The Liars

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The Liars Page 21

by Hashmi, Heraa


  “Oh no, this is the event of the year.” Another one of her ‘aunts’ fluttered into the room, holding a fan to hide the bottom half of her face. “Zoisite’s parties are always the best.”

  Memory watched the chaos unfold around her and turned five shades darker with fury.

  “So my room is suddenly a dress–up free–for–all?” She raged, and much to her indignation, Zoisite, Tsavorite, and Diana nodded in unison.

  Not knowing how to respond, Memory attempted to leave, but was blocked by a flood of maids, each holding a jewelry set. There was no end to the line, and Tsavorite seized the moment to drag her into the center of the room.

  “You never know!” She harped, “You could meet ‘the one’ at this party! Almost five hundred people attend, only the most elite from around the world.”

  A pair of shoes were shoved in her face, and Memory knocked them away. Ruby, who she hadn’t seen for ages, also showed up, twittering about and muttering nonsense. Accompanying Ruby was Topaz, Chrysander’s fiancé, someone Memory couldn’t care less about.

  “Where’s Tourmaline?” Tsavorite said from underneath a pile of skirts and ribbons. “She never misses these. I had to handpick everything, and the cloth is only the finest.” She sighed wistfully, and Memory, finding no value in the items, kicked them away. Diana was aghast.

  “Princess!”

  “I’ll look for Tourmaline.” Memory stated. It was an excuse to leave. “You guys…do whatever.”

  She was already half way out the door when Zoisite yelled in protest. It wasn’t shocking to see a number of maids lined up across the halls, carrying shoes, sandals, jewelry, hats, scarves, gloves, and other things Memory couldn’t bother to identify as she barreled towards the elevator. If she thought her ‘family’ was crazy before, they were utterly insane now.

  The bottom floor was much quieter. Prince Cassian, even if he was at the palace, would’ve been in the West Wing where King Darius usually worked. And Prince Edward was in Japan, Elliot was with Prince Cassian, and Chrysander was also gone.

  So Memory savored the silence, traipsing along the halls. She hadn’t even gotten a full five hours of sleep before Diana and the girls decided to turn her room into a madhouse. At that moment, she decided that horses were a girl’s best friend.

  She paused momentarily in front of Prince Cassian’s door. Her skin turned a bright pink when she remembered that afternoon and scurried along.

  The silence slowly turned into a low buzz. Memory raised an eyebrow, wondering if Chrysander was back in his room, when another voice joined his. The door to his room was wide open, and she quickly spotted two figures sitting near the closet area with their backs turned to her.

  “Chrysander, I am begging you!” That high–pitched voice only had one owner; Tourmaline. “He’s in jail. Convince father, or at least let me see him and my–”

  “Sister!” Chrysander’s voice boomed so loudly Memory could hear it from where she was standing.

  “I cannot imagine how you feel, but you know that I–”

  “Then try!” Tourmaline cried. “Try to understand! I’m driven to the end now. She’s only eight years old. Only eight.”

  “We will both be disowned. Father cannot stand any association with the man, and neither will I.” Chrysander paused. “I recommend that you forget about this ordeal and move on. Jace is waiting and so am I. This discussion is done.”

  He turned, freezing when he spotted Memory. She clasped a hand over her mouth and whizzed away, as Chrysander shouted after her.

  “Jade!”

  She heard Tourmaline’s screech, and just made it into the elevator the moment before either of the two could reach her.

  She was lowered to the entrance that brought her to the parlor in the Main Wing and nearly gave some butler scouting the halls a fright. Memory ran as fast as she could, panting as she skidded along the halls to face the painting across the dining hall. Something buzzed in her pocket.

  “H–Hello?” Her hands trembled with fear as she held her phone close to her ear. She had never seen Chrysander so angry.

  “Jade, listen to me. Kendall Banks has escaped.”

  The moment Memory stepped into the tunnel and the painting hid her form view, she screeched.

  “What?!”

  Prince Cassian took a deep breath. “It is like he vanished. There’s no trace of him, anywhere.”

  “Just like when the heirloom was stolen? So we know it’s definitely him who was the thief?” Memory knew she sounded breathless, and when Prince Cassian commented on it, she coughed. “Answer the question!”

  “Yes, he was the thief.”

  Memory jogged deeper into the tunnels, trudging through the murky water and sliding down the steep slopes.

  “Prince Cassian.” She started seriously, still shaken from what she’d overhead. “I need you answer this carefully.”

  “I just got down from the flight half an hour ago, and will be home soon.” There was some mumbling on the other end and Memory heard Elliot’s distinct voice before Prince Cassian addressed her again. “What do you need?”

  Memory looked at her mud–covered shoes.

  “How old is Lilyana?” She waited patiently for him to answer. “Hello?”

  “Lilyana? She is eight years old, I believe.”

  Memory’s gasp echoed in the tunnels for minutes on end.

  Chapter 15

  Kendall and Tourmaline. Kendall and Tourmaline.

  No wonder…

  She gagged. And Martin Banks had given her a clue all along! He’d even explicitly stated that her aunt had seduced him. Of course! That’s why Kendall Banks was disowned. He and Tourmaline had a child, King Darius didn’t like it, and the poor guy was kicked out of the family.

  But he was disowned fifteen years ago. Lilyana is eight.

  Memory wanted so badly to shout it out the moment she figured it out, but from past experiences, her impulse wasn’t about to get her anywhere. No one would believe her over Tourmaline if she suddenly started blabbering random things out.

  And good thing she did, because the numbers didn’t match up. While it seemed like a good guess, even giving Kendall a motive for why he stole the heirloom, it wasn’t quite right. Why now? Why wait so long?

  And now the idiot himself had escaped from jail. Memory didn’t have vast experience with jail cells, but she didn’t think a convict could escape easily, especially with the royal family on his tail. Unless he had help from someone in the family, of course.

  What if he’s coming back here? What if he’s going to kill everyone? What if Tourmaline helps because Chrysander didn’t let her see her daughter?

  Memory’s thoughts swirled out of control. The thin air in the tunnels wasn’t helping either, so she turned to the right, hoping it would lead to her room. She hadn’t navigated the secret passages in a while, and her thoughts, muddled with conspiracy theories, wasn’t helping either.

  “Diana! Diana!” Memory shouted, entering her room. The study room was untouched, thankfully, by the frilly items but the moment she entered the lounge, hilarity ensued.

  We need damage control.

  “Diana!”

  The head maid looked up. She glanced at Memory, and then at the entrance of her room, and then tilted her head in confusion.

  “How–”

  “Princess!” Tsavorite leapt up, holding a plate of biscuits. “I was wondering where you’d gone. Here, take one.” She forcefully shoved a biscuit into Memory’s hands, watching her carefully.

  “Um, not now.” Memory set the biscuit back onto the plate. “We have a major problem, well not really major, but I think it’s sorta important because–”

  “Take a deep breath, Jade.” Tsavorite smiled kindly. “What happened? Do you need to take a seat?”

  “No, no, I’m just–” Memory hiccupped, “I’m fine.”

  “Did you find Tourmaline?”

  “I…kind of?” Memory squeaked. She rubbed her forehead. “I need to go
.” She ducked as Tsavorite tried to hand her another biscuit, and this time, no one yelling after her as she quickly made her way outside.

  She couldn’t stop twitching as she waited for Prince Cassian. It was like springs had been glued to the soles of her feet. It was bad enough trying to dodge Chrysander and Tourmaline (hence why she was crouched behind a tree, thank goodness it was nighttime), but the urge to see the Prince had won out. If only he would just show up.

  But then what? Was she just supposed to tell him that his aunt had a daughter with Kendall Banks, the thief, and was trying to overthrow the family by orchestrating the event with the heirloom?

  It sounded farfetched, even to her.

  At one point she saw Chrysander step outside, glance around, and then return after mumbling to himself. Memory let out a breath of relief, and it was only magnified when the gates opened.

  The cars stopped half way to the garage. Elliot and Prince Cassian both stepped out, a gaggle of guards following them. The escape of Kendall Banks had elicited more security, evidently.

  When they approached the fountain, Memory jumped out, startling the guards. Elliot, whose primary arrangement of facial features was a blank expression, only blinked at her antics. Prince Cassian looked woefully bemused.

  “Mud?” He narrowed his eyes, like he knew she’d been scavenging the tunnels again.

  Memory nodded quickly. “Can we go? We need to go. I figured something out. Elliot can come too, and oh no, let’s go through the West Wing, just in case Chrysander finds me–” She rambled on, oblivious to the questioning glances of both men. Prince Cassian stepped back as she grabbed his arm, trying to tug him forward.

  “Jade–” Prince Cassian stared but a new voice joined in.

  “JADE!”

  That last one belonged to Tourmaline. She stomped towards her, her eyes and mouth twitching with anger. That enough told Memory what to expect the moment Tourmaline got her hands on her.

  “I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!” She screeched, pointing a finger at her.

  Prince Cassian glanced at his aunt and back at Memory. He raised an eyebrow in confusion, like he was wondering if he should smirk or be concerned.

  Tourmaline hurled a great many curses at her. She darted forward, and Memory, eyes wide with fright, made a move to jump behind Prince Cassian. Her foot jammed into a rock, and with outstretched arms, she knocked him and herself both over the ledge of the fountain.

  They landed in the water with a splash.

  Her ears were completely full with water, so it was difficult to hear what Tourmaline was yelling at her, or what Elliot was saying, but it was easy to hear Prince Cassian’s yelp of surprise. And then his girly shriek.

  Memory’s arms and legs were still entangled with his, which was embarrassing to say in the least. She bobbed up and down, trying to untangle her hair with his wristwatch, and observed quietly as the guards quickly fished Prince Cassian’s suitcase out of the fountain. The water spouting from above felt like rain, which only made Memory’s vision blur further. She wasn’t sure what was tears and what was water.

  Tourmaline had been held back by a guard, and Elliot bent over the ledge, uncaring his thousand dollar suit would get wet. He held out a hand.

  Memory, with a furious yank, pulled back the last of her hair from the Prince and moved to accept Elliot’s help. Prince Cassian himself, seeming to have figured out what happened, grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to her feet. The water only came up to her waist.

  The two shivered in the cold. Some maids, including Alexa, scurried outside and wrapped a towel around them. Memory swung one leg over the edge, and then the other, shuddering.

  “Sorry.” She said, glancing at Prince Cassian with shame–filled eyes.

  “You should be.” He choked, wiping his face with a towel. But then he smirked. “Guards, let Prince Edward know he should change the fountain to a hot tub.”

  It wasn’t surprising that she woke up to a stuffy nose and sore throat. The maids wouldn’t stop giggling, the entire staff in the palace already having heard about her clumsiness, and Memory shot them all a glare. It wasn’t her fault she had a knack for running into trouble. Trouble usually came to her.

  Either way, hot chocolate was a blessing. And so was the strong medication Alexa gave her, whatever it was. Memory hoarsely thanked her, and fell back down on her bed, happy with lying there for the rest of the day. Her head felt unbelievably heavy.

  But then she realized she had one day left. Today, tomorrow was the party, and then she was gone. Done. Twenty–five million dollars in her hands.

  She let out a long breath as Diana approached her, breakfast in hand.

  “Lady Tourmaline and Master Chrysander have been asking for you.”

  Memory failed to notice Diana’s curious expression as she dug into the warm eggs, toast, and another cup of hot chocolate.

  “Princess?”

  “Hmm? Don’t let them in. Especially Tourmaline.” Memory ordered through a mouth full of toast. “She was about to strangle me yesterday.”

  Diana curtsied and left, leaving Memory to her devices. She practically inhaled the rest of her breakfast, even ordering another plate. By the time she was done, her throat was still hoarse but the medicine had started to take effect. Her nose was cleared, and her head felt light.

  Lulu called again, which was one of the only welcomed voices Memory wanted to hear that morning.

  “You’re coming back tomorrow night, right?” Her sister squealed, much to Memory’s chagrin.

  “Quiet down. I’ll get another headache.”

  Lulu stopped squealing. “Another?”

  “I fell into a fountain yesterday.” Memory rubbed her head, slipping her feet into a pair of slippers and stretching. “Woke up with a pounding headache.”

  “Sounds like you.”

  “Princess,” Diana barreled in again, “His highness wants to see you. Or should I call him here?”

  Memory clasped a hand over the speaker of her cell and mouthed to Diana that she would be down in a minute before returning to the conversation with Lulu.

  “Princess? Your highness?”

  “Uh, they’re just nicknames we call each other. Call you back later.”

  “Bye!”

  “Is your father okay?”

  Unnerved but confident, Memory strolled into the Prince’s temporary room in the West Wing, coughing as she did so. It was a bit surprising, to be summoned by him. A sudden thought hit her–what if Chrysander and Tourmaline had told him about her overhearing their private conversation?

  At least I had a great conversation-opener, right?

  “Our father is fine.” Prince Cassian shuffled around his desk, and to her immense amusement, noted his unkempt hair and wrinkled clothes.

  Everyone around here looks like they just died and came back to life.

  “Whoops. I meant our.” She paused, fiddling with her thumbs. “How are you, by the way?”

  “Cold. Sore throat.”

  Memory winced. “Sorry…hey, um, I need to tell you something.”

  He obviously didn’t hear her. She watched him call his butler over, who was carrying a large box covered in red cloth. Prince Cassian muttered some quick words to him before turning to Memory.

  “Your crown.” He said in a thin voice, pulling the cloth away to reveal a glass box with a small silver crown cushioned on the bottom. Memory gasped.

  “Finally!”

  Prince Cassian gave her an odd look as she reached forward, suppressing the urge to squeal in delight. There was a single gemstone–a beautiful shade of murky green–set in the silver of the crown. Despite the lighting in the room, the crown shone brightly, twinkling on its own. The butler tilted the glass back, but Prince Cassian stopped her from touching the crown.

  “Not with your grubby fingers.” He said, taking the box with him and setting in down on his desk, despite all the papers scattered about. He waved the butler away, so it was just Memory and him in the
room.

  “Is that why you called me down?” Memory inquired, eyes still glued to the crown. “Or did something else happen?”

  Prince Cassian hummed. “I located the location of my sister.”

  Memory whooped in surprise, but all of a sudden felt sadness wash over her. It was most disturbing, but the myriad of emotions didn’t stop her from blurting out, “where?!”

  “Her…body was found in Korea.”

  “Body?”

  Prince Cassian sat down at his desk. “She was already dead. Dead at the age of fourteen.”

  Well, that was unfortunate. But it wasn’t until Memory saw the Prince struggling to keep an apathetic expression on his face that the realized the impact of his words.

  “Oh.”

  She didn’t know what to do in situations like these. Were they well acquainted enough for her to hug him? She’d certainly hugged him before–but that was to annoy him, not to comfort. And he’d kissed her on the cheek.

  But still.

  She sighed and opted for patting him on the back, but it seemed like he didn’t need it as he bent over and opened the drawer to his right. It revealed a square velvet box, and he gingerly held in the palm of his hand. Curiosity piqued, Memory took it from him.

  “Open it.” He ordered.

  “If a clown or something pops out…” Memory started, hesitant to open the box. She’d had more than a few psychologically damaging episodes with a jack-in-the-box.

  My childhood. Sheesh.

  Much to her elation, a thick silver bracelet was inside. It was lined with golden thread, and Memory immediately snapped it around her left wrist. It fit perfectly.

  “I was wondering when I’d get expensive jewelry.” Memory smiled cheekily. “Like, there’s some nice stuff in my closet, but nothing like this.”

  The barest trace of a smile lit up on his lips, but it left too quickly for her to be sure.

  “You may keep this.”

  “Huh?”

  “After you return.” He clarified.

  She jumped with glee. “Really?!”

  “Yes.”

 

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