“No…” The air sputtered from my lungs.
“When I was nine, I got into trouble with one of my tutors. Darren heard my cries from down the hall.” The prince’s expression grew dark, and I realized Benny was right. Blayne didn’t hate Darren at all. “Instead of staying in his room, the little fool snuck in and tried to save me… He never was afraid of our father, even when he was beating him senseless.”
My stomach surged, and I slid to the floor, clutching my knees to my chest. My skin was clammy, and my hands were still shaking as I took Blayne’s proffered flask. I couldn’t stop picturing six-year-old Darren in a pool of his own blood, fists and feet and a bladed whip coming from the man he called “Father.” A little boy trying to save his brother.
Privilege. I accused Darren of a privilege the rest of us never had.
“Somehow he managed to pull a knife he had stolen from the kitchens while our father was choking him—”
A whimper escaped my lips, and I clutched shaky fingers to my mouth to let Blayne continue.
“Darren was overtaken in an instant, of course, and beaten within an inch of his life, but...” Blayne’s voice seized. “—He never stopped fighting. Later—when the healer had finished up with my brother and me—our father stopped by the infirmary. Told Darren he had finally done something right.” Blayne didn’t feign his disgust. “As second son Darren’s duty was to me. He had finally proven his role. Father sent him off to train with our head knight the next morning so he could start preparing for the School of Knighthood and become Commander of the Crown’s Army when I took the crown. Darren had impressed him.”
My pulse slammed against my lungs, and I forced myself to swallow. Two sips of some bitter liquid that tore at my throat like ice. I wiped my sweaty palms against my dress.
“After that day…” I couldn’t say it. “Did your father…?”
“Not with Darren.”
I opened my mouth and the crown prince just gave me a sardonic smile. “It takes much more to impress when you are his heir. Darren wasn’t always around. In any case I’m better for it now.”
I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t say anything. What did you say to your enemy? To the villain with the pitiable past? Everything Blayne had done, I couldn’t help wondering if Darren would have turned out the same, were he the heir instead.
“Darren will never tell you any of this.” The prince shut the chest with a thud. “I brought you here so you could see the truth for yourself. My brother pushes people away with his pride, and it doesn’t take much to see he is doing the same to you now. Whatever happened between the two of you, I need you to forgive him, Ryiah.”
“Why…” My voice caught and I tried again. “Why are you helping me? I-I know you want to make amends but—”
“Because he is my little brother. And as many mistakes as he has made, I want the best for him.” The prince’s gaze was bitter. “Even if that is you.”
****
I found Darren leaving the training grounds just as I arrived. Before the training grounds, I had checked his chamber, the indoor practice court, the kitchens, and finally the kennels. I should’ve realized he would seek solace in training. Even in the middle of his brother’s festivities. He and I were one and the same.
The scent of summer was thick in the air, fresh blossoms and cedar mixed in with the lingering trace of sweat and dirt from the barracks.
I stood anxiously, the warm breeze ruffling my dress.
“Darren.”
The non-heir looked up, dark bangs falling across his eyes. Something like regret registered for just a moment before he clenched his jaw and turned away.
“What do you want, Ryiah?”
I took a deep breath. “I’m reckless.”
His head jerked back as he regarded me in surprise. I could tell he hadn’t been expecting that.
I rambled on quickly, “I judge too fast. I don’t always think before I speak. I don’t like to hear that I might not win. I lash out when I’m angry. I’m far from perfect, and I know I never will be. I make mistakes just like the rest of them.”
With every confession I took a step closer, closing the distance between us. I waited until I was right in front of the prince, and then placed my hands on his chest, causing him to take another step back until his shoulders were lining the barrack’s wall.
“You aren’t one of my mistakes.”
A lump in the prince’s throat rose and fell.
“I love you.” And that’s never going to change. “I’ve been in love with you since that day in the desert, and today it’s time for me to make an apology of my own.” I leaned in close and watched his sharp intake of breath. “I’m sorry, Darren.” My eyes rose to his, and I willed him to see the sincerity in my own. “I’m sorry I said you were privileged. I’m sorry I ever thought… Blayne told me…” I swallowed. “If I had known...”
Understanding, and then shame flared in response—but before Darren could break away I wrapped my fingers along the back of his neck and brought his lips to my own. I pressed hard, tasting the regret and anger that was perforating his.
Blood and salt mixed in with the sweetness of wine and I clung still.
He tried to break our kiss. “Ryiah—”
I pushed back harder; he was air and I was drowning for breath. “No.” The word came sputtering from my chest. No. I wasn’t going to let Darren turn away now.
I wasn’t going to let his father win.
I kissed him again, a bit softer. Pleading. My lips brushed his, and I could feel his mouth trembling against my own. “I love you.” I whispered the words again. Over and over. “Please don’t shut me out.”
I felt it the exact moment Darren stopped fighting.
Tension left his shoulders, and the non-heir’s pulse sped up as his hands fisted in my skirt, pulling me in. Heated lips parted mine, and the kiss drove deep—neither one of us in control of our response. His eyes were shut, blocking out whatever memories he struggled to keep inside.
Darren’s hands slid to my waist and then he swung me around so that I was up against the wall instead. My back slammed against stone, and the rough material dug into my skin, his fingers bruising my ribs. His breath was hot and angry as his mouth assaulted my own. I welcomed it, a hot wave of fury bubbling in its wake.
Pain and passion were so much easier to embrace. I didn’t want to think about what the king had done to his two sons. I didn’t want to pity the brother who had attacked my best friend. I didn’t want to know how many times my betrothed had been pushed to the brink of death for the sake of his father’s cruel, twisted games.
I didn’t want to believe any of it.
All these years of coveting Darren’s life only to find out everything I thought was a lie. Did he even want to be the Black Mage at all? Or was it just another role he was expected to meet?
Expectation. That’s all this ever was.
I shut my eyes and tipped my chin, letting the prince’s anger take charge of the moment. Praying, hoping that I could take it all away if I just held on long enough.
But I never could. And I was foolish to try.
“I’m...” Darren broke the kiss a couple minutes later and pressed his forehead against my own. I watched the rise and fall of his chest. “I’m sorry I said—”
I cut him off. “You don’t have to explain.”
His eyes seared. “But I want to, Ryiah. All these years…” Another lump in his throat as he swallowed. “I never got to be anything but what he wanted me to be—”
“Darren—”
“I don’t even know who I am anymore.” His whisper was hoarse. “And I hate it.”
“What if you lose?” I studied his face, searching for a sign. “If you make it look like you are trying…?”
“He would know.” The prince’s laugh was bitter. “And he would punish me by taking away the only thing I’ve ever let myself be weak enough to want.” His gaze met mine and for once he didn’t hide. “It’s
not the first time he’s used you against me.”
The world rushed around me as I realized exactly what he meant.
The first time he tried to call things off with Priscilla.
When I had called him his father’s whipping boy.
“Besides.” Darren pulled away to rest against the wall beside me, shoulder to shoulder. He looked out at the night sky above. “With every second of my life devoted to this cursed role, a part of me wants it now… I’m so mad in the head I can’t imagine a future in which the robe isn’t.”
I didn’t know how to reply.
Darren took my hand, folding my fingers into his own. “If anyone beats me, I want it to be you, Ryiah.”
I shut my eyes and sighed. “Perhaps the gods will surprise us and it will be neither.”
“A true tragedy,” he agreed.
“Of epic proportions.”
His smile was just the faintest line in the shadows. “Two longstanding rivals.”
“And only one robe to bear.”
“Who will win?” Darren’s tone was wry. “The handsome prince?”
I grinned. “Or his valiant betrothed?”
“I can’t wait to marry you, Ryiah.”
When I opened my eyes, Darren was watching me with the oddest gleam in his eyes. The soft expression in his gaze… it hurt to breathe.
Then a devious thought worked its way to the surface. “Even if I win?”
The prince’s expression faltered, and then the boy from the Academy returned with a smirk. “Even if you lose.”
Chapter Eleven
When we first entered the city with the rest of the Crown’s progress, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Heavy, towering pines of the Iron Range gave way to coarse, earthy fields and cracked riverbeds the further east we got. Montfort was a week’s ride north of the capital, a week and a half from Sjeka and the first-year trials we had just left, and it shared neither city’s natural splendor. While not as dry as the Red Desert by any means, it was certainly more arid and cool.
But what Montfort lacked in beauty it more than made up for in mass. The great city was famous for its architects, and the moment I spotted it from the road, I knew I was in for a shock.
Even two miles from the start of the city’s residence, I could see the giant slabs of the Candidacy’s arena towering above the rest. Like a giant stone mouth that longed to tear out the sky. The raised seats and spectator towers were easily fifteen houses tall from their lowest peaks.
The rest of the city was a bit simpler in nature—large square buildings and simple housing, flat roofs and rectangular windows, heavy curtains and chipped bricks in simple sun-dried mud, and the occasional stone-and-mortar mix. One raised building stood out among the rest: a steep dome roof supported by heavily decorated columns and smoothed walls, but even it paled next to the city’s central feature.
Our horses kicked up loose dust as they made their way through the streets. I was stunned by the crowds. Every which way we moved were great herds of people, lowborn and highborn alike, flooding the markets and knocking on doors. That wasn’t all; outside the city limits had been canvas tents as far as the eye could see.
As our tracks slowed, both Paige and Darren’s guard, Henry, pressed closer to our side. The herald—who had been busy entertaining two women in our progress—broke free to blow his horn and proclaim our arrival to the crowd. In truth it did little—there was nowhere for the people to go.
“Like a bay of pigs, and just as brainless,” Paige griped under her breath.
Wren giggled as I hid a smile. In the past three weeks the young princess and I had become close.
In some ways, she was the little sister I’d never had. Sweet—always saving me the last candied figs in our evening meals—and easy to laugh in a way that I was not, especially at my guard whom she had deemed “charming.”
Wren was such a change from my loud, raucous brothers and their constant slew of insults and insatiable bellies. She didn’t seem to mind my lowborn upbringing, and preferred my company to the rest of the court. She was a bit shy around Blayne, but that could have been their difference in age. Knowing what had happened to my best friend, I’d made it a point to ask about their wedding night when we were alone, and she had all but blushed furiously in reply.
Since the girl hadn’t paled or given any sign of terror I took that to be a sign that Blayne had truly grown since the incident with my best friend. That, and I’d requested her ladies-in-waiting report any bruises or marks marring her skin. I might trust the prince a bit more since the night in the old queen’s chambers, but I was determined to do everything I could to ensure what happened to Ella never happened to another girl again.
“Fresh from this morn’! You won’t get a better deal if you try!”
Our progress fought its way past the merchants to the ornate building I had admired before. As the hostlers appeared I realized it was where the Crown and its most important court would reside for the time being. Baron Cuthbert’s manor.
The king’s scholars confirmed it a moment later as they detailed our visit.
“During the last Candidacy it is estimated one-fifth of Jerar came out to watch, and with the Crown’s own son a contender at present we expect close to a third.” The man cleared his throat. “Not to discount the foreign embassies from Caltoth, the Borea Isles, and, of course, the Pythian court.”
“That many visitors?” I squeaked.
Darren edged closer to lean into my ear. “Nervous, love?”
I rolled my eyes in jest, but in truth I was terrified. Hundreds of thousands of visitors. Every one of the stadium’s seats. Filled.
And here you just thought they built it that big to look pretty.
Wait.
Caltothian embassy? I grabbed Darren’s arm. “Caltothians?”
“You didn’t know?” Darren took me by the hand, slowly edging along the standing crowd to peer at the back of the crowd, and tilted his head to the right. A stranger stood, engaged in conversation with a man who could only be Princess Shinako’s father, Emperor Liang.
The man was tall and broad-shouldered, with curly, brown hair that fell to his shoulders. Foreboding, too—with cynical blue eyes that read the room in an instant. Self-assured, and not remotely perturbed to be surrounded by a room of potential enemies. I found myself wondering how he had found the courage to face the Crown in the light of what his kinsmen had done.
“Lord Tyrus of Gyr.” Darren lowered his voice. “It’s tradition to send invitations to each court, but for Caltoth it’s little more than formality. Given the state of things I don’t think anyone expected King Horrace to send a man. But perhaps with the New Alliance he is willing to make a bid for peace.”
I snorted.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “Father’s message was clear. One misstep and we will have ground to imprison Tyrus for treason. Blayne and Father have him and his guards flanked from dawn until dusk.”
I started to nod, my gaze flitting back to the front, when I heard a familiar laugh in the alley. I spun around so fast I almost lost hold of my breakfast, eyes anxiously searching the faces behind us.
Sure enough, I spotted her leaning into my twin’s shoulder in the middle of the street, laughing amber eyes as she looked up at Alex in jest. Her bronze skin glowed in the light of the early evening sun. She looked just as striking as always.
The crowd shifted, and I noticed Derrick and my parents standing a couple feet apart. Ella’s parents and her older brother Jeffrey were there too.
“Ella!” Halfway across the street I screeched my friend’s name and watched as she shrieked, charging in my direction like a blind madman.
I barely had time to speak before the two of us collided. Darren caught up a moment later just before my best friend and I took a tumble to the ground. Paige a minute after, spewing venom as she chastised me for leaving her behind.
“How can I protect someone who continuously neglects every precaution I have in place?�
�
By the time my guard had finished her lecture both sets of families had made their way alongside.
Ella’s parents wore polite frowns as they regarded the prince beside us—no doubt recalling his brother—but mine, especially my mother, were eyeing him in unabashed interest.
“Mom, Dad, this is Darren.” I couldn’t help but notice how stiff and quiet our audience had suddenly become.
My father was first to break the silence. Unfortunately for me it was in the most embarrassing way possible. “Well, well, ‘tall, dark, and handsome.’ I can see why my daughter picked you. She certainly has a type.”
Alex guffawed, and even Derrick had to hide a grin as the prince’s face shot up in flames. Not even Darren was prepared for my father.
“Dad!” I hid my face in my hands.
“George.” My mother elbowed my father for embarrassing his daughter in front of the prince. “Leave them alone.” She smiled at Darren, her keen gray eyes studying our intertwined hands. “A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. I’m Ry’s mother, Liona.”
“You don’t have to call me by my title, ma’am.” Darren’s face was as red as mine.
An awkward moment ensued as Ella reintroduced the non-heir to her family, all of which he had met at court—albeit years before. Her brother Jeffrey looked just as dubious as Alex; her parents were better, they were at least attempting to take note of their daughter’s acceptance of the younger of the two princes.
“As pleasant as it is to stand out in this stifling heat,” Ella’s father interjected suddenly. “I was wondering if everyone wouldn’t mind joining us for dinner at our inn. Sable and I would love to get to know Alex’s family. We’ve been hearing so much over the years, we’d love to share a round of drinks in person.”
My family accepted as I promised a quick round for the prince and myself. I hadn’t forgotten the endless parade of emissaries waiting back at Baron Cuthbert’s manor, but we still had thirty minutes to spare and I intended to make the most of it. I also hadn’t missed the exchange of incredulous expressions between my brothers when Darren spoke.
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