Page 21 of Falling Princess

I loathe him with every fiber of my being.

I fell asleep in my study, and missed dinner, too. When I awoke, Raina, Lorcan and Bashir were watching a movie. I went to my bedroom and lay in the dark, feeling pathetic and alone.

CHAPTERSEVEN

The butter tasted wrong. Not off, as in spoiled or rancid, but wrong. I smeared it onto the muffin I intended to eat anyway.

For all his other flaws, Lorcan signed up for cooking duty on Cata’s sheet, and he has proven to be unexpectedly good at it. I can’t hate him entirely, though I could do without Raina’s constant fawning.

“These are amazing, Lorcan. Delicious.”

His gaze landed briefly on me. “The food here tastes different.”

I set my muffin aside. He can read minds, which is even more off-putting than the tasteless butter.

This university isn’t what I wanted. Thislifeisn’t what I want. Part of me longs for my home country, for butter with the grassy tang that tastes like it came from an actual animal, and the flowers that feed golden bees so their honey tastes like fruit.

“Thank you for breakfast,” I said, tersely, tossing my unfinished food into the trash can. “I’ll be in my study until Cata gets here.”

It’s only a bit of butter. I’m not homesick.

Just heartsick.

* * *

After my attempted escape in Beijing, I was surprised Cata trusted me to have a mobile phone again. Then I realized Saskaya had locked down most of the functionality, and it made more sense.

You can access email, text messages, and make phone calls. Limited internet, and I’m monitoring your search history closely now, so don’t get any big ideas. Maps are disabled. If you need to know where to go, ask Lorcan to escort you.

One last function, which I cannot seem to turn off: the alarm.

Five-thirty AM. It’s dark. No one in their right mind gets up this early. I pulled the blankets over my head and dropped immediately back into sleep.

“Zosh!”

Light cracked through my doorway. Raina’s insistent voice. “Zosia, get your butt out of bed. We’re going to be late! Again!”

Right. Swim practice. My new, daily torment.

“I’ll just stay here. You two go without me.”

“Zosia Ilíana Auralian.” Raina’s back must really be up if she’s using my full name. “Your father would never forgive Lorcan if he left you here alone with Kenton and Bashir.”

Right. Sharing a dormitory with three men is only acceptable with my guard—who is, apparently, beyond reproach—present. Or Raina. Since both of them are on the swim team, I must attend, too.

After all, I agreed to it—under duress.

Ten minutes later, I was upright, wearing jeans, pink Converse, and a sweatshirt, with my teeth cursorily brushed. Lorcan held out a travel mug, which I know is filled with green tea and honey. I’m not sure how he knew I took it that way; presumably, Cata or Raina told him. I mumbledthanks.He was dressed in a light wool jacket, not looking remotely apologetic for his part in dragging me out of bed at an unseemly hour.

“Wait.” I backtracked into my study room, checked the grow lights on my freshly-planted seedlings, and grabbed a book. In the elevator, I yawned. My companions did not.

Raina hustled me into the bracing fall morning. Her dark hair was up in a bun poking out over the collar of her jacket, popped against the chill. September slipped into October unmarked by anything except an increase in my schoolwork and the deepening darkness of winter. I shivered and wished I’d thought to wear a jacket, too.

A few minutes later, I remembered why I didn’t. The pool room is too bright and too hot. Light pierced my eyes and sound stabbed me in the eardrums. “Why do you put up with this torment, anyway?”

Raina grinned. “For glory.” She waved and ducked into the women’s changing room.

Lorcan did not peel off into the men’s locker room. He set his bag on the bleachers and un-self-consciously stripped down, right there.

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