Page 49

E very single scar, from years of merciless lashings in the basement of the Presidential Palace, was on full display. My back was a landscape of ugly scarred tissue, discolored and disfigured. Any part of me that felt like a princess disappeared.

“I—” I struggled to speak, my throat dry as desert sand. “I can’t wear this.”

Marissa whipped around the corner, angry as a hornet. “What do you mean you can’t wear—” Her voice dropped as her eyes caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. Her lips parted as her eyes widened in shock.

I looked away from the mirror to face her, trying my best to choke down the tears that were threatening to come cascading down. “I can’t wear this,” I repeated.

Marissa took cautious steps forward, her eyes transfixed on the reflection in the mirror behind me. “What—how? Where—” She tripped over her words, unable to form coherent speech as the features of her face changed from shock, to confusion, to horror, and then to disgust.

I closed my eyes. How could I have forgotten about my scars? How could I have been so stupid to forget the remains of years of abuse? How? Slowly, I opened my eyes again, my vision blurring. And all I saw in return was the revulsion painted across Marissa’s face.

“Are you even a true de la Puente?” she sneered.

“What?”

Her eyes narrowed at me. “How could the First Daughter have scars like those? Who are you really?”

My lips parted, but I had no words for her. How do you explain that your parents hate you? That they beat you in the dark and leave you to starve? I took a deep breath. “I am Mara de la Puente.”

“ Liar! ” Marissa snapped back. “You and Sasha are trying to cheat the North.”

“No, I swear ,“ I insisted.

“Mom!” I jumped at the sound of Wes’s voice. “ Enough. ” He wasn’t fully dressed yet, only wearing his black slacks while his white shirt hung open, unbuttoned, revealing the taut skin of his chest.

Marissa turned to face him. “This is an outrage. If she has no claim to the presidency, then this arrangement with Sasha is a farce. I will not—”

“Mrs. Calvernon?”

As if things couldn’t get any worse…they did. We all jumped at the sound of an unexpected voice. And when I looked to see who it was, mortal dread filled me. Because there, right in front of me, was Blondie.

Shit.

“Calista,” Marissa said. “What are you doing here? And what happened to you?”

Blondie was wearing a tight black dress that scooped way too low in the front and even lower in the back.

Her blonde locks were a cascade of loose waves, while beautiful diamond earrings and a matching necklace completed her ensemble.

She looked perfect, like a classic beauty.

The only thing that ruined the image was the big white bandaging across the bridge of her nose, compliments of me, of course.

I saw the hint of blush color her cheeks as she replied flatly, “Training.” She tossed her hair back and lifted her chin. “President De’vor sent me to look for you. I heard your voice, and I came in. I didn’t know I was interrupting something.” Her voice sounded so light and innocent.

But I saw the moment her vision caught sight of me and the mirror behind me.

Her lips parted—just an inch—and her eyes glimmered in silent victory.

The corner of her lips tipped ever so slightly in a quick smirk that was gone in half a second, replaced with a look of mock concern. “Oh my goodness, Mara. Are you okay?”

Marissa jumped into action, reaching to the clothing rack and pulling out a dainty golden evening shawl.

“Everything is fine, Miss Haeflinger,” Marissa said, the tension thick in her voice.

Quick as a whip, she threw the shawl over my shoulders, covering my back.

“Mara is perfectly fine,” she insisted as she walked away from me and back toward Calista.

“You can tell President De’vor that I will be there momentarily.

I’d very much like to speak with her as well,” she added as she gave me the side-eye.

My cheeks flushed with heat, embarrassment and shame filling me.

Marissa placed a hand on Calista’s back, guiding her out the door. “Of course, I would very much appreciate your discretion regarding anything you might have heard or seen, dear.”

Calista placed a hand on her chest. “Oh, of course. You know I would do anything for the North. Your secrets are safe with me,” she added with a smile.

“Thank you, dear.” And then she closed the door, shutting Blondie out.

“Mrs. Calvernon, please,” I started, “I-I can’t wear this. I have to find another dress—”

“There is no other dress!” Marissa almost screamed at me. “There is nothing else.”

I felt the tears flooding my eyes. “I can’t do this,” I muttered. “I can’t step out there with my back exposed for everyone to see—”

“Enough,” Marissa cut me off. “And stop your crying. You’ll ruin your make-up.” Marissa stepped up to me, face stern and cold. “You will step out there, and you will remain poised no matter what happens. You will wear this stupid wrap and keep it on all night. Do you understand?”

I nodded, clasping my hands to my chest, my stomach in knots.

“Good.” Marissa looked down at the floor, pensive.

“We’ll discuss this later, but for now,” she turned to face Wes, “do not propose until I discuss this matter with your father and President De’vor.

” She looked at me, emotions passing through.

“I don’t know who you are, but I pray for your sake that you are who you claim to be, or I’m afraid you might find yourself in a most precarious position. ”

Wes stood up straighter, his hands balling into fists.

Marissa narrowed her eyes at me, and then pointed at the four women who had dressed me, as well as the two men who had assisted Wes.

“All of you are to remain quiet about what you have seen. Understood?” Everyone nodded, but I didn’t miss the frowns on their faces, or the way their eyes kept staring at me.

Marissa gave me one last glare before opening the door to the parlor and leaving the room.

The staff all tipped their chins to their chests and chased her out, closing the door behind them.

The room grew silent. I thought I actually heard air flowing over the thundering of my own heart.

“I’m sorry,” Wes whispered.

I inhaled deeply, shoving down the tears that so desperately wanted to fall, swallowing them, choking down my hurt. “It’s fine,” I said gruffly.

“Mara—”

“I said it’s fine .” I know my voice came out too sharp.

It wasn’t his fault. But I was so embarrassed, so ashamed…

and I still had to get through the night.

I gripped the stupid wrap and fiddled with it to make sure my shoulders and entire back were covered.

I was struggling to keep it together. All it would take was one pitiful look, one misplaced word, and the facade I was desperately trying to iron in place would crack and come tumbling down. How was I going to do this?

“Can I please say something?”

“I don’t want to hear it, Wes,” I snapped, turning to look at him, and then instantly felt awful.

For once, I wasn’t greeted by a scowl or stoic mask.

Wes looked…sad. The golden hue of his eyes was muted, allowing the green to shine through more than I had ever seen before.

The corners of his lips were tipped into a mournful frown.

I opened my mouth to apologize, but hesitated as he shifted, placing his hands in the pockets of his black slacks.

He looked away briefly before standing up straighter and setting his eyes on me once again. The sadness never left his gaze, but the right corner of his lips tilted upward into a shadow of his characteristic grin.

“No matter what they say,” he began, words soft and tender as he reached for his tuxedo jacket hanging on the rack, “you look beautiful to me. Always.”

My heart seized, and before I could utter a single syllable, Wes walked out of the parlor. I was left with a fresh wave of emotions I was barely beginning to understand and had no idea what to do with.