Free The Princess Trap by Kirsten Boie Page A

stopping,” he said.
    “I don’t think you’d have been waiting for me, son, if you didn’t have something important to tell me,” said Liron.
    Jonas nodded. “It’s about Jenna,” he said. He felt himself turning red — it was the heat, that’s all, he told himself. “I’m worried about her, Liron. She … It’s getting worse all the time.”
    “Tell me,” said Liron, taking off his jacket and hanging it over his arm.
    “I don’t know everything that’s going on,” said Jonas. “The boys’ wing and girls’ wing are kept pretty separate, so I only see her occasionally, when we’re out of school. But it’s obvious that she’s more and more miserable. And she’s got no friends; not one. I get the feeling that the other girls are being deliberately mean to her. Why did her mother have to send her here of all places — the worst school she could possibly go to?”
    “Because until a year or so ago, she was just an ordinary girl — in fact, a poor girl — and now suddenly she’s supposed to be a princess. Morgard will educate her for her new life. She has to learn to adapt. I’m afraid we can’t let her change schools. The only person who may be able to help her is you.”
    There’s nothing I’d rather do , thought Jonas.
    Every so often, another car would drive past them, raising a cloud of dust. Liron took a couple of steps onto the grass, which despite the heat wave was still a shiny green.
    “There are plenty of people who’ll do anything they can to make a fool of her, Jonas. In public, too, if possible. If they make her look like a mockery, it’ll help them to undermine the authority of the royal family. And they’re using every method at their disposal to do precisely that. Jenna is just a means to an end.” He looked around. “But they’re planning something much bigger than just humiliating the royal family, Jonas. I’m sure of it. There are more and more signs.”
    “Who are?” asked Jonas. “What are you talking about?”
    Liron stopped. There was no one on the lawn, and there were no trees or bushes nearby in which someone might have planted a listening device. It was safe to talk. “All those behind the plot against Magnus.”
    “But that was Norlin’s plot!” said Jonas. “ He was the one who kidnapped the king! He was power-hungry, you said so yourself! He wanted to be king, or at least viceroy.”
    “True, Norlin was power-hungry,” said Liron. “But on his own he never could have … Think about it, Jonas: Who exploited Norlin’s regency? Who would have benefited if it had gone on any longer?”
    “You mean the rich southerners, like Bolström,” murmured Jonas. “So where do you think they all are now?”
    Liron shrugged his shoulders. “We don’t know exactly who else was involved in last year’s plot against the king. Bolström and Norlin fled the country, and we didn’t know who else to interrogate in order to find out. But there are still traitors in Scandia, Jonas, cheering the king, clinking their champagne glasses with him at the palace, dancing across the lawns at Osterlin during his summer balls, and making speeches about how wonderful it is to have justice across the land and free elections! But take my word for it, secretly they’re all hoping to turn back the clock and reverse the reforms, and they may well have been hatching their plans for months.”
    “I guess I should have expected it,” said Jonas. “Why would they want to give up their privileges? It would be a miracle if they did.”
    “You see where I’m coming from, then,” said Liron.
    “At school the rumor’s that you’re in league with the rebels,” murmured Jonas. “They think I can’t hear what they’re saying — or maybe they want me to hear. They say it’s government by and for the north, and that you never broke off your contact with the rebels.”
    Liron’s cell phone rang, and he reached for it in his jacket pocket.
    “Liron!” Jonas pressed. “Is it