Page 19 of Bonds of Hate

The last thing I need is for gossip about what might have happened to me spread around the palace harem.

It isn’t every day that one of the most promising Enclave graduates rejects a prince. There is no reality in which these girls haven’t heard the story.

“Saffron,” she returns, holding out a delicate hand for me to shake. “If you forget it, I’m sure there will be an inscription on a royal portrait soon to remind you.”

“Confidence is key. I hope things work out the way you want.”

Saffron looks like she is trying to decide if the words aresincere or not. I’m a bit surprised myself when I realize they actually are.

Even if I’m not here to make friends, creating enemies would just be an unnecessary distraction.

“I suggest you just stay out of my way,” she snaps.

So much for that little moment of camaraderie.

I’m saved from responding when another girl pushes her way through the crowd and practically collapses on the lounge next to Saffron. Her face is ashen, eyes rimmed red, as if she has been crying. A rip mars the hem of her pretty blue dress. I recognize her as one of the Omegas who arrived in the Enclave town car, who has the voice like a songbird.

Saffron gives the new arrival a once-over, gaze lingering on the ripped hem. “How did it go?”

“Awful.” Blue dress scrubs at her face, smearing her artfully done makeup.

“Oh, no, Mercedes.” Saffron leans forward to touch the girl’s knees in a comforting gesture, but I don’t miss the calculation in her eyes. “Awful how, sweetie?”

“The prince…he barely let me introduce myself before he told me not to say another word because my voice sounds like an out-of-tune piano.”

“Is that all?” Saffron asks, sounding bored as she shifts back in her seat.

Perkins quickly walks past us, two attendants at her heels. Mercedes watches her pass before answering, voice pitched somewhat lower.

“Then he told me to get down on my knees. Right there, with his guards watching and everything.”

Saffron leans forward again, looking interested. “Did you do it?”

“Of coursenot!”

I don’t miss the move as Mercedes surreptitiously drags the back of her hand across her mouth. Her lipstick doesn’t smear because there isn’t any of it left on her lips.

Saffron snorts. “I guess it makes sense why he didn’t choose you, then.”

Mercedes just blinks owlishly, tears caught in the spidery black waterproof mascara on her lashes.

Clasping her hands, Saffron positions herself just like an Enclave instructor, giving the same lecture that was repeated to us a hundred times. “Alphas are still men, after all. Simple, easily manipulated and driven almost entirely by their baser urges.”

Mercedes sniffles. “They can’t all be like that.”

Drumming her manicured fingers on the wood armrest, Saffron regards the other girl with an impatient expression. “Which prince was it?”

Trying to pretend that I’m not listening backfires spectacularly because Mercedes murmurs the name too softly for me to hear.

Saffron simply shrugs. “Everyone knows he is the worst of them, though a prince that close to the crown might still be worth the effort. Don’t worry, I’m sure your next interview will go better.”

“You didn’t hear the things he said to me. And the rest of them were no better. His guards or his pack, or whatever you want to call them. It was vile. They were vile. He is an absolute sociopath!”

Saffron quickly shushes her, looking annoyed. “Gods, Mercedes, keep your voice down. If the wrong person hearsyou, you’ll be out on your ass and the rest of us guilty by association.”

“I’m sorry—” Mercedes hiccups. “I just…this isn’t like how I thought it would be.”

“You’ve already seen the worst of them. No reason to break down now.” Saffron shakes her head with a sigh, expression almost sympathetic. “Go to the bathroom and fix your face. A future princess can’t meet her prince sporting raccoon eyes.”

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