Red Queen (Red Queen 1)

I can only imagine how that went. Oh, hello. Your daughter is a Silver now and she’s going to marry a prince. You’ll never see her again but we’ll send you some money to help out. Even trade, don’t you think?

“They know you work for us and have to live here, but they still think you’re a servant. For now, at least. When your life becomes more public, we’ll figure out how to deal with them.”

“Can I write to them at least?” Shade’s letters were always a bright spot in our dark days. Maybe mine will be the same.

But Cal shakes his head. “I’m sorry, that’s just not possible.”

“I didn’t think so.”

He ushers me into my room, which quickly sparkles to life. Motion-activated lights, I think. Like back in the hallway, my senses sharpen and everything electrical becomes a burning feeling in my mind. Immediately I know there are no less than four cameras in my room and it makes me squirm.

“It’s for your own protection. If anyone were to intercept the letters, to find out about you—”

“Are the cameras in here for my own protection?” I ask, gesturing to the walls. The cameras stab into my skin, watching every inch of me. It’s maddening and after a day like today, I don’t know how much more I can take. “I’m locked in this nightmare palace, surrounded by walls and guards and people who will tear me to shreds, and I can’t even get a moment’s peace in my own room.”

Instead of snapping back at me, Cal looks bewildered. His eyes blaze around. The walls are bare, but he must be able to sense them too. How can anyone not feel the eyes pressing down?

“Mare, there aren’t any cameras in here.”

I wave a hand at him, dismissive. The electrical hum still breaks against my skin. “Don’t be stupid. I can feel them.”

Now he truly looks lost. “Feel them? What do you mean?”

“I—” But the words die in my throat as I realize: he doesn’t feel anything. He doesn’t even know what I’m saying. How can I explain this to him, if he doesn’t already know? How can I tell him I feel the energy in the air like a pulse, like another part of me? Like another sense? Would he even understand?

Would anyone?

“Is that—not normal?”

Something flickers in his eyes as he hesitates, trying to find the words to tell me I’m different. Even among the Silvers, I’m something else.

“Not to my knowledge,” he finally says.

My voice sounds small, even to me. “I don’t think anything about me is normal anymore.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it. There’s nothing he can say to make me feel better. There’s nothing he can do for me at all.

In the fairy tales, the poor girl smiles when she becomes a princess. Right now, I don’t know if I’ll ever smile again.

TWELVE

Your schedule is as follows:

0730—Breakfast / 0800—Protocol / 1130 Luncheon

1300—Lessons / 1800—Dinner.

Lucas will escort you to all. Schedule is not negotiable.

Her Royal Highness Queen Elara of House Merandus.

The note is short and to the point, not to mention rude. My mind swims at the thought of five hours of Lessons, remembering how terrible I was at school. With a groan, I throw the note back down on the nightstand. It lands in a pool of golden morning light, just to tease me.

Like yesterday, the three maids flutter in, quiet as a whisper. Fifteen minutes later, after suffering through tight leather leggings, a draping gown, and other strange, impractical clothes, we settle on the plainest thing I can find in the closet of wonders. Stretchy but sturdy black pants, a purple jacket with silver buttons, and polished gray boots. Besides the glossy hair and the war paint, I almost look like myself again.

Lucas waits on the other side of the door, one foot tapping against the stone floor. “One minute behind schedule,” he says the second I step into the hall.

“Are you going to babysit me every day or just until I learn my way around?”

He falls into step beside me, gently guiding me in the right direction. “What do you think?”

“Here’s to a long and happy friendship, Officer Samos.”

“Likewise, my lady.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Whatever you say, my lady.”

Next to last night’s feast, breakfast looks dull in comparison. The “smaller” dining room is still large, with a high ceiling and a view of the river, but the long table is only set for three. Unfortunately for me, the other two happen to be Elara and Evangeline. They’re already halfway through their bowls of fruit by the time I shuffle in. Elara barely glances at me but Evangeline’s sharp-eyed stare is enough for both of them. With the sun bouncing off her metal getup, she looks like a blinding star.

“You should eat quickly,” the queen says without looking up. “Lady Blonos does not tolerate tardiness.”

Across from me, Evangeline laughs into her hand. “You’re still taking Protocol?”

“You mean you aren’t?” My heart leaps at the prospect of not having to sit through classes with her. “Excellent.”

Evangeline scoffs at me, brushing off the insult. “Only children take Protocol.”

To my surprise, the queen takes my side. “Lady Mareena has grown up under terrible circumstances. She knows nothing of our ways, of the expectations she must fulfill now. Surely you understand her needs, Evangeline?”

The reprimand is calm, quiet, and threatening. Evangeline’s smile drops and she nods, not daring to meet the queen’s eye.

“Luncheon today will be on the Glass Terrace, with the ladies of Queenstrial and their mothers. Try not to gloat,” Elara adds, though I never would. Evangeline, on the other hand, blushes white.

“They’re still here?” I hear myself ask. “Even after—not being chosen?”

Elara nods. “Our guests will be here for the coming weeks, to properly honor the prince and his betrothed. They won’t leave until after the Parting Ball.”

My heart plummets in my chest until it bounces around my toes. So more nights like last night, with the pressing crowd and a thousand eyes. They’ll ask questions too, questions I’ll have to answer. “Lovely.”

“And after the ball, we leave with them,” Elara continues, twisting the knife. “To return to the capital.”

The capital. Archeon. I know the royal family goes back to Whitefire Palace at the end of every summer, and now I’m going too. I’ll have to leave, and this world I can’t understand will become my only reality. I’ll never be able to go home. You knew this, I tell myself, you agreed to this. But it doesn’t hurt any less.