Page 66 of Fallen Star

“Victoria’s…” Sophia shrugs, taking a moment to think. “It’s not easy being here. Especially at her age.”

“What do you mean?”

“The royals—the king, queen, princesses, and princes—only want the young and beautiful. Once we age out...” She swallows hard. “There’s another place. Not like this. We call them the barns, although I’ve heard they’re more like bunkhouses. That’s where the older humans go. They keep them there for the nobles.”

Horror rises in my throat. “You’re talking about them like they’re livestock.”

“The nobles don’tkillthem,” she clarifies. “They just… share them.”

With that, Aerix’s warning rings through my mind.

If anyone so much as looks at her the wrong way, they’ll answer to me.

The royals clearly don’t like to share.

Although that apparently no longer applies when we get older and “washed up.”

“And you’re just okay with this?” I ask. “You’ve… adapted?”

“What’s the alternative?” Her smile is faint and brittle.

“Escape,” I whisper, softly enough that Victoria won’t be able to hear through the door.

I shouldn’t trust this girl so easily. But I have no one here, and this is a lot to process, and I need someone on my side. Desperately.

I’ve always thought of myself as an independent person, but I also never thought I’d have to face something likethis.

“Trying is a surefire way to get sent to the barns.” Sophia’s expression darkens. “Or killed.”

I frown, since neither of those things are on my list of things to do after being abducted to the Night Court and claimed by the dark prince who took me here.

“Maybe I can help you get ready?” she offers, in an obvious attempt to change the subject. “I know it’s a lot, but the better you look, the better chance you have of staying here. Of stayingsafe.”

“Until my expiration date.” I glance at Victoria’s door, feeling bad for her, despite her less than welcoming introduction.

But I made a resolution when I got here.

Play the game. Be smart. Be strategic.

Stay alive.

If that means putting on a pretty dress, then so be it.

“Fine,” I say before Sophia can reply to my little expiration comment. “I suppose I can use the help.”

Judging by the king’s reaction to my hairstyle, it’s true.

“Great.” Sophia smiles, relieved. “Let’s go in and see what we can do.”

Zoey

Sophia choosesa deep green gown with gold embroidery along the neckline. It complements my eyes—which are hazel, unlike her and Victoria’s brown—and she swears Aerix will love it.

It’s slightly too big, but with a few pins, we’re able to make it work.

Obviously, I wear my hair down.

Sophia won’t tell me anything about the girl who owned the dress before me, who lived in this room. And, taking the hint, I don’t push.

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