Page 6 of Falling Princess

Kenton. I summoned a smile and complained, “There won’t be a next time. Beijing was my one shot.”

“Once we get to Scotland, Your Highness, you’ll be able to roam the campus at will.”

“In theory.” I felt my face sag with the disappointment and worry now churning in my stomach. “If this doesn’t make my father cancel my year abroad as punishment.”

“He won’t.”

I arched one eyebrow at Kenton’s confidence. He was the other winner that day at the Colosseum, where my father held games in honor of my seventeenth birthday to select our Olympic competitors. Lorcan swept the competitions, to my consternation. Raina was delighted. I, far less so. Given Kenton’s mother’s standing amongst the nobility and the paucity of acceptable beau for a princess, there’s a very good chance that in a couple of years, he and I will find ourselves married. It’s not that I mind—he’s handsome, with thick dark curls and blunt features—but he isn’t my choice.

If I had my choice, I would study abroad forever. Never come home. Not even at Midwinter.

I am not permitted to make choices about my life.

The list of things I’m not permitted to do is very, very long.

I wonder what choice Iwouldmake, if I were granted the opportunity to discover my own preferences instead of always being presented with a narrow range of predetermined selections.

Frustration fractured within my chest like breaking glass.

I want to be young and dance wildly through the night. I want to fall in and out of love, have meaningless sex with no thought to legacies and the future. I want to find out who I am and what I’m made of before I settle into my predestined role as the living symbol of a long-dead goddess—who probably never existed in the first place.

I feel like I’m nothing but a body to produce another body. When I marry, my daughter will be just one more link in a chain of misery stretching back five thousand years.

Ordinarily, it’s expected for future queens to explore a bit before settling down. (Except me; my father has made it abundantly clear that I am “not to get mixed up with anyone unsuitable” while I’m away at university.) I wouldn’t mind letting my father rule in my stead for as long as it takes for me to complete my education, were it not for the Skía and their pirates, organizing against us.

My desire not to be a princess is a distinct possibility, but not in an acceptable manner. I don’t wish for my country to be overrun and its natural resources to be ruthlessly exploited. It’s bad enough that we must prepare for a changing climate that we did little to perpetuate; I want Auralia’s uniqueness to be preserved and studied, not destroyed for profit.

I also just plain don’t want to be queen, much less High Priestess.

There’s no point in dwelling upon it. This is who and what I am. All I will ever be.

“The attack probably wasn’t even Skía,” I grumbled, knowing I could count on Kenton to be a sounding board for my sulkiness. “Other nations have terrorists, too.”

“Exactly. Not that it matters. Dead is dead.” He shrugs. “It was too close a call. I’m glad you’re still alive, Princess.”

I don’t know what to say to that. I suppose I am, too. There are too many things I want to learn, to experience. You can’t study science from the grave—although Saskaya might find a way to make it happen. I smiled faintly at the thought of being reunited with Cata’s older sister. That’s one good thing about heading home. The only one, if I’m being honest.

Saskaya and Cata were my tutors, growing up. Cata taught me languages, history, and literature. Sas taught me mathematics and science. My aptitude tended toward the latter, with the exception of a talent for language acquisition. I’ve perfected my English and French, with fluency in German and Spanish. I was working on Mandarin but didn’t get very far before we left.

“I suppose that means I have to thank Lorcan, don’t I.”

Kenton laughed. “I see no rush. Your father will make you do it. Probably publicly.”

I groaned. “Great golden goddesses, this will be mortifying.” I tipped my face up and batted my eyes at him. “At least I have you, my friend.”

“That you do, Princess.” He grinned.

Together, we glanced at the partition that separated this section of the cabin from the one ahead. It’s a plastic wall covered with fabric, essentially. No door. On the other side are four rows of seats, two on each side, marching toward the front of the aircraft. Raina and Lorcan’s heads were bent together, just visible from our angle.

“They should fuck and get it over with,” he whispered conspiratorially, in English.

I giggled, delighted by his use of a filthy, foreign word I don’t dare to utter myself. Everyone else is so careful in my presence. Kenton is the opposite.

“She hasn’t even kissed him, yet,” I confided.

“No.” Aghast, he peered at them. “Why not? Hasn’t it been years?”

I nod. “More than a year since she said she was going to marry him.”

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