And there I go again, biting my tongue too late. But there’s something about this prince that makes me reckless, makes me want to tell him exactly what is wrong with everything he thinks he believes.
“Tragedy,” he echoes, his voice even. “You mean the Purging.”
“Yes, the Purging,” I breathe. “The banishment of thousands of people and the continuous killing of them that follows.” I’m practically spewing treason, but I can’t seem to stop now that I’ve started. “Those are your people, Kitt. Innocent people who are still being killed today because of something they have no control over.”
He stares at me while I stare at his collar, avoiding his gaze. “The Purging needed to be done, Paedyn. You know that.”
His voice is gentle while mine is anything but. “Why, because the Ordinaries are diseased? Supposedly weakening the Elites’ powers? Even though they lived alongside the Elites for decades?”
He blinks. “You think they’re not diseased?”
I am playing a very dangerous game.
I clamp my mouth shut, knowing I’ve said too much. To answer that question truthfully is a risk even I’m not willing to take, so I take a breath before hurrying to change the topic. “I just think that as the future king, there are a lot of things you need to think about.”
I don’t look at him, but I can feel his eyes on me. “And you’re going to enlighten me about those things? Enlighten me about my own kingdom?”
Play the part. Play the part. Play the—
I bark out a bitter laugh. “Don’t be an ass and don’t pretend you know your kingdom! Have you seen the slums? Seen the segregation, the starving citizens? Your starving citizens.”
So much for playing the part.
I throw my hands up, shaking my head at the flowerbeds. “Would you even listen to me if I tried to enlighten you, tried to tell you to make a change?” He stands there, silent and still. So I ask again, voice urgent. “Well? Will you listen to me?”
His hands are suddenly cupping my face and guiding it towards him as I fight the urge to flinch. “If I listen to you, will you look at me?”
My breath catches in my throat.
“Look at me, Paedyn. Please.”
And it’s the softness, the pleading in his voice that has me taking a breath and shutting my eyes for a moment. When I finally open them again, I see so much compassion and concern filling his green gaze. And for the first time, I allow myself to study those eyes. Because they have never looked less like the kings. The warmth in them washes over me, overwhelms me.
“All this time,” he says quietly, “I’ve been searching for a gaze you wouldn’t give me, waiting for you to want to look me in the eyes.” He pauses to take a breath. “Why do you avoid my gaze, avoid me?”
So, clearly, I’ve done a terrible job at playing the part.
“You...” I swallow. “You reminded me of someone from my...past. But the more I get to know you, the more different the two of you seem.”
I study him for a moment, surprised by my honesty. The king and his heir may look similar, but in this moment, they’ve never seemed less alike.
He smiles softly at me. “Does that mean you’ll start looking me in the eyes?”
“Only if you start listening to me,” I reply with a small smile of my own.
“Deal,” he says simply before we slowly begin to head down the path once again. “I have another question for you.”
I almost laugh. “And I likely have an answer for you.”
He smiles before his face is suddenly serious, and he tucks his hands behind his back as we walk. “In the Trial, Ace made you...see me. And at the sight of me dead, you seemed...” He shakes his head, searching for the right word. I’m reminded of how he watched that scene play out on the screen in the Bowl, saw the look on my face upon seeing him, heard the scream that tore from my throat.
“Upset?” I say weakly. “Terrified, even?” For once, I look at him until he meets my gaze. “When I saw you dead, I guess I suddenly saw all the potential you have die with you. All the potential to be a better king for Ilya, to make changes, to rule how you should and not how you are told.”
We’ve finally made it to the center of the garden where we stop beside the fountain. Now that I’m finally willing to look at him, Kitt’s eyes don’t seem to want to leave mine. “Thank you,” he says with a smile. “I know I can always count on that brutal honesty of yours. You’re the first real person I’ve had the pleasure of knowing in a while.”
I almost laugh at that.
If only he knew. I’m a liar and a deceiver who used him as my partner so I could get the people’s attention. I stand before him as an Ordinary, one he would have killed if only he knew the truth, and I would die by the hand of his future Enforcer I’m too stubborn to admit my attraction to. And in the end, it wouldn’t matter how real he thought I was.
But I offer him what I hope is a sweet smile before turning to face the beautiful fountain that is so large, I now understand why the princes couldn’t fight the urge to swim in it. I lean over the edge, peering into the crystal water reflecting my face back up at me.
Shillings.
There had to be hundreds of them, just casually lying at the bottom of the pool. I recall how I felt on my first night here after seeing all the wasted food. I feel sick. So much money lying idly. And for what? So the rich could make their petty wishes?
I gulp down my disgust.
Play the part.
“Alright, what is it?” Kitt asks with more than a hint of humor.
“Hmm? Nothing.” I pause and peer up at him. “What do you mean?”
He laughs deeply. “You are fighting the urge to tell me off, aren’t you?”
I blink at him before sputtering, “How do you—?”
“You do this thing where you scrunch up your nose before you start arguing. It’s a dead giveaway.”
I open my mouth, and for once, no words seem willing to fall out. He smiles as he watches me struggle before I finally clear my throat and say, “Fine. The reason for me scrunching my nose,” I throw him an annoyed glance I likely shouldn’t have, “is because of all the shillings.”
When I don’t say anything more, Kitt urges, “Go on.”
“Well, money like this could feed dozens of Ilyans in the slums for weeks, months even,” I say evenly. “And yet, here it sits, wasting away for people’s wishes.”
Kitt’s eyes flick to the fountain, and he frowns. “You’re right. I’ll see about having it removed and distributed.”
My heart leaps against my chest. “Really?”
His frown flips into a wide grin. “We made a deal, remember? You keep looking at me, and I’ll keep listening to you.”
I almost snort before turning back to the fountain. I remind myself that this small victory with the shillings could mean nothing. In fact, removing and distributing them in the slums may never happen. But he’s listening, and that is progress. It’s potential.
I bring my face close to the surface, trying to see through the ripples to the shillings beneath.
“How much money do you think is down th—”
My words are cut off by the cold water that rises from the pool to meet my face, splashing me lightly. I straighten and whirl to find Kitt laughing, his hand slightly raised at his side.