Free The Liars by Heraa Hashmi

giggle from most, if not all, occupants of the room. Memory tried smile given his attempt to save face but nothing to save her now. She was going to die here.
    “Elliot, I think she’s frozen. But she needs to eat. Bring her here.”
    The man who’d helped her gently took her by the arm and held her to where Prince Cassian was waiting and set her down. He then took his place across from her, and when she looked at him, the thanks she was about to say died in her throat.
    Why, exactly, is he not the poster child of every clothing brand out there?
    She stared at him unblinkingly. He definitely looked related to Prince Cassian, but there was no way anyone a part of the royal family could be that good looking. No, good looking didn’t even justify it. He was ethereal. Unreal.
    Great. Now I’ve gone mad.
    And the woman sitting next to him? She was unbelievably gorgeous. It was like she wore no makeup and yet managed to out shine every other person in the room. She was an angel descendant from heaven itself.
    And then she opened her mouth.
    “Ah, well, I don’t have to worry about anything, then.” Her voice was high-pitched, like chalk on chalkboard. She was one of the women who’d tried to get into her room.
    Tangerine? No. Tourmaline.
    Memory nodded, trying to smile. “Aunt Tourmaline.”
    “I suppose your famed beauty was exaggerated, was it not, Tsavorite?”
    Memory turned to Tsavorite, who was situated next to Tourmaline. She smiled.
    “No, she’s lovely.” Her eyes began to tear up. “It is like a dream. I would have never thought that Jade, our Jade, would return.”
    Tsavorite–or Aunt Tsavorite, she would be called–wasn’t as beautiful as Tourmaline but her voice wasn’t as annoying, and she seemed to have some modicum of sanity. And she was being nice.
    Gotta give points there.
    “Ah yes, she is.” The man sitting next to Memory agreed, and actually ruffled her hair. Her jaw dropped, horrified, but Cassian pinched her.
    “Uncle Chrysander.” He murmured quietly, and Memory relaxed.
    “Prince Cassian,” Uncle Chrysander started with a strong voice, “Do let us know how you found her.” His lips twitched, and Memory was briefly reminded of Bryan.
    Prince Cassian nodded obediently, launching into a dull story which sounded like he was reciting from a script, while Memory tried to eat. The food was no doubt good, but she just couldn’t taste it very well. Her nervousness overwhelmed her.
    She simply watched everyone at the tabl e. There was uncle Chrysander, Prince Cassian’s only uncle as far as she knew, aunt Tourmaline ( Tangerine is a better name ), aunt Tsavorite, prince Edward, the handsome dude named Elliot but she had no idea who he was, the weird woman who’d complimented her nose of all things, and two others. One was a little girl in a frilly blue dress with a permanent sneer on her face, and the other was a redhead. Red hair. And green eyes. Was she Uncle Chrysander’s wife? Or Elliot’s? No, Elliot looked Prince Cassian’s age. But this was a strange family with strange traditions.
    In one word, dinner was suffocating . Even the roasted lobster, clams, and snails didn’t do much to help her appetite.
    And when Prince Cassian excused himself, Memory went with him, clinging to his arm. He smiled at her but once outside the dining hall he shrugged her arm away.
    “What?”
    “I. Almost. Died.” She took a deep breath, her heart beating almost two hundred times per minute. “They’re all crazies. I can’t survive.”
    “That was the hardest part.” Prince Cassian said. “From now on, do the work you need to do. You can spend your time in your room, if you wish…as long as you meet Queen Beryl.”
    Right. Your grandmother.
    “But – but – I can’t!” She threw her hands into the air. “I don’t know these people.” Her eyes darted towards all the maids and waiters walking around in the halls and immediately added, “I mean, I feel like I don’t know these