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like it burst open.” I pulled myself up, but the throb from my cheek pulsed down my body.
    “Oh, my goodness!” Bianca cried. “You can see her handprint.”
    “Piper?” I called. “Where’s Piper?”
    “Here,” she said through tears. I stood up, and she was already walking toward me.
    “Is your face all right?” I asked.
    “It hurts a little.” She ran her hand over the place where the queen had pushed her, and I could see a half-moon shape from her nail.
    “There’s a little mark, but some makeup should cover it.”
    She fell into my arms, and we held each other.
    “What got into her?” Nova asked, voicing all our thoughts.
    “Maybe she’s really protective of her family,” Skye offered.
    Cordaye huffed. “It’s not like we haven’t seen the way she drinks. I could smell it on her.”
    “She’s always so nice on TV.” Kelsa held herself, confused by the whole thing.
    “Listen,” I said, “one of us will know what it feels like to be queen. Even from the outside, the pressure looks unmanageable.” I stopped to rub my cheek. It was burning. “For now, I think we should all avoid the queen as much as possible. And let’s not mention this to Clarkson. I don’t think talking poorly about his mother, no matter what she did, would be good for any of us.”
    “We’re supposed to ignore this?” Neema asked outraged.
    I shrugged. “I can’t force you. But that’s what I’ll be doing.”
    I pulled Piper close again, and we all stood there, silent. I’d hoped maybe I’d form bonds with these girls over music we liked or learning to apply makeup. I never imagined it would be a unanimous fear that would bind us like sisters.

CHAPTER 6
    I DECIDED I WOULD NEVER ask him. If Prince Clarkson was intimate with Tia, I didn’t want to know. And if he wasn’t and I asked, it would be like breaking our trust before we even built it. More likely than not it was a rumor, no doubt started by Tia herself to intimidate the rest of us, and look where that landed her.
    These things were better off ignored.
    What I couldn’t ignore was the throbbing pain in my face. Hours after the queen struck me, my cheek was still red and pulsing with pain.
    “Time for new ice,” Emon said, giving me another wrap.
    “Thank you.” I handed her the old one.
    When I came back to my room begging for something to help with the ache, my maids asked which Selected girl had hit me, vowing they would go immediately to the prince.I’d told them several times it was none of the girls. A servant wouldn’t do it. And as far as they knew, I’d been in the Women’s Room all morning, so that only left one option.
    They didn’t ask. They knew.
    “I heard while I was fetching ice that the queen will be taking a brief vacation alone next week,” Martha said, sitting on the floor by my bed. I’d sat facing the window, my view equally split between palace wall and open sky.
    “You did?”
    She smiled. “It seems the number of visitors has taken a toll on her nerves, so the king has asked her to take some time for herself.”
    I rolled my eyes. He yells about expensive dresses, then sends her on a holiday. I wouldn’t complain, though. A week without her felt like heaven right now.
    “Does it still hurt?” she asked.
    I averted my gaze and nodded.
    “Don’t worry, miss. By the end of the day, it’ll all be gone.”
    I wanted to tell her the pain wasn’t the real problem. My true worry was that this was one sign of many that life as a princess might be challenging at best. At worst it would be horrific.
    I tallied through what I knew. The king and queen loved each other at one point, but now they worked to contain their hatred. The queen was a drunk and consumed with possessing the crown. The king, at the very least, was on the edge of a breakdown. And Clarkson . . .
    Clarkson was doing his best to come across as resigned,calm, controlled. But underneath that, his laugh was childlike. And when he broke, it was a miracle he