“Mayhap,” I say. But I’m thankful for them. Mr. Levine has secured a way for my father to get his medicines without me having to come into town. It will be less suspicious. Though it may put the apothecary at risk, I trust his prudence; he’ll choose a discreet messenger.
Hadley and I find a clear spot on the center fountain and take a seat on its cemented edge. The water rains down in a wide spray, sending drops onto my arms and gray tunic. I look at the darkening sky, trying to determine if the rain Mr. Levine spoke of has already come or if the fountain alone splashes me.
I watch the crowd grow around us as Hadley talks on about the prince, what life in the castle must be like, and her theories of what King Hart was like before he locked himself away in some secret lair. I bob my head along, my nerves strung tight. I shouldn’t be here.
A loud crackling rends the air.
I freeze.
“It’s only the transmission starting,” Hadley assures me. “I have to admit, I’m almost jealous of your ignorance.” She lifts her head toward the screen, shifting her eyes away from me, but not before I see the sadness in them.
I open my mouth to question her, but the screen flickers. When we were younger, after my first stolen glimpse of the public punishments, I made her swear to keep the transmissions to herself. I trusted my father’s reasons for forbidding me to watch them after that. Of course, once we were older, I could have done away with childish fears. Now, as an image appears on the screen, I know why I never abandoned our rule.
Terror grips my insides. I want to turn away, to go back to my father and take care of him, and to forget my curiosity and desire to share in Hadley’s fun. I risk so much every day hiding my father’s illness.
I want to remain ignorant.
Only the face on the screen holds me captive. It’s not the elusive King Hart, but his son.
Prince Sebastian.
His golden eyes seem to glow with the lambent of the monitor, ethereal and assured. His full lips, curved into a graceful smile, hold an air of danger—a secret only he knows.
“Isn’t he beautiful?” Hadley says longingly.
Yes, I think, but not in the way she’s obviously seeing him. He’s beautiful in the way the apple in the banned book my father read to me ages ago was beautiful to the princess. Tempting but deadly.
“Citizens of Karm,” Prince Sebastian addresses his audience. His voice is a deep baritone that booms through the square. “Thank you for joining me. I know you were looking forward to an appearance from your king, but as I’m soon to take a wife, I’m making every effort to assume more responsibilities in the kingdom, also.”
As his voice echoes off the buildings, tendrils of fear wrap around me. My memories of the thief being hanged resurface, his haunting cries replacing the prince’s speech. My brow beads with cold sweat.
My throat thickens and I swallow. I should leave. The Force is here, and I have medicines on my person that would incriminate my father. I don’t spy the knights in crimson anywhere, and that worries me more than if one of them were standing by my side.
Glancing at Hadley, whose eyes are transfixed on the prince, I begin to inch away. She doesn’t notice, and I hunker over to slip from her sight. Staying low to the ground, I maneuver through the crowd.
The prince’s voice follows me out of the square. “Let us not waste another moment. As I’ve been relentlessly searching the realm for my princess, I cannot wait.” I can almost feel the anticipation thrumming back in Town Square. Just as I pass through the gate, he says, “On the morrow, one of your own will become my betrothed, my princess, and the future queen of Karm.” He pauses. “Zara Dane. I’m honored to—”
My blood stills.
A whoosh floods my ears, snuffing the rest of his words out.
The ground beneath my slippered feet seems to shift. The well-worn tracks of the roadway come at me as I stumble forward.
My head jerks around, and I try to peer past the gate into the square, where shouting and applause and mayhem crack the silence like thunder. My pulse bangs against my veins.
My father.
TWO
The ground thunders. Hooves pound the earth. I pump my legs harder. Staying hidden in the treeline, I race through the forest to reach my home first.
I make it to the back entrance and throw open the door. My pulse jumps in my throat, and I spring past the living room to unlatch the front shutters, even though I already know what I’ll see.
The Force.
Their silver armor glints in the low afternoon light, and I imagine their cruel eyes peeking out of the visors of their helmets. Crimson banners flutter around their horses, the color spiking my blood with adrenaline. I back away from the window and race to my father’s bedroom.
“Father!”
I skid to a stop before his bed. “The Force is coming. We have to move you.”
“Nay,” he responds with a wheeze. “There’s nothing to be done for me, Zara.” His eyes, glazed and distant, beg for my obedience. He’s been preparing for this moment, readying himself for it.
But I am not ready.
“Damn,” he curses, his pretense slipping as he struggles to push himself into a sitting position. He waves his hand. “Fetch what you can and leave out the back. You can return for the rest.”
I shake my head. “I won’t let them take you.” I glance around. How will I move him if he continues to refuse to leave? I drag his limp arm around my shoulder and attempt to lift him. For all the weight he’s lost, he’s still too heavy for me to carry on my own.
“Zara…” He trails off. I hear the defeat in his tone. “A girl of sixteen can’t take care of a sick old man while on the run.” He coughs, and his graying hair gleams silver as it catches the candlelight. “I won’t have you thrown into an orphanage or married off to some cruel lord. Do as I say.”
“No,” I retort. “There is time yet.”
His eyes search my face. “There’s a loose floorboard under the bed.” He speaks so softly I can barely register his words. “Leave my ring so the Force won’t suspect anything to be missing, but take the other object. It will protect you.”
I stare into his adamant gaze and wonder if he somehow saw the prince’s announcement. If he knows that the Force are here for me.
“Father, grab it now and we’ll leave together.” No matter if they’re here for me, they’ll surely know he’s contracted the Virus when they see him. I thought we had more time, but the prince has taken that away from us. I should have been better prepared. I should have—
Thwump, thwump.
“By order of King Hart,” a knight says, his voice muffled through the oaken door, “you’re instructed to surrender your ill.”
They already know.
I look into my father’s emerald eyes—the same green as my own—and wait. I will not open that door.
I should have been more careful in the market. I knew they were watching. How long have they known? Weeks? I’ve been retrieving my father’s prescriptions for over two months, and today was not the first time I felt their eyes on me.
However long they’ve suspected, I can’t take back my blunder now. Straightening my back, I tell my father, “I can take care of you and myself. I’m seventeen on the morrow.”
“Zara.” In just that whisper of my name, my heart breaks. I latch on to him and circle my arms around his neck, drawing him close.
The front door bangs open, and footsteps echo through our tiny farmhouse.
“I love you, Father,” I murmur into his ear. Before I can say anything more, hands clamp around my arms and I’m wrenched away. “No.”