The Liars (29 page)

“Memory!” She writhed, trying to move towards her. Someone knocked her to the ground as they ran. Memory tried reaching a hand ou
t but she was forced backwards as well.

“Jade?” Someone exclaimed. Memory gasped, ducking and pulling her sweater over her head. “Princess Jade!”

Memory spluttered nervously. “No–I–”

“Oh, Princess!” The maid standing inches away from her stepped closer. She grabbed onto her shoulder before she could escape. “You’re here! GAURDS! PRINCESS JADE IS HERE!”

Memory didn’t know how anyone could hear anything over the sound of screaming and utter terror, but suddenly she was lifted up and out of the crowd by three guards dressed in stark black. In their arms were guns, too.

“Let me go!” She howled, kicking and scratching them anywhere she could. “I need to find my sister! Let me go!”

They paid no heed as they dragged her into the palace, and the iron gates were shut.

Screaming ensued. Memory couldn’t tell the difference between hers and someone else’s.

She was lugged along, and even as she dug her heels into the ground, it made no difference. She was moving further and further away from the gates.

“Protect the Princess!” The maid accompanying them shouted. “Take her to the ball room! I’ll find his highness–”

Memory felt her legs twist painfully as she was thrown over the guard’s shoulder like a sack of flour.
She pounded her fists against his back, but it only hurt her hands.

She strained to look up. The crowd of people had dispersed, and there were sirens blaring everywhere. Memory saw a mob forming around a beefy–looking man with handcuffs. He was shoved into one of the police cars, and there was no doubt about it.

It was Kendall Banks.

“Please, let me go, LET ME GO!” Her animalistic cry was ignored in favor of Prince Cassian’s orders.

They were in the ballroom along with businessmen, businesswoman, and royalty from around the world. Many were injured only slightly, but were tended to nevertheless.

“The man responsible for this will serve life in prison, I assure you.” He said in a rush, eyes darting back and forth nervously. His lips twitched. “Prince Edward will be alright, he is being looked after by only the very best.”

Protests broke out among the crowd, fancy words being thrown here and there. Memory couldn’t recognize a single person, and tried to wring free of the guard’s grip but was too weak and exhausted to even move a step.

“I do not know the details. But please, remain calm.” He bowed and rushed around the ballroom, avoiding the questions launched at him. Memory watched with dirt and tear filled eyes, screaming for freedom.

Prince Cassian
stopped ten feet away, eyes wide.

“I do not have time for this.” She heard him mutter, but she shouted so loudly that he had no choice but to listen.

“I
told
you!” She said, before raising her voice another octave. “I TOLD YOU!”

Prince Cassian
whipped towards her, gnashing his teeth together painfully. “Jade–”

“LISTEN TO ME!” Her lungs squeezed every last breath out of her. “WHY DIDN’T YOU LISTEN TO ME? I TOLD YOU, BUT NO. YOU CAN’T DO ANYTHING BEFORE MAKING SURE EVERY SINGLE FREAKING DETAIL IS TRUE–”

The guard holding her loosened his grip from the volume of her voice. She was screaming herself dry.

“AND NOW YOUR FATHER IS DEAD. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU DO TO ME?” Her throat burned. “I HATE YOU, CASSIAN EASTCOTE. I HATE YOU!”

She cried, sobbing on the last note. Her emotions broke like a dam, and Prince Cassian’s eyes lit up with
absolute loathing
.

Memory should’ve been careful. She’d jumped into this blazing inferno without a thought spared for her life. And now she was entangled so much there was no hope for escape.

Ever.

And then she saw him step back, almost limping.
His composure cracked for a millisecond, and in that millisecond, in a moment of surprising clarity, Memory saw everything.

She saw guilt.

“You run away for days, and decide to come back on your brother’s coronation?”

Memory’s only response was to keep her eyes shut. A warm, motherly hand held hers. 

“I know you’re awake, dear.”

Memory forced her breathing to steady. Where was Lulu? Oh god, was she safe?

Lulu, please be safe. I’m coming for you.

Her phone buzzed. Memory twitched.

“There’s no use in pretending to be asleep now, your highness.”

A small sigh escaped her lips. Memory grasped her phone and turned it on silent. She then turned to see Diana sitting on a chair next to her, stroking her head.

“
Do me a favor and please do not run away like that again.” She sighed, setting her hands in her lap. “Prince Cassian was right. He said you needed some time alone, to think things through.” When Memory didn’t respond, she sighed. “He ordered no search for you to be done. But you even disconnected your phone, dear, and took no one with you. Most reckless thing I’ve ever seen someone do, Princess.”

Lulu, I need to find you.

“Are you listening? Would you like me to get you a glass of water, Princess?” Diana paused. “Your eyes. They are…grey.”

Memory shut her eyes again. Her throat felt like someone
had lit it on fire and burned it to ashes. She couldn’t move her tongue, and her lungs pained her with every breath she took.

Her silence disappointed the older woman. She tried to jump up and simply run out of the room that used to be hers in the palace, but she could barely sit up. There was no way she could escape the clutches of the palace in this condition.

“Master Elliot is still sick.”

Grunting, Memory rolled over, hoping it would alleviate the pain in her lungs.
In, out, in, out,
she breathed.

“Princess–”

“Enough, Diana!”

It didn’t come out as loud as she wanted it to, but had the same effect. Diana was effectively silenced.

Memory sighed into her pillow. “I need to go.” She attempted to croak, but it sounded like a guttural cry more than anything.

“Don’t leave. It’s dangerous out there!” The head maid exclaimed
when she noticed Memory trying to move. She put a hand in front of her but Memory pushed her away.

The nightstand next to her bed helped her balance on her feet, but she swayed back and forth, confused as to whether she was spinning or the world around her had decided to dance.

That’s an odd way of putting it.
She thought wryly.

The doors to the balcony were only a few feet away, and
she lunged for the doorknob. She fell but grabbed it in time, steadying herself.

Her balcony faced the outside of the palace, unfortunately. She couldn’t see anything but a large expanse of grass outside and the stables from the corner of her eye.

“Diana,” She started in a raspy voice, and the maid rushed up to her, “Take me to the study.”

Her words were garbled beyond belief but Memory lifted a weak hand to the study area. Confused but unable to do anything but obey, Diana pulled her along, leading her slowly to her desk.

Memory flung herself onto the bookcase. And ignored the gasps from the head maid as it spun around, suddenly plunging her into darkness.

Her phone rang again, and Memory held it up to her ear with weak hands. It was Lulu, riddled with fear.

“Memory–Memory, can you hear me? I’m at central park–they won’t let me go any further. Where are you?”
There was shouting in the background, but thankfully Lulu’s voice was still clear as ice.

Memory couldn’t respond as she stumbled along the walls of the tunnel, trying to find some semblance of familiarity.

A sharp object swiped her hands away and her phone fell to the ground. Memory screeched a throaty tenor.

“Oh, Jade!
I thought you were someone else.” Light illuminated the sudden face that had appeared. “Jade? You–you are home!”

Memory looked up through her eyelashes and saw a tear streaked Tsavori
te. She tried to answer the woman but it hurt too much to.

“Goodness, I can’t begin to fathom what just–someone tried to kill Prince Edward and–you were gone and no one knew where you were–” The woman began to cry, her mascara running down her cheeks in terrifying black streaks. As she blubbered, Memory breathed slowly, feeling sorry for Tsavorite but unable to comfort her. Lulu was more important.

She attempted to trudge by but Tsavorite held onto her tightly.

“Are you leaving again?” Her voice broke. Memory paused for a minute but then gave her a quick nod.

“Please don’t go. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

Memory shut her eyes tightly and yanked away. She leaned against the dirt w
all, breathing through her mouth so dust wouldn’t clog up in her nose.

It was when she was ten yards down, near a fork, when she realized she’d forgotten her cell phone. Too late to go back, Memory searched for an exit, confused as to where she
was. Was the dining hall painting exit further up, or to the right?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a
ring of light, about fifty feet away. As she got closer she saw an opening above, and could see a swinging chandelier in the ceiling of the room she’d come across.

It took her four tries to swing up successfully. Her legs were like jelly–it took minutes at a time to move them in the direction she wanted.

She climbed through the hole and rolled onto the carpet flooring. A floor tile sat next to her, but Memory didn’t have the heart to push it into place. Whoever this room belonged to, they had forgotten to close the entrance to the secret passageways.

The room’s elegant decorations and fragrance reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t exactly pinpoint who. It wasn’t until she came across the lounge when she realized it belonged to Tsavorite.
Or used to. The woman had probably gone back to the Jackson Estate after Zoisite’s party but returned to the palace for the coronation, as evident by the suitcases lines up along the wall.

It looked like everything had been done in a rush. There was a tea spill on the coffee table, and was still dripping down the sides of the table only to further soak the carpet.
The bed was unmade, which could be attributed to the maids (the poor girls had enough to do), and dresses that were laid out on the floor in front of the closet.

Memory
felt bad about sneaking around the room, seeing as how her last attempt to poke her nose in someone else’s business ended badly, but as she retreated into the tunnels, a silver glint caught her eye. At first, she thought it was a crown, or maybe some item of clothing, but as she crawled closer, she realized it was a vial of metallic–looking liquid.

Science project, eh?

Memory picked it up, glancing at it curiously, but when coughs wracked her body, she set it down.

Underneath the vial was a set of pictures. After the coughs died away, Memory glanced at them in a passing, curiosity sated, but then saw that it was a picture of her.

And Lulu.

She closed her eyes tightly and opened them again, but it was still there. Her fingers shook as she picked up the picture, tracing her finger across her sister’s face.

It was a picture of them sitting at the café, with Kyle standing behind them. It had been taken through the window, as evident by the glint around Memory’s face, but there was no doubt about it. It was definitely her and Lulu.

Worry creeping up her throat, Memory grabbed the next
few pictures, her fingers leaving oily prints on each one. A photo of her and Prince Cassian hugging outside the hotel, one she recognized from the tabloids. It had been taken over three months ago.

There was another–of her and
Prince Cassian dressed in swimsuits on the beach of Clithorp. One of her crouching over Elliot as his head bled after saving her from the horses. One of Prince Quincy–whom Memory had never seen in real life, but unmistakably recognized–sitting in the stables and playing with Julian. And the next one was the same scene, but with Prince Quincy lying on the ground, blood on his lips. There was a picture of a little girl, gagged and tied up as she was stuffed into the back of a van.

Jade. When she was kidnapped.

Her breathing labored. The last picture was of a dead body. The real Jade’s dead body. Her limbs were twisted painfully but a serene smile on her face, like she was just sitting on the beach and enjoying the view.

Her heart was caught in her throat. She
tried to scream but none came.

As she stared at
the last picture, Martin’s words hit her like a wave. There was no way it was possible.

Cavorting around with married women. Married. Tourmaline never had anything to do w
ith Kendall Bank’s disownment because she was never married.