Page 41 of Falling Princess

It’s the perfect revenge, really. I bit back a smile. My one comfort is that if my grade was that abysmal, his couldn’t have been any better. He really ought to study more. Who knows what he does in his room when I’m sequestered in my study to get away from him. Wank all day, probably.

Don’t think about that.

“Interesting you should mention that. Lorcan’s grades aren’t nearly so abysmal. Clearly, sports are not the impediment here.”

WHAT.

It can’t be.

“They’re not? I thought he was failing.”

My father’s smile widened. “Not even remotely. He is such a talented young man. Amazing that he excels in so many disciplines and managed to earn two As and a B in his classes. He hasn’t had much formal education, but he clearly knows how to learn. You might consider asking him to tutor you in religion next term.”

There must be some mistake. Were our grades accidentally switched?How?

I could scarcely breathe. Spontaneous self-immolation is imminent, based on the level of white-hot rage pulsing through my body. Every soft feeling I’ve ever had toward my appointed knight—and goddess knows there haven’t been many—went up in a flashfire of anger.

Of course, he’s perfect, without even trying. All Lorcan has to do is have “a good day” and he’s rewarded with medals, accolades, high grades, and opportunities to excel wherever he turns. Because hereally is something special.

Unlike me. The princess who would be better off as a statue than a person. Boxed in, thwarted, caged, and herded into being something I don’t want to be. Must Lorcan best me at the one thing I’m supposed to be good at, too?

The indignity is simply too much. I’ll never forgive him.

It’s a good thing my iPhone doesn’t work here in Auralia. My father hasn’t issued me one of the scarce satellite phones, and even if he had, I don’t know Lorcan’s number here. There’s no way for me to blast my ire at him via text message.

I have three weeks to sort out how I’m going to handle this upon our return to Royals University—short of committing murder.

It would be justifiable homicide, for sure.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

Midway through the walk up the center aisle of the Sun Temple to deliver the Midwinter blessing, in my white ceremonial gown, I spot one royal guard who stands a bit shorter than the others.

My eyes narrowed into slits. Blood pounded in my ears. With each step closer I became more and more certain. It was definitely him. My nemesis. I’d recognize that hair anywhere, even neatly contained beneath the cap of his uniform.

Lorcan was back on duty. Fitting, considering we depart in two days to return to Scotland. Figures he’d show up again just in time to throw me off-balance before one of the most important ceremonies of the year.

Guileless blue eyes meet mine for the briefest second. I glowered at him with every ounce of bitter fury I could muster. There was the slightest widening of his eyes as though he was taken aback by my cold rage.

I lifted my chin and strode past him as though he was no more significant than any of the other royal guards who lined the aisles of the temple, protecting their sovereign.

Because ultimately, he isn’t. He’s my burden to bear, for now, but at the end of the day? He’s just a servant, like all the rest.

Predictably, I muffed a portion of the ceremony, being so out of sorts. I could get away with errors when I was eleven and twelve, but ever since I turned sixteen, the populace has been less forgiving of anything less than perfection. I’ll be hearing about the flub from the priests and priestesses, not to mention my father’s admonishments.

Until I figure out how to stop Lorcan from rattling me, one thing I will never be is perfect.

* * *

Royals University, 20km outside of Edinburgh, Scotland

For the first two weeks of the second term, I mostly hid in my room. The tension in the dormitory had been thick before the break. Now, the atmosphere was practically a solid mass one has to cut through simply to get in the door.

It’s not all my fault. Raina and Lorcan did not return to campus as a couple. I didn’t ask, and she didn’t explain.

One evening after I took my supper into my room, ate alone, and then returned my dishes to the kitchen to wash them, Raina knocked on my door.

“What is wrong with you?” she demanded. The violet of her eyes was mirrored in the smudges beneath them. Her pale skin had a faint gray cast to it.

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