Mother?
Realization dawned on Memory.
“She…”
“You were quite young when she passed, dear.” Diana said in a soothing voice, and Memory frowned, lost in thought. The pensive expression that adorned her face didn’t leave her as she said,
“I’m going too.”
Her head maid huffed in annoyance.
“Not in those clothes, Princess.”
“Of course not! I’m not stupid, you know.” Memory responded scathingly, rummaging through her closet for something appropriate to wear. She settled on a gray dress, reluctantly, as it was the only thing she could wear to a cemetery.
“Wait.” Memory stated, pausing. “Can I leave? Don’t I need permission?”
Diana shook her head. “His majesty is unconscious. For now, Prince Edward is in charge. And in this chaos, I do not think this is a big issue.”
“Oh. Okay then.”
Maybe I should tell Zoisite…no, never mind. Bad idea.
“Why does he still visit his mother, though?” Memory asked innocently, shrugging off her cardigan as she shut the door. Diana was still listening from the other side. “It’s been a long time since she died.”
She could hear Diana gasp in shock.
“Dear, I know you must not have had a stable family, moving from one place to the next. But those who pass have the biggest right upon us, Princess.”
Memory snorted quietly. “But don’t the dead want us to be happy and not spend our time crying over them?”
“Yes, but his highness is simply paying his respects to the late queen.” Diana grinned as Memory walked out of the closet, not happy with her clothing but not totally annoyed.
The head maid held up a pair of matching heels. “Beautiful shoes will take you to beautiful places.”
Memory, while hating the prospect of wearing heels (to a cemetery no less) didn’t disobey as Diana gave her a threatening look. Her eyes softened when Memory slipped them on. As she fiddled with the straps, she noticed a silver glint from Diana’s side pocket.
“What’s that?”
Diana gave her a confused look, and when Memory pointed to her pocket, she giggled. “Oh this? What a nice time to talk about it.” She pulled it out, and with disappointment, Memory realized it with a pen.
“Don’t be so disappointed, dear.” The head maid chastised her. “This pen was the pen my mother used to sign her vows with my father. It is the last thing I have of her.” She explained softly, examining the pen and then tucking it back into her pocket. “I take it everywhere with me.”
Guilt plunged into Memory’s stomach. “Oh. That’s really cool, Diana.”
My mother…Memory couldn’t finish her own thoughts, lest she start crying.
The whole “girl’s weren’t allowed on the first floor thing” didn’t faze Memory at all. In fact, most of the occupants were used to seeing her here and there, but even then, Alexa, the maid accompanying her, was uncomfortable as she knocked on Prince Edward’s door. The person who opened it, presumably his butler, waited patiently as Alexa explained things to him. He nodded, leaving to relay the message to Prince Edward.
Prince Cassian’s older brother was certainly an odd one. Memory didn’t see him around often, and she couldn’t determine if he was nice or mean by her standards yet.
He was nicer looking though, if that helped at all.
Prince Edward walked out all of a sudden, pulling down the sleeves of his shirt. He’d grown a beard, as if he had no time to shave.
“Oh, Jade.” He breathed, as if he hadn’t known she would be there. “Excuse me, I need to go sort things out with father–” A group of guards followed him out as he turned right and down the halls.
“Wait! Can I go outside the palace?”
He barely paused, rushing by. After fishing a pen out of his pocket, he scribbled something onto a scrap of paper and handed it to her. “At this time? Take Robert with you.”
Memory breathed a sigh of relief.
Poor guy.
Despite it being almost one am, Robert was kind enough to drive her almost thirty miles down south. Two maids accompanied her on the ride, neither of them as effervescent or bubbly as Diana, and when Memory arrived, they refused to accompany her. Memory, so used to being followed around for the most part, wondered why.
“His highness won’t allow us to go.” One of the girls said, bowing. “We will wait here.”
Memory pointed to the gravesite, aghast. “So he just sits there? Alone, with no guards or anything? Doesn’t Prince Edward come too?”
The two maids stared at each other, uncomfortable. Memory finally got the hint and bid them good night, before descending the steep hill.
There were only a few graves here and there, with large trees overshadowing most of the area. As expected, large statues were erected, and Memory recognized many of the names; Harold Eastcote, Ara Eastcote, and even Spinal.
She was Harold’s first wife? No, second.
The lack of sleep didn’t help sate the incoherence of her thoughts at all, but she lightened up when she saw a small figure crouched near the gravestone. The bounce in her steps lessened to a soft stroll as she suddenly felt anxious. Whether it was anxiousness towards the situation, or Prince Cassian in particular, she had no idea.
“Jade.”
Memory jumped. “How did you know it was me?” There were no lights, anywhere. The only source of light was the moon.
Prince Cassian let out a long breath. “The smell of stubbornness was lingering about.” He didn’t say it teasingly like he usually did when talking to her.
“Was that an insult?” Memory questioned, sitting down and patting the ground around her to make sure there were no twigs around to scar her. “Who’s the one who spends the night at a cemetery, alone, with no guards or anything? You know, the more I talk to you, the more I’m convinced you need to be admitted to a mental institution.”
There was the sound of shuffling, and suddenly Memory could smell his cologne. Which didn’t smell bad at all. It was quite nice, actually.
She wrinkled her nose. Great. Now I’m the crazy one.
“I’m assuming you have something important to say since you came all this way?” He was sitting right next to her. “At least you didn’t sneak out…or did you?”
“I got permission. Prince Edward’s in charge.”
“Yes. So, what do you want?”
“Er.” Memory recalled the conversation with Queen Beryl, but hearing the overwhelming sadness in decided it was best to leave it. “Can’t I just talk to you when I want to? You weren’t picking up your phone.”
“No.”
“Oh. Well. I just wanted to come. That’s all.” I came all this way for nothing. She thought sadly, but when she read the words on the gravestone in front of her, she thought otherwise. “Queen Opal, 1969 to 1998. Born as Cecile Stronghold?” She gave Prince Cassian a questioning glance, which obviously, he couldn’t see.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed the female names in the household.”
“Um.” Truthfully, the names had struck her as odd, especially Tourmaline and Zoisite, but had she completely overlooked the fact that they had all been…gem names?
“Females who marry into the family change their names.”
“And the males?”
“There’s no requirement for them.”
“Again, chauvinistic.” Memory sniffed. “How did she die?”
Prince Cassian chuckled. “You have no tact.”
“My mother ran away, you know.” Memory snapped back haughtily. “You knew that of course, since you went full on creep three months ago. At least you could tell me about yours.”
“What will that do?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you’ll feel better?”
“I feel fine.”
“That’s exactly why you’re here, at one am, alone. It’s not good to be alone when upset.” Memory paused, overcome with sadness herself. “I should know.”
/>
He remained quiet, and while Memory had a burning urge to provoke him further, she didn’t.
I’ve been practicing self-restraint a lot these days, she mused, plucking at the grass. She didn’t know how Prince Cassian could just sit there, though, staring at the gravestone, unmoving. She was nearly bouncing up and down, looking for something to do, and was even about to leave when she felt a cold hand grip hers. She could feel the scars from earlier on the palm of his hand, and his face was probably still bruised horridly.
“Car crash.”
“I’m sorry.” She really meant it. “Could I ask you something?”
“Nothing’s stopped you yet.”
Memory rolled her eyes. “Just being nice. You should try it sometime.” She paused, feeling really warm all of a sudden. His grip on her hand didn’t lessen, but it wasn’t cold anymore. Rather, it felt nice.
“What was she like?”
Prince Cassian hummed. “I don’t particularly care for back stories.”
“Except mine.” She retorted, referring to the incident in which he practically blackmailed her into accepting his request. “And remember, I don’t know much. Besides, imagining you as like, a little toddler who can’t stop crying is hilarious.” She paused, grinning widely. “I should ask Tsavorite for pictures! I can’t believe I haven’t thought of this earlier!”
“No.” Prince Cassian deadpanned. “Not over my dead body. And I never cried as a child.”
“I believe that as much as Tourmaline saying she’ll get married.”
“Lady Tourmaline was very close to mother.” He said. “Actually, I believe she was her favorite out of all her in–laws.”
That was surprising. Memory didn’t think anyone would willingly want the woman in their company, least of all the previous Queen.
“Was she as intimidating as Queen Pearl?”
That elicited a chuckle from him. “No. Much more light–hearted.”
“How?” She asked, hoping he would tell her at least something about his childhood.
He leaned close conspiratorially. “One time, she went an entire day without her crown on.”
“Oh!” Memory exclaimed sarcastically. “The horror.”
“I feel as though she held great dislike for palace life, actually.” He admitted. Memory listened quietly. “She was very fond of Prince Edward. He was the eldest, the crown prince, destined to inherit throne.”
Memory nodded slowly. “And you? Jade?”
“She…she was too busy to speak to us often.” He cleared his throat.
“Ah.” She said understandingly. “Overshadowed by the elder sibling, eh? Not that I ever had a problem with that.”
“Not overshadowed.” The moon moved slightly from behind the trees, a sliver of light hitting Prince Cassian’s face just enough for her to see a small frown. “It was more that we didn’t hold as much monetary value as he did for her.”
“And here you are, the second son, the only one who still visits her year after year.” It was rather sad. How could she ever think of him as arrogant after seeing him like this? She almost felt like hugging him to death. “Why?”
“She was my mother.” He told her.
Memory wished she could think like that. Part of the reason she had never gone looking for her own mother was because she was scared, scared of what the actual reason of her abandonment was. The other was bitter hatred–a woman who left her children with a drunkard didn’t deserve second chances.
Maybe she was wrong.
Memory scoffed.
“Mothers. Who needs them anyway?”
“Everyone.”
“But–”
“That is why I will help find yours.” He said, cutting her off. She balked.
“You don’t have to, actually.” Her laugh was more nervous than she intended it to be. “I’ll have enough money, thanks to you. And I’m sure you already have a lot on your plate so…”
She couldn’t imagine what his life was like. The past three months had only been a taste of palace life, so for him it must’ve been ten times worse.
She couldn’t stand the thought of burdening him anymore. She was going to leave soon anyway, and probably never see him again.
What was strange was that the thought hurt.
What was stranger was it hurt more than the thought of having left Lulu behind.
Prince Cassian didn’t let go of her hand. “It’s not necessary to do things alone.”
“This is coming from you.”
“True.” He conceded. “But I pride myself on never breaking promises.”
Memory gave him a sidelong glance. “You don’t have a lot of friends, do you?”
She heard him huff in annoyance. “I do.”
“Oh yeah? Tell me about them.”
“Norman and Julius from the Santiago family. And then there’s Warren, from the Taylor family. They specialize in–”
He was cut off when she nudged him. “No, not like that. See, you look at people like they’re…like they’re stuff. Things to use. I mean real people who talk to you because they want to, hang out because it’s fun, and comfort you when you’re sad. People who you do stupid stuff with, I guess.”
Memory grinned wryly. She didn’t have a wide selection of friends either, but Prince Cassian didn’t need to know that. Probably because he already did.
Dang it.
If she was being hypocritical, he didn’t mention it.
“That’s a rather longwinded definition.”
“Yeah.”
“You.”
“What?”
“If that’s your definition, then you’re the only one that fits it.” If she could see his face, she knew she would see a smirk. “Ironic, really.”
Huh. Well, she was here because she wanted to talk to him. And they did go on a fieldtrip to Central Park with Zoisite simply because they were stupid enough (and possibly ambitious enough) to go. Come to think of it, Memory couldn’t recall spending that much time with any other person, with the exception of Lulu.
This is hella weird. “Oh. Well. In that case, you better visit once I leave.” She sniffed. “I wouldn’t condemn myself to the palace again.”
He chuckled. “And I have no doubt you wouldn’t be welcomed once you leave.”
“That’s true.” Memory sighed. “What’s the plan? Are we going to tell them the truth? Or are you going to find the real Jade and replace me with her?”
He let go of her hand. “Ah, I was wondering when we would breach the subject.”
“Now you’re just talking in circles. But seriously. What are we going to do? I’m leaving in like, four days.”
“You’ve been keeping track?” He asked, as if he was surprised. And was that…disappointment she heard in his voice?
“Of course!”
A few minutes of silence passed by, and Memory could practically hear the gears turning in Prince Cassian’s head. He was deep in thought, and she didn’t dare disrupt him.
She listened carefully, enraptured, when he finally spoke.
“We will need to be careful. Which you most likely will not, leaving me to clean up the mess.” He sighed. “But when you leave, you will forget about this. No mention of this incident will ever leave your lips.”
Memory let out a long breath. “I know. Because poor people like me can’t afford another lie. But how am I just going to leave?”
“Two options. The first is to tell everyone the truth.” He clasped a hand over her face. “I know, it is a bad idea. You would not stand for it, and honestly, I do not want to deal with the mess that would bring.”
Memory pried his hand away. “That was my nose, idiot.”
“It’s dark. What am I supposed to do?”
Memory shrugged. “Whatever. Go on.”
“Second option. Stage an accident.”
She whipped towards him, and she heard him groan as her hair smacked his face. “What?!”
“It’s certainly manageable, but–”<
br />
“Am I supposed to leave your stone–faced family thinking Jade is dead again?” She burst into a fit. “What about the inheritance? What about what you wanted me to do?”
Prince Cassian sighed. “I didn’t tell you this, but Queen Beryl made changes to her will yesterday. You, and by extension us, hold about half of the Eastcote’s possessions.”
“What!” Memory spluttered. “You could’ve told me! I could’ve been half way across the world by now!”
“The contract was for three months. And just four days away, you would not want to breach it.” He cleared his throat. “Truthfully, I was not expecting grandmother to live this long. It may be a problem if you leave before her death.”
“That’s a horrible thing to say.” Memory threw her hands up, exasperated. “This situation is ridiculous! And if you fake ‘Jade Eastcote’s’ death, what about me? Won’t my face appear on every newspaper, about how I was miraculously found and then died? I won’t be able to go anywhere without people thinking I’m a ghost back from the dead!” She screeched. Realizing that rambling was getting nowhere, she forced herself to calm down.
“And Tsavorite and Chrysander and Elliot–I can’t let them mourn for me.”
“Rather arrogant to assume they would mourn you.”
“Why wouldn’t they?” Memory sniffed. “They like me. Right? Or what about Diana. Poor woman would be crushed.”
Dead silence.
“What?’”
“Don’t tell me…” Prince Cassian started skeptically, “You have started to care for my family?”
She opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out. He was right. Again.
The initial plan had been for her to go in, do her job, and walk out. No harm done. But she’d made friends. Many of them, and they had become a crucial part of her life. She couldn’t live without them.
Her gut clenched.
“Oh no.” She groaned, and Prince Cassian mirrored her reaction.
“So they are not all pompous pricks, then?”
“Well.” She cleared her throat. “I guess they aren’t.”
“I suppose commoners are not all uneducated and savage.”
“Wow. Is that what you thought?”
He didn’t answer. Memory stood up, brushing the dirt off her dress, and he joined her. They took a stroll around the fields, but stopped at a small grave.
The Liars Page 18
