The Liars by Heraa Hashmi Page B

sitting.
    He stared back at her, and even when Tourmaline’s steps echoed into silence, he didn’t say anything.
    “What was that?” Memory demanded. “She has a daughter?”
    Chrysander said nothing, staring at the ceiling. Shaking, Memory crawled out from her hiding spot and stood up, her joints aching.
    “T-thanks for letting me hide. Um, I’ll be on my way.”
     
    Memory walked back to her room in a daze. What had Tourmaline wanted so bad she begged her brother for help? And a daughter? What daughter?
    She found Diana sitting in the middle of the room, broomstick in hand.
    She wasn’t happy.
    As soon as Memory made a move for the study room Diana got up after her, and a chase around the lounge ensued.
    “Wait, Diana, you can’t hit me!” She cried. “I’m the Princess!”
    “The King gave me orders to make sure you study, and he said any way to enforce it is okay.” Diana threw the broomstick at her but Memory dodged it.
    “Okay, okay! But before you hit me,” Memory picked up the plate of biscuits from the coffee table and threw them at the house maid one by one, “Does Tourmaline have a daughter?”
    Diana chased her around the velvet seats. “No–what gives you that idea?”
    “Never mind, then.” Memory threw the last of the cookies and then flinched as Diana barreled towards her, ready to strangle her.
     
    Well, on the upside, she finished her homework. There was a bruise here and then there, but nothing that couldn’t be covered using makeup.
    Once she was done, she excused herself to go talk to Queen Beryl. She was here for one sole reason–to get the old woman to change her Will. Without Prince Cassian here ordering her about left and right, she thought getting close to her personally was the way to go.
    Except, much to her annoyance, the redhead was sitting in her spot, talking excitedly with the sick woman. And when Memory entered, she turned to smile wickedly, like she knew exactly what she was up to.
    “Grandmother.” Memory curtsied, taking a seat on the other side of the bed. “I’m sorry it’s been too long.”
    Queen Beryl hushed her. “I have been looked after, so not to worry.” She gestured to Emerald who smirked.
    “I brought you cookies, Aunt Beryl.” She picked up a tray of freshly made cookies, and a delicious smell wafted into Memory’s nose. “Your favorite sugar cookies.” She added sweetly.
    “You are too kind, dear.” Queen Beryl patted Emerald on the head.
    The three conversed for a bit, Memory trying to get as much input as she could. But it was clear all of her grandmother’s attention was on Emerald, so she left, feeling miffed.
     
    Another week rushed by without any excitement. Life was dull, duller than Memory had expected it to. All she did was study–study things Diana told her she should’ve learned years ago–and gain weight by eating so much.
    Although, she and the head maid had a customary chase through the palace every morning. It had become quite competitive, Memory waking up earlier and earlier every day to beat Diana and get a head start. And it was all worth it, especially because she couldn’t get enough sleep because of the nightmares.
    Many workers at the palace found it amusing, and while some sold her out, many helped her hide. The head cook always offered to let her stay in the extra food storage, but after the first two times Diana had caught her, she turned to the chauffeurs. So on this particular morning, she was lounging in one of the unused cars in the back of the garage.
    “Would you like some biscuits, princess?” Jones asked her, pulling on his white gloves. Memory shook her head, her hands on the wheel of the car.
    “No thank you. Letting me in here was enough.” She coughed, holding her throat, and Jones blinked.
    “Are you alright?”
    Memory smiled. “I’ve been sick for a while. I don’t know. But thanks for letting me sit here.”
    Jones managed a small smile. “Of course.”
    “Where are you