Princess at Heart (The Rosewood Chronicles)

‘A box?’ Binah repeated, leaning back into Lottie’s frilly pink pillows and looking comfortable enough to start purring.

‘Not just a box, a secret – one he wants to share with Jamie.’

Lottie was pacing back and forth on one of the purple rugs of the Ivy dorms, absently biting at the chipped nail polish on her fingernail, a bad habit she’d picked up.

‘Isn’t that odd? And why is he waiting to show it to him?’ Sitting down on the floor with a thump, Lottie stared up at Binah as if she might magically know the contents of the mysterious box. ‘It has to be something we can use, right?’

The room was getting warm from Lottie’s frantic energy, only the slight breeze coming from the half-open balcony keeping the temperature bearable, but it came at the price of occasionally blowing Claude’s letters about. Both of them were starting to look like little creatures, rustling for attention if she ignored them for too long.

‘Oh, absolutely,’ Binah agreed, ‘but how on earth would we get it?’

Lottie had secretly been hoping Binah would suggest something reckless like breaking in and grabbing the box themselves, and to hear her discuss it so cautiously was a reminder of how serious this was. Even Binah wouldn’t tempt fate when it came to Haru.

Claude’s most recent letter fluttered again, and Lottie quickly put a book over it in an attempt to force herself to stop worrying about it.

She wasn’t any closer to solving anything, not Leviathan’s plan nor Claude’s goal, and now she was fixated on that box and what might be inside it.

What would Sayuri do? Lottie thought, spreading out on the rug and seeing the dark spot under her bed where her sword – or, rather, Liliana’s sword, was wrapped in cloth and hidden away. It looked lonely, out of place and useless, everything Lottie was afraid of becoming.

‘What’s this?!’ Binah exclaimed, her voice full of curiosity.

Lottie sat up just in time to see her pluck one of the postcards Lottie had displayed on her wall by the bed.

It was the one she’d got from Sayuri back at the palace, the front illustration depicting the bamboo forest where they’d found the first sword, Sayuri’s sword.

‘It’s a postcard from Sayuri.’

‘You two became quite close, didn’t you?’

Lottie nodded. ‘I promised her I’d help figure everything out and that she could trust me, but so far all I’ve done is push us into a corner.’

Binah hummed thoughtfully to herself, carefully putting the card back. ‘What did you do with the postcard you received the other day?’

The question made Lottie pause, having buried the thought in the bin along with the postcard. To her relief, footsteps sounded on the landing, and Binah and Lottie quickly shoved the letters and notes they’d made under Lottie’s pillow just as the door creaked open. Ellie stood there, looking sweaty but invigorated in her fencing clothes.

‘Well, I’d better go.’ Binah grinned at Lottie, but Lottie hardly noticed; she was too caught up in seeing Ellie looking so well after her class.

‘Oh, yes, thank you for the science help, Binah. I’ll see you later.’ Lottie could have kicked herself for how terrible the excuse sounded, and Binah rolled her eyes as she made her way outside.

‘Have a pleasant evening, you two,’ she called over her shoulder, leaving the two girls alone.

Ellie looked back at the closed door, lifting an eyebrow suspiciously, but she didn’t say anything, instead letting out a tired but satisfied sigh as she stretched her neck out.

‘You look pleased,’ Lottie announced, unable to stop herself smiling at the way Ellie’s flushed skin made her look like a valiant prince returned from winning battle.

‘Yeah, I beat Anastacia.’ Ellie threw her fencing gear on to her bed, and began fiddling with her suit.

‘Let me help you with that.’

As she’d done many times before, Lottie reached for the zip at the back of Ellie’s neck, coming close enough to smell the cocoa scent of her shampoo, close enough to feel the warmth of her breath against Ellie’s porcelain skin. Carefully she pulled down the fabric, which fell away to reveal the hard white breastplate beneath. Her hands reached for the straps, muscle memory taking over, pulling on each tie with delicate calm attention.

It was just as the breastplate fell away that she saw it, a flash of dark markings, angry as a scar, the skin puffed up and sore around a deceptively elegant script. She didn’t have enough of a view to see it in full, but it looked to be the Maravish word, bol’shbrota – which Lottie knew meant ‘painful self-sacrifice’.

There was no time for her brain to be sure she’d seen it correctly, when abruptly, like an animal caught in a snare, Ellie grabbed her wrist with so much force it made Lottie jump. ‘I can do it myself.’

She pushed Lottie to the side, hard enough that Lottie caught her leg on the bedside table, and her water glass fell, smashing as she landed on her duvet.

‘Ellie, what was that?’ she asked. ‘And … and … you pushed me!’

‘It’s nothing,’ Ellie replied. ‘Lottie, I didn’t mean to, I just …’ She swore in Maravish. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Ellie, calm down, it’s OK.’ Lottie scrambled up to start clearing away the glass. ‘I’m fine.’

‘No, no, Lottie. I’ll clean it up. You stay right there.’

Her head still spinning, Lottie sat back down to watch Ellie pick up the broken glass, and from the way her dark eyes glittered it looked like she was fighting back tears. She sat there for a while, replaying the event over and over and the sore-looking mark on Ellie’s skin, not believing what she’d seen or understanding what it meant.

‘Lottie, what’s this?’ Ellie called over from the bin where she’d put the glass.

Lottie turned, blinking away the last of her shock, when she saw what was in Ellie’s hand.

‘It’s nothing,’ Lottie said, staring at the Havana postcard.

‘It’s not nothing …’ Ellie’s voice caught. ‘It’s from your dad.’

‘I know.’ Lottie marched over to take it. ‘I’m not interested. I have you guys and my Portman job; why would I want to see him?’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Why didn’t you tell me about that thing on your ribcage?’ Lottie countered, throwing the postcard in the bin again.

‘This is ridiculous, Lottie,’ retorted Ellie, ignoring Lottie’s accusation. ‘It says he’s selling the house? Where will you live?’

‘Why does that matter?’ Lottie demanded. ‘I live with you.’

They stared each other down, chests heaving. Lottie looked at the wolf pendant that dangled over Ellie’s chest, knowing that as long as they shared it they were bound together. Just as it should be.

‘Because,’ Ellie said at last, sounding colder than Lottie expected, ‘you need a family beyond me. You need to have a place to go if all this stops.’

Lottie felt her stomach drop. Ellie was her family. The idea of there being anything else beyond what she felt for Ellie was as impossible as the sun rising in the west.

‘But I only want you.’ Lottie could hear her voice break.

From the way Ellie flinched, Lottie knew she felt the same way – that there was part of their relationship they’d never acted upon, full of wonderful possibilities.

Ellie looked away first, sighing. ‘Sometimes,’ she began, ‘what you want isn’t what you actually need.’

And, just like that, the fruit of possibility shrivelled into dust.

Before Lottie could ask any of the burning questions she had, a knock sounded at their door. Both of them looked to one another, waiting to see who would answer.

‘Hello?’ Saskia’s voice carried from the other side of the door.

‘Hey!’ Ellie answered, opening the door to reveal not just Saskia but Percy too, and with them a flood of worry so thick they could smell it like smoke from a forest fire.

‘What’s happened?’ Lottie asked.

‘Is it Leviathan?’ Ellie added, both of them already preparing for a fight.

Instead Percy and Saskia looked at each other in slow gloom, totally at odds with Ellie and Lottie’s energy.

Saskia shook her head, putting a hand on Percy’s shoulder in comfort, squeezing ever so slightly. ‘It’s Lola and Micky,’ she said, and Lottie already knew what awful news was coming. ‘Their dad has passed away.’