It's Hesparian Hares day, also known as the Unfathomable Switcheroo Day.

(At least, in my head.)

With our days numbered between the Crescenta dinner and the game, Zelda and Durante hatched a haphazard plan which they called Operation Hannah Montana (okay, I called it that, because I am very funny and I need humour in this situation right now!), that involves me and several almost comic costume changes. It's crude, purely reliant on my ability to go fast, but every other option we explored wouldn't work. A double would easily be spotted by Roy, who sits on the other side of the limo prodding his teeth with a toothpick, and Rudy, giving him futile direction about where the random raisin skin is stuck. Not going was out of the question. This is my last resort.

My stomach pulses with dread. If this goes wrong… if I make even a slight slip-up…

"Did I get it?" Roy's words puncture the silence.

"No," Rudy grouses, dropping his shoulders. "For goodness sake, would you let me do it?"

"I can get it!" he insists.

Zelda, opposite me, massages her temple. "I told you not to eat that muffin, Uncle Roy."

"In my defence, it was a good muffin."

Durante, on my left, and Aderyn, on my right, say nothing. They hide it well, but I know both are as nervous as I am. Their jobs are on the line if this fails. So is Durante's relationship. He fixes me a sidelong glance, which I return, but Roy and Rudy's bickering fills the cabin until the convoy pulls up to the front doors of the rink. Glendale Ice Rink.

It's different with us here. Glendale looks only marginally improved since the first time I was here – thanks to the All-Stars' success and the Almond sponsorship – but it's still a ways to go before it's out of the red zone forever. Yet the car park is almost rammed, even though the game isn't to start in three hours, and eager cameras flash in our direction. Red cord separates off the area for us to alight, and when the door opens, I look around and pretend to take in the sight for the first time, breathe that definitely unfamiliar air of iciness and track and tyre marks as the sun hangs below the horizon.

Durante waits in the car. He leans out to me. "I'll be inside in a moment. Keep Aderyn close."

The limo moves on, allowing the next two to deliver the Elite gentlemen. I head inside just as Kingsley steps out, lavishing in the attention. Bodyguards surround us as we make our way inside.

"Are you sure about this, Gail?" Aderyn whispers, dressed formally in a pencil skirt and blazer, glued to my side with her hands balled together. "It's not too late to… to reconsider."

"Reconsider what?" I ask her in hushed tones, Roy's closeness is a needle in my back. "I have to play, Aderyn, and I have to watch, too. This will work." It has to.

She nods, and says nothing else as we're met by the owner of Glendale Ice Rink, Mike Damocles, a portly man with a huge moustache. I've never met him in person, only heard of him through the other hockey girls and Bellona, but it's funny that I've been playing at this rink for so many months, but one visit as Princess Gail is all it takes for him to greet me personally.

We pose for the press before heading inside. I've never seen the lobby so rammed – not even when the second team was open for try-outs. Durante and the security detail cut us a direct path along several corridors and a private sector of the rink until we're at the doors to a box, fairly close to the bottom, along the length of the rink. This is the box Bellona and the managers occupied during the try-outs, I remember, protectively hidden behind glass.

The seats aren't entirely filled, but there's a good number of hardcore hockey fans already here. Some of them have banners – many Selection-related.

"Your Highness," Kingsley says, gesturing down to where the Elite are posted at the back of the box. "I insist you sit next to me for the match. I would love to have your fine eye of understanding at my side."

All the boys seem eager for this. Next to Kingsley, I'll be surrounded by all of them. It'll make a great statement of solidarity. But I smile. "Sorry, Kingsley, I agreed to sit with my brother today."

"Very well," Kingsley acquiesces, plonking himself down, "but if you do change your mind, the seat next to me is always vacant."

It literally is. The two hockey nerds, Soren and Ben, have taken up the corner. Yamato is on the highest tier, next to Sheng, both of whom I know are trying to look interested for my sake. Even Silas, Kajika and Max are pointing and muttering to one another. Kingsley is alone.

Has it always been like that? Has Kingsley never truly had friends? I've seen him hanging out with other Selected boys, but it never seemed like he was close with any of them, and he certainly wasn't close to the catty models he brought with him to the Prime Minister's Banquet.

Max stands suddenly and makes his way over to me, hands in his pockets. "Can we talk?"

"Now's not really a good time," I say, even though I know exactly what he wants to discuss. But I relent to the worry in his expression. "Okay, quickly."

With Naomi shadowing, we talk up in the stands.

"I know you're going through with your plan, no matter what," he says at first, gaze askance, "but… do you really think it's a good idea? With the Resurgence knowing your name?"

"You've continued doing their dirty work?"

"I did the hit for them the other night, yes," he admits.

Roy's words come back to me. Small, but frequent attacks. Max must be part of it unwittingly. I breathe out slowly through my nose to process. "Then they can't touch Susanetta, can they?"

"Won't, not can't."

"What reason would they have to? They don't gain anything by exposing you. They only lose the link you have to the palace."

"What if they decide I'm no longer useful?"

That I don't know. I tear my eyes away from his diminished expression. Even without Max's involvement, Durante saw fit to include the Resurgence in his security plan. Even if something happens tonight, when I'm on the rink, he has it covered. Everything will work. I just have to play my best.

And hope for the best.

With Max's warning ringing in his head, I settle back into my seat next to Roy. I try to relax, but nerves are beginning to crawl out of their hiding places and travel up my skin. Even forgetting Operation Hannah Montana, the Resurgence, anything royal-related, the Hesparian Hares are the most accomplished team we've faced to date. Will we beat them today? Can we? It was already too close with the Fresno Frogs, but the finals – the cup – is so close I can almost taste it.

I pass the time by allowing Roy, and Zelda and Rudy, to rattle into my ear, but my mind is hyper-focused, and my heart palpitates in my chest, that I can barely listen.

"— explain the rules to me," Roy is saying to Zelda, who is sitting below us next to Rudy. "I don't get anything about hockey."

"There is puck," Zelda explains slowly. "Puck get hit by team. Puck go in goal. Team scores."

Roy rolls his eyes. "Helpful."

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I nearly launch out of my seat. T-minus two hours until the game. Time to go.

"Are you okay, Gail?" Roy turns to me suddenly. "You seem a little… out of it."

"O-Oh, erm…" I gulp down my fears. Operation Hannah Montana. Here goes nothing. "I'm fine, really, I just— OWWWW!"

I lean down and clutch my stomach. All the Elite behind me go quiet.

"Gail!" Roy almost falls back down in his enthusiasm to stand. "Whoa, Gail, what's wrong?"

"Oooooh!" I cry. "Owwww! It hurts! It hurts!"

"Slow down! What hurts?"

"My stomach! I think… I think…" then I stare him dead in the eye and announce as loudly as I can, "I think it's my period."

Roy goes absolutely still for a moment.

"Oh. Well. That's bad timing." He sits back down and beckons his bodyguard forwards. "Good thing I always have the essentials on me."

Wait. What? "You— the essentials?"

The bodyguard hands Roy a rucksack, and Roy pulls out a discreet black make-up bag and hands it to me. "There you go. Cami's emergency supplies. Pads, tampons, the works. Painkillers too, if the cramps are hurting you badly. Get yourself cleaned up and come back quickly so you can tell me the rules better than Smart Alec down here."

No! He was supposed to be embarrassed! Not competent!

"Owwww!" I exaggerate a little more. "B-But this one is bad! Like, erm, really bad!"

"I mean, Cami gets bad ones sometimes. She usually pops a Tylenol. It's no big deal."

Roy has forced my hand. I must play my last card.

"I— I feel like I'm going to vomit! Do you have a sick bag in here?"

Roy's face goes ashen. Finally. "Shit, vomit? The hell is up with women's hormones? Miss Fowler, Officer Astrauskas," he calls to Aderyn and Naomi, "can you escort Gail to the bathroom?"

Aderyn rushes forwards enthusiastically just as half of the boys stand up.

"Would you like me to escort you as well, Your Highness?" asks Kingsley.

"No, thank you, Kingsley." I clutch my stomach. "OH, THE PAIN!"

Kingsley, grimacing, sits down. I glance quickly in Max's direction – he stifles a smile – and then hobble my way out of the private box, down the hallway, and into the closest restrooms. This whole section of the rink is cordoned off for our safety, and so the toilets are empty.

"Quick." Naomi tosses me my duffle bag. "I'll have to report back soon that you're too sick to leave the stall."

I slam the door shut and begin stripping off my dress. "Thank you."

"Also, I'm really glad you decided to become a hockey player. Not an actress."

Aderyn giggles. "It was patently awful, wasn't it?"

"Meanies!" I call as I change into my purple All-Stars sweater. Aderyn's quick fingers make light work of tucking my hair into a net, then wig. I put my contacts in as she layers on heavier make-up. Five minutes later, I am Susanetta Vivas.

"All right." Naomi inspects me, but when she finds nothing she beckons me towards the door. "We gotta' make this quick. If any of Roy's detail come to check on you, we're toast."

Aderyn takes my hands, squeezes. "Good luck. I'll be hoping for a win for your and Rose."

"You'll come meet her afterwards?"

"Of course!" She reddens. "B-Briefly. You're my priority."

I swallow my very clever yeah, right retort and head into the hallway behind Naomi. We thankfully meet no resistance. In fact, we meet absolutely nothing until the doors, the other side of which will be guarded, that lead to a main thoroughfare of traffic. Press, audience, everyone. I turn to Naomi.

"Thank you."

"If there's any problems, I'll text you. Keep an eye on your phone." She winks. "I'll be rooting for you and the team too. Smash it."

The two guards give me strange looks when I emerge from behind the doors, but Naomi shakes her head at them and mutters, "Player got lost," which seems to ease their worries. I melt into the mass of bodies to head towards the player area of the rink. Somewhere here, the Hesparian Hares are going through their final strategies and warm-ups, and the thought fuels me with determination.

I have to win. Not only for myself, Zelda and the team, but for Roy and the Elite too. Eventually, when this secret does come to light, they'll see I am capable of playing hockey as I am being a princess, too.

When I bustle into the changing room, most of the other girls are already dressed and stretching. Beverly and Felice are muttering to one another. Madison is meditating. Jocelyn and Wendy are haunting the whiteboard, already covered head to toe in Zelda's illustrations and diagrams, which she emailed to Bellona earlier, but Bellona herself isn't here, so I find my usual space and change as fast as I can.

"Cutting it kind of fine, aren't you, Baby Su?" Janet appears next to me, already covered in shin-pads and elbow guards. "We have royal presence, did you forget?"

"As if I could," I say, a more truthful statement that I'll ever make. "Where's Rose?"

"I thought she might've been with you."

It's unusual for Rose to be late, but I bury my doubts and change. By the time I'm done, Bellona enters the room and quickly hones in on me.

"Good. You're here. Your sister definitely too sick to make it?"

"She was throwing up when I left," I say. "I'm really sorry."

Bellona sighs. "We're not impervious, I know, but this is a bad time to be sick. We need her brains." She glances at the whiteboard, then back at me. "Seen Lamb?"

I shake my head. Bellona curses under her breath. "She's late—"

"I'm here! I'm here!"

Rose stumbles inside, breathless.

"I'm here, I've arrived! I'm so sorry I'm late!"

"Change quickly, Lamb," Bellona orders. "We begin in a few minutes."

She exits swiftly, but Rose hardly seems to notice, her grin fixed on me as she dumps her belongings. "Eeeee! I'm so excited!"

"Why? What's going on?"

"In the grand scheme of things, not much," she says to herself. "But to me it's important! My sister is here to watch! Mariam!"

Her delight makes me smile. "That's great, Rose! She's in the audience, then?"

"Yes! I should probably be more excited about the royal family, I know, but… oh, after the meet-and-greet, will you come say hi to her? She's been so eager to meet you after all the good things I've said about you! Addie, too! Though I can't see her in the box yet…"

I withhold the urge to wince, even though in this bulky helmet it's probably not noticeable. The meet-and-greet Susanetta has to skip; it's impossible any other way. But to make this work, I'll have to switch from Gail to Susanetta one more time, and I don't know if I'll be able to pull it off. "I-I hope so," I say instead, wanting to sound keen but non-committal.

"There's the meet-and-greet first," says Beverly, on the opposite side of the changing room. "We get to meet the princess!"

Janet laughs under her breath and nudges me. "Hah! I'll be first in line for Roy, if you know what I mean."

"… What?"

"He's such a DILF."

I frown. "What's a DILF?"

"Sheesh, Baby Su," Janet laughs. "It means Dad I'd like to—"

"Janet!" both Beverly and Rose cry.

"What? She asked!" Janet strokes her chin. "And obviously Roy's not as much a DILF as the Queen Camilla is a MILF but since she's not here, I have to take what I can get—"

The door swings open, cutting her off. Bellona strides inside, shushing the team as she approaches the board.

"All-Stars. We've a tough match today, our toughest yet. Less than two hours until the klaxon blows. Let's quickly run over our strategy before warm-up."

Bellona's hard words rouse me from my nerves. My hands, which were shaking to start, ease as they clutch the hockey stick and settle in their gloves.

"We have King Roy, Princess Gail and the Elite in the spectator's area today," Bellona says, hands clenched behind her back. A wholesome buzz ripples through the team. "I should hope we win today. If only to show them that an All-Star player never gives in."

Felice stamps her foot in gruff agreement.

"I would especially like to win for Princess Gail," Bellona says, causing my heart to bounce in my ribcage like a plastic ball. "Let's show her that why her support for us, and the sport, should be unwavering."

All this talk of Roy and me and the Elite makes my bones rattle beneath my skin. Every other match, I was nervous, brittle at the idea of facing another team of renown, but quietly determined to kick butt. Here, today, my stomach is green with illness, my breaths hot and sickly.

I'm playing to prove myself to Roy. I only get one chance – one real opportunity to show him what I'm made of. If I mess it up, it's game over for Susanetta Vivas' future here. For my future here. This cannot be the end.

Before long, the warm-up is over. "All in!" Felice roars.

The Angeles All-Stars skate into a circle and put hockey sticks in.

"You don't need me to give you some spiel," says Felice, grinning wickedly. "Let's do what we do best and give them hell. All-Stars!"

"All-Stars!"

The Hesparian Hares are much like their namesakes – speedy, nimble, sharp on their toes and quick at reacting. Ice churns with each spiral turn, each dribble of the puck in the toes of their hockey sticks. I sweat just trying to keep up, pushing my stamina to its absolute limit before the first period is even over. Felice gets net twice, but so do the Hares, bringing us to an equal score. Two all.

I stumble into the changing room and check my phone. A text from Naomi.

Eagle One suspects nothing. I had to give him a long explanation about how loudly you were vomiting before he stopped pressing me with questions. Some of the Hatchlings worried about you. Nest waiting in the bathroom.

Nice moves, btw.

I send a quick acknowledgement to her. All is well so far. Bless the Elite worrying about me, though. I wish they wouldn't. For the first twenty minutes I've managed to avoid looking up at the box if only to stay focused, but knowing their eyes are on me without realising… I can't help but grin to myself as I stow away my phone.

"Wipe that smile off your face, Vivas," Bellona commands. "That was tough."

"We're on even scores," points out Jocelyn.

"Yeah, and you had to work your butts off to keep up." She approaches the board. "We need to adapt, and fast." She hesitates at the board a moment, before diagrams flourish in pen.

Only then does it hit me how important Zelda is to the team. She was asked to shadow Bellona for a reason. Helming the strategy talks is one of Zelda's greatest joys. She loves it. So maybe it's one of Bellona's biggest weaknesses, even though she pushes through with new ideas, bouncing them between us, with ease.

"Vivas," she says to me, snaring my attention and my fears, but she simply says, "Keep it up."

I think that might be the first time – ever – that Bellona hasn't found something about my playstyle to critique. We return to the rink, and before the klaxon blows, I find myself glancing at the box, to my family. Behind the glass, I spot Zelda and Durante giving me discreet thumbs-up. Max waves with two fingers. The other boys have scattered their focus on the other players, the Hares, the rest of the rink – Kingsley has pulled out a mirror and is admiring himself. Rudy is gesticulating to one of the guards.

Then there's Roy. I've known him my whole life, well enough to know when he's pretending to pay attention. Head titled to one side, bobbing in time with his breath, gaze faraway. I know he's not interested in hockey. I know he doesn't care who wins, one way or the other. I know he probably has better things to do, and I know I'm not at his side to keep him company.

But still. Something fragile inside me breaks.

The klaxon blows. I turn inwards and that feeling, that listlessness, allows me to power my strides as I steal the puck from the Hares. A pass, two, back to me, and I score. The home crowd cheers, and I look back again, to Roy politely clapping but clearly disinterested.

So I keep doing it. I devour his boredom, turn it into something else, let it push me to score, again and again. Each minute takes a lifetime. I tire but try not to show it; I have to keep it up. I play hard, I play risky. It pays off. By the time the second period is over, we're six-four to them, but I'm also exhausted.

"Sheesh, Baby Su," Janet remarks back in the changing room, "will you leave some goals for the rest of us?"

"Susanetta," Rose asks, quieter, "are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I say, holding my phone to my chest to read it discreetly.

You're dominating, girl, says Naomi's text. Oh, and nothing to report here. Nest says to tell the goaltender she's doing really well.

Rose is frowning when I look back up. "Addie says you're doing well."

"I know you're trying to change the subject—"

"Vivas," Bellona calls, "a word?"

I hide my phone and follow her – and, to my horror, Felice – to a private corner of the changing room.

"You're did well in that period," Bellona comments, face an unyielding stone, "but I'm not stupid. I can see you're pushing yourself hard. Too hard."

I chasten, but say nothing.

"What's the matter?" asks Bellona.

"Why should anything be the matter, ma'am?"

"You're going to keel over if you keep playing like that," Felice remarks gruffly. "The goal-scoring is good, but you nearly lost your footing twice with those turns, and the way you pivoted around that ginger Hare you almost got yourself a fault."

"I was just trying to get ahead. Which we are now."

"Not at the cost of you," Felice says.

I don't know whether to be shocked or frustrated at Felice's opinion. She's never liked me – that much I don't need to point out. Why does she care whether I keel over or not? We have our substitutes – it's not like she can't bench me.

"I suspect," Bellona says coolly, "that our royal presence is making you play recklessly. For whatever reason."

I almost choke. "Of course not! I'm fine!"

"Then pull yourself together," Felice snaps. "We need you."

The changing room is quiet when we return (I think they were trying to listen in), but the buzz restarts when Bellona goes over our strategy for the last twenty minute period. We're ahead now. We just need to keep it.

"And keep your heads screwed on," she says, and I know she's aiming that at me.

The third period begins – and after five minutes, I really am reaching my limit. My legs feel like they've had all the muscle squeezed out of them, like a tube of toothpaste. Keep my head screwed on, Bellona's words encroach me, but without another thought I glance up at the box. Zelda is still watching. Rudy is still watching. The Elite are still watching—

Roy is missing.

I bash into an incoming player, causing me to tumble. Hard ice meets the side of my helmet. I cry out. A whistle goes, sharp as a needle.

"Contact! Elbowing! Penalty!"

Blinking out the ice, I spot the Hare sprawled on the ice a foot away. The puck is still knotted between their hockey stick and their skates. Oh gosh. Did I shunt a player? By accident?

A hand hauls me up by the arm. Felice. "What's wrong with you, Vivas?" she hisses.

Why is Roy missing? That cannot be good. Urgently I scan the box once more; Durante is also gone, as are a handful of guards. Have they gone to find me? Check up on me? No, no, no. If they find I'm missing…

"Errrr," I fumble, looking back at Felice's cross expression. "Sorry— I was just—"

"Distracted," she snaps. "I know."

The referee approaches. "Elbowing foul. Two minute penalty."

"Doesn't matter," Felice says at once, before I can say anything. "Once she's out the box, we're swapping her out."

"You can't— you can't bench me!" I splutter. "I'm fine!"

"No you're not. I don't know whatever the hell's going through your head, Vivas, but now's so not the time for it." She releases me and waves at Bellona, who of course instantly knows to prepare Madison in my place. "Get to the box."

The whole two minutes I wait, head bowed, refusing to watch both the match and the VIP box behind me. Klaxons go, whistles blow, people cheer, but the last few moments throb in my head with dark, ominous promise. Where is Roy now? Is the game up? Do they know I'm missing? Madison gives me a sad fist bump when we swap, yet it's nothing compared to the death glare I receive from Bellona.

"Fine, are you?"

I decide to say nothing and head into the changing room. My head feels like it's been churned through a lawnmower – so many thoughts run riot. I've been penalised for elbowing a player. Benched and substituted. Bellona and Felice are furious with me. Roy is gone. The last thought eclipses them all, and I barely have my second foot out of my skate by the time I hop into the empty changing rooms.

My phone is alight with text messages. Eagle One on search for you. I told him you're extremely ill and went to the rink nurse. Does the rink even have a nurse? Meet us at the entrance to F3, ASAP.

Oh heck, oh heckity heckity heck heck. Panic courses through me as I quickly tell the other substitutes that I'm not feeling well – terrible, actually – and I race to change out of my hockey gear, and then scramble into the empty corridors. F3 is an area of the seats, not far from here, and I easily spot Aderyn and Naomi standing awkwardly by the food stand. Aderyn jumps when she sees me.

"The bathroom, quickly!"

I yank off my wig as Aderyn clears and reapplies my make-up – this time, however, she adds some white powder to pale my features, and darkens the shadows around my eyes. It's subtle, but effective – I do look like I've been sick.

"What's happening?" I ask them to explain.

"The king was pacified," Naomi explains as Aderyn works, "when I told him through radio that you'd puked everywhere. Then I had to make up some spiel about a nurse's office. I'm sorry. I think it was the only thing I could think of to get him off my case. But he's starting to get suspicious. Durante texted me just now."

Greeeeeat. "Well, the game is over now anyway."

"Is it?" asks Aderyn. "But there's a few minutes left—?"

"I know," I snap, then rein myself in. It's not Aderyn's fault anything happened. "I was substituted."

Aderyn gasps. "Whatever for? You're a very good player!"

"I was being reckless."

"But why?"

My head bows as I consider it. I know the real reason why I was being reckless – but I can't bring myself to say it. Think it, even. It's so unlike me to feel anything but excitement and enjoyment at this sport, but this… this is different. This isn't me.

I shake my head. "I'll explain later."

We hurry down back to the cordoned off area. I feign ill once more. The guards stationed at the door raise their eyebrows, but let me in without question, and we're halfway down the hall when we meet Roy, Durante, Rudy, and a handful of his security detail.

"Gail! There you are!" Roy rushes over to inspect me, and I keep my head low hoping he won't look too closely. "You shouldn't run off like that, not without more guards. You know you could get targeted. Where's the nurse?"

"I… left the nurse's office," I croak the lie. "I didn't want to stay away too long."

"You're all… sweaty. Are you feeling better?"

"Not really, no." I clutch my stomach again, but I don't even have the heart to fake period pains, so I instead I make a low whining noise.

Roy winces. "Maybe we should skip the meet-and-greet?"

My hopes rise, but then Rudy says, "We can't. There's the photo opportunity and the press release. It's the only thing the rink management team wanted from us."

Of course.

"Then we'll reduce the meet-and-greet, how about that?" Roy says to me. "One or two players, and the manager?"

I nod mutely. By the time we return, the game is a minute to finish. With my added help, we're a goal up, and by the time the klaxon blows for the final time, we have won. The Angeles All-Stars are in the final.

And I can't bring myself to feel excited.

Zelda is screaming, cheering, flinging her arms in the air and chanting with the crowd. "I thought you didn't like the manager?" Rudy hisses to her in the commotion. The boys are clapping avidly too, especially Max, who gives me that (annoyingly cute) half-smile that peels away a little of the distress.

The All-Stars crash together to hug. The Hares commiserate. Bellona, below us by the rink's wall, shakes her balled fist in triumph. I sit down and clap along with everyone.

"You missed the whole match!" Roy tells me.

So did you. "I watched from the nurse's office," I say, resisting the urge to snap.

"Well, it was a pretty big sweep for the All-Stars," he says, reclining in his seat. "The forward girl – the one that just got sent off? – she scored pretty big for them."

"Funny that," Rudy says, giving up trying to calm Zelda down and facing Roy and I, "her last name is Vivas."

I go absolutely still.

"Huh. Perhaps Zelda and June are distantly related?" Roy posits.

Rudy shrugs.

Oh heck.

I wait in near silence until the crowds clear and we wait until there's a large enough area to seat us all. Rudy's request for a smaller audience is, of course, approved, but only until after our giant group photo. I'm careful not to utter a single word, lest it gives away my identity, but the girls are too reverent (and scared) to speak to me personally as the cameras click and flash.

"Are there any members you'd personally like to meet?" Bellona asks in the aisles when it's done.

Rudy defers to me, but I just mumble a non-committal noise, and he frowns.

"I do apologise. Her Highness is extremely sick at the moment."

"Oh dear. That is a shame." And to her credit, she does sound disappointed.

"Yes, well then, perhaps we can meet with, er," Rudy clears his throat, "the captain and… was it Susanetta Vivas?"

If it's possible to sweat out your entire chest, I do at that moment.

Bellona tilts her head. "Unfortunately, Vivas is indisposed at the moment. Sickness, I believe. We haven't seen her since her untimely penalty, so I imagine she is with the rink doctors." She inhales deeply. "There is someone who has been eager to meet you, however, Your Highness. Our goaltender, Rose Lamb."

Oh nooooooo. But I can hardly say that, so I nod my agreement, and we funnel into the conference room. The rest of the team goes next door with the Elite – I don't miss them all, Beverly, Janet, Willow, Jocelyn, Madison, Wendy and the others, staring bug-eyed at me. I haven't forgotten what they said on that plane. I say a silent plea to any deity that will hear me to protect the Elite boys from the All-Stars' sordid minds.

They shut the door, leaving only our security detail, some photographers, Durante, Rudy, Roy and me. Zelda, wisely, decided to sit this one out, and I wish I was with her. Away from here.

I glance up. Bellona, Felice and Rose are all staring at me, and heat mottles my cheeks. The conference room is stifling. If there's been any moment in this entire saga of my life that I need to stay low profile, this is it.

Roy shakes Bellona's hand. "A great match, Miss Strike."

"Thank you." She manages a watery smile. "We're very… honoured, to play for you."

"Such a shame Gail is sick. You love hockey, don't you, Gail?"

I strain a smile and nod.

"Yes, we are well aware of Her Highness' fondness for the sport," remarks Bellona. "How long have you been a fan?"

I swallow my terror, and croak out, in as high-pitched a voice as I can, "Since I was a little girl."

Rose, bless her, is as readable as a book, so her entire face drops like a sack of bricks. Felice full on grimaces. Only Bellona disguises her shock at my weird voice.

"Gosh, Your Highness," says Rose, curling her hands together, "you sound awful!" Then her eyes go wide. "I-I mean, not awful, of course, just bad! B-But bad, as in, you've sounded better, because you're sick! Yes… you sound very sick—"

Felice nudges her in the arm, and Rose shuts up.

"You sound… different," Felice supplies instead, raising an eyebrow in my direction. "From the TV, I mean."

"TV rarely portrays us the same in person," Roy says jovially. "But I have to agree with Miss Lamb. You do sound... strange, Gail."

Felice stares at me, too non-plussed to do anything else. Bellona manages a thin smile.

"I can see you are very unwell, Your Highness. I wouldn't want to keep you long."

"But, I just want to say," Rose steps closer, so close her thick perfume snuffs out every other scent, "that I really love everything that you do. You have such a happy presence, and I love that! My sister Mariam is a huge fan of yours, she thinks you've got so much personal potential! Plus my two friends, Susanetta and Linkle—" I look up. "Well, they're both sick, but they're both my best friends, and they're big fans, too! We all talk about your Selection all the time and we think you're amazing! So thank you for your support and I hope you can come watch us again sometime!"

I'm speechless a moment. A lump forms in my throat, and I quickly look away to dash the sentiment. Rose thinks all those things about me – about Susanetta, too.

What did I do to deserve Rose?

"Thank you," I choke out.

"… Er, yeah," Felice adds pathetically. "What she said."

Her eyes linger on me, but then Bellona says, "I don't want to keep you here for much longer, but could we talk? In private? I hope that doesn't bother you, Your Majesty."

"Not at all," says Roy.

So Bellona and I make our way to a corner of the room, and the tears beading behind my eyes summarily sink to the bottom of my chest like an anchor in the ocean. Because I may have fooled Rose and Felice, but Bellona is a tougher nut to crack. Yet she doesn't seem at all suspicious as she regards me down the slope of her nose.

"I just… ahem," she clears her throat, "I just wanted to personally thank you, Your Highness. I… do recall you invited me to the palace."

"Several times," I remark.

The sudden quip startles her, but she regains composure quickly. "… Yes. I… declined them. I admit that I was… not in a position to accept, for personal reasons."

Personal reasons… such as hating me?

"For that I apologise." It's my turn to be startled. "I realise now that perhaps I… I underestimated you, Your Highness, as a supporter of the sport, but also as a person. My team is very fond of you, and I see now why."

Her honesty makes me wide-eyed. Her hands clasp behind her back, her chest rises and falls with her exhale.

"I appreciate your support of me, of Glendale Rink, and of the All-Stars," she says. Then the corner of her lips rises in a rare smile. "And I would be grateful for your continued support of us in future."

She goes silent, anticipatory, as if waiting for a gavel to fall. I don't know what to make of the words. Perhaps it is a clever PR move, but it doesn't feel like that; I know Bellona now, know her well enough to sense her inward anger masked as placidity, and this doesn't feel like it. No, this feels… genuine.

"Thank you," I say hoarsely, and I have a sensation of burying some long-past grievance. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

She nods once. "I don't want to keep you much longer."

When they leave, I let out a breath I've been holding since the start of the day. The match, the photo ops, and the meet-and-greet are done. It's all over.

Almost.

As we pack up to leave, I tug Durante's arm, and whisper when he leans down to me, "I need to make one more change."

His face crumples. "Why?"

"I… said to my friend, Rose, that I'd meet her sister." At his unimpressed face, I press, "Please. I wouldn't do it if it wasn't important, and it's important that I show support for my friend."

He massages his temple. Ponders. "I can buy you fifteen minutes. Maybe. Take Aderyn and Naomi."

"Thank you!"

I hobble-hurry out before Roy can spot me and change in the bathroom. The audience has thinned considerably by the time I join the public halls of the rink, some people hoping to catch a closer glimpse of me before I leave. I send a text to Rose to meet at the lockers, but she asks me to meet outside in the parking lot instead. Naomi reluctantly agrees to wait by the doors, outside, as Aderyn and I wait on the road, avoiding the cars clogging the exit to the premises.

It's easy to spot Rose and her giant afro – her mom is there also, her afro even bigger. Her father and a woman I don't recognise wait with her.

"Rose!" Aderyn calls.

Rose hones in on the voice, and a big grin splits her face in two. I feel a surge of affection, for what she said to me earlier, for her kindness, even as she rushes to hug Aderyn – even lifts her off her feet in delight.

"There you are! I was looking so desperately for you with the royals—"

"I'm sorry! The princess was sick, and I had to attend to her, so I couldn't watch the match in person— but you were amazing!"

"I'm just glad you're here!"

Rose's family approaches, and the pair wrench apart, Rose laughing awkwardly and Aderyn blushing. So cute!

"Rose, sweetie, is this the lovely girl you talked about?" says Maria, Rose's mother.

Rose brings us both closer. "Yes, this is Addie! She works at the palace, that's why she's here today."

As Aderyn's hand is shaken like an earthquake, Rose's father, Agave, remarks, "Shouldn't you be with the princess now?"

"Oh, yes! But— erm—" She glances at me. "The princess let me go for five or so minutes."

Rose gasps. "Oh my gosh! Does she know about… about us?"

Aderyn goes ripe red. "S-She might have an idea."

Rose buries her face in her hands as her family laugh.

"Gosh, that's— oh, she probably knew when I met her earlier!" She shakes her head, then ushers me forwards, clutches my hands. "Oh, Su! We won— and I can't believe you missed the princess!"

"I—" I gulp. "I was very sick."

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you."

Concern laces Maria's face. "Do you know what was wrong? Do you want me to give you a quick check-up?"

"Mom!" Rose protests, then turns to her sister, "Mariam, keep her in check, please!"

I see the resemblance between Rose and her sister almost immediately – same face shape, same coiled hair, but whereas the former is lean and willowy, Mariam has a tall presence, curved and muscular, looming like a statue carved from marble and stone. Her skin is lighter than Rose's, and her face is sharply honed, the slash of a knife made human. Yet shadows dog her eyes, and her brow is creased with permanence; she mustn't have been sleeping well, or maybe she's sick herself. Half-sister, I remember; she must be at least half-Asian, for the way her features seem a mixture of the two races.

Mariam smiles and tilts her head. "You know I cannot stop Mother when she is in her zone."

Then my smile drops. Every single part of my body freezes.

Wait. Why… why does she seem familiar…?

"Rose," Agave says, shaking his head, "you haven't even introduced them!"

"Oh! Yes! Sorry, today has been so exciting!" Rose laughs, then gestures. "Addie, Susanetta, this is Mariam Noboru, my half-sister."

Mariam extends a hand to Aderyn first, then to me. Her grip is like iron.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Susanetta."

Cold sluices down my back as recognition stabs through me.

No. No way.

I shake her hand, barely able to conceal the way my own trembles. Because I recognise her low, rumbling timbre. It's usually attached to no identity, a woman on the other side – the woman. My contact. No name, no face, only a voice.

A voice.

As I stare into Mariam Noboru's eyes I realise, with a sharp, piercing sting, that I am staring at the leader of the Rebel Resurgence.

I am staring at the Voice.

A.N: :D

"Aw, poor Rose :( She cares for her family so much and just wants some of that same dedication in return. Her sister better be there to see her make a spectacular save or I'm going to have to be taking down some addresses and social security numbers of my own." — Benevolent Wish Granting, a piece by Ginger, 2020.

Llama, stop skim-reading.

~ GWA

NTT: "Gail… I really like you, I do, but…"