The Liars (20 page)

“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–”

“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 ba
ck 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.

“Prince Quincy.” Memory shivered, wishing profusely that she had brought a jacket. “I kinda wish I’d seen him in person. He was actually adorable.”

Magazine clippings of the little boy Viletta kept in her room popped into Memory’s head. How old had
Prince Cassian’s half brother been? One? Two? She squinted, trying to read the markings on the gravestone but she couldn’t make out the numbers.

“Pity.”

“How did he die? Was it murder?”

Prince Cassian
sighed. “No, far from it. His body was found in the horse stables.”

“You’re kidding!” Memory cried. “How?”

“Of course, you will find no evidence in the stables. It was quickly torn down and rebuilt within two days.”

“That’s horrible! I can’t imagine…” Okay, so maybe she felt a little bit of pity for Queen Pearl. Just a little bit.

They passed the little boy’s grave with Memory swiftly changing the subject.

“Did you find out
anything about Kendall?”

Prince Cassian
let out a long breath. “I have not thought about it.”

“Not even the ‘killed my unborn child’ thing?”

“You believe him?”

“Well…” Memory didn’t want to answer it without sounding like she absolutely hated his father. Which she did. But she didn’t need another reason for
Prince Cassian to be annoyed. “Maybe he was telling the truth? I’m just saying it’s a possibility.”

“I would know if my father had done anything of the sort!”
Prince Cassian snapped back, as expected.

“Would you now? Did you know about the tunnels, then?”

“…That is a different issue.”

Memory rolled her eyes. “My point is, it’s good to look at all perspectives. Analyze every detail before making a judgment. That’s what you’re good at, right?”

“All perspectives? This is from the girl who loathes everyone with a drop of royal blood.” He shot back.

“I thought we just established that I can actually like some people?” Memory pointed out. “We’re both really narrow–minded. I was wrong. I admit it. But if Kendall really was the thief, you might want to figure out why. Just saying.”