tease her about.
Why the hell am I crying? What is WRONG with me?
“…You’re right.” He admitted softly. “I was wrong.”
Memory scowled. “What a surprise.”
Clearing his throat, he swiftly changed the subject. “I have yet to find who tapped my phone. Or took the pictures of us together.”
“Oh yeah.” Memory remembered with a jolt. She rubbed her eyes, glad they were dry now. “Wasn’t it just some random guy who recognized you outside the hotel?”
A few moments passed before he answered her. “It wasn’t random. I interrogated him before leaving for Japan, and it turns out, he was sent to trail us.”
Memory exhaled deeply. “So someone knew I was coming? Other than Diana, Jones, and Sarah?”
“Yes.” He murmured. “And I was careful with who I told. Those three are loyal to me, and are aware of what I can do if they disobey my orders.”
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” She demanded, “You could’ve called. Or emailed–something! If someone’s watching me, I should know.”
His cold gaze flickered towards her. “What would you do, knowing? Act even more immature?”
While Memory bit back a scathing retort, she knew he was right. What exactly could she do? He knew the ropes of the palace, knew all the right people and the resources. She didn’t.
I really should’ve studied better.
“You should’ve hired an actor. I’m not even joking.”
Prince Cassian took no notice, pulling his suit jacket off and rolling up the cuffs of his dress shirt.
“Help me open the door.” He ordered, grabbing a frying pan from the stove and swinging it towards the main exit. The pan hit the door with a resounding bang.
Memory laughed. “You just couldn’t get doors m
ade of wood, could you?”
He glared at her, hitting the door with the pan once more. It left nothing but a small dent on the side.
“I can’t believe it.” He panted heavily. Beads of sweat rolled down his face. “There has to be a way.”
“We could wait. It’s not like we’ll starve.” Memory picked up a biscuit and chewed it eagerly.
“There’s no time to wait. The thief probably escaped the grounds by now. I doubt anyone caught him.”
“We’ll figure it out.” Memory said through a mouth full of food. “There’s always a way out even in the worst possible…”
Her chewing slowed.
Why is my brain so stupid?
Memory spit out the biscuit and rushed around the counter in the kitchen, examining the white tiles excitedly, anticipation welling up at the pit of her stomach.
“There–there has to be a secret passage.” She said frantically. The Prince was taken aback.
“Jade, there is no–”
“Yeah there is!” Memory affirmed. “Chrysander–don’t look at me like that, I call them all by their first names–let me hide in his room when–”
Prince Cassian’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “He did what?”
“Never mind that. The point is, there are tunnels everywhere that lead to every room. Every single one, except bathrooms, I think.” The grin on her face was so large her cheeks hurt. “You know that painting in front of the dining hall? That’s one entrance.”
“Jade…” Prince Cassian started as if addressing a child. “I think I would know if there was a secret passageway.”
“Would you? Would you now?” Memory looked up, having scanned the entire floor. “There has to be an entrance somewhere.” She looked back at him. “Fine. Keep hitting that door. Let’s see how far you get.”
That irritated him noticeably as he got down on the floor with her and started examining all the tiles.
“Are you sure it’s one of these?”
“The entrance to Chrysander’s room is a floor tile…” She quieted as she thought about it. The entrance didn’t necessarily have to be the floor, right? The painting was most definitely not on the floor.
She crossed her legs, scanning the row of cabinets, dishwashers, ovens, and sinks. There was at five of each with the exception of the cabinets that had an extra one in the corner.
The Liars Page 10
