The Liars (31 page)

Two of his friends joined him after a few minutes, and Memory was finally free, her wrists bruised beyond belief. She moved to stand, but Myron stopped her.

“Hold up. What’s going on?”

“Your mother’s a sociopath.” She muttered under her breath, and then looked up to smile ruefully.

“Thanks.”

Myron narrowed his eyes. “You sound like a dying whale.”

She ignored him, using the desk to stand up. Her legs ached, stiff from remaining in the same position for so long.

“What are you doing here, anyway?”

He really just couldn’t shut up, could he? But at least he helped her, right?

Memory held her throat, taking deep breaths and speaking slowly.

“Where are my brothers?” She enunciated every word, and despite her growling, Myron understood.

“Prince Edward’s in his room. He couldn’t even a dodge a bullet.” Myron puffed up. “They should’ve made
me
king.”

Memory blanched. “And
Prince Cassian?”

“I just saw him enter the ball room.”
One of his friends volunteered. “He was clearing every one out. All the guests left.”

Horrified,
Memory lunged forward, dashing towards one of the suitcases. Once she got what she wanted, Myron and his friends chased her out.

Tripping and falling along the way, Memory was forced to ask Myron for help, and he–somehow–dragged her to the Main Wing in a record time.

His friend was right. There were only a few maids in the gigantic room, sweeping the floors. There were officers in the halls, and guards crawling the grounds, but the ballroom itself was basically empty.

It was trouble in the making.

Memory shook. What if
Prince Cassian had already been shot and his body was rotting somewhere in the tunnels? What if–

“Princess Jade!” Chrysander jogged up to her, eyebrows furrowed in worry. “I heard that you had returned. It is not safe right now, please, return to your room.”

“No,” Memory breathed, “I need to see Prince Cassian.”

“He is busy with the investigation.” Chrysander gestured to the drawing room across the hall, where Memory assumed officials were gathered to clean up the events of that morning.

Memory moved to cross the hall but Myron pulled her back.

“Didn’t you hear him? You can’t–”

“You don’t understand!” She screeched. “Where’s Tsavorite? She–”

Chrysander tilted his head. “Are you sick, Princess? Where is Diana? Myron, call for Diana!”

“Do I look like a butler to you?”

“Yes, but please, go–”

The two began to bicker, and hands sweating, Memory escaped Myron’s grip maneuvering around his group of friends.

It only got worse when Tsavorite appeared.

“Oh, dear!” She exclaimed. “Princess, I was looking for you. You need to rest.”

Memory snarled at her. “You monster! Chrysander–” She turned, trying to find the man, but Tsavorite gripped her arm, digging her nails into her flesh.

“Princess Jade.” She grinned widely, revealing her set of perfectly white teeth. “We need to go.”

“NO! NO!” Memory jumped, knocking the woman to her ground. She fumbled around, trying to find the gun, while screeching.

“HELP ME!”

There were gasps as Tsavorite rolled over, pinning her to the ground. She gasped dramatically.

“Princess–”

“Tell them what you’ve done!” Memory pointed to the crowd forming. “You killed him! You killed Prince Quincy and poisoned the King!”

“Why I would never–”

Tsavorite was pried away by Chrysander, who tried to calm the situation down.

“Princess Jade–”

“Check her room!” She cried, her lungs shriveling. “There’s poison!”

Appalled, Tsavorite stepped back, clinging to Chrysander.

“We need to get help.”
She said. Her voice sounded sickeningly sweet.

“No, Uncle, listen to me–” She couldn’t be heard through her tears.

“Princess Jade.” Chrysander leveled his gaze at her knowingly. “This is an accusation of treason.”

The doors of the drawing room bust open as
Prince Cassian walked out, furious. His hair cackled with electricity. Officials followed behind him, and when he took one look at Memory, his anger suddenly rising from enraged to positively livid.

If looks could kill, Memory would be a puddle by now.
She tried to attack Tsavorite again but Myron was at her side, pulling her away.

Prince Cassian
walked towards them in long strides, stopping to stare at Memory. “Princess Jade. If you do not stop these foolish accusations, I will be forced to–”

A loud sob escaped Memory’s lips. “Why won’t you believe me?”

His lips twisted into a frown as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Princess–”

“Why won’t you believe me?!” She repeated, louder.  Rage fueled her words as she pointed at Tsavorite. “ASK HER! ASK HER WHY KENDALL BANKS MANAGED TO CREEP INTO THE CORONATION!” If she yelled anymore, she would lose her voice.

His only response was to call for the guards. “Leave.” He ordered vehemently. Memory shook her head, red dotting her vision.

“ASK HER WHY SHE WAS THERE WHEN THE KING FAINTED! OR WHY
I DISAPPEARED WHEN I WAS ELEVEN!” Memory grabbed her head and shook wildly. “SHE HATES YOU ALL! SHE WANTS YOU ALL DEAD!”

Her hands, which had been restrained by Myron and his merry gang, finally wrenched free. They reached into her back pocket and mere moments later, a flurry of pictures were thrown into the air.
Prince Cassian stepped back as they fell onto the ground.

He reached for the closest one. His hands began to
tremble. Pin–drop silence echoed in the room.

He slowly lifted the picture to reveal a tiny girl with bright blue eyes and brown hair, sitting in the back of a van with ropes coiled around her.

Memory’s heavy breathing broke the silence. Myron stepped away like she burned.

“Is that…”

Everyone’s attention was turned towards Tsavorite when a raging shrill erupted from her.

“Shrew!” She shouted. “Vixen! She’s lying–”

“Mother.” Myron started slowly, backing away. “Put the gun down.”

Howling, Tsavorite
’s fist went flying into Chrysander’s gut. He doubled over, crumpling to the ground, and Memory barely dodged her next swing.

“All of you!” She raged, pointing her gun in random directions, “You ruined me! You ruined me!”

Myron dove into the crowd, and Memory sincerely hoped her was calling for help. She tried to help Chrysander up but felt a fist ram into her jaw, her teeth scraping her tongue painfully.

She spit out blood, spraying the shiny floor with red. It was when
Prince Cassian tried to run, screaming for the guards, when Tsavorite beat him and pointed her weapon at him.

Her hands shook. “
Like father, like son.”

There were no ways to describe his expression. Memory’s chest swelled with agony, convulsing as she crawled towards Tsavorite, crying for her to stop.

Prince Cassian, terrified, made a move to leave through the halls on the adjacent side of the ballroom. But the moment he did, Tsavorite moved to press the trigger. Behind her, three officers burst in, yanking her away just as the sound of a gunshot resounded in Memory’s ear.

The bullet hit the chandelier above.

“CASSIAN!” She scrambled towards him, feet slipping on the marble floor and hands numb with pain. Her shoulder slammed into him, and the two slid across the floor.

The chandelier hit the ground with
deafening sound. Thousands of tiny little crystals sprayed into the air and pattered onto the floor like rain–drops.

Tsavorite’s last wails
faded as she was taken away.

Her gun lay on the ground, and Memory dug her face deeper into
Prince Cassian’s shoulder.

“You should have trusted me.” She muttered.

There was no response.

Memory found Lulu crouching next to one of the benches in Central Park. It was fairly crowded, but her hair was easy to spot.

“Memory!” She cried, launching herself at her. “Are you okay? What happened? I–”

She stopped when Memory collapsed onto her shoulder, inhaling deeply. Lulu patted her back awkwardly.

“Let’s go.”

Her sister helped her into a cab, and an excruciating ten minutes later, Memory was on her bed, snoring away. She didn’t notice as Lulu pulled the covers over her and turned off the lights, wishing her good night.

When she woke up, Lulu was flailing her arms about, hissing at her.

Rubbing her eyes groggily, Memory sat up, yawning. Lulu still made weird faces at her, pointing to the door. Memory wondered if the events of the previous day had gotten to her head and got out of bed, only to see
Prince Cassian standing at the door.

Memory looked down at her Mickey Mouse shorts–and swiftly pulled the covers over her body, motioning for Lulu to close the door.

“Why is he here?!” She seethed and Lulu jumped up and down once the door shut.
My voice is better.

“How should I know? He’s asking for you!”

“Great. Just bloody great.” Memory pulled a pair of sweatpants on and swung the door open, knowing she looked absolutely ridiculous, but she couldn’t find herself to care.

What she did care about, though, was an apology.

“Your sister does not look like you.” He started, and Memory barely managed a smile as Lulu tried to listen in. She turned around and asked her sister to leave them alone. She pouted but retreated into the bathroom.

“Yeah.” Memory cleared her throat.

He looked even worse than before.  His crown was nowhere in sight, and the clothes he wore were too loose for his body.

Memory felt bad for him, and that was an understatement.

“You still have the bracelet.” He noted. Memory again cleared her throat.

“Are you…alright?” She still sounded raspy, but it was definitely an improvement from the day before.

“Yes, I am–”

“I mean actually.”

“No.” He amended. “I am not.”

“Oh.”

He bowed his head. “I am indebted to you. I…”

Memory chuckled. “It’s not that hard to say ‘I’m sorry’. And I’m sorry too. I don’t actually hate you. Well, not that much.”

His lips curved into a small smile.

“Would you like to run away?”

Memory choked on her spit. “W–what?”

“The Caribbean is a nice place. Or perhaps the snow of Alaska suits you better?”

“You can’t be serious.” She quipped, knowing he was joking. As expected, a wide grin spread across his scarred face.

“I am.”

“Shut it.”

They enjoyed the bantering for a few minutes, sinking into a familiar routine that Memory found she missed too much, but
Prince Cassian finally let the smile drop.

“The palace is in ruins.”

“I bet.”

He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. “I am unable to fix anything
without you. I need you there.”

Oh, so that’s what he wanted. So she was suddenly needed again?

“I’m sorry. But my sister needs me here.” Memory gripped the doorknob tightly, moving to shut the door, but he stopped her with his next words.

“I want you there.”

Does that make a difference?

“You will be pursued for days. You will never get a break. This lie cannot be broken, not now.”
Prince Cassian took her hand in his to stop her from pulling away.

Memory looked at him. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to find a reason why her thoughts gravitated towards him so much.

Perhaps she loved him.

“Lulu, can I talk to you for a minute?” Memory asked. She opened the door to find her sister sitting on her bed with a bowl of food, noodles hanging out of her mouth.

Ever since they’d returned from Sugrove, her sister had developed a massive appetite. Even more so than Memory’s, which was a feat in itself.

“Hm?” Lulu said, looking up. She slurped up the rest of the noodles and put her bowl away. “What’s up?

“I thought I told you not to eat in your room?”

“Yes, mom.” Lulu jumped up, handing her the bowl. “Could you do the dishes tonight? I have a lot of homework–”

“I’m leaving.”

Lulu dropped the bowl. Thankfully, it was plastic, and simply rolled around until it came to a stop. 

“Again?”

Memory, wanting to be honest with her sister, sat her down and looked at her with a vacant expression.