Page 26 of Royal Catch
I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Enough wallowing. I came here with a specific goal. That’s where I need to focus. I’ll stick around until I win something of value, and then I’ll take the money and run. I have to rescue Polly. That’s all that matters.
Only what if the competition is over while Gabriel is gone?
~ ~ ~
I slept terribly and drag myself down to the parlor for breakfast. I should be happy because Anna told me this morning that the queen will join us at breakfast to give us further instructions, which means the competition will continue. Or it could mean the queen is going to choose a bride in Gabriel’s absence and send the rest of us packing. I’m not sure what it means. I’m irritated, fatigued, and want to punch someone.
I get myself a cup of coffee, slather butter on toast, and slump into a seat. There are only six of us left on day three. The two princesses with backbones, Marguerite and Francesca, who I suggested as ideal matches for Gabriel, are still here. I’m insanely jealous of them both. If the competition keeps going, I just know one of them will win the ultimate prize. One of them will have what I can never have.
Today’s competition, if there is one, will be my last. I tried my best, I really did, but I can’t stay here when everything about this place reminds me ofhim.
I force down my toast and slurp my coffee, head down, stewing in silence while the princesses murmur to each other in polite conversation. After I finish, I lift my head, and one look at the pretty princesses sitting around the table sipping tea makes me think guiltily of Polly.
I exhale sharply. This is all Gabriel’s fault. If he weren’t such an irresistible temptation, I never would be in this horrible predicament. Damn you, Gabriel Rourke! I swear if I ever see you again, I will tear you—
“Gabriel!” I leap from my seat in my surprise.
He’s walking behind the queen, but I can only focus on him. His piercing blue-green eyes lock on mine for an intense moment before he continues on to the head of the table.
The queen has her sour-lemon face on. The princesses are standing and shooting me sideways looks like I did the wrong thing again. Was it calling Gabriel by his given name instead of Your Highness? Or was it something with the queen? Crap. I forgot to bow my head and curtsy to the queen.
I do a belated head bow and curtsy to her. “Good morning, Your Majesty.”
She says nothing, merely takes her seat at the head of the table. We all follow suit, except Gabriel, who remains standing.
The queen lifts a hand. “To make things interesting and to remind you of the real prize, today one of you will win a diamond necklace worthy of a queen.”
I suck in air.Yes!I catch Gabriel’s eye. One side of his mouth curls up in a small smile that warms me to my toes. Maybe he wasn’t hooking up with another woman last night. Maybe he had some charity event or royal duty to attend to. Maybe he was trying to keep the temptation of virgin Polly at bay all while arranging today’s prize specifically to help me. Maybe he’ll help me win it too. The tension drains from me, leaving me almost woozy. Maybe I’m halfway in love with him, which is stupid and wrong, but when he does amazing things like this, I can’t help myself.
The queen goes on. “To win, you must each solve a puzzle. Each puzzle is different. The first one to solve their puzzle correctly will be given the location of the prize.”
“A jigsaw puzzle, Your Majesty?” I ask.
Her lips form a disapproving slash. “All will be answered in due time.” She gestures to the servants waiting nearby. The table is quickly cleared.
We all watch as another servant steps forward with a large open basket and neatly sets a piece of paper, pencil, and notepad in front of each princess. My heart sinks. It’s not a jigsaw puzzle. I suck at brain teasers. My brain doesn’t like to be teased; it likes to be satisfied with real-world questions and answers.
“I’ll leave you to it,” the queen says and stands. Everyone immediately stands, bowing and curtsying to her. She leaves and Gabriel follows, shooting me a sympathetic look before heading out. That can’t be good.
I take my seat again. My paper says “home bias in trade puzzle” in bold at the top. My stomach drops as I read the instructions. It’s a puzzle involving the clash of economic theory and practice. Uh, hello? They didn’t cover advanced economics in beauty school. I glance over at Elizabeth’s puzzle to my right. Hers says the Backus-Smith puzzle. This was definitely the twisted queen’s idea. Gabriel would keep it easy, I think, something where he could give me an advantage and help me win. Plus he looked like he felt sorry for me having to do an economics puzzle.
I am so screwed. I casually flip through the notepad in case Gabriel left me a secret clue. Nothing. I glance around at the furrowed brows of the other princesses, hoping economics wasn’t involved in their education either.
We’re left alone to solve our puzzles with only one servant monitoring us, Albert, the old guy who unsuccessfully tried to teach the princesses how to ride bikes. The women are quiet, the only sound pencils scratching on paper. My pencil remains on the table because I don’t even know where to start.
A long time passes. I’m not sure how long, but my ass is sore from sitting on the hard wooden chair for so long, and I’m getting PTSD flashbacks to high school, my hands clammy, my nerves on edge, knowing I’m going to get a big fat red F scrawled across my empty page. The worst part is it’s not just me who failed today. I’ve failed Polly too. This was the kind of prize that would’ve made her freedom possible.
Suddenly Francesca leaps up and presents her puzzle to Albert. He gives her a small slip of paper, which she reads and then immediately runs from the room.
I leap up to follow her, and everyone else does too. Surely the queen saw this coming. There’s one prize and Francesca is leading us right to it.
Francesca glances over her shoulder at the pack of princesses at her back and picks up speed, barreling through a long hallway that leads to the courtyard. We’re at a full run now. She dashes past manicured gardens and keeps going all the way to a small children’s play area with a sandbox. She drops to her knees and starts digging with her hands. That’s how badly she wants a diamond necklace. Dignified, composed Princess Francesca is digging in the sand. Well, guess what? I want it more.
I join her, digging all around, feeling for a box. Suddenly the six of us are crammed into the sandbox in a frenzy of digging. Sand is flying everywhere, elbows jabbing for space. We’re savages, feral competitors desperate for the prize. Someone knocks into my shoulder hard, but I just keep going.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Elizabeth lift a wooden box. We turn like a well-oiled predatory machine, all of us with our eyes on that box. I dive for it in near unison with the other women, caught in a tangle of arms and legs as we battle for possession. Elizabeth is losing her grip, only one hand on the box now. Before I can grab it, Francesca pulls Elizabeth’s arm so hard she drops the box and lets out an unearthly scream like she’s being murdered.
We freeze for a moment. Elizabeth’s arm looks weird, hanging there at an odd angle. Suddenly she collapses in a dead faint from the pain.
