“Don’t start that. Not you, too. I know Lenairen wasn’t an ideal hero, and I know none of you can forgive him for the barrier, but Tobin does not deserve to be tortured because of something he had nothing to do with.”
“Maybe he doesn’t, but if the Queen wills it—”
“I don’t care what the Queen wills.”
She sighed. “Even if you don’t care the entire Court does. She does. And she won’t let this go.”
I knew that. Of course, I knew it, and it had been gnawing at my gut since we’d been caught. I dropped onto the edge of the bed and pushed my fingers into my hair. “She’s going to kill Tobin, if she hasn’t already.”
Kieras took a seat beside me, one arm around my shoulders, but her reply was anything but comforting. “Oh, Hania, whatever she has in mind will be much worse than a simple execution.”
We didn’t speak the rest of the night. We shared the cramped bed in silence, Kieras dozing in between watching me, but I didn’t sleep. I watched the shadows creep across the walls and the first pale streaks of dawn light up the Nest, and then I dragged myself up.
It was eerily quiet and stagnant throughout the day. Breakfast was silent, Azali nowhere to be seen, and none of the usual lighthearted pastimes took place afterwards. I alternated between my bed and the seat beside one of the windows whenever either view got maddening but even Kieras didn’t bother me.
It was afternoon, the sun beginning to sink lower across the painted sky, when a fresh rush of whispers pulled my attention from the mountains to the other girls. Azali walked past, attention on the ground for the first time since I’d met her. I followed her with my eyes as she crossed to the plate of fruits and bread left aside from lunch. It had been a few hours since the rest had been cleared away, but Kieras had insisted one plate be left in case one of us broke down and ate.
Normally, Azali was pride and fire. Now she was wilted, and hurried to return to her curtained-off bed. That little pang in my chest returned, as much as I didn’t want it to. She deserved every harsh word from Raeth. And yet…
Did anybody deserve to look so dull and beaten?
I got to my feet and made my way after her, every step sending my heart pounding faster. I felt the other girls’ eyes on me but ignored them, and I paused at the drawn curtain. “Azali?”
There was silence, and I pushed aside the curtain. She was perched on her bed, head down and plate set before her, but all she was doing was tearing the bread apart. “Come to gloat, Hania?” she asked. “Be the next to throw in my face that he prefers a human mongrel over the highest-bred person here?”
“Highest-bred?”
She let out a broken little laugh and glanced up at me. “Didn’t you know I was born into the nobility?”
I swallowed and asked, “Can I sit?” She shuffled over to give me room, and I made every move careful as I sat. “How did you end up here?”
“What you mean to ask is how spoiled and possessive and jealous was I to try and get one of us killed for something we’ve all done.”
A part of me did, but I couldn’t say it. So, I waited. She ripped at the bread again and continued. “We were childhood friends, Raeth and I. Everyone assumed we’d be married. I assumed it, I think. But my father liked to gamble. By the time Raeth took his position my family had nothing but old titles.” She glanced up at me for an instant, and the fire was back in her eyes. “He keeps me close to protect me from the debts. I can’t be angry at him for that. But I’ve given everything to him all my life. And he protects you.”
The words were heavy when I forced them out. “You love him, don’t you?”
“Love is a strong word.” But I wasn’t sure that was an answer. She stared at the plate. “And I know better than to believe that there’s any way to get us out of this mess, if that’s even what either of us wants. But he…” She shook her head with another cracked laugh, bitter. “It doesn’t matter. You mean more to him than I do.”
I twisted my fingers together. “I don’t know about that. I think I’m just useful to him. And I don’t know why he does anything he does. I don’t even know why I’m here. I can’t do anything about it. I’m just trying to protect the people I care about.”
“The other slave? The Queen’s?” I nodded. “You were stupid to sneak off with him. Even if I hadn’t said anything, the entire Court would’ve smelled him on you, and you on him.”
“Why did you say something?” It was Azali, I shouldn’t have felt the need to ask. She’d hated me the instant I’d walked into the Nest, and she’d already admitted she was jealous. “Why not let it run its course, if it was so inevitable?”
She looked up at me again. “You’re not just useful to him, Hania. He cares about you, on some level. You mean something to him. He might not know it, but I can see it. And I hoped having you dragged out there for all the Court to see would change his mind. But he’s better than that and I should have known.”
“He’s better than anybody I’ve ever met,” I muttered. I wasn’t sure what way I meant it. Raeth never ceased to confuse me.
There was a long pause, and Azali hesitantly held a chunk of bread out to me, face a mask once again. I took it, but stared at it. “I hope your…whoever he is doesn’t get killed because of it,” she murmured. “I know what it’s like to lose people you love.”
And because my stomach was snarling at the sight of food, the air was pushing down me, and I had no idea what to say, I nodded and took a bite.
We ate in an uncomfortable but not quite hostile silence before the sound of the doors opening interrupted us. I went to the center with the others, Azali a step behind me, and tried to keep from snatching the message the woman held out to me.
I expected Raeth’s familiar script when I unfolded it, but the handwriting was grander, bolder, sweeping across the paper with a flourish.
Queen Marassa of the Dragon Court requests the presence of all to honor and celebrate the Warriors of the Court. Festivities will begin at dusk.
I stared at the writing, trying to understand what it meant and why I had it as Azali read it aloud over my shoulder. There was a wave of murmuring among the others, but I didn’t hear their words; my stomach was sinking lower and lower with each passing second.
“You heard, ladies,” Kieras said, silencing them. “Our Queen requests our presence. Make yourselves presentable.” The command sent them scurrying off, whispering about what might be taking place tonight, and I turned to my friend.
“What festivities are these?”
“I doubt fun ones.”
“Excuses, not festivities,” Azali added. “If the Queen wants us around it’s because she wants us to see what will happen tonight. And I have a feeling it’s no party.” When I turned to look at her, something in her golden eyes faltered. “And, if it’s needed, I’m sorry in advance.”
The hush in the Nest was deeper than before any party, more restless than after Raeth’s appearance the night before. I paced for what felt like hours upon hours. When sunset was streaking across the sky I gathered with the others near the doors. Those girls who had stashed away hairpins and jewels had used them. I hadn’t bothered, but I smoothed my skirt again and again as I waited.
The doors were pushed open, each held by a guard. Three more waited outside to escort us—surrounding Raeth. He lifted his chin as we approached, gaze as hard as marble and as fatal as lightning. “Good evening, ladies.”
There was a chorus of practiced greetings and bowed heads, and his eyes landed on me. My insides collapsed yet again, but if he noticed my nerves he didn’t appear to care; he held out one hand, and led me to the front of the group when I took it. A guard took up position on either side of us while the rest herded the others behind, and we started down the hall.
“This celebration feels different, Lord,” I commented, unsure if it was proper to speak now but unable to stop myself. I had to know
He caught the question in it, but there was none of his usual wolfish smile or hu
mor. Still in a sour mood from the night before, or unhappy about the so-called festivities? “It’s not a celebration—or won’t be to you, I’m sure.”
“What’s going to happen?” When he didn’t answer I tried a different approach. “Why do I get the honor of walking with you?”
“Because, darling, whatever happens tonight is about you.”
“Not in a good way, I suspect, Lord?”
“Not in a good way at all.”
Another winding path through the Eyes to a set of gilded double doors. Another pair of guards to open them for us, nodding their greetings to Raeth and hiding their scowls at the sight of me. I kept my head down as we entered, trying to hide the tremor in my hands though I knew Raeth caught it. A subtle nudge reminded me of who I was, though, and what was expected of me. I swallowed the fear burning my throat and lifted my chin.
I was one of Lord Tiraethsi’s chosen ones, whatever that meant. I was the love of this Court’s future King and would—would—one day be the one to knock down its Queen. I would not let them see me as a cowering child.
We didn’t enter the hall I was familiar with. This one was cavernous, the largest I’d ever seen, so large my mind spun trying to make sense of it. The ceiling was so high only the faint curves of it were visible in the flickering candlelight. Pillars surrounded the long, empty center area, where crimson and white stone swirled through the floor and nobody dared to step, and supported balconies of eager nobles watching from above. Below them, crowds of slaves and staff whispered to one another behind their hands. They parted as soon as they noticed Raeth, bowing their heads to him, which he ignored. I fell a step behind him but didn’t let my eyes drop.
At the front of the room three steps led to the High Court’s seats. Raeth’s was the only one empty; I dared to watch Aven as I was ushered to a place at the edge of the crowd along with the other girls. He caught my eye and gave a slight, approving nod at my posture. Some of the ice in my belly warmed.
Where we stood I could see everything: the High Court, glittering more than ever tonight, the guards lining the wall behind them, the anticipation of every onlooker. I scanned the faces for Tobin’s and found him chained by Marassa’s pearls to a guard at the front of the crowd across from me. He returned my look with all the unsteady terror I felt. The pit in my stomach returned.
Whatever happens tonight is about you.
Marassa could make all the excuses she wanted: this was exactly what Kieras and Azali had said. The thing that would be worse than Tobin’s execution. I was sure of it.
Marassa stood and beckoned for the last whispers to quiet. When they did, she spoke, voice resonating throughout the room. “We come together tonight, as we have every season since our Court was born, to honor our warriors. Those men and women who give their lives for our protection—the noblest of all. Seven have passed their Trials and have travelled here to the Eyes of the Dragon to receive their rewards and our gratitude.”
I cast Kieras a curious glance but she shook her head the tiniest bit—keep quiet, questions later. I looked at the Queen. With a quick, graceful gesture, she beckoned a row of figures to cross to the center of the room, where they stood in a proud row. Seven, all clad in the familiar black leathers from the training camp—three women and four men, two merrows and the others unidentifiable from where I stood. Marassa continued. “The four Trials test the four great traits of a warrior: Cunning, Strength, Honor, and Loyalty. Out of fifteen to enter their Trials this season, these seven have survived to take their places in our Court.”
A little tremor ran through me. Only seven out of fifteen survived?
I couldn’t help another glance to Aven. He was a warrior of the Court, too. He didn’t look at me.
One by one, Marassa called the warriors’ names, and one by one they stepped up to kneel and swear loyalty until death to their Court and receive, first, a stone hung from a leather band from their Lord and then a wrapped knife from their Queen. Two merrows, three selkies, and two sirens. When they were once again lined up before the High Court, a cool, quick touch to my shoulder caught my attention. I forced myself to look straight ahead, not to turn to Moray as it whispered in my ear.
“Don’t blink. Don’t look away. She’ll do it again if you do.”
That was all the warning I got before the sprite darted away, weaving through the crowd as if in search of a place to watch from. I suppressed a tremor and fixed my gaze on the newly-sworn warriors. What did she have planned?
My insides felt like they were caught in a hurricane as a new row of figures entered, led by guards. Each with their hands bound and heads bowed. Tattered, bloodied clothing that was all too familiar, not like the flashing fashion of the nobility. Stumbling movement that appeared extreme after being surrounded by the graceful tidespeople.
My breath caught and my knees felt too weak. I grabbed Kieras’s wrist without thinking, she stiffened but didn’t pull away. They were marching a line of humans into the crowd of tidespeople.
Humans, I saw as a few raised their heads to look around, eyes wide and shadowed with terror, that I recognized.
A seamstress who’d once been generous enough to help me properly repair old clothes.
The kind blacksmith who’d nearly sold me the hunting knife I wished I’d bought.
One of Tobin’s childhood friends, who’d once boasted of wanting to be a warrior himself.
Isla, dirty face streaked with the clear paths of tears. A sob choked me and I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep it from escaping. But Moray’s voice echoed through my head, and I forced my hand down, forced my own tears to stay put. Not now. Not here.
Everything in me screamed to run to them and free them, but I stayed in place.
A terrible, beautiful smile curled Marassa’s lips as she spoke. “Descendants of those who took our magic, and of those who imprisoned your future King.”
I glanced at Aven—surely he could stop this. Surely, he could do something. But he wouldn’t look at me. I saw the storm crawling under his skin, itching to get out.
“Prove your willingness to defend your people.”
My entire body turned to ice. The warriors drew their gifted blades, and the guards dropped the chains holding my people—my friends—in place. And I understood Moray’s warning.
The first fell in seconds. Screams filled the room. The tearing sounds of flesh. I fastened every muscle in place and bit down on my tongue until I tasted blood to keep from screaming myself.
I sent a mental thanks to the old gods when my vision became so blurred with unshed tears that I couldn’t tell who died when. I couldn’t breathe. All I heard was the slaughter, and I knew it was all I’d hear for a very, very long time.
A touch at my ankle cleared my vision, and I looked down to Isla, splayed on her stomach. Fresh blood streaked across her pale face, her hands, but I couldn’t tell if it was hers or not. She was sobbing, grabbing my dress like it was armor that would save her.
Kieras returned the grip on my wrist, and I knew it was the only thing keeping me from falling to the floor, too.
Isla didn’t speak. She didn’t have time. One of the blades pierced into her back with a sound that echoed through me a thousand times after it was over. Warm blood spread across my feet.
I tore my gaze back to the others.
It was done in minutes. Twenty bodies lay scattered through the center of the room. The crowd stepped back to avoid the blood. Marassa smiled. The Court felt a thousand miles away. Whatever else Marassa said was a warped blur. My vision tilted at the edges, like the world was going to pitch sideways. Nausea rolled my stomach.
The crowd pushed me this way and that as they wandered back to their normal evenings. Some scurried off to attend to their duties, whispering about the spectacle. Kieras might have called my name, but I couldn’t be sure.
“Hania.”
It was the magic in Raeth’s voice that dragged my attention to him. His face was unreadable, far too cool and collected for
what had happened. I couldn’t speak, just stared at him. “Do join me in my rooms tonight. I’d love your company.”
It took me a long moment to process the request—order—and I followed him numbly. A few snickers rose up around us but they passed through me like ghosts.
We were halfway to his private rooms when what he’d said hit me and I stopped walking. Join Raeth in his rooms overnight?
He’d promised to keep his hands to himself.
Aven had promised everything would be alright.
I’d promised Papa and Edrick that nothing would happen while I was here.
Did promises mean anything, really?
Raeth stopped and glanced to me, warning in his eyes. “Come, Hania.”
Another enchanted command. I followed him. He didn’t speak before the grand doors had closed behind us, sealing us—alone, at night—in the place where either of us could say or do whatever we liked without consequence. Days ago, I might have begged to spend time here, where I could stop pretending. Now I couldn’t stop shaking.
“Sit.”
I sat on the edge of the bed, unable to do anything but stare at the opposite wall. My gaze fixed on an ancient-looking portrait of a human man dragged to the depths by a siren woman, but I didn’t see it. I just saw all those people. All the lives lost. Their desperate, pleading faces and blank, glassy eyes after it was done. All that blood. All for the Queen’s amusement, for her point to be made. Tobin and I were in no position to try to fool her.
What was I even doing here? I could never beat her. Whatever tentative plans I or Moray or Aven made, what was the point if she could decide one day that Tobin was no longer entertaining and have him killed in an instant? I would never be able to predict it. I could get as close as I wanted to him, playing my part, but I couldn’t save him. Not like this. If she killed him, it would be my fault. I’d wasted time. I’d foolishly tempted fate.
So many people had been killed by her already, what made me think I could stop her? I was human. Only a toy.
A flash of movement in the corner of my eye dragged my attention to Raeth, who stood beside me. He held out a glass of amber liquid, a second of his own in his other hand. I looked at it, confused. He murmured, “I think we could both use a drink tonight.”
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