The Liars (13 page)

She thanked him and went back to her room, huffing in irritation. The guards at the entrance of her room stared at each other in confusion, no doubt baffled as to how she’d appeared outside without the door opening. She simply smiled mysteriously and entered her living quarters.

The bookcase was pushed again, and once more, she was traveling through the tunnels, jogging down the steep path and tracing her steps back to the
Main Wing. There had to be a tunnel connecting the Main Wing to the Guest Wing, right?

“Princess Jade?”

Memory froze. “Chrysander?”

He chuckled, blocked the narrow path. “I should have known you would sneak around.”

“I can’t stay locked up, you know.”

“Even with the palace on high alert?”

She laughed sheepishly. “I, um, just wanted to visit Elliot.”

He grabbed her by the collar and pulled her in the opposite direction.

“The boy’s fine.” He said distastefully, and Memory narrowed her eyes at him. She hoped he could see her expression through the dim light.

“You don’t seem to like him very much.”

They walked further, and Memory wondered where he’d been. She impatiently waited for an answer, and when it didn’t come, sighed.

“He’s really nice. What did he do that makes you hate him so much?”

Chrysander let out a long breath. “Not what he did, Princess Jade, but his parentage. You’re young; you do not understand these things.”

“You’re nine years older than me.” She replied flatly. “And no one tells me anything around here. Do you know how hard it’s been, readjusting to the palace?”

“These are difficult times.” Chrysander agreed. “The country isn’t daring well, and with recent issues, I’m afraid it won’t be long until it breaks down.”

Memory liked this guy more and more by the minute. “It’s horrible.” She agreed. “Corruption and everything. You probably don’t know it but I do. I grew up with people who were given the shorter end of the stick.”

“I manage foreign affairs.” Chrysander stated, as if she didn’t know before. “King Darius installed me in the position specifically to ensure that there is no threat from other countries.”

“What’s the point when your own country is being driven to the ground?” Memory asked bitterly. “No one will need protection from other countries because their own will have killed them.”

She didn’t stay around to see the look on his face.

The lock down lasted for three consecutive days. Not a single hair of DNA belonging to the thief had been found. All anyone knew that the safe had been broken into, the glass that encased the crown was smashed, and the crown was missing. Everyone was on high alert, even after the guests left and police no longer swarmed the grounds.

Memory was finally able to visit Elliot, and the poor man was condemned to three weeks on bed rest. His head was wrapped in bandages but still managed to look beautiful.

“Sorry.” She said, sitting on a stool the maid had brought. She sat close to the bed as he sat up and leaned back against the headboard. “At least you don’t have to do anything for a few weeks, though.”

“Thank you, Lady Jade.”

He was brought a tray of warm food but he didn’t make a move to eat. They were silent, and Memory wondered if he was always this quiet.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, Lady Jade.”

Memory stood up, examining the room. “I bet it does.” She said, gazing out the window.
Though the sun was not in her field of view, she could see bright ribbons of light stretching across the sky. “I cracked my head open when I was young. I remember it feeling like someone was hammering my head open.”

“You seem to be a clumsy one, Lady Jade.”

Shocked, she sat back down. “Did you just make fun of me?”

He was completely straight-faced, but amusement was
evident in his dark eyes.

She pretended to be offended. “I don’t like you anymore.”

“Are you quite sure, Lady Jade?”

I’ll be damned to hell if I fall for him.

She scowled. “You wish.”

He didn’t respond, looking down at his food and tentatively picking up a spoon. Memory actually watched him eat for the entirety of his meal, and when she returned to her room, she was gob smacked with the realization that her heart beat for him.

The nightmares got worse. She had no idea why or when they’d become so bad, and she had almost no recollection of them. They were simply images that frightened her so bad she refused to sleep. And on the rare occasion that she did, she would wake up in a puddle of tears and sweat, crying for help.

As she stood in front of the mirror, she wondered when her life had gone wrong. The twenty-five million wasn’t cutting it anymore.

She examined her limp hair, puffy eyes, and sunken cheeks.

Six more weeks, Memory. You can do this.

The Vivistes were still occupying the majority of the Guest Wing. They wouldn’t be leaving until after Zoisite’s eleventh birthday which was in about a month.

Memory, meanwhile, tried to do everything to find out more about this Kendall Banks person. There was nothing. Nothing about him after his disownment, and nothing
about
his disownment. As far as she could tell, he was simply casted out of the family. Gone. No trace of him.

One night,
afraid of sleeping early, she made up her mind and joined the family for dinner. It was almost worth it, just seeing Prince Cassian’s shocked face and his brother’s bafflement.

“I apologize.” Memory
curtsied and took a seat next to her brother, Prince Edward. She smiled at the rest of the people at the table. “I haven’t had the best manners; I do hope you forgive me.”

Emerald, Ruby, and Queen Pearl were not there. The entire Vi
viste branch were present, though, including a shriveled old woman who Memory assumed was Crystal, a scruffy old man, two almost identical looking sisters, and three young men, two of which she’d met at the ball.

One of the sisters was blushing heavily, placed next to Chrysander who was heartily eating his meal. The other sister was sniffing her food, stabbing it with a fork.

Memory’s heart sunk.
Even more weirdoes.

The chattering was minimal, and even Tsavorite was surprisingly quiet. She kept making eye contact with Gilford, who would turn away with a small sneer.

Although, Martin was staring at her like a raw piece of meat. It made her feel extremely uncomfortable and hadn’t even realized her dress had slipped off her shoulder until Prince Edward nudged her ever so imperceptibly. She flushed, pulling the dress back up and finishing her food, the first to be excused.

She waited outside, waiting for her target. Tourmaline left, huffing as she walked by, and then the two sisters, who giggled at her. Martin came out five minutes later, joined by his younger brother, until Memory stopped him.

“Could…could I talk to you for a moment?”

M
artin chuckled as his brother wiggled his eyebrows. “Of course.”

Is his head always in the gutter? Or was he dropped on it as a child?

Ignoring his side comments were getting harder and harder by the minute. So instead of beating around the bush, she cut to the chase.

“Tell me about your brother.”

Martin’s smile dropped. “Fredrick? Don’t tell me you shoot for the younger boys…”

“The older one. Kendall.”

What did one call it when someone looked like they were going to faint?
Whatever the word was, he was floored. Absolutely floored.

“How did you hear about that? Did you drop in on our conversations?” He stuttered worriedly. “I could have you in trouble, you know. Guards! GAURDS!”

Memory slapped a hand over his mouth and swung him around to the back of the statue where no one could see him. He writhed under her tight grip.

Pansy.

“If you haven’t noticed, information about the royal family isn’t exactly secret, you know. Everyone knows about Kendall. It’s everywhere on the internet, you stupid bag of bones.”

She released him just as he paled. “What? How dare they? Does it say what he did? I swear, my father will kill yours if–” He abruptly shut his mouth, unfortunately.

“Go on.” Memory urged. “Nothing stopping you now. If you must know, that’s why I’m asking you. What did he do that was so bad?”

“Why do you want to know?”

Memory raised an eyebrow at him. “Good question.” She mused. “I wonder why.”

“Everyone has secrets.” Martin snarled, shoving her
backwards. “If I see you one more time–”

“What, you’ll hit me?” Memory mocked. “
I’m the Princess! I could get you kicked out of the damn country!”

“It’s none of your business.” He said shakily. “Get away from me.”
Spit hurled out of his mouth and landed on her nose, and she wiped it away with disgust.

“Why?” She demanded, her voice raising. “Is it because you don’t want me knowing about your brother? Is he the same one that was ‘cavorting around with married women’?!”

She could say no more as her head snapped back, cheek burning with the sting of his slap.

Chapter 10

Digging up old palace mysteries
probably hadn’t been a good idea, and there was a huge possibility that she was completely off, that his brother had nothing to do with it.

Except, he did. His cry of, “Your aunt seduced him!” was only confirmation of it. Which launched a full out fight as Memory punched him in the jaw in defense, and
as he landed he hit her on the shoulder. She fell back with a painful cry.

His hand came down again but was stopped by
Elliot’s bandaged ones. Memory’s eyes widened.

“You aren’t supposed to be up!
” She proclaimed. “What are you–?”

“You are not worthy of being called a human being.” Elliot
gripped Martin’s arm tight and twisted it, prying a cry from him.

Martin gritted his teeth, veins popping out of his neck. “Let go,
damnit, LET GO!”

“What is going on here?”

Memory stopped, petrified. It was Queen Pearl.

“Your highness,” Elliot started, still holding Martin, “He attacked
her.”

“She threatened me!” Martin howled, tears in his eyes. “You’re crushing my arm, let go you son of a–”

Elliot threw him to the ground, and Queen Pearl held up a hand, her neck turning an ugly shade of red and puffing up her cheeks.

“All three of you.” She said in a clipped voice. “Come with me.”

They stood across from her, in a line. Martin whimpered, his arm bru
ised beyond repair, and Memory cupped her red face with her hands. Only Elliot seemed to be unaffected, even with his bandaged face, but it was only expected as he was the king of apathy. It was like he hadn’t even been angry minutes before. His flat expression had settled in the minute Queen Pearl was present.

Scariest stepmother of the year, hands down.

They stood in the ballroom, which was horrible because the silence penetrated her ears. The queen sat on her throne, completely silent and unmoving. Only the sound of Martin’s whimpering was louder than the silence.

“Jade.” She started. The very word made Memory cringe with fear. “I knew no good could come of your return. A filthy commoner in our ranks?”

Memory’s fingers curled into fists as she tried to keep her anger in check.
Make that decade.

“Martin Banks.” She turned to address the whimpering man next. “I assure you, your father will hear of this. And after all I have done
for your family? And all Queen Beryl has done? Is it not enough? Physical abuse is not taken lightly here, young man. Your bags are to be packed and you will be sent home first thing tomorrow.” She harped. “You are hereby
banned
from the palace. If you have any common sense remaining between those ears of yours, you will leave immediately.”

The sniveling man took off faster than a lightning bolt. And then Queen Pearl faced Elliot.

“What has gotten into you? Acting so impulsively? You almost had me fooled into thinking you were useful until now. Do you want me to alert your parents? Or perhaps tell his majesty that his own ward injured a guest?”

Elliot held up a hand. Memory’s eyes widened.
What the heck is he doing? He’s going to get his head cut off for that–

“What was I supposed to do then, your highness?” He asked as Queen Pearl’s nostrils flared.

We’redeadwe’redeadwe’redead!

“You have no right to say anything. You, the son of sinners.”

“I didn’t choose to be.” He responded in a frighteningly calm voice. The Queen tried to cut him off but his voice was too loud. “Let her be bloodied? Injured? I cannot for the life of me see how a woman of such impeccable judgment would allow her
own
stepdaughter to be hit for the purpose of saving your reputation?”

Queen Pearl stood up, pointing a shaky finger at him. “Elliot Eastcote, you say one more word and I will slash you from the family registry this
instant
!”

The edged of Elliot’s lips curled into a smile. “If that is what you want, do it.” He dared. “I refuse to be part of a family–if it could be called that–who value their own standing over their children.”

He grabbed Memory’s hand and led her away. She was completely frozen, her nerves dying from terror. She gasped the moment they exited the ballroom, heaving and taking in large breaths. It wasn’t enough, and Elliot set her down on the nearest chair, kneeling in front of her and clasping her hands in hers. He didn’t say anything, waiting for her to catch up on breathing.

Her face broke into a cold sweat.

Minutes passed with just her labored breathing. Elliot kept his grip on her hands tightly, and she looked at him, really actually looked at him.

On one side of his head, under his ear, was a large scar. It stretched up to his forehead, and Memory didn’t think it would ever fade.

She traced the scar lightly, caressing his face. He shivered.

“Congratulations.” She said. “That was the longest string of words I’ve ever heard you say in one breath.”

Memory was locked in her room
for three days. And this time, there were six cameras. One was pointed at the study room, right where the bookcase was, so she couldn’t even escape from there.

From what she’d heard from the maids
’ gossiping, the entire Viviste family had packed up and left. Not without curses thrown here and there from Gilford. Except, his sister-in-law, Topaz, stayed since she was Chrysander’s fiancé.

What scared her most was King Darius.

“He didn’t eat dinner yesterday.” One of the maids said. “I delivered food to him and he looked like he was going to murder someone.”

But Memory, along with those issues, had another problem. What had Martin said? Ah, yes.

“Your aunt seduced him!” What does that even mean?

Diana, her only comrade in this madness,
had been assigned to Ruby instead, so it was truly a punishment for Memory.

Not that she missed the woman or anything
.

The only surprise came was when Zoisite barreled into the room, holding a pile of clothes and books.

“I’m staying here.” She announced.

Memory, who’d been lounging on one of the velvet chairs, jumped up. She glanced at a maid, who shrugged.

“She was throwing a tantrum. Queen Pearl allowed it.”

Memory was surprised, but was still baffled as she watched Zoisite throw the clothes into a closet and then jump onto her bed.

“But–why my room?”

Zoisite picked up one of the books she’d
brought here and shrugged. “You’re the funniest.”

Memory rolled her eyes. “So I’m babysitting now? Is that what the old hag–I mean,” she coughed, “Queen Pearl wants?”

No one answered, so Memory sighed resignedly.

“Why are you here?”

Zoisite looked up from her book. “Why are
you
here?” She shot back.

“This is my room.”
Sitting down, Memory responded flatly. “I’m imprisoned like you were a while ago.”

“Not that.” The little girl said exasperatedly. For a little girl, she sure had a loud, obnoxious voice. “Why did you come back?”

Memory lay down, thinking. “Hm. Good question.”

“If I were you, I would’ve stayed and not come.”

“Why not?”

Zoisite shut her book and flipped onto her back, joining Memory as she stared up at the ceiling.

“Tell me about it.”

“About what?”

“You’re really stupid.”
Yeah, definitely obnoxious.
“About where you lived. Before you came here.”

Huh, that was odd. No one in the palace wanted to know about the “eleven years she was gone”. Which was good, because Memory had already forgotten the story she was supposed to keep straight.

“No.” She said in a strained voice.

“Why not?”

Succumbing to her request, Memory turned on her side towards the little girl. She still couldn’t believe that technically Zoisite was her aunt.

“Only if you say please.”

Zoisite wrinkled her nose. “I’m your aunt. I don’t have to.”

“Fine, then. I won’t say anything.” Saying that
turned out to be a horrible bad idea, as Zoisite got up and started smacking her wildly. In retaliation, Memory grabbed a pillow and smacked her in the face. She was horrified.

“You can’t do that! That’s not allowed!”

“What, you’ve never had a pillow fight before?”

Zoisite scowled but looked down at her lap. “What’s…what’s a pillow fight?”

Memory’s response was another pillow to the face.

It took the maids three hours to sweep away all the feathers on and around the bed. Zoisite, red-faced and smiling, changed into her nightclothes and settled herself on the bed, albeit as far away from Memory as possible. She pulled the sheets up to her face.

The lights were turned off, and while Memory knew she would probably get in trouble for breaking rules again, it was okay. It would be attributed to her recent move, but Zoisite…did King Darius and Queen Pearl have to be so harsh on her?

“Have you ever been outside the palace grounds?” Memory whispered loudly. She knew Zoisite was still awake, evident by the constant turning, but the girl didn’t respond.

Probably too ashamed t
o.

“Well,” Memory cleared her throat, “It’s awesome. I mean, Sugrove is beautiful, but there’s so much more. In
Whecombe Pass, where Prince Cassian found me, they have these things called corn dogs. And donuts on a stick.”

When she heard
a quiet gasp from the girl, she continued.

“And
there are so many people. I hate online school. Before, you would go to school every morning at like, seven, and have to sit in tiny cramped classrooms with thirty other sweaty people. It was awful.” Memory smiled wistfully.

“But it was fun.”

Sleep came at a lugging pace, but Memory was up the moment darkness was bestowed upon her. Her scream echoed in the room, and a maid rushed up to her, glass of water in hand.

“Princess! Princess! It was just a nightmare.” She said in a soothing voice. “Do you need me to call a doctor?”

Memory’s lips were shut tight. Why was this happening? She’d never had nightmares before. Taking a deep breath, she got out of bed. There was no way she could sleep, not tonight.

Zoisite was, thankfully, snoring away through the entire ordeal, and Memory sat near the glass doors that led to her balcony, watching the little girl as her chest heaved up and down from loud breaths.

I want to go home. I want to stop.

The nineteen year old stayed up the rest of the night and well into the morning. It was around two pm in the afternoon when she crashed, and when she woke up (nightmare free, thankfully), her face felt sticky. She walked into the bathroom, and screeched when she saw the layers of honey dripping from her hair.

Zoisite laughed, pointing at her. Memory growled, throwing a bottle of soap in her direction, before resuming to the hideous task of washing her hair free of the goo.
Her shouts soon turned into dry, heaving coughs so she shut her mouth.

Her aunt, she supposed, wasn’t used to this. Being able to act like her age. And Zoisite knew it too–Memory was the one that let her do this and not reprimand her for it like everyone else did. That was probably why she asked to stay in her room for the remainder of Memory’s punishment.

“Zoisite,” She called, and then rolled her eyes remembering the actual term, “
Aunt
Zoisite!”

“What?” The girl looked up from her book. “Stop yelling so loudly, it hurts my ears.”

“Since you can leave the room, do you mind doing me a favor?”

“Of course I mind.”

“You haven’t even heard what I wanted to say yet!” Memory insisted. “Could you check up on Elliot?”

Zoisite blinked.

“Why would I do that?”

“Just–just tell him to call me. Or text me. I’m worried.” Memory said in a rush, scribbling down her number on a scrap of paper. She handed it to Zoisite. “Thanks.”

Zoisite stared at the paper, and then looked up, an evil grin spreading over her rather adorable face. She cackled, and Memory didn’t even know it was possible for ten-year olds to cackle.

“Okay…I will. Except, you have to do something for me…”

And that was how Memory found herself in the dead of the night, making an escape plan.

“You know,” She said to Zoisite hours later, after she’d returned from Elliot’s room, “I could’ve just done this and talked to Elliot.”