There’s not a Heaven, but there is a Hell.
Karm.
Its citizens glide along every day, whether in oblivion or fear, I’m not sure. They’re as lost as the era they follow. All the while, they pretend this is paradise, forgetting the Virus that devastated the world still works in our veins. They can abide by King Hart’s rules, but I won’t allow my parents’ memory to fade while I live in this sham of a utopia.
I will remember them and talk about them. Even if it angers my soon-to-be betrothed prince. My chest constricts with resentment. His smug and conceited air during the live transmission, his act of betrothing me without so much as an introduction first—never mind his neglect of properly asking my father for my hand—only confirms my father’s theory of the royals and this kingdom. They take what they want.
Even if the prince forces me to marry him, I’ll never forgive him for taking away the little time I had left with my father. He’s not my king yet, and he’ll never rule me.
I run my hands over my tunic, shaking out the hem to better conceal the leather sheath. All weapons are banned in Karm, except for the V-Batons and arming swords the Force and army of knights carry. They’re issued so the knights can enforce Karm’s order—the laws—although it’s rare for anyone to disobey.
I recall the public hanging again. I’d slipped away from my father to explore when that thief was caught stealing bread in the market. The Force strung him up in the center of the square and transmitted it live for all citizens to witness. No judge. No jury. The Force is both. King Hart allots his authority to his superior knights—his Round Table—to punish and keep order as if they’re an extension of him.
The more years that pass, the more King Hart’s order is enforced and followed. Too many fear the Force to go against the laws now. Even I stayed in line after the first time I watched the Force nearly beat my father to death. I kept my head down and followed along. Just like the rest.
Until this moment.
I watched my mother and now my father dragged off by the Force. Saw it happen to strangers and friends alike. I shouldn’t have listened to my father. I should have hidden him away as I’d planned. If I’m going to die of the Virus, I want it to be on my own terms. Not locked away in an underground dungeon, isolated and possibly beaten for something I have no control over.
Panic hitches my breathing. I’m here, in the castle, right under their watchful eyes. What if I develop symptoms? The prince would cart me off to the Oubliette at once.
My father’s frenzied attack on the Force haunts my mind. I’m to get as far away from Castle Karm as possible. These were his last words to me. This was his wish.
I clutch the hilt of the dagger and stare down at the stone wall surrounding Court. Renewed anger and determination rise within me.
I’m going to escape.
FOUR
Knock, knock.
“Princess Zara,” Maid Madity calls through the door.
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I lift myself off the unturned coverlet. Damn. The maid rises early.
I look out the balcony doors, to the blue lines bleeding across the morning sky, like veins running through Karm’s body. Then I trudge toward the large mahogany door. She raps once more, and I fling the door open and stare into her honey-brown eyes. She’s only an inch or two shorter than me, but considering my petite stature, she can’t possibly be taller than five feet.
She’s not my ideal choice for an ally; I don’t know if she’ll report me. But she may be my only option.
“Maid Madity,” I say softly. “You must get me out of here.”
She laughs. My eyebrows shoot up. Is she mocking me? She shakes her head, her auburn curls bouncing loose from her braid. “You’re a dramatic one, m’lady,” she says. “But I suspect the prince will enjoy the challenge.” She sweeps past me with a white gown draped over her arms. “You have all day to settle in and prepare yourself for the betrothal. I’m sure by then you’ll see how foolish you’re being. You’ve been given a great privilege. I can name countless ladies who’d love to fulfill this duty.” She tsks. “There will be some jealous maidens at the ceremony this evening, no doubt.”
My shoulders slump as she lays the gown across my bed. I close the door. She thinks I’m joking. Or rather, she’s unwilling to believe anyone would not want to marry the prince. I see kindness in her eyes, however. She may be the only one stationed in the castle who will help me. “Please, Maid Madity,” I say, inflecting as much feeling into my voice as possible. “I cannot—will not—marry the prince. I beg of you, help me to—”
Her hand covers my mouth, her eyes wide. “Nay, princess. You must call me only Madity.” She nods. “Please, I insist.” There must be listening devices, I realize, and she’s stopped me from blundering into treason.
I step back, and my eyes search her serious face. She won’t help me escape; that is clear, and I have no right to ask it of her. She’d risk her very life by helping me. No. I couldn’t live with that. I need to find a way out that doesn’t compromise her.
She lifts the white gown. “The prince loves white.” Her fingers caress the satin. “He had your betrothal gown made just for you.”
Realization dawns. How long ago must someone have begun this gown to have it ready on the day after my arrival? How long have they been planning a ceremony involving me without my knowledge? How long has the Force been watching me?
Because of this betrothal, my father is in the Oubliette now.
Anger boils under my skin. “Then he can wear it,” I snap, in spite of our tapped chamber.
She frowns and drops the dress back on the coverlet. “So many other maidens, princess,” she reminds me, and steps into the bathing room.
Despite her cheeriness toward my predicament, I admit she’s probably correct in thinking my plight futile—that I should wrap myself in the elegant garment and shuffle off to marry the most sought-after man in Karm. She’s right, of course; it’s utterly futile.
Even if I somehow made it out of the castle undetected, and past the towering walls, where would I go? Not only would the farmhouse be the first place the Force would look, but I’m positive new residents have already moved in to take over the cloning procedure.
I have no home.
I stare at the white gown. Its shimmery skirt hangs over the edge of the bed. Today is my birthday, and I’m now of marrying age by Karm’s standards. Just over four weeks ago, Prince Sebastian announced his intention to find a maiden to wed. As he’s only nineteen, all assumed this was a move toward him taking the throne. A wife would mature him in the eyes of Karm.
The news had spread through the realm like wildfire. Or, how I imagine a wildfire would spread and consume if it were allowed. Every girl of age had gone into a frenzy. Hadley had talked about it nearly every day.
Not me. I watched my father wither.
The force field may imprison Karm, but Prince Sebastian has imprisoned me. I’m trapped in a prison within a prison.
After I’m dressed in a soft cream gown—much nicer than anything I’ve ever worn before—and Madity has brushed out my hair, she claps her hands together and toddles over to the com interface along the chamber wall.
“The princess is ready,” she says into the com, then turns toward me. “Sir Devlan will be here soon to escort you to breakfast with the prince.”
I nod absently, my brain steadily concocting schemes and escape scenarios.
During my shower, I noticed the glass-encased stall had a com, too. I was relieved to find there was no camera above it, like the Eye on my balcony. Afterward, I studied every inch of my chamber, looking for Eyes—the camera devices used by the Force to ensure our safety, or to spy on us, making sure we’re obedient citizens. There were none that I could find.