Take the Key and Lock Her Up

I’m throwing off the covers, chasing after her, but I don’t know why. I only know I’m darting into the hallway and then …

Slamming to a stop.

“Hello, dear.”

“Ms. Chancellor?”

How many hours has it been since I last spoke with her? A little over a day at most. But that feels like ages ago, and now she stands before me like a ghost from another life.

“What are you … ?” I trail off, then look down the hall behind her, behind me.

I need to know what kind of tragedy is looming on the horizon now. I want to know if she knows that the Society has moles within the palace. I want to ask what Mom was looking for—what she found. But, most of all, I want her to tell me that my grandfather is okay—that she’s not here to break even more bad news.

“Grandpa?”

“He’s fine.” Ms. Chancellor eases forward. “He’s getting stronger every day.”

“Then … why are you here?” I ask.

“I came to see you.” She opens her arms, but I don’t go to her. If I let her hug me, hold me, I might cry. And if I start crying, I may never, ever stop.

Ann was right, I know. This is my path. My destiny. The one and only way out. And the sooner I make my peace with it the sooner I can grow numb.

The sooner I grow numb the sooner it will all be over.

“Grace,” Ms. Chancellor says, “are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine. It’s just … I just woke up.”

“Have you spoken with Dominic?” Ms. Chancellor asks, but I can only nod. “You aren’t alone,” she tells me with a smile.

I just shake my head slowly. Right now—in this moment—it feels like she is the young one, the naïve one, the foolish one. I don’t have the heart to tell her that I am always alone.

“What brings you by?” I ask, my voice too casual, too light. And she knows it. But she never gets to answer because that’s when Ann’s voice comes floating over my shoulder.

“She’s here to help, silly.”

I spin. “Help with what?”

“Turning you into a princess, of course.” She actually smiles when she says it. And I can’t help it: I turn to Ms. Chancellor, eyeing her, wondering if I’m the only one who sees this moment as surreal.

But Ms. Chancellor is a born diplomat. If she notices anything amiss, she doesn’t show it. Her brown eyes twinkle as she says, “Her Highness was kind enough to include me in today’s fun.”

Fun? Ms. Chancellor knows me well. I don’t even have to say the word aloud.

“Now, Gracie …”

As soon as Ann uses my nickname I want to scream. I want to claw. But Ms. Chancellor shakes her head, a gesture so slight that only someone who knows her well would see it.

“I just live here now,” I say. “I won’t have to be a princess for a long time.”

“Oh, but we have to start building you now,” the princess says.

“Building me how?”

“Your perception. Your persona. Your personal style. If in a few years, people are to believe that the prince has fallen for you, then we will need you to be a bit more polished.” She looks from my bare feet to the top of my bedhead and I want to recoil. This woman doesn’t have the right to judge me. If anything, this woman should fear me.

“It will be fine, Grace. Parts might even be a little fun. That’s why I’m here. To help you get ready for the party,” Ms. Chancellor says.

And this stops me.

“What party?”

“My father-in-law has been on the throne for fifty years now,” Ann says. “There will be a gala to commemorate the occasion in a few days, and this felt like the perfect time to bring you out, so to speak.”

I look at Ms. Chancellor. “It is for the best, Grace,” she tells me, and I hear what she doesn’t say.

If I’m going to do this …

If this is going to be my life …

If I’m to keep my deal with the devil, then eventually I’m going to have to live up to my part of the bargain.

“So?” Ann claps her hands together. She actually bounces a little as she says, “Let’s get started.”

It wasn’t that long ago that I stood with Noah in one of the formal rooms of the US embassy while Ms. Chancellor taught us how to dance. I remember trying on clothes with Megan, laughing in a limo with my grandpa.

It was only a few months ago, I realize, but it might as well have been another decade. I might as well have been another girl.

“No, Grace,” the princess snaps. “That curtsy is far too low for a countess. Unless she is a duchess or higher, then you mustn’t go below here.” She holds her hand at my midsection, orders me to try again.

“Now. You cannot stand in the receiving line of course—”

“Of course,” I echo, and Ms. Chancellor eyes me, a warning.

“But Thomas shall escort you in for the evening, and I assure you that as soon as you take your place on my son’s arm, everyone will notice.”

“Yay,” I say.

Ms. Chancellor steps on my foot.

“My office is spreading it around town that I’ve taken you in. The optics are very good, you know. Orphaned girl taken from homelessness to the palace.”

“I’m not homeless! I’m not an orphan. I have a father and a grandfather. I have people who love me,” I snap before it hits me. Before I realize that it’s true.