Chapter 16

“We may have to force Judica’s hand,” Mom says. “The more time you spend together, the sooner she’ll see what I’ve known for ages. Your many amazing qualities more than compensate for your weaknesses.”

“Wait,” I say. “What does that mean?” I know I’m not strong, but it still stings to hear my mom throw out the words “deficiencies” and “weaknesses” like everyone knows just what they are.

Mom sighs. “Right now we have guests arriving. We need to distract them long enough for their rooms to be prepared.”

I follow Mom into her throne room, but I stop ten feet from where Lyssa fell this morning, cut down by my own mother. The white marble floor is pristine, not a single speck of red, or even a hint of orange. It could’ve happened last month, or last year. Except it didn’t. It happened today.

And my best friend Lark is still locked away in a cell.

“Chancery, come and greet our guests.” Mom’s command cuts through the fog in my brain.

“Right.” Because none of them can know what evian life is really like. They’re merely the humans who serve us. The best, the brightest, and the only ones who even know we rule the world.

I make small talk with the current US President, the Prime Minister of England, and a handful of powerful senators and justices, barely stumbling over my own words at all. But when Larena, Mom’s Chamberlain, pokes her head inside the throne room to let Mom know the guest rooms are ready, I breathe a heavy sigh of relief.

“Can we free Lark now?” I whisper.

Mom shakes her head slightly. “We have more pressing business, but I haven’t forgotten. I told Frederick to put things in motion.”

I frown. “Put things in motion? How long will it take? Won’t people become suspicious?”

“Timing matters, Chancery. And right now, we must begin other things. Something we’ll work on daily.”

Mom drags me down to the family bunker where I practice setting off EMPs with her cursed ring. I guess a lead lined bunker encased in tons and tons of rock is the only place to limit the damage from my reaction to the dumb thing. It’s not exactly how I’d like to spend an afternoon, but it could be worse. I could be stuck hearing more petitions with Judica. I’m not very successful, only setting off three more over the course of more than an hour, but I do set the wall on fire. Twice.

“As your great grandmother Corlamecha always used to say,” Mom says.

I grumble. “Yeah, yeah, Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

I guess she’d know.

I reach the top of the ladder and climb out of the bunker and onto the ground. The giant banyan tree keeps the entire courtyard in front of Mom’s bedroom in the shade. I inhale deeply of the ocean breeze that whips across every inch of the small island of Ni’ihau. Being stuck hundreds of feet underground gives me new perspective on the value of fresh air. My mom presses a few buttons in a hidden keypad under a rock, and an enormous boulder rolls back into place without so much as a whir. I guess that means the iron in the walls of the bunker kept the newly-repaired electronics out here safe. Cookie and Duchess cavort around our feet, glad to see us again. Dogs aren’t allowed in the bunker.

“Time for your training as Heir to start, little dove,” my mom says.

I suppress a groan. “You haven’t thought this through, clearly. And do we need to start today, with all the repairs and leftover petitions and whatnot?” And Lyssa’s death, and my friend’s spirits sinking lower and lower in her cell?

“Melodics was fine when you had nothing but time, but cladius is much more effective for making quick progress, and we need immediate progress. I’ll be making the announcement soon, which means it’s necessary to expand your instructor pool, yes.”

“Wait,” I say, “you’re not training me anymore?”

“Actually, I’m required at a meeting with Inara and Larena right now, so for today you’ll be training with an expert in sladius.”

“Balthasar?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “He will be there, but he wants to see you in action before he begins training you himself.”

“Then who?” I ask.

“Judica.”

My jaw drops. “You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not. You two are going to have to learn to work together, and there’s no point in delaying it. I already told Balthasar you’d be by around three o’clock. Change quickly.”

I haven’t trained with Judica in almost eight years. Not since before our ninth birthday.

“Sounds like a great plan. The only way this could be worse is if you told Judica you’re making me the new Heir.” Oh crap. “Which you will have to tell her at some point.”

Mom nods. “But not today. We’ll tell her together, after my birthday.”

“Phew. Because I’d rather she not know the first time you send me into a ring with her and tell her to whack at me with a sword.”

“You’ll be fine,” Mom says.

Easy for her to say. She’s not the clownish being dropped in a tank with the biggest shark in Ni’ihau.

“Your face has gone completely white. Don’t worry. You heal fast.” Mom’s smile is mischievous. “Accept the world as it is…”

I grumble. “Or do something to change it. I know, I know. But do I really have to change it? I was fine with things before today. We need a new family motto. How about ‘be true to yourself.’ That sounds like a good one, probably because it’s so vague that no one understands what it means.”

Mom laughs. “Go.”

I wait for a moment to see whether she’ll change her mind, but when she glances my way, one eyebrow arched, I know she’s annoyed. I head to my room to change clothes and have to immediately throw open all the blinds. Repair crews clearly prioritized the guest rooms and haven’t reached mine yet.

Cookie’s lapping at her water bowl and I’m lacing up my Merrells when there’s a knock on my door. I tie the bow on my second sneaker and walk over to answer. My heart’s working fine until I open the door. Then it flutters in spite of my Herculean efforts to keep it steady.

It’s Edam, and for once, he’s alone.

I usually have to avert my eyes so he won’t notice me studying his face. Or worse, so Judica won’t notice. I live among the direct lineal descendants of Adam and Eve. All of us have nearly flawless DNA. We’re the most perfect people on Earth, and every single one of us has unblemished features, clear skin, bright eyes, shiny, curly hair, symmetrical and well-proportioned bodies. Even surrounded by sparkling gems, Edam stands out. Strong, square jaw. White blond hair that practically shines. Deep, sapphire eyes over high, prominent cheekbones and rich, dark golden skin that glows. And when he’s standing this close to me, I have to crane my neck to see his face at all. Not that staring at his perfectly sculpted chest is bad.

“Your Highness.” His intense eyes are trained on the ground.

“We’ve been over this. Please call me Chancery.” My voice emerges high and squeaky, so I clear my throat. “You spent enough years on routine guard duty, taking your turn watching me scamper all over the island. I think the ‘your highnesses’ are unnecessary.”

“Things were different then,” he says.

It has been seven years since he was assigned to watch me, but the only real change I’ve noticed, other than his rapid rise in rank, is his dating status.

“You know what? Call me whatever you want. I’d hate to cause a fight between you and your sweetheart.” I slide past him into the hall, Cookie on my heels, and slam the door shut.