Page 120 of Falling Princess

“We’re sitting ducks without them, though. Auralia doesn’t have a choice.”

Lorcan didn’t contradict her, which I interpret to mean he agrees with her assessment. Storm clouds gathering overhead. We’ve sought shelter without success and now we’re exposed. Him, most of all.

“We ask too much of you,” I said softly.

“Auralia has never asked of me more than I was willing to give.” He said it lightly, but his expression serious as he held my eye. “My life in service to the crown.”

CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT

Once again, we returned to life as normal students.

I threw myself back into my studies, determined to finish all of my classwork just in case something were to happen in Auralia before I could turn it all in.

I’ve always been a diligent student, but this is a heavy course load even by my standards. After missing several classes, my grades aren’t where they should be. Failing a single one means not graduating. I won’t get another chance to obtain a degree. I don’t need one, per se—my career has been set out for me, like it or not—but I hate to fail when I’m so close to achieving the one dream within my grasp.

There’s been talk of bringing me and Raina home before the end of the term. I want to stay here for a number of reasons, not the least of which is avoiding the issue of my impending wedding. Lorcan and I haven’t discussed it. We’ve been very careful not to slip up again.

Cata may know and not care, but there are Raina’s feelings to consider. She seems to have moved on—I saw one of Bashir’s friends sneaking out of her room late one night, when I was in my study working on a paper—yet there are moments when I catch her staring pensively at him.

I love her too much to want to hurt her any more than I already have. She deserved better from us.

“Did you see the message from Professor Pigeon?” Lorcan asked me one dreary afternoon. His side had turned an ugly mottled yellowish-green from armpit to waist. I was there when Raina removed the stitches. Not pretty.

“Haven’t checked email today.” I flipped the page on a printout of my essay about asexual reproduction in mushrooms. Idly, I wondered if I could pull off a stunt like that. Avoid the whole marriage thing, which I’m dreading almost as much as the war.

I wonder why my father’s so keen to make me go through with it.

“Our paper was accepted for publication.”

That got my attention.

“Really? I’d forgotten all about it.”

“The editors requested some changes, but they don’t look too bad.”

I held up my hand. He slapped it.

Bashir offered his congratulations. He was no longer allowed to bring his friends into our dormitory. The liveliness of our dorm suite has given way to a pervasive tension that has nothing to do with finals or the fucktangular love pentagram, and everything to do with us wondering whether we’ll have a home to go back to at the end of the year.

If the Skía and their pirate army invade and win, we could become stateless. I can’t begin to contemplate what a mess that would be, and we’d be thefortunateones.

One Saturday, Scarlett invited us all out to a party. Kenton, Bashir and Raina accepted immediately, but I was on the fence. Lorcan will go if I go, and vice versa, but I could tell he wasn’t interested in socializing.

There’s added stress to pretending you’re a regular university student when you’re also secretly committing murder and mayhem as an assassin.

“Come with us. Blow off some steam. You’ve been working so hard,” Raina implored. She wore a dress the color of cherry blossoms with gold jewelry instead of her usual silver. It makes her violet eyes look almost purple. I’ve never seen anyone with eyes that shade outside the Myseci; even among her people, it’s rare. She’s so pretty. I felt like a frump in comparison.

“I’m not in the right headspace.” Fashion, never my highest priority, had fallen by the wayside since the high-water mark in Paris. I was comfortably inert in my cutoff sweatpants and a ripped T-shirt. Putting on a bra seemed like it would take too much energy.

I realized this was probably related to my resurgent depression and anxiety. Is it any wonder? My country is on the cusp of war, I’m being pushed into a marriage I don’t want, and I have to keep my love for Lorcan hidden. Every tiny contact sends a wave of need through me, yet I can’t embrace him, can’t hold his hand, can barely look at him lest I betray our secret.

And there was no end in sight.

Besides, I don’t have a great history with parties. After the one last year, few people are willing to risk talking to me for fear of Lorcan intervening. Violently. I can hang out here with him and talk to just as many people as I would there, without having to pretend I’m not longing for him.

“You’re okay?” Raina asked, worriedly.

“Fine.” Always pretending to be fine, even to my closest friends. “Go ahead without me. Have fun. Give my best to Hallie and Scarlett.”

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