Page 115 of Falling Princess

A crackle over a loudspeaker startled us before we could get into a proper quarrel. “Please report to the lower-level banquet hall for the auction. Bidding begins in ten minutes.”

We did as instructed. The state of my panties was so embarrassing that I had to stop in the ladies’ room, lest I sit down and leave a wet spot on the chair. Cata and Raina accompanied me. I haven’t been permitted to use a public restroom without a guard in years; it didn’t occur to me to go without someone.

Whatdidoccur to me was either genius or insane.

“Raina, Cata, do you have good pictures of Auralia on your phone?”

“Landscape pictures?” Cata asks, touching up her makeup in the mirror. “Why?”

“I have an idea for publicity.”

Raina took me by the upper arms. “Before you go off and do something crazy” —fair; the last thing we need today is a princess fail— “explain to us exactly what you’re thinking.”

I quickly outlined my bolt-from-the-blue plan. My friends exchanged glances, then Raina clapped her hands.

“We can do this. We just have to get to the coordinator before the bidding starts.”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you. King Rohan is tired and wants to head back. You two can stay as long as you don’t leave Lorcan’s side, and keep Bashir and Kenton with you, too. Safety in numbers.” Glaring at us, she added, “Donotbid on anything.”

I made a face. “Kenton might not be coming back to the hotel. Alone, anyway. He’s found a couple of socialites to spend the evening with.”

“Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” Cata’s scowl deepened.

“Scarlett. It’s an open arrangement. We don’t ask too many questions because honestly, we don’t want to know the sordid details.” Raina grabbed my arm. “Come on. This will be brilliant if we can pull it off.”

Half an hour later, we are on the stage in front of two thousand extremely wealthy people from all over the world. We have already seen an actual yacht auctioned off, along with an entire island in the Mediterranean, several luxury vacations, a trip to space on a private rocket, and so much jewelry that it makes our loaner gems look like cheap costume jewelry.

My idea didn’t sound so great all of a sudden. Can’t back out now, though. The first picture, a panoramic view from the top of Mount Astra last summer when Lorcan and I were there, flashed up onto the screen.

“Tonight, we have a very special surprise offering from the Princess of Auralia and the Princess of the Myseci, an Auralian tribe,” says the announcer in French, followed by English, since this is an international group. Translations in Chinese, Russian, German, Arabic and Spanish scrolled on side screens. “Auralia has been closed to tourists for nearly five thousand years.”

Technically, this is not true. People mostly forgot we existed, and once the world remembered, we were only interesting enough to mine for meme material or mood boards on Instagram. The point is, you can’t get a tourist visa because we’ve never had a tourist office to grant one. My father might be apoplectic when he finds out what I’m doing. So be it. It’s time I assert myself.

Idohave ideas about how to present my country—as beautiful and worthy of preservation. Not a supplicant begging for weapons.

The picture changed to one of a waterfall that Lorcan snapped in the southern Oceanside district. It rivals anything you’d see in Bali. Not that I’ve been to Bali—I’ve only seen pictures in airplane magazines, so I’m not totally sure about this comparison. It’s green and lush and overlooks the ocean, and it makes the audience gasp, which was all I cared about.

“Tonight, the princesses have offered up to four tickets to visit Auralia as their personal guests for seven days and six nights.”

Deafening applause. Raina and I exchanged glances. She beamed. I grinned back. We may not have spaceships, or tanks, but we do have undisturbed natural beauty with a hint of old-world glamor. It’s a hit with these people.

The picture changed again. This time, it’s a nest of dragons, the winged lizards native to Auralia. A hushed murmur rippled through the crowd. It’s the sound of astonishment in ten different languages. My father won’t be happy that I revealed our unique lizards. I’ll deal with him later.

He never approves of me, no matter what I do. Tonight, I’m no longer seeking it.

I took the microphone to talk about our country’s unique fauna and how we have lived in harmony with the natural environment for thousands of years. I might have gone off on a tangent when I started talking about medicinal herbs, because at that point, Raina plucked the mic away. The audience laughed. I made a show of annoyance, winking at my friend so she knew I was only playing to the audience.

Raina talked through a couple more pictures, including one of River Bend (which I freely admit is much more aesthetically pleasing than the black stone castle I live in). Having thoroughly commandeered the auction presentation, we finally gave the microphone back to the announcer, a bald older gentleman in crisp black jacket and red tie.

“Who would not wish to spend a week with such charming hostesses?” he asked the crowd, in French.Qui ne souhaiterait pas passer une semaine avec des hôtesses aussi charmantes.Raina and I linked arms, fully aware that we were as much on the auction block as our country was—in the sense that access to our hospitality is very much part of the draw.

The bidding started shockingly high, and immediately went breathtakingly higher. Raina and I exchanged glances when it passed a million dollars. At three million, we squeezed hands. Our palms were damp. There’s no way this trip is worth that much money.

I suddenly realized it’s not about the value of the plane ticket and the cost of feeding and housing four wealthy people for a week.

It’s the exclusivity.

And that’s when I know how I’m going to get the money to fund our defense. Through very selective, limited tourism. My father has been blind to the opportunity because he’s so locked into the idea that we need help, he can’t see how much we have to offer the world. Auralia is not just a backwater mired in quasi-medieval economic systems. It’s a unique, thriving, egalitarian culture.

---