Page 16 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

The building is ridiculous, made of beige marble with asymmetrical swirls and sunlight shining in through the many tall windows that line the hall.

Even the floor is marble, with a four-leafed pattern lining the middle of the path. I recognize the materials immediately, seeing as it’s the same marble we quarried in the mountain village I lived in when I was ten. Why would you use something so difficult to retrieve for something as silly as a fancy floor? All you do is walk on it.

It occurs to me that I’m stepping on someone’s wasted life.

The headmistress tells me that one of my suitemates is a Royal, and I do not make any gesture that would show her how taken aback I am by this. A girl from the septic rooming with Royalty? Instantly, I am suspicious of the headmistress. There is no way her intentions are altruistic.

I don’t believe in altruism. And even if I did, she would be at the bottom of the list.

She tells me their names; Aralia, Wendy, and Calista. I’m not ready when I reach for the door, or when it opens, or when I walk down the three marble steps that lead into the suite. It’s bigger than anywhere I’ve ever lived before, and these aren’t even the bedrooms.

I’m only in the common area. In the room, there is a couch, a table and chairs, and four doors.

A girl with short black hair dangling off the edge of the beige couch says, “I’m Aralia,” without looking up from her book.

“Desdemona,” I mumble, and the headmistress smiles and nods at me before leaving.

Another girl steps out from one of the four doors. Blonde hair, brown eyes, and a pastel-yellow dress that gives the illusion she is floating instead of walking. She looks me up and down and purses her lips.

This girl has definitely never stabbed a corenth for her supper. How am I going to pull off being poised and proper?

She places a dainty hand on her chest. “Calista.”

Standing up straighter, I say again, “Desdemona.”

“It’s very pleasant to meet your acquaintance,” her voice is soft and airy and regal. The Royal.

I hate her. She’s the reason the Nepenthe killed Marice and the twelve others. This is the girl who’s heir to a throne that ruined my people’s lives.

Her eyes fall back to my body. My chin is where her eyes land, but this feels like it’s meant to be intimidating. She’s even taller than my mom, and I still feel like a giant. Intimidation isn’t going to be her strong suit.

But her voice takes on a different tone altogether when she says, “Why did you join us so late in the year?”

“Welcome to our wonderful suite.” Aralia grabs my hand. “I’ll show you our room.”

Our room? So they have enough pence to make ornate marble floors that cost someone their life, but I can’t even get my own room. Not that I’ve ever had my own room. I’m just thinking that if the headmistress wanted me to hide, she could’ve helped out a bit.

Then I see that the room is even bigger than any one of my and Mom’s dwellings. With two big beds and three windows over the desk between them. There’s a stack of books beneath the seat and some propped on the window sill underneath a dozen pictures.

“I’ll move my belongings to this half of the closet.” Aralia begins to pull her clothes from the closet.

I look at the dresser. Papers and pictures are scattered across the surface. This would be a precious mine back home.

“A drawer will be good enough.”

“Okay.” Aralia sits on her bed. “We can get you some sheets. What’s your color?”

“My color?” I say like I’m thinking it over. I’ve never put much thought into it. “Maybe green.”

“Perfect, we’ll get you green.” She clears the dresser, moving her papers and stuffing them into drawers and notebooks. The only thing I have is the stuff the headmistress gave me. Glamour, I think she called it.

“Is there anywhere I can get food?”

“Yeah,” Aralia says with a laugh and heads to the door. “Coming?”

It’s not a very far walk to the kitchen, not that this is what’s ever constituted a kitchen for me. There’s a long, marble counter and behind it a ton of silver stuff.

I eye the line of pies left on the counter.

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