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I’ll try to leave more messages for you, to explain what’s happening and why, but I’m not sure how much time I have. As soon as it’s obvious I’ve run away with the princess, but that she’s still alive, they’ll come after me. My death will buy her some time, but I know that even after I’m gone, they will not stop. They will probably succeed. If her guards have turned traitors, then it’s only Hector left—he will never turn, I know that. Maybe a few more will be loyal to the end. But I won’t message Hector until the last possible second, because once he knows, he’ll try to do something.
And once he tries to do something, he’ll get killed too. And then… and then she will die. I don’t know how much time she has left, but I’ll hide her for as long as I can. And while we hide, I’ll… Forgive me for this, mom.
God forgive me for this.
But I’ll give myself and her a few hours together. I’ll try to get her to relax before I march to my death.
And hers, possibly, although I’ll do everything in my power to prevent that. I’ll do all I can to get her to a plane and back to Asteria. But if I somehow fail… If I die before I get a chance to do that, she will die happy. She will have lived, dammit.
I keep sending out messages to possible allies, and wracking my brain for where to hide, but there are so many turncoats, I’m scared of touching my phone. I’ve already had two failed attempts, and now I’m worried that my bosses know I have no intention of killing her. They will want to get me out of the way as soon as they can, so that they can carry on with another assassin. Sorry for using that word, mom. That’s what they’ll tell you your son is.
But I promise you, I did my best not to be that. To be the opposite of that. May God have mercy on my soul.
Meanwhile, I need to buy us some time, but we have nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.
So that’s where we’ll go.
Nowhere.
thirteen
I stop the recording abruptly, my hands shaking so badly the phone clatters to the floor. I kneel down to pick it up, and my legs buckle. I can’t get up. I don’t want to get up.
His voice… His voice is warm and husky and trembling with emotion.
His voice is alive.
As if not even a second has passed from the moment I was listening to him talking in my ear, telling me not to be scared, telling me he was happy.
I cry so hard that my chest feels too small to contain all my sobs. They’re drowning me, but I can’t stop the release of sorrow. I place the phone three inches away from my gathered legs. I won’t listen to any more. I can’t. I can’t break any more.
But the same second, I’m picking it up again, and going all the way to the top to listen to the messages from the beginning. I keep crying as I listen to his beautiful, steady voice describing the army, his friendship with Hector. I keep listening as he slowly reveals the plot to assassinate me and his decision and entrapment.
“She is guarded so well, for which I’m thankful,” his voice says on the day I found the ‘die, princess’ scribbled on my shower wall, “but… Why did this scandal have to happen right now?” He sobs, and I sob with him. “I’m so sorry mom,” he says. “This wasn’t part of my job description. But crying wasn’t either and I am doing plenty of that. Still, I keep lying to her. It will never happen between us, so I need to stop these thoughts from entering my head. And my dreams, and my… Ok, TMI. Not just because she is a princess, an heir to the crown and a freaking university student while I am nothing. But also because we’ll both be dead soon.”
I press ‘stop’ immediately.
That’s it. I can’t listen to any more of this. At least, not alone.
But I don’t want to listen to these messages with my dad, or even with Hector—they are too intimate to share even with them. Bianca has been calling the palace nonstop since I got back, and I’ve been talking to her, opening up bit by bit, but she keeps offering to come here to be with me, and I can’t have her miss classes. Not any more of them, at least. Besides, she is not the person who could help me listen to these either, even though she’s been more of a friend to me in the short months I’ve known her than all these fake royals I’ve known all my life.
Angel is out of the question, too. I no longer know him well enough for that.
There is only one person I need to be with when I listen to the rest of these messages. And that’s Marco’s mom.
…
“I’m going back to America,” I tell dad. “Now, today, if possible. I’ll take Hector with me, if he wants to come.
“Absolutely not,” he replies immediately. “I’m not letting you out of my sight again, let alone out of the country. Besides, you can’t go anywhere until this matter is cleared up. Security will never let you out of the palace, let alone Asteria. The implications and the danger are enormous. They haven’t found the assassins yet, nothing is resolved. We’ll tell her to come here.”
I just let him talk, I let him say all he has to say. I listen to him; I wait for him to finish. After a huge lecture, he’s finally spent. I heard what he said—I agreed with most of it.
But something strange happens to me once he’s done. Something that’s long overdue: I find myself. I find my voice.
I open my mouth, and I say:
“No.”
