فصل 19

19

I Have a Prince

The faculty of the School for Good and Evil had seen many things over the years.

They had seen students pathetic in the first year end richer than kings. They had seen Class Captains flame out by the third year and end as pigeons or wasps. They had seen pranks, protests, and raids, kisses, vows, and impromptu love songs.

But they had never ever seen an Ever and a Never hold hands in the lunch line.

“Are you sure I won’t get in trouble?” said Sophie, noticing them glaring from balconies.

“If you’re good enough for me, you’re good enough for a basket,” said Tedros, pulling her forward.

“I suppose they should get used to it,” Sophie sighed. “I don’t want any trouble at the Ball.” Tedros’ hand stiffened on hers. Sophie turned bright red.

“Oh . . . After last night, I just assumed . . .” “The Everboys took an oath we wouldn’t propose before the Circus of Talents,” Tedros said, tugging at his collar. “Espada said it’s tradition to wait until the Circus Crowning, the night before the Ball.” “The night before!” Sophie choked. “But how do we match colors and plan our entrance and—” “This is why we make the oath.” Tedros took his wicker basket of lamb sandwiches, saffron couscous, and almond mousse from a green-haired nymph. “And one for the lady as well.” The nymph ignored Sophie and held out a basket to the next Ever. Tedros seized the handle.

“I said one for the lady.”

The nymph tightened its grip on the basket.

“Lamb is hard to digest anyway,” Sophie fretted— But the prince held on until the nymph surrendered the basket with a grunt. Tedros handed it to Sophie. “Like you said, they better get used to it.” Her eyes widened. “You’ll . . . take me?”

“You’re so beautiful when you want something.” Sophie touched him. “Promise me,” she said, breathless. “Promise me you’ll take me to the Ball.” Tedros looked down at her soft hands, holding the laces of his shirt.

“All right,” he exhaled finally. “I promise. But tell anyone and I’ll put a snake in your corsage.” With a squeal, Sophie threw herself into his arms. She could plan her gown after all.

With that, the 1 Ever and 1 Never, storybook enemies in body and soul, sat hand in hand under a towering oak. Tedros suddenly noticed all the Evers glaring at him, stunned by his disloyalty. Sophie saw Nevers, who she had preached to for weeks about Villain Pride, glower at her, betrayed.

Tensing, she and Tedros bit into sandwiches at the same time.

“Is the witch still contagious?” Tedros said quickly. “It’s her first day back in class.” Sophie glanced at Agatha, hunched against a tree, staring right at her.

“Um, we don’t really talk.”

“Leech, isn’t she? Thinks she’s brains to your beauty. Little did she know you have everything.” Sophie swallowed. “It’s true.”

“One thing’s for sure. Won’t be picking that witch in a challenge again.” “How do you know that?”

“Because now that I found my princess, I won’t let her go,” said her prince, gazing into her eyes.

Sophie suddenly felt sad. “Even if it means waiting a lifetime for a kiss?” she said, almost to herself.

“Even if it means waiting a lifetime for a kiss.” Tedros answered, taking her hand. Then he cocked his head. “I’m assuming this is a hypothetical question.” Sophie laughed and buried her head in his shoulder in time to hide the tears. She’d explain one day. When their love was strong enough.

On the balconies of the two schools, the faculty watched the lovebirds nuzzle in the sun. The Good and Evil teachers gave each other dark looks and went back to their chambers.

Sitting in chilly shade, Agatha didn’t make any sudden moves either. Like the teachers, she knew this romance was doomed. Something was in their way. Something Sophie had forgotten.

Something called Trial by Tale.

“To win a Trial by Tale is one of the greatest honors at the School for Good and Evil,” Pollux declared, head back next to Castor’s on their massive dog’s body. With the fifteen Forest Group leaders behind him, Pollux peered down at the students, gathered after breakfast in the Theater of Tales.

“Once a year, we send our best Evers or Nevers into the Blue Forest for a night to see who lasts until morning. To win, a student must survive both the School Master’s death traps and the other side’s attacks. The last Ever or Never standing at dawn is declared the winner and given five additional first-place ranks.” Pollux raised his nose snootily. “As you know, Good has won the past two hundred Trials—” Good burst into a chant of “EVERS RULE! EVERS RULE! EVERS—” “ARE STUPID, ARROGANT FOOLS!” Castor boomed, and the Evers shut up.

“Now a week from today, each Forest Group will send its top Ever and Never into the Trial,” Pollux sniffed. “But before we announce the competitors, let us briefly review the rules.” “Heard Beatrix took first in Good Deeds yesterday,” Chaddick whispered to Tedros. “That Nevergirl turning you soft?” “You try mending a dove wing with my strength,” Tedros retorted. Then his face softened. “Do the boys really hate me?” “Can’t be messing with a Never, mate,” Chaddick said, gray eyes stern. “Even if she is the fairest, smartest, most talented girl in school.” Doubts sank Tedros into his seat. . . . He bolted upright.

“I can prove she’s Good! I can prove it in the Trial!” “Beatrix or Agatha might have your group’s spot,” Chaddick said.

Tedros’ chest tightened. He caught Sophie beaming at him from the Evil pews. Their future together depended on him making the Trial. How could he fail her?

“According to the rules, there can be more than one winner of a Trial by Tale,” said Pollux. “However, those who last until dawn must split the first-place ranks. Thus, it is in your interest to eliminate your competition. Naturally the School Master prefers a single winner and will conjure as many obstacles as he can to ensure it.

“For the rest of the week, all classes will be dedicated to preparing these 15 Evers and 15 Nevers for their night in the Blue Forest,” the dog continued, as students twittered over who these would be. “In-class challenges will be restricted to these competitors only. Those with the worst scores for the week will enter the Trial first, while those with the best will enter significantly later. This is, of course, a tremendous advantage. The less time you spend in a Trial by Tale, the more chance you come out alive.” Students stopped talking.

Pollux realized what he said and forced a laugh.

“It’s a figure of speech. No student dies in a Trial. How ludicrous.” Castor coughed. “But what about—”

“The competition is completely safe,” Pollux said, smiling down at the children. “You will each have a flag of surrender. If you find yourself in mortal danger, drop it to the ground and you will be rescued unharmed from the Blue Forest. You will learn more about the rules in your various classes, but now I cede the floor to the Forest Group leaders, who will announce this season’s Trial competitors.” A tiny lily nymph in a dress of emerald vines stepped forward. “From Group 9, Reena will represent Good and Vex will represent Evil!” Reena curtsied to Ever cheers while Nevers grumbled that Vex and his pointy ears were lucky to be in a weak group.

An ogre announced Tristan and one-eyed Arachne from Group 7, followed by more leaders who named dark-skinned Nicholas and Anadil from 4, Kiko and green-hued Mona from 12, Giselle and Hester from 6 . . .

Sophie goggled at Tedros through it all, daydreaming of life as his queen. (Would Camelot have enough closets? Mirrors? Cucumbers?) Then Yuba stepped forward. Sophie looked over at Tedros and Beatrix, both hanging on the gnome’s next words. Please let him beat that sour cream puff, she prayed— “From Group 3, Tedros will represent Good,” Yuba said.

She exhaled in relief.

“And Sophie will represent Evil.”

Sophie massaged her ears. She’d heard wrong surely. Then she saw the smirks.

“Suppose that’s the problem with dating a villain,” Chaddick said. “It’s all love and kisses until you have to kill them.” Tedros ignored him and focused on his plan to prove Sophie Good. Thank God his father was dead, he thought, sweating through his shirt. What he was about to do would have stopped his heart.

As Evers left through the west doors, Nevers through the east to trek back to Evil, Sophie remained shell-shocked on a blackened pew. A shadow moved into hers.

“All I asked is that you stay out of my way . . .” Hester’s breath chilled the back of her neck.

“And here you are, 1 Villain, making fools of us all. Well, you forgot a villain’s story doesn’t end happily, dear. So let me remind you how it ends. First you. Then your prince. Dead.” Cold lips grazed Sophie’s ear. “And that’s no figure of speech.” Sophie whipped around. No one there. She jolted to her feet, slammed into Tedros, screamed—and collapsed in his arms. “She’s going to kill us, you then me or me then you—I can’t remember the order—and you’re an Ever and I’m a Never and now we fight against each other—” “Or we fight with each other.”

Sophie blinked. “We . . . do?”

“Everyone will know you’re Good if I protect you,” said Tedros, still a bit sweaty. “Only a true princess can earn a prince’s shield.” “But—they’ll target you! Everyone thinks I’m Evil!” “Not if we win,” Tedros said, grinning. “They’ll have to make you an Ever.” Sophie shook her head and hugged him tight. “You are my prince. You really are.” “Now go win your challenges so we enter the Trial at the same time. You can’t be in there without me.” Sophie drained of blood. “But—but—”

“But what? You’re the best Never by a mile.” “I know, it’s just—”

Tedros held her chin up, forcing her to look into his crystal-blue eyes. “First place in every challenge. Deal?” Sophie nodded weakly.

“We’re a team,” said Tedros, dimpling, and with a last brush of her cheek, he left through the Ever Doors.

Sophie trudged across the stage to the Never Doors and paused. She turned slowly.

Agatha sat in the pink pews, all alone.

“I told you I belong here, darling,” Sophie sighed. “You just wouldn’t listen.” Agatha said nothing.

“Maybe the School Master will let you go home alone,” Sophie said.

Agatha didn’t flinch.

“You need to make new friends, Agatha.” Sophie smiled gently. “I have a prince now.” Agatha just stared into her eyes.

Sophie stopped smiling. “I have a prince.” She slammed the door behind her.

In Uglification, Manley asked the competing 15 Nevers to conjure a disguise that would scare off an Ever “at first sight.” Hester’s potion made her whole body explode with spikes. Anadil’s turned her skin so thin all her blood vessels shined through. Meanwhile, Sophie bashed tadpoles to give herself shingles again, but somehow gave herself a spiral horn and glittered horsetail instead.

“Because what’s scarier to a princess than a unicorn?” snarled Manley.

In Henchmen, the Trial Nevers had to tame a Fire Giant, a nine-foot hunk of hot orange skin and flaming hair. Sophie tried to read his thoughts, but all his thoughts were in Giant. Luckily, she remembered some of the Giant words Agatha had taught her.

FIRE GIANT: And why shouldn’t I kill you?

SOPHIE: I know this horse.

FIRE GIANT: I see no horse!

SOPHIE: It is as vast as your undergarments.

Castor intervened before the Giant ate her.

Then Lady Lesso asked the Trial Nevers to name a “spell that can only be undone by the one who casts it.” “Answers?”

Shivering, the Nevers held up carved ice tablets: HESTER: Petrification

ANADIL: Petrification

ARACHNE: Petrification

SOPHIE: Special Spell

“If only love was the answer to everything,” said Lady Lesso, handing Sophie another “15” out of 15.

“What happened?” said Tedros as he pushed her through the Evers line.

“Just a slow start—”

“Sophie, you can’t be in that Forest without me!” She followed his eyes to scowling Evers. Come the Trial, they’d all be out for revenge.

“Just do what you were doing before!” Tedros begged.

Sophie gritted her teeth as she walked back to her room. If Agatha could do well in the School for Good, then she could do well here! Yes, she’d boil her toad eyes, she’d learn her Giant, she’d cook a child if she had to! (Or supervise, at least.) Nothing would stop her from her Ever After! She puffed her chest, stormed through her door, and froze.

Her bed had disappeared. The mirror had been shattered.

And over her head hung all her old outfits, noosed and mutilated, like headless corpses.

On her bed, Anadil looked up from Killing Pretty Girls. Hester looked up from Killing Even Prettier Girls.

Sophie barreled into the top-floor office. “My roommates want to kill me!” Lady Lesso smiled back from her desk. “That’s the spirit.” The door closed magically in Sophie’s face.

Sophie cowered in the dark hall. Last week, she had been the most popular girl in school! And now she couldn’t even go back to her room?

She wiped her eyes. It didn’t matter, did it? Soon she’d be switching schools and all of this would be behind her. She had the boy every girl wanted. She had her prince! Two stupid witches were no match for true love!

Voices echoed above. She ducked into shadows— “Hester said whoever kills Sophie during the Trial will be her Hench Captain next year,” Arachne said as she descended the stairs. “But it needs to look accidental or we’ll get expelled.” “We have to beat Anadil to it!” Mona said, green skin flushing. “Suppose she kills her before the Trial!” “Hester said during the Trial. Even Vex and Brone know that. Did you hear their plan to kill her? They searched the Good lake to find those leftover eggs. That girl is so dead.” “Can’t believe we listened to that traitor’s lectures,” Mona seethed. “Next thing you know, she’d have had us wearing pink and kissing Evers!” “She humiliated us all and now she’ll pay,” Arachne said, narrowing her eye. “Fourteen of us. One of her. Odds aren’t in her favor.” Their cackles pealed through the damp stairwell.

Sophie didn’t move from the dark. It wasn’t just her roommates. The whole school wanted her dead. There was nowhere safe now.

Nowhere except . . .

At the end of a dark, stale hall, the door to Room 34 cracked open after the third knock. Two beady black pupils peered out.

“Hello, handsome,” Sophie cooed.

“Don’t even try it—you’re a prince lover, you’re a two-timer, you’re a—” Sophie held her nose, breezed by Hort, and locked him out of her new room.

Hort pounded and wailed outside for twenty minutes before Sophie finally let him back in.

“You can help me study until curfew,” she said, spritzing the room with lavandula. “But no sleeping here.” “This is my room!” Hort sulked, plopping to the floor in black pajamas dotted with frowning green frogs.

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I? And boys and girls can’t be roommates, so it certainly can’t be your room,” said Sophie, tucking into his bed.

“But where am I supposed to stay!”

“I hear the Malice Common Room is quite comfortable.” Ignoring Hort’s whimpers, Sophie sank into pillows and held a candle to his class notes. She had to win all her challenges tomorrow. Her only hope to survive the Trial was to go in with Tedros and hide behind his shield the whole time.

“To humiliate an enemy, turn him into a chicken: Banta pareo dirosti?” She squinted. “Is that right?” “Sophie, how do you know you aren’t a villain?” Hort yawned, hunched on the burned floor.

“I look in the mirror. Hort, your penmanship is foul.” “When I look in the mirror, I look like a villain.” “Probably means you’re a villain.”

“Dad told me villains can’t love, no matter what. That it’s unnatural and disgusting.” Sophie made out scratchy words. “To freeze an Ever in ice, make your soul cold . . .” “So I definitely can’t love,” Hort said.

“Colder than you thought possible . . . Then say these words . . .” “But if I could love, I’d love you.”

Sophie turned. Hort was snoring softly on the floor, button-flap lit up with angry green frogs.

“Hort, you can’t sleep here,” she said.

Hort curled up tighter.

Sophie threw off her covers, stamped up to him— “Take that, Pan,” he babbled softly.

Sophie watched him, shivering and sweating in his little ball.

She slid back under the musty covers. Candle to notes, she tried to study, but his snuffles lulled her into a trance, and before she knew it was morning.

The second day went as well as the first, with Sophie earning three more last places, the third of which came in Henchmen when she couldn’t make her finger glow in time to disarm a stink-troll.

She could see veins swell in Tedros’ neck as he yanked her through the lunch line, holding his nose.

“Should I lose on purpose? Or do you want to go into the Trial three hours early!” “I’m trying as hard as I can—”

“The Sophie I know doesn’t try. She wins.” They ate in silence.

“Where’s her fairy godmother now?” Sophie heard Beatrix crow.

Across the field Agatha did homework with Kiko, back turned completely.

The next day, the challengers spent their first two sessions being fitted for their Trial uniforms: dark blue tunics of silky iron mesh, and matching hooded wool cloaks lined with red brocade. With thirty students in the same cloaks, it would be impossible to tell Evers from Nevers, even if one could see blue cloaks in a Blue Forest. When it came to clothes, Sophie was normally at full attention. But today, she had her head buried in Hort’s notes. Lady Lesso’s class was next and she needed first place.

“A villain kills for one purpose: to destroy his Nemesis. The one who grows stronger as you grow weaker. Only when your Nemesis is dead will you feel quenched,” said the tight-skinned teacher, clacking through the aisle. “Of course, since only the best Nevers will have Nemesis Dreams, most of you will venture your whole life without taking another’s life. Consider yourself lucky. Killing requires the purest Evil. None of you are pure enough to kill yet.” Sophie heard grumbles in her direction.

“But since the Trial by Tale is a harmless exercise”—Lady Lesso smiled at her—“why not prepare with my favorite challenge . . .” She conjured a phantom princess with brown curls, blushing dimples, and a smile sweeter than a baby’s.

“Murder Practice. Whoever kills her the cruelest way wins.” “Finally, something useful,” Hester said, eyeing Sophie.

Though the chamber was colder than ever, Sophie shined with sweat.

With the princess locked behind a door and suspicious of strangers, the Trial Nevers had to be creative to kill her. Mona uglified herself into a peddler and gifted the princess poisoned lipstick. After Lady Lesso conjured a new maiden, Anadil knocked on her door and left a carnivorous bouquet outside it. Hester shrank into a cute squirrel and offered her victim a glittery balloon.

“Why, thank you!” the princess beamed as the balloon pulled her up, up, up into the razor-sharp icicles on the ceiling.

Sophie closed her eyes through most of this.

“Who’s next?” Lady Lesso said, sealing a new princess behind the door. “Oh, yes. You.” She drummed long red nails on Sophie’s desk. Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Sophie felt sick. Murder? Even if it was a phantom, she couldn’t mur— The Beast’s dying face flashed and she blanched. That was different! He was Evil! Any prince would have done the same!

“Another fail, it seems,” Lady Lesso leered.

Meeting her eyes, Sophie thought of Tedros losing faith in her. She thought of fourteen villains convinced they were pure enough to kill. She thought of her happy ending slipping away . . .

The Sophie I love doesn’t try.

Jaw set, she stormed to the door, past her surprised teacher, finger glowing pink— To freeze an Ever in ice . . .

She pounded on the door.

Make your soul cold . . .

The door opened and Sophie’s fingerglow dimmed.

It was her own face staring back at her, only with the long blond locks she had before the Beast. To win this challenge, she had to kill . . . herself.

Sophie saw Lady Lesso smirking in the corner.

“May I help you?” asked Princess Sophie.

Just a ghost. Sophie gritted her teeth and felt her finger burn once more.

“You look like a stranger,” said the princess, blushing.

Colder than you thought possible . . .

Sophie pointed her glowing finger at her.

“Mother said never talk to strangers,” said the princess anxiously.

Say it!

Sophie’s fingertip flickered—she couldn’t find the words— “I should go. Mother’s calling.”

Kill her! Kill her now!

“Goodbye,” said the princess, closing her door— “BANTA PAREO DIROSTI!”

Poof! The princess turned into a chicken. Sophie grabbed it in her arms, hurled a chair, shattering the iced window, and flung the bird into open sky— “Fly, Sophie! You’re free!”

The chicken tried to fly, then realized it couldn’t, and plummeted to its death.

“For the first time, I feel sorry for an animal,” Lady Lesso said.

Another “15” spat in Sophie’s face.

Perhaps the only thing Sophie liked about the School for Evil was that there were plenty of places to cry. She tucked behind a crumbling arch and sobbed. How would she ever face Tedros?

“We insist you remove Sophie from the Trial.” Sophie recognized the gruff voice as Professor Manley’s. She crept out of the archway and peeked through the keyhole into his putrid classroom. But where the rusted seats normally were filled with villains, now they were occupied by the faculty of both schools. Professor Dovey presided at the dragon-skull lectern, which she’d brightened with a pumpkin paperweight.

“The Nevers plan to kill her, Clarissa,” finished bald, pimpled Manley.

“Bilious, we have secure measures in place to prevent a student’s death.” “Let’s hope they’re more secure than four years ago,” he shot back.

“I think we are all in agreement that Garrick’s death was an accident!” Professor Dovey flared.

The room was ominously silent. In the hall, Sophie could hear her own shallow breaths.

Garrick of Gavaldon. Taken with Bane.

Bane had failed. Garrick had died.

Her heart rattled against her ribs.

Getting home alive is our happy ending.

Agatha was right all along.

“There is another reason Sophie must be removed from the Trial,” Castor said soberly. “The fairies say she and the Everboy plan to act as a team.” “As a team?” Professor Dovey gaped. “An Ever and a Never?” “Imagine if they won!” shrieked Professor Sheeks. “Imagine if word got out in the Woods!” “So either she dies or destroys this school,” Manley groused and spat on the floor.

“Clarissa, this is an easy decision,” said Lady Lesso.

“But there’s no precedent for removing a qualified student from a Trial!” Professor Dovey protested.

“Qualified! She flunked every challenge this week!” said Manley. “The boy has convinced her she’s Good!” “Perhaps she’s just feeling the pressure of the Trial,” offered Princess Uma, feeding a quail on her shoulder— “Or she duped us all into thinking she was Evil’s great hope!” Professor Sheeks said. “She should have failed before the Trial!” “Then why didn’t she?” Professor Anemone asked.

“Every time we tried to fail her, another student got last place instead,” Manley said. “Someone stopped her from failing!” Evil teachers clamored in furious agreement.

“Makes perfect sense,” Professor Dovey said over them. “Some mysterious busybody, who no one has ever seen, flits through your tower, meddling with your ranks.” “You describe the School Master quite well, Clarissa,” said Lady Lesso.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lady Lesso. Why would the School Master interfere with a student’s ranks?” “Because he’d love nothing better than to see Evil’s ‘best’ student win behind Good’s shield,” Lady Lesso hissed, violet eyes strobing. “A student who even I foolishly thought had hope. But if Sophie wins with that pathetic prince, I will not stand by, Clarissa. I will not allow the School Master, nor you and your arrogant beasts, to destroy my life’s work. Hear me now. Let Sophie compete in that Trial and you are risking more than just her life. You are risking war.” The room went dead silent.

Professor Dovey cleared her throat. “Perhaps she can compete next year—” Sophie slumped in relief.

“You cave to Evil!” Professor Espada cried.

“Only to protect the girl—” Dovey said weakly— “But the Everboy will still love her!” Anemone warned.

“A week in the Doom Room will fix that,” said Lady Lesso.

“Still can’t find the Beast,” said Sheeba— “Then get a new one!” Lady Lesso snarled.

“How about a vote?” chirped Uma.

“VOTES ARE FOR SISSIES!” Castor roared, and teachers burst into a rumpus. Uma’s quail poop-bombed the Evil teachers, Castor tried to eat the bird, and Pollux managed to lose his head again, before someone whistled with loud authority. Everyone turned to the man standing in the corner of the burned room.

“This school has one mission and one mission only,” said Professor Sader. “To protect the balance between Good and Evil. If Sophie’s participation in the Trial disturbs this balance, then she must be disqualified immediately. Luckily for us, the proof of this balance is in front of your eyes.” Everyone’s gaze shifted. Sophie tried to see what they were looking at, then realized they were all looking in different directions.

“Are we in agreement the balance is intact?” said Professor Sader.

No one argued.

“Then Sophie will compete in the Trial by Tale and we have nothing more to discuss.” Sophie swallowed a scream.

“Always so sensible, August,” said Lady Lesso, standing up. “Thankfully, the girl’s failures have ensured she will spend most of the Trial without the boy protecting her. Let us hope that she dies so brutally no one would dare repeat her mistakes. Only then will her story have the ending it deserves. Perhaps one even fit for a painting.” She swept from the room and the Evil teachers followed her.

As the Good faculty filed out, muttering to each other in pairs, Professor Dovey and Professor Sader emerged last. They walked in silence, her high-necked chartreuse gown rustling against his shamrock-green suit.

“What if she dies, August?” Clarissa asked.

“What if she lives?” said Sader.

Clarissa stopped. “You still believe it’s true?” “I do. As do I believe it true the Storian started her fairy tale.” “But it’s impossible—it’s lunacy—it’s—” Clarissa flushed with horror. “This is why you intervened?” “On the contrary, I haven’t intervened,” Sader said. “Our duty is to let the story take its course—” “No! What have you—” Professor Dovey’s hand flew to her mouth—“This is why you send a girl to risk her life? Because you believe your spurious prophecy?” “There is far more at stake here than one girl’s life, Clarissa.” “She’s just a girl! An innocent girl!” Professor Dovey gasped, welling furious tears. “Her blood is on your hands!” As she fled, sniffles echoing down the stairs, Professor Sader’s hazel eyes clouded with doubt.

He couldn’t see Sophie crouched next to him, trying to stop herself from shivering.

Awash in the Clearing’s crinkly leaves, Kiko wrapped her shawl tighter and licked her spiced corn cob.

“So I asked every girl if they’d say yes to Tristan and they all said no! So that means he has to ask me! He could go alone, of course, but if a boy goes alone to the Ball, he only gets half ranks and Tristan likes using the Groom Room so he’ll definitely ask me. Well, Tristan could ask you, but you told him to marry Tedros, so I don’t think he likes you. I can’t believe you said that. As if princes could marry each other. Then what would we do?” Agatha chomped on her cob to drown her out. Across the Clearing, she saw Sophie and Tedros arguing ferociously in the mouth of the tree tunnel. It looked like Sophie was trying to apologize and embrace him—kiss him, even—but Tedros shoved her away.

“Are you listening to me?”

Agatha turned. “Wait. So if a girl doesn’t get asked to the Ball, then she fails and suffers a punishment worse than death. But if a boy doesn’t go to the Ball, he gets half ranks? How is that fair!” “Because it’s the truth,” Kiko said. “A boy can choose to be alone if he wants. But if a girl ends up alone . . . she might as well be dead.” Agatha swallowed. “That’s ridiculous—”

Something dropped in her basket.

Agatha glanced up to see Sophie meet her eyes as Tedros dragged her into the Evers line.

As Kiko jabbered on, Agatha pulled a luscious pink rose bloom from her basket, then saw it was made of parchment. With the deftest care, she undid the flower in the lap of her dress.

The note only had three words.

I need you.