Chapter 12
12
I woke to Jinky shaking my shoulder. “Your Highness,” she yelled in my ear. “Wake up. You’re going to be late.”
I groaned and turned away from her, dragging the fluffy blanket over my head.
Jinky persisted. “Princess, please, you’re going to be late for your classes.”
I had no intention of showing my face at BANA after what happened at the council meeting. They’d all heard about it by now, no doubt. “I’m sick,” I lied, my voice muffled by the bedding. I forced a phony cough.
Jinky tsked at me. “You’re perfectly fine, and you have exam review today.” Then she added with forced cheer, “Wouldn’t want you to miss something so important.”
I groaned again, but I knew she was right. Not about the exam—I definitely wouldn’t have minded missing that—just that I needed to go. The real test was whether I could withstand this kind of opposition. Raise my head up high and show my face to people like Amador. I couldn’t allow them to keep me from the throne. My pride was at stake, too. I wasn’t gonna let them win.
I was taking that throne one way or another.
***
On the way to school, I saw lights going up on the street poles and purple banners being lifted. In the grassy common areas, more nuno workers were busy erecting scaffolding and bleachers for the parade audience. Ayo said invitations for the Coronation Eve Ball were going out with the messenger that afternoon. It was all happening so soon.
Then I noticed something, way off in the distance, beyond the Paulanan Mountains. Dark clouds. A gathering storm.
I yanked the window curtain shut and sat back against the seat.
At least my classmates had finally gotten used to me being around. Most of them had stopped staring when I arrived every morning and switched over to either total indifference or—though it was embarrassing to admit—fawning admiration.
A trio of Sirena first-years ran up to me as I approached the front doors. “Hi, Princess. My name’s Darna,” one of them introduced herself, while her two friends looked too scared to speak.
“We wanted to give you this as a token of our loyalty,” Darna said, bowing before handing me a beribboned box. “They’re polvoron cookies. We made them ourselves.”
“Oh, how nice!” I said. “My favorite.”
Darna and her friends beamed. She continued: “We’re all writers for the BANA Bulletin . We know you’re really busy and everything, but we were wondering if maybe you’d be interested in joining?”
“Oh, cool! I don’t think I can take on any more right now with the coronation and everything, though.” I did feel sorta bad turning them down; they were being so nice. There was just no extra time. I was running on empty as it was.
“Right, of course,” she said sheepishly. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize. I appreciate the invite. I’ll get back to you when things calm down?”
Her face lit up. “Sure! That’s great.” She handed me a copy of their latest issue before they walked away. I glanced over it as I walked inside and noticed a headline, What Can the Crown Princess Do for BANA?, at the bottom of the front page, alongside photos of three students and their responses. One was “One uniform for all students. Why are we divided by where we come from?”
As soon as I walked in, another Sirena tapped me on the shoulder and handed me a piece of paper. “Your Highness, we’re having a bonfire at Lake Reyna, if you want to come—”
“The princess can’t come to your bonfire.” Fortunada walked up.
The guy slinked away.
“First-years,” she said. “They don’t get it.” I noticed she’d ditched the glasses and added a ring to her daily ensemble. It matched her heirloom bracelet, with a huge pearl surrounded by diamonds.
“It doesn’t bother me,” I said. “I’m glad they like me, to be honest.”
“I’m only concerned they’re interested in social perks and not friendship,” she said. “I’m trying to look out for you.”
“That’s very nice of you”— it wasn’t —“but it’s all good.”
“Sorry.” She cringed. “Now you’re mad at me.”
“No, not at all!” I heard the bells chiming. “Shoot, I don’t want to be late. I’ll see you around, Fortunada.”
“See you around,” she said. She stood and watched me until I disappeared around the corner.
In history, Professor Borromeo called on me first thing. “Princess, tell us about Biringan’s break from the human world.”
Luckily, I’d paid attention last time. “A war broke out because humans and encantos did not agree about how to treat the land,” I said. “Afterward, humans lost touch with magic. Their knowledge of the enchanted ones faded over time, aside from myth.”
Amador raised her hand primly. As soon as Professor Borromeo acknowledged her, she looked right at me and said, “The split ushered in an age of darkness and ignorance in the human realm.” She’d repeated that directly from the text, putting forth the now-familiar story that Biringan was a utopian paradise while the human world was a mess. It was so one-sided. Impulsively, I raised my hand.
“Princess?” Professor Borromeo called on me, somewhat surprised that I’d volunteered to ask a question after how quiet and reluctant I’d been up to that point. “Do you have a comment?” she asked.
“It’s just that—” I paused, realizing there was no way for me to talk about my mother without giving away too much about my private life, so I changed tack. “Aren’t encantos guilty of some of the same atrocities as humans?”
If my classmates were drowsing off before, they weren’t now. The air in the room changed completely. Everyone perked up, probably curious how the professor would respond to such an inflammatory question. A couple of them shook their heads in disgust. Most of them stared at me, in shock. I knew it was a provocative thing to say. I didn’t know it would be quite so shocking to everyone, though.
I looked at Professor Borromeo, expecting to see anger or disappointment. Instead, she looked excited. “Let’s explore what the princess said, shall we?” She began pacing around the room. “What do you all think? Are we as guilty as the humans?”
“No,” someone said from the back of the room. He was sitting back with his arms crossed, defensive. “That’s ridiculous.”
Then another voice piped up. “She has a point. We have war just as the humans do; we have murder. And what about the humans who can’t leave our world? The black rice, for example.”
“Nobody actually ‘tricks’ any human into eating the black rice. That’s absurd,” someone added.
“Yes, they do,” another said. “One of the shopkeepers in town, her father was human, and he was fooled into eating the black rice, and he was stuck here forever.”
“None of the shopkeepers are hapcantos,” someone scoffed.
“Class! Please remember to raise your hands before speaking.” Professor Borromeo tried, hopelessly, to rein everyone in and maintain some kind of decorum. But no one seemed to hear her. They were all turned in their seats, interrupting one another.
“They have to stay because we need to protect ourselves. They shouldn’t rejoin humanity knowing we exist and jeopardize our safety!” someone called out, at the same time as another said, “Don’t tell me you believe we kidnap humans against their will. They’re trespassers. They want to be here. They eat the rice on purpose so we can’t kick them out.” To that, the youngest in the class, a small girl who usually sat in the corner desk, nervously twisting the ends of her hair, said, “I don’t think that’s fair.”
The arguments took up the rest of the class time. I don’t think we ever came anywhere near an agreement. I wasn’t even sure what I thought anymore—having seen both worlds now, I could safely say neither one was entirely innocent or guilty. When we were dismissed, Professor Borromeo stopped me on my way out the door. “I just wanted to tell you...” she began. I felt like I was about to be reprimanded. But then she continued, “I really appreciate your thought-provoking contribution today. It really started a lively discussion.”
“Oh, thanks,” I said.
“I hope you’ll continue to pose difficult questions,” Professor Borromeo called after me as I walked out the door.
I got to my next class, Pagkahari at Paggalang, before Amador and Lucas. A relief. I hated walking in while they stared at me, Amador inevitably whispering something rude to him while he smirked and doodled on his parchment. I was able to get situated before they sauntered in. Amador tried to stare me down, but I pretended like I didn’t even notice she was there, focusing on reviewing my notes instead. She made lots of noise and let out her shrillest giggle in an attempt to make me look up. It didn’t work. Then Nix arrived and took the seat next to mine, saving me from any more of Amador’s pathetic theatrics.
“Hey,” Nix said cheerfully. “So. Are you ready for our official royal training?”
“You know it.”
“They’ll turn us into proper senoritas one of these days.”
“I sure hope not. I kind of enjoy being a teenage dirtbag.”
Nix laughed. Amador got quiet all of a sudden. I sneaked a glance at her. She was digging through the glittery tote she always carried at school, as if she was super intent on finding something lost at the bottom. But really, she was trying to eavesdrop on our conversation.
Professor Manatubay cleared his throat at the front of the room. I hadn’t even noticed him until then. We all stopped what we were doing and sat up straight in our desks. He had that effect on people. “Today we are going to practice proper etiquette when meeting with emissaries from other courts.” There was a barely detectable collective groan. He ignored it (or didn’t notice) and went on: “We’ll work through a series of scenarios in pairs.” Amador nudged Lucas, indicating they’d work together. Professor Manatubay did not see that, though. “I’ve taken the liberty of choosing your partners already, to better portray real-life situations.”
Amador made a pouty face. I was surprised she didn’t stomp her feet, too.
“Once I call your names, please find your partner.” He started going through a list. I listened as the small class was paired off, dismayed as the names quickly dwindled. “Phoenix, you’ll work with Amador. Lucas, you’ll work with the princess.” Figured. Nix and I exchanged a look.
Neither of our assigned partners made a move to join us, so Nix and I stood and went to the front of the room, taking the two desks behind them. Amador turned around and smiled at Nix. “Let’s make this as painless as possible, shall we?”
“That’s totally up to you,” Nix said, giving her an equally fake smile in return. Amador didn’t understand that Nix was insulting her.
Lucas still had his back turned to me. He was putting the final touches on one of his drawings. I tried to take a peek at it without being too obvious, expecting something stereotypically masculine, like a video game character or whatever the equivalent might be in Biringan. Instead, I was surprised to see a detailed floral pattern, a vine of sampaguita flowers. He dropped the quill and turned around to face me. I looked down at my own notes. Hopefully he didn’t notice I’d been looking.
“Let’s sit in the back,” he said.
“Oh, okay.” I was surprised he wanted to be separated from his precious Amador. He got up, and I followed his lead. Amador watched us, a protest forming on her lips, and was stopped by the professor’s watchful eye.
We stood side by side near two desks. Professor Manatubay announced the assignment. “Imagine that you and your partner are both heirs of rival houses. It doesn’t matter which two. You meet for an official dinner at a neutral location. In other words, this is a social event, not a political event. When you arrive, you find your seat, as indicated by the place cards on the table. To your dismay, you are sitting next to your sworn enemy.” I couldn’t help but notice he looked directly at me when he said that. “To show contempt could be interpreted as an act of hostility. How will you behave? Proceed in three... two... one.”
Lucas and I looked at each other. Now what? Neither of us seemed to know who was supposed to make the first move.
“If I’m not mistaken, you outrank me,” he pointed out.
“Right,” I said. “I knew that.”
He smiled out of the corner of his mouth. Like he was saying, Sure you did . I hated how stupid he made me feel. How defensive. “Therefore,” he went on, “if we’re in an official social situation, I’m supposed to genuflect.” He bowed deeply to me. It made me uncomfortable, despite the fact that everyone else in the room was doing the same thing. I noticed Professor Manatubay making his rounds, watching everyone. He looked over at me and Lucas. I had to play along if I wanted credit for the activity.
I curtsied slightly and nodded to Lucas. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Sir Lucas,” I said.
He pulled out my chair. “Princess,” he said, gesturing that I should sit.
So gallant. I couldn’t help but notice how his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and the dark swoop of his hair over his brow. Ew, stop it, I thought. He’s dating that skank who probably sent the insurgents to kill you. “Thank you,” I said as coldly as I could, with my nose in the air. I sat at the desk; he took his seat, too. Professor Manatubay approached, so I had to think of something polite to say to Lucas. “Are you having a terribly rainy season in the, um, in the Court of Sigbin?”
“Actually, we’ve had some beautiful days. You should come and see it sometime.” Lucas had a twinkle in his eye. As much as I hated him, I had to admit, he knew how to be charming.
“I don’t venture out of my kingdom very often,” I replied. Professor Manatubay loomed over us.
“Understandable. You must be very busy. Hope you’re able to get out and enjoy this lovely weather, at least.”
“I try to walk in the gardens every night.” I wasn’t even sure why I said that. I didn’t actually get to walk in the gardens in the evening, though I did want to. I felt like I had revealed something about myself somehow or worse, like I’d extended an invitation.
Professor Manatubay must have been satisfied with our progress because he moved on from us and went to hover over Amador and Nix, who appeared to be completely ignoring each other.
“Ah, yes. I’ve had the privilege of visiting the exquisite Court of Sirena gardens,” Lucas said. “They were a favorite of mine as a child.”
I had no idea how to respond. I suddenly had an image of little Lucas running around in the place I now called home, making memories long before I ever knew it existed—having a childhood that could have been mine. What if we had grown up together? Would I be his Amador now? Did I want to be?
Ew, why did I keep thinking like that?
He was staring at me, waiting. I shook my head to rid myself of the thoughts. Confusion crossed over his face briefly. “Uh, yes, they are amazing. Quite spectacular,” I added, trying to sound fancy. I needed to change the subject, away from the weather and our backyards. “How are your parents doing?” Mundane enough.
Lucas pulled back, brow furrowed. He looked down at the desk and began tapping his fingers on it. “Wow. That was pretty low,” he said. “Even for you.”
“Excuse me?” I was totally taken aback.
“You didn’t have to bring my parents into this,” he said sternly. “I don’t know what your problem is with me—”
“Excuse me?” I repeated, nearly shouting. The partners at the nearest desk turned their heads toward us. I lowered my voice. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just playing along with this stupid game.”
“Oh, please,” he snarled at me. “As if you don’t know that my parents are dead.”
I felt like I was hit in the gut. “Oh! Lucas, I swear I didn’t.” I wanted to crawl under the table. I was so embarrassed. “I wouldn’t have said something like that if I knew. I mean, my dad just died.”
“You didn’t even know your father,” Lucas shot back. “You only showed up to claim your inheritance. My mom died when I was born, and when my dad died last year, he was all I had.”
“Wow,” I exclaimed. “You don’t even know me. You know nothing about me, in fact. Less than nothing.” I was tempted to bring up my mother and how she was still in the hospital, clinging to life, but I didn’t owe him that piece of me. “But you should know that I’m only here because I was forced to be here in order to avoid a war with your stupid, stuck-up court.”
The room was silent. Every single person, including Professor Manatubay, was staring at us. Lucas was red in the face and looked like he wanted to punch something.
“Told you,” Amador said to Lucas from across the room.
Told him what? Before I could ask, Professor Manatubay put his hands in the air and shouted, “Enough!”
Lucas and I turned away from each other and sat forward with our arms crossed. I kind of felt like punching something, too. I had no intention of starting a fight or hurting Lucas, no matter how much I disliked him.
“I’ll see you after class,” Professor Manatubay said to me. “As for the rest of you, the exercise is complete. Gather your things and prepare to be dismissed.”
Minutes later, once everyone had left the room, the professor approached me. Before he could say anything, I said, “I didn’t know about Lucas’s parents.”
“Maybe you didn’t; maybe you did,” he said, infuriating me further. “However, it doesn’t matter. Your role as ruler of the Court of Sirena includes knowing everything about everyone and navigating a minefield of possible blunders gracefully.”
“I just got here,” I said. It wasn’t fair. I was always expected to adjust to new places, new people, new rules.
“Yes, you did,” he said. “And now that you’re here, what have you done?”
I didn’t answer him. He was being hard on me, and to say I didn’t appreciate it was an understatement. I had enough on my plate already, learning about this place, adjusting to their rules, trying to prove myself worthy of the throne. I’d done a lot, as far as I was concerned.
“You’re dismissed,” he said. “Think about what I’ve said.”
I got up and left the room without another word. Yeah, I’d think about what he said. I think it’s ridiculous.
My other classes were, thankfully, uneventful. No one seemed to know what happened that morning, but it was only a matter of time before I became the academy’s main villain. The new girl, who thinks she’s just going to waltz in and claim the throne, decided to take a shot at poor orphaned Lucas. Great. That would help my already precarious social standing. Gossip like that was too juicy, and the situation so easy and satisfying to judge. One more example of how ethereal teenage beings weren’t all that different from their human counterparts.
I was relieved when it was finally time for lunch. The best thing about BANA was the cafeteria. We sat at formal, round tables, and there was no line for food. Instead, all the dishes magically appeared, steaming hot and delicious, as soon as we sat down. Today was grill day—chicken inasal, pork barbecue, with heaps of garlic rice and vinegary achara. My mouth watered.
As soon as we started eating, I expected Nix to ask me about what happened. Instead, she said, “What do you say, after school, we go explore the city?”
I wanted to, for sure. I needed to forget about the unpleasantness this morning that I had caused. I would never hurt anyone deliberately. The only question was how to get there without an entourage following me around. “Not sure how I’d get away,” I told her.
“Easy. Tell them we’re staying after to study, and to pick you up later. Once they’re gone, we’ll walk into town and get back in time for them to pick you up.”
I couldn’t see why not. And more than anything, it felt good to think about doing something normal. “Okay,” I agreed with a shrug.
“Yay!” Nix clapped her hands. “I’ve been dying to check out some of the new boutiques. You won’t believe the stuff they have here. Makes Rodeo Drive look like a discount mart.”
Nix gushed about every shop she’d been to in the main Market District, in the downtown district of Biringan, and how much better everything was than at home, especially the food. “If you think this is good,” she said, motioning to the stew and halo-halo I was drooling over, “wait until you try the food in town. I’ll bring you to the lumpia vendor, oh my god. To die for.”
An hour later, having done exactly as she’d advised, we were on our way to town in a hired carriage. I wasn’t even bothered by the ongoing coronation activity that surrounded us. I was too giddy with freedom and the promise of friendship, something I’d been without for such a long time. I even forgot the entire drama with Lucas. Along the way, Nix told me all about the different places she’d explored on her own before I arrived in Biringan. Her excitement was contagious. “And we have to stop at Dona Ximena’s, you will not believe the cloaks she makes. She also has the best shoes. For jewelry, we have to go to Kumikinang. The owner is also half-human, like us.”
Up ahead, around a bend in the road that led into the hills, a row of buildings emerged before the entire town opened up in front of us. I don’t know what I was expecting—a medieval-style village, maybe—but it was better and stranger, in every way, than I could have imagined. Like the palace, the buildings were all cut out of the surrounding stone. Except they weren’t glittery like the geode surface of the castle. They were grittier, rougher, gray and brown and black streaked with white. The shop fronts had huge windows and smooth wood doors in a variety of shapes—no plain rectangles here. The doors had unique iron handles, too. In the shop windows, the displays moved around, featuring a parade of wares sort of like a commercial. There were carts selling food, with smoke rising from them, and a mix of savory and sweet scents filled the air. People walked in and out of the buildings, in long coats almost like the ones we wore to school, and there were also more fairies like the ones I’d seen the other day. But then I noticed more creatures, like a kapre with sharp fangs and large, leathery wings. He didn’t look friendly. There were also a few encantos in partial animal transformation. A feline pilipit and a wolf of some kind. I’d heard there were shape-shifters but, so far, hadn’t actually met any.
Nix laughed. “Your mouth is hanging open,” she said.
I shut it. “Sorry.”
“Anyway, where do you want to go first?”
I couldn’t possibly choose. “Up to you.”
“I was hoping you’d say that!” She grabbed my hand and dragged me faster along the road. A carriage rumbled by. The man driving raised his hat to us. I waved with my free hand.
“Don’t do that!” Nix reprimanded me. “He’ll think you’re flagging him down.”
She pulled me toward a shoe store. In the window, boots in different heights—with no heel and high heels and everything in between, and even toe styles from square to round to pointy—swirled around.
When we walked inside, I was shocked. Instead of shelves full of shoes, there were only two pairs on display: plain black boots and a pair of flats. I didn’t see a salesperson anywhere.
“Watch this.” Nix walked over to a full-length mirror. “Come here,” she said.
I went and looked in the mirror. I saw our reflections staring back.
“Now grab whichever footwear you need and bring them here.”
I didn’t need (or like) either one, but I grabbed the flats and went back to the mirror.
“Look down,” Nix said.
The flats were on my feet. “Whoa!”
“What’s your favorite color?” she asked.
Before the word made it from my brain to my mouth, the shoes turned purple. I started laughing. “That’s wild!” I moved my feet around, and in my reflection the shoes did, too.
“Do you like stiletto heels?” Nix asked.
Not necessarily, but I pictured them on my feet, and they appeared in the mirror.
“I could do this all day,” I said, admiring my reflection.
A fairy walked out of the back room. I noticed her taking in Nix’s shabby school robes before she even noticed who I was.
“Let’s go to the hat shop,” Nix said abruptly. She took the shoes from me and put them back on the shelf, then dragged me out the door and down the street, past shape-shifters—manananggals who were flying around without their lower halves, and a group of what looked like male sirenas, judging by the gills and shimmering scales on their necks, who were walking on land for a change.
“Berberoka,” Nix whispered in my ear. Swamp creatures who drowned the unsuspecting. “Steer clear.”
A couple seconds later, she pointed at a shop. The sign in the window said Althea’s Apothecary .
“Althea is my friend,” Nix told me. “If you ever need anything, go to her. Or summon her to the palace. She makes house calls.”
We stopped and cupped our hands over the glass to peek in the window. There were two women standing side by side with their backs to us, looking at a display of herbs and bottled liquids. One had wavy salt-and-pepper gray hair all the way down her back and wore a long, brightly colored cotton skirt. She reminded me of an old hippie from back home. The other was holding a baby.
“That’s Althea,” Nix said, motioning to the gray-haired hippie.
Althea put her arm around the mother, who appeared to be crying by the way her shoulders were shaking. I noticed she was cradling the baby in her arms. Then Althea walked around to the other side of the display, picked up one of the bottles, and wrapped it up in brown paper. She closed it with some twine and held it out to the mother, who seemed to be protesting taking the package. But Althea insisted and the mother accepted, thanking her profusely.
“I told you she was nice. She helps people whether they can afford it or not. Like me,” she said as we entered the store.
“You?”
Nix shrugged. “Not all of us can live in the palace.”
I thought of her frayed uniform and felt abashed that I had never offered to help. I never thought she needed any—she was so confident and self-contained. “Oh, Nix... if you ever need anything... I’m so sorry...”
Nix laughed and dismissed my concern. “It’s fine, I’m fine! Mostly thanks to Althea, who helped me get settled here.”
The mother with the baby turned around to leave, so we moved on before they caught us watching them. Althea noticed Nix, though, and greeted her warmly. “How are you, sweetheart?” she asked.
“I’m okay,” Nix replied, beaming.
Althea smiled. “You figured out that spell that was giving you trouble?”
Nix laughed. “Yeah, I was pronouncing it wrong.” She turned and introduced me. “This is my friend MJ.”
Althea bowed. “It’s good to have you back, Princess.”
I still wasn’t used to people bowing to me, so I bowed back. “Thank you.”
The old healer scrutinized my face. “You have her eyes. Your mother’s. She was a good friend to me.”
I flushed with pleasure to know someone who knew her. “Did you? When she lived here?”
Althea nodded.
I wanted to ask more questions, but Nix was already out the door. I followed reluctantly, thinking I would have time to talk to Althea in the future. Even though my mother taught me its history, she never spoke much of her time in Biringan.
On our right, there was a tavern or restaurant of some kind, the busiest place I’d seen so far. It was similar to our school cafeteria—lots of glass tables of customers being served huge plates of food. But there was also a bar, cut from quartz, where people stood around talking and drinking from mugs and teacups and tall, skinny glasses. Maybe we could stop in there, get something to drink. I was starting to feel like I needed to tell someone about my talent, or lack thereof. And maybe this was a good opportunity to confide my secret to Nix. She might have some ideas, either to help me discover my power or at least how to fake it.
“Wait!” I shouted, yanking Nix back a couple steps.
She looked alarmed. “What is it?”
I didn’t answer. I leaned against the front window, gazing inside. Way in the back of the tavern, I saw him . I was right. It was Lucas.
He was having a heated argument with someone—no, multiple someones. A group of men—who all appeared to be human—stood across from him, fists clenched, one of them yelling back at him.
Suddenly, Lucas drew his arm back and punched one of the men right in the face. Nix and I both gasped, watching as Lucas pummeled the men one right after the other, throwing one of them up against the bar, where he hit his head and crumpled to the floor. Another bent forward, holding his belly, after Lucas kicked him square in the stomach.
“Let’s go,” I told Nix. I’d seen enough. As if I hadn’t hated Lucas already, now he was starting fights in taverns and beating people up. Vulnerable human beings who might even have been prisoners in this realm.