Page 45 of Falling Princess

Apart from a headache, the worst side effect of my rum-and-Coke experience was a profound sense of embarrassment and disappointment. Upon arrival at her house, Cata fed me two slices of toast and a glass of water before sending me upstairs to sleep it off in her spare bedroom.

The next morning—it was closer to noon when I dragged myself downstairs on Sunday—Cata brushed my hair back from my face and asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” I sighed. “But I doubt you’ll stand for that.”

“You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. Why you, of all people, want to drop out of university is baffling. So yes, I do expect an explanation at some point.”

Wordlessly, I unlocked my phone and slid it across the counter. Cata spent a few minutes reading through the barrage of text messages, which I have already seen enough to get the gist of. Raina is furious with me. Kenton and Scarlett both got increasingly strident when I didn’t respond for hours, and Bashir sent me a “wtf happened, princess, everyone’s all pissy and ur not here?”

There are even a couple of messages from Lorcan, who never texts me. Why would he, when he’s never more than ten feet away?

Cata calmly passed back the phone. “Sounds like you had quite a night.”

“Did I?” Hot salt burned my eyelids. “Because from my perspective, nothing out of the ordinary happened. It was a normal Saturday night on a university campus.” I gave her the condensed version of events. “It’s only because of what I am that it’s in any way remarkable.”

Cata didn’t react much. I wish she would take my side, but she always assesses the facts before rushing to judgment. It’s what makes her a good leader. In a way, it’s reassuring. “Did you at least like the guy?”

“I can’t even remember his name,” I admitted ruefully.

She laughed. “Sounds about right. Of course, I was a lot younger than you for my first.”

“Younger than eighteen? How old were you?” Am I some kind of kissing laggard?

“I don’t know. Twelve, thirteen? Can’t recall his name to save my life. A friend of my sister’s.”

Iama kissing laggard. Cata slid a plate of cookies into the space between us. I took one and recognized the flavor after one bite. I set it down.

“These are Lorcan’s, aren’t they.”

“He came by last night. While you were asleep.”

“What?” The thought of ever seeing that man again makes me alarmed enough to consider running away, changing my name, and never going back to Auralia for as long as I live. I’ll be anonymous. Live on the streets. Anything other than being a fucking princess for one more fucking day.

“He showed up right after you went to bed. I have no idea how he got here so fast. Must’ve panicked.”

“I told Raina where I was going.” All I want is to be left alone, for Auralia’s sake. “You sent him away, right? Lorcan isn’t going to pop out of some poorly lit corner, is he?”

I scanned the kitchen with alarm.

My friend gave me a small, flat smile. “He went home. I told him you needed some space, and that we’d talk in the morning. Here’s the thing, Zosh, I need to know what your plans are before I call him. Are you really going to drop out of school?”

“That’s my intention, yes.”

“Even if it means he loses his scholarship?”

I crossed my arms. “I am not obligated to guarantee Lorcan’s educational opportunities, Cata. He seems to get by just fine in the world regardless of my decisions.”

“That he does.” Cata chuckled. “Are you sure you won’t regret giving up, though?”

That is a question I can’t answer, at least immediately. She lets it hang in the air between us for a long moment. “Think about it, Princess. In the meantime, I’ll contact your professors and tell them you need a few days off. Give it time to rest before you do anything rash.”

It’s the best offer I’m going to get. “All right. I won’t run back to Auralia with my tail tucked between my legs just yet.”

There’s still the climate conference to consider. Faint hope, but maybe I can leverage my threat to leave school to finally get official permission to attend. At least my father didn’t cancel my registration payment—though he probably will, now, as a punishment.

“Did Raina and Lorcan work things out over the break?” Cata asked, making tea, setting out lunch. Changing the subject. I love her so much.

“No. She gave him a betrothal gift. An antique Italian dagger.” Which may sound odd, but the Myseci have their own traditions around romance and battle. They’re surprisingly violent for a lot of water-loving Moon Goddess-worshipers.

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