33. James

33

JAMES

C akes, tea, fresh fruit. I hovered over the tray, surveying it for the tenth time in as many minutes. Was it enough? Too much? I didn't want to share a meal with Princess Aramar, that seemed like too big of a gesture, but I did want to talk to her, and talking meant providing snacks. I had to be a good host, didn't I?

Ugh. There was so much unnecessary thought that had to go into this. I missed meeting Adina in the city, where we would buy whatever smelled good from the nearest street vendor and then amble along the Promenade, sharing it bite for bite as we took in the sights and talked about everything and nothing. Being with her had been so simple, so freeing.

If only I'd been honest with her. If only I'd warned her about what being with me meant. Not that I thought she would have given me up, but she could have been better prepared against what happened. She was so smart, so fast, and her little lookout was almost as skilled a thief as she was. Surely, she could have saved herself if she'd only had the correct information. At least I could have given her a fighting chance, and now...

Now you're about to sip tea with a princess like you haven't a care in the world. So much for loyalty.

It wasn't like that. It wasn't. I didn't want anything from Princess Aramar other than some conversation. One talk, and then I'd be done with her, my curiosity satisfied. I would make it clear that there was no future between us, that I wasn't about to treat her differently from any other rani who'd thrown herself at me since my father's proclamation. One talk only, and that was it.

I hoped that would be enough.

The princess arrived right at three, nodding to Ravana as she stepped past him into my sitting room. She was wearing a green and purple dress today, with deep slits along the sides that gave her greater freedom of movement than a regular dress.

She was holding herself very stiffly, though, and looked nervous. What could she possibly have to feel anxious about?

Could she feel anxious about our conversation? Whatever she had to speak to me about, it couldn't possibly be that important. We didn't know each other, after all.

"Welcome," I said, standing as she came close. She curtsied, I bowed, and that was the formalities done with. "Please, sit." I indicated the chair nearest to her, and she obediently sat down. Her silence was starting to unnerve me. "Would you care for some tea?"

"I'd love some," she said quietly. "Thank you."

I didn't feel comfortable having servants nearby while we talked, so I poured her a cup myself.

As I handed it over to her, she reached across the table to take it but spilled some of it over the top of the table as she retreated. "Oh, how clumsy of me!"

It was, actually, uncharacteristically clumsy of her. I watched her bend down and fuss over the spill, wondering if something was wrong with her.

Maybe she was drunk, or perhaps she was scared stiff for some reason, or... wait... I looked a little closer at her hands.

She was wiping up the spill but in a very particular pattern.

Was she spelling something out for me to read?

TALK NORMALLY. FIVE MINUTES.

She wanted to do what?

The whole reason I bothered to let her into my presence today was because she'd been on the verge of saying something to me yesterday that felt important. And now she wanted to play games?

I opened my mouth to ask what was going on, but her eyes caught mine, and they were so like Adina's, wary and pleading, that I had no choice but to do what she asked.

"How was the rest of your day yesterday?" I poured myself a cup of tea.

"It went very well, thank you."

"Nothing to worry about when you had to leave so fast?"

"Not at all. Simply a misunderstanding."

"I see." She sat back with a tiny cake in one hand and her tea in the other, and we continued to make banal small talk until a beep sounded from somewhere on her person.

"Oh, finally," she said with a sigh. "Five minutes was an estimate. I wasn't sure exactly how long it would take to construct a basic language model from our voices, but it looks like it was pretty accurate, huh?"

"A language model?" I leaned forward. "Are you talking about AI?" Artificial intelligence was a pet subject of mine, one that I loved to learn about even though Londabad didn't have the computing power to make AI training possible.

"I am," Princess Aramar said, her eyes shining with delight before she covered her mouth with her teacup. "The thing is, I've been blocking our conversations from being overheard."

"You..." It clicked in my head. "The audience my father wanted with you. It was to tell you to stop."

"Actually, it was Jeffry who told me to stop, but it doesn't matter who the order came through."

I begged to differ but now wasn't the time.

"The point is, I have things to say to you that I don't want anyone else to hear, and since there are listening devices everywhere in the palace, I needed to come up with a cover. I had my tech create a language model that will change what the system picks up." She smiled at me. "We'll have to stay within no more than five feet of each other for it to work right, but apart from that, we should be okay. Try to conceal your mouth whenever you can, though, so that if Jeffry gets suspicious and sends a lip-reader in to observe us, it won't do him any good."

I was stunned and, for the first time in a very long time, genuinely interested. "Would you be willing to tell me more about this technology?" I asked. "Wait, is that what you're here to offer me? Tech? For what? An alliance?"

"No!" Princess Aramar shook her head briskly. "I promise, it's not like that at all."

"Then what is it like?" I demanded. "You speak out of one side of your mouth to my parents and the other side to me, and that leads me to believe that you can't be trusted. You cozen me with fine words and try to find common ground with me, but I don't think you have anything in common with me at all, do you?" I felt my mood sour even further, curiosity giving way to a more familiar sense of bitterness. "You're just trying to play me like everyone else. Well, I'm sorry you've come all the way from Edinbai just to fail, but I won't be your fool or your patsy."

She looked offended. "That's not it at all. Would you let me explain?"

And feed me more of her lies?

I should have known there was a reason for her flaunting her Eastern tech left and right. She was either a merchant who wanted to secure a commerce deal for her city, or she wanted a military alliance and thought that getting into my head would grease the wheels of the palace and get her what she wanted.

Hell. She'd almost had me fooled that she wanted to befriend me. But she was just one more manipulator.

I pushed to my feet, probably wreaking havoc on her language model, but whatever. I was done talking with her anyway. "You know what? I don't care what you have to say. I want you out of here."

"I'm not from Edinbai!"

Her frantic claim was enough to put a pause on my exit momentum. "What?"

Was she a spy? But what spy worth their salt would just out and discard her cover?

"I'm not from there," she repeated quietly, probably worried about the language model no longer functioning.

"You'd better explain, and quickly," I said, sitting grimly down in my seat again.

She sighed. "I'm not who I convinced everyone to believe I am, but I can't just reveal my real identity and expect you to believe me right away. Taking off my disguise would have helped, but I can't take it down because I don't have a model that can mimic our bodies yet." She looked about in desperation before her gaze fell on the food tray. She gave a little half laugh. "Oh, thank the storm."

The woman was not right in the head, I realized, some of my ire evaporating. She wasn't trying to play me intentionally. She was just confused, the poor soul.

"What now?" I watched her reach down and slowly, carefully, pick up one of the two peachles I'd had brought in for me from the city market.

The palace didn't grow them, but I'd developed a taste for them with Adina. They were among the few indulgences I allowed myself, to remember better times.

"I hope you didn't touch this before you bought it," she said, lifting it to her mouth. She bit, and a bead of juice rolled down her chin before she caught it with the back of her hand. "Although if there's a price to be paid in blood, I'll pay it gladly."

She met my eyes, and my mind... blanked. Everything I was thinking, every caustic thought and burning doubt, was extinguished into nothing but empty space. I was being confronted with a lie so perfect that I couldn't understand how it even existed.

No one knew about that conversation. No one but Adina, me, and the fruit seller, and he had no reason to remember us. So how did Princess Aramar...

How was it possible that she...

Her eyes. Her eyes were Adina's eyes, the same shade if a slightly different shape. Was it possible? Had she had some sort of surgery, or was this some sort of technology I didn't know existed? Had I genuinely lost my mind?

"Jack." She said my Londabad name, said it the way only her voice could, and I knew.

This was real.

She was real.

There was only one thing left I could do at this point.