The Liars (30 page)

Her eyes turned to the vial of silver liquid on the desk. The hairs on her neck stood up as she heard a cold voice from
behind her speak.

“How unlucky you are…Memory.”

She’d had the wrong aunt all along.

Chapter 17

Her laugh still twinkled with innocence, but this time,
Memory could hear the anger underneath it all.

“Don’t be so surprised. Anyone with half a brain could tell you are a fake.”

How had her voice changed so much? Wasn’t it just minutes ago when she’d run into her, crying and pleading?

This wasn’t the Tsavorite she knew.

Or maybe I never knew her at all.

Memory snatched the vial from the desk and threw
it onto the ground. It smashed into smithereens.

“Poison.” Memory choked out, acutely aware of the implications.

Tsavorite scrunched her small nose, lifting her eyes to look at Memory directly.

“That was my last vial.”

“How could you?” She whispered raucously. It sounded like incoherent garble but she knew Tsavorite would understand. “Your own brother!”

She stood like a dear in the headlights. Could she call for the guards? Her eyes darted towards the opened tile that Tsavorite had just crawled out of, and then the door at the far end of the room.

Tsavorite noticed and an evil grin spread over her face.

“Don’t try running.” She threatened, and pulled her hands out from behind her back.

A gun.

Was this how betrayal felt like? Memory didn’t know whether to cry or lash out at the woman and smash her head into the table.

“You poisoned Elliot.” Memory swallowed. “YOU POISONED HIM!”

Yelling was a stretch for her lungs, and dry coughs wracked her body once more. Tsavorite pointed the gun upwards and shot. Dry plaster sprinkled onto the ground.

“The next one is you.”

Memory fell back against the desk. Her body felt like it had been turned to ice, thin fragile ice. She couldn’t feel her hands or legs. Her heart weighed on her chest, crushing her.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” Tsavorite snarled at her, twirling the gun in her hands. “What did you think palace life would be? Daisies and roses? Did you think you could come in and be a pretty little princess?”

Unable to move at all, Memory followed Tsavorite with her eyes as she swiped the pictures from her desk and shoved them into the nearest suitcase.

“Of course I would poison that stupid idiot.” She harped, and when Memory tried to squeak she was rewarded with a slap. “He tried to strengthen the gates. My
beloved
Kendall couldn’t ever be stopped with just that, but I had to make sure.”

Tsavorite pulled out a knife and traced it tenderly along Memory’s neck. She squirmed, feeling the sharp blade cut into her flesh painfully. Tears pricked at her eyes.

“The King.” She cried. “Why him?”

The knife was pulled back as Tsavorite swung her head back, laughing.

“Why him? Oh, the reasons, the reasons.” She twirled around, cackling. “Fifteen years ago, he killed my child.”

Memory was instantly reminded of Kendall’s words. “Unborn?”

“Yes. The man I thought was intelligent,” She spat, “thought it would be a good idea to confront his parents and ask for permission to marry me. His majesty found out soon enough and banished him.”

And killed your unborn child.
When Memory looked at her, Tsavorite bristled.

“Don’t look at me like that! You think the King is the victim?! That I deserved it for cheating on my husband?” She picked up the fallen tea cup from the coffee table and threw it towards her. Memory shuddered as it hit the desk and
shards of glass showered upon her, one even embedding itself into her hands.

“He married me off at nineteen.
Nineteen
! And then after the entire ordeal, he thought that imprisoning me in my own home was a good idea?” Angry, she kicked over the table.

Memory had never seen her act so wildly.

“I never saw Kendall for six years. And when I did, my dear little sister, perfect like everyone thought she was, got pregnant by the same man I used to love.”

Two sisters fighting over a guy? Not good.
Memory gulped, fearing for her life.

“And the coward forgot about me.” Tsavorite kicked the table again. “
And his majesty? The halfwit always had a soft spot for Tourmaline. Locked her up in her room, and then sent her away to give birth.” She gritted her teeth together so painfully it made Memory wince. “As if that could change anything.”

“You don’t know what it did to me.” Tsavorite cackled. “Kendall had what was coming to him. If he couldn’t decide
between me or her, then I would make him decide.”

All the things Memory hadn’t understood before made sense. She was the one that let him in through the tunnels, that asked him to steal the heirloom, that helped him escape prison and return so he could shoot Edward in the midst of the coronation–

Memory’s head burned.

“King–was–in–France.” She hissed through her cold lips. Tsavorite glanced down at her, lips contorted into a smile. Memory didn’t know how anyone could smile without warmth.

“Kendall wasn’t opposed to killing the man who banished him. The problem was, he didn’t want to go any further. But it wasn’t enough.” She started quietly, but every word echoed in the room. Her eyes darkened.

“His majesty killed me from the inside?
I simply returned the favor. The poison hadn’t finished him off as quickly as I wanted it too, but in the meantime, I wondered if I could pull off killing his two children in his absence in addition to his other two.”

She grinned maniacally. Memory’s eyes snapped to the suitcase where the pictures were held.

“Jade…Prince Quincy…”

“Horses never liked me.” The
repugnant woman lit up with glee. “They run at the sight of me. Ever since I hit Ruby on the head with a pot in front of them when I was little.”

Tsavorite was the reason why Ruby was the way she was?

“It wasn’t hard to get rid of the annoying little twit. With the upcoming nuptials, the King couldn’t tell his left from his right. It only took some convincing to have Jade wander around alone before she was snatched.” Tsavorite snapped. “Just like that. I almost thought I hadn’t succeeded when Prince Edward and Prince Cassian started looking for her. When I realized what the youngest prince was going to do, I had to keep tabs on him of course. Jade had already died. She would never come back.”

“And Prince Quincy? Oh, how lovely his skin looked in the moonlight as the methyl mercury took hold of him. But killing the eldest two sons–I had to wait until the perfect opportunity. His majesty already had his eye on me. I couldn’t simply poison them.
No, shooting them for the world to see would be much more satisfying. And having someone else do the work for me and then be arrested? It was perfect.”

The vile, revolting shell of a human being. Memory
never felt such a deep hatred, hatred that rose from the core of her soul, for a person. She couldn’t acknowledge her as Tsavorite Jackson, loving to all, anymore, even as she shouted out in a craze–

“Do you know what it does to you?! Seeing the life that was inside you in your hands, covered with blood, and thrown into a ditch?” She shrieked, hands wrapped around her midsection. “I had no choice! None!”

Memory recalled her own symptoms; the bloody coughs, the nightmares, the dizzy spells…

She poisoned me too.

The woman observed Memory, laughing evilly.

“
Yes, I am the mastermind. I do believe you recall your little…meeting with the King. I’m actually surprised the poison didn’t work as well then. Fortunately, finding another opportunity to kill him off was easy.”

Memory hugged herself, afraid that she would suddenly start convulsing.

“He’s not dead.” She replied quietly.

The woman laughed. “He’s as good as. He won’t ever see the light of day again.” She suddenly stopped, wrinkling her nose. “Actually,” She started nonchalantly, “I think the one that diluted the poison the first time around was Diana. She developed quite a liking to you, though I can’t for the life of me understand why.”

Diana? Diana!
So that’s how Tsavorite knew Princess Jade was going to return. And maybe the head maid was the one who had taken all those pictures.

She betrayed me. She betrayed the family.

“Your head maid couldn’t resist the temptation or the offer I made her.” Tsavorite taunted, and under her scrutiny, Memory felt small. Worthless.

“It has been nice talking to you.” It was nauseating watching Tsavorite tuck her gun away, and even worse was when she slapped Memory again
, a crack sounding in the air. Her head snapped back from the force of the slap.

Tsavorite grinned, thoroughly enjoying the look of utter loathing Memory sent her.

“Well, I must be off. Prince Cassian is the smart one; I don’t doubt things could have been easier without him around.” Tsavorite muttered. “Finishing Kendall’s dirty work. Good grief, the man can’t aim for the life of him. Not to mention the hours it took to convince him to stay hidden in the tunnels until we had a chance to kill Prince Edward in front of the entire world.”

It was then Memory wished she hadn’t figured out the answers at all. She should’ve just been killed.

“And maybe, if I feel like it,” She stroked a finger down Memory’s check, “I will come back to eradicate the fake.”

Memory barely fought as Tsavorite pulled out a thick rope and tied her hands to the desk.
She was already resigned to her fate.

There was nothing she could do.

Memory fell into a dark sleep. Whether it lasted mere minutes or hours, she didn’t know. All she knew was she’d woken up to bracelets of red around her wrists in addition to the one
Prince Cassian had given her.

The idiot really just should’ve believed her. At least if she’d gotten the person wrong, he still would’ve put enough security up to stop Kendall from penetrating the gates. Then this would’ve never happened.

She didn’t know what to think anymore. Diana had played her all along.

But if she thought about it, she too had played everyone. Including Elliot, who had to suffer because Tsavorite was hell–bent on revenge.

Mother, why did I have to get into this mess?

Even if she yelled, no one could hear her. Everyone was busy tending to the injured guests. And who knew if there were more traitors in the midst.

Traitors–Memory refused to use any other word. Because that’s what they were. Traitors. If she somehow made it out alive, she had no doubt Diana would be banished. Or possibly even jailed for life.

But despite it all–Memory loved her like a friend. Or possibly a nagging grandmother. She’d honestly believed Diana had wanted the best for her and wasn’t working at the palace simply because she wanted money–that she was there
because she loved the family.

How anyone could like a family like this, Memory didn’t know.

Memory would’ve hit her herself if it wasn’t for her hands being bound to the thick wooden leg of the desk. In fact, she deserved the abuse from Tsavorite for being so stupid and clueless.

Lulu.
Her eyes watered.
Where are you?

Then, like a storm, the doors of the room slammed open. Myron stepped in, surrounded by a gaggle of friends, laughing loudly.

The laughing stopped when they saw Memory.

Myron was beside himself, and his friends snickered.

“Jade?”

Memory, throat clogged with emotions,
yanked at her hands. Her supposed cousin spluttered, pointing to the fallen furniture all over the room and then to her.

“What the–”

“Hey, I was under the impression that we were going to joust.” One of his friends said, poking him. They were completely oblivious to the situation.

Myron nodded, still staring at Memory. “Yes…just let me get my lance
from my father’s bag…”

Annoyed, Memory slammed her hands against the wood, startling them.

“Untie me!” She tried to yell. Myron and his friends looked at each other questioningly, much to her chagrin.

“Wait.” A short stubby kid standing to the right of the cow–like idiot memory couldn’t believe was
Prince Cassian’s brother finally said. “Is that…the Princess?”

Memory glared at
the kid, and it was confirmation enough. The group burst into questions, and Myron silenced them with a howl.

“Er–no one was supposed to know–but they found her and then she ran away a couple weeks back.”

“Wicked.” Another one of his friends said. “I thought she would be prettier.”

Myron agreed, sneering as he addressed her. “What the heck are you doing in here anyway?”

She moaned again, kicking the desk. Her toe jammed into the wood and began pulsing painfully.

“Myron–untie me right now!” While it probably sounded like a loud roar to him, he got the hint (surprisingly) and jogged over, trying to use his stubby fingers to undo the knot Tsavorite made.