Once An Eve Novel

so many days listening to her choked coughs, terrified when the room was silent for too long. She’d never felt further away than she did now, my only connection to her broken. “Princess?” The soldier repeated. He rested his hand on my shoulder, startling me. “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing,” I said, pressing the button for the bottom floor again. “I just need to speak with the King.”

twenty-one
     
    THE KING WAS AT A CONSTRUCTION SITE, WORKING ON A building at the edge of the City center. When he couldn’t be reached, I demanded to be taken to him.
    The car zipped down the empty street, past the massive City buildings. The fountains beside the Palace rocketed up into the air, spraying passersby with a fine mist. The view didn’t hold any wonder for me now. I thought only of the smug smile on Clara’s face as she told me about the affair. All those days at School, even the loneliest ones when I’d just arrived, I’d always had those memories of my mother. They’d stayed with me on the road, in the dugout, in the back of Fletcher’s truck, even after the chaos of the cellar. But now everything was corrupted by Clara’s words.
    We turned right up a long driveway, toward a giant green building with a gold lion in front. The soldiers escorted me out of the car. Above the entrance was another giant billboard, like the one in the mall, flashing different announcements. A picture of two lions came up, the words THE GRAND ZOO: OPENING NEXT MONTH! beneath it. “This way,” one of the soldiers said, leading me inside.
    Three soldiers stood at the entrance to the main lobby. The giant room was sweltering, the air smelling of sweat and smoke. Spotlights illuminated different sections of the dark corridor. A few yards ahead, a boy was kneeling over a bucket. He was a year or two younger than me, his bare back dripping with sweat as he worked, smoothing wet plaster over the wall. He looked up, his face thin and sad. “He should be over here,” the other soldier said, picking up his pace, his hand coming down around my arm as he ushered me quickly toward another hall.
    I turned back, noticing two boys my age who were stapling down carpet. An older worker, maybe twenty, walked slowly down the corridor, carrying a giant wooden crate. When he passed one of the spotlights I made out his face, gaunt and sickly, his eyes sunk back into his skull. His shoulder bore the same tattoo as Caleb’s. Somewhere above us a terrible drilling sound split the air.
    “Where is he?” I said, my voice flat. I walked faster, with purpose, thinking of all the boys in the dugout.
    The soldiers strode in front of me, toward a glowing blue light. They glanced at one another, their faces uncertain, unsure if they should’ve brought me here or not. “Genevieve,” a voice called out. Two figures appeared at the end of the hallway, silhouetted by the light. “What are you doing here?”
    “I needed to speak with you,” I said. The King was standing with Charles, who looked momentarily happy, his smile disappearing when he saw my face. I pushed past them, into the wide room. An eerie light filled the space. The walls were all glass, forming several enclosures with plants and giant, fake rocks.
    “Would you give us a minute?” the King said finally. The men’s footsteps receded down the hall. He stepped beside me, facing a tank filled with yellow grass. High above, a mountain lion lay out on a flat rock, its ribs jutting out of its side.
    “She told me,” I said, not turning to meet his gaze. “Clara told me about your wife. She said my mother was your mistress.” My entire body felt hot. “Is that true?”
    The King turned back to the corridor, where Charles and the soldiers had left. “This isn’t the best time to talk about this,” he said. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
    “There will never be a good time to talk about it.” I stared at him. “You didn’t want me to come here because you don’t want me—or anyone—to see how all of your projects are built.”
    His face flushed and his eyes went dark. He rubbed at his forehead, as if trying to calm himself. “I understand you’re angry,” he said. “Clara shouldn’t have said anything. It was not her place.”
    He turned and walked the length of the room, his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t like that word— mistress . I know how it sounds and it wasn’t the case. When I met your mother I was separated from my wife.” He paused in front