I pushed back harder; he was air and I was drowning for more. “No.” 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 prince’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 responses. 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 mine. 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 and 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.
Darren broke the kiss a couple minutes later and pressed his forehead against my own. “I’m...” 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—” 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, a softness I’d never seen. 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.”
11
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’d 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 with a steep dome roof supported by heavily decorated columns and smoothed walls, but even it paled next to the city’s arena.
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 were 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’d 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’d 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’ve 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’d 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 to 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’d 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 outside its entrance.
“During the last Candidacy, it’s estimated one-fifth of Jerar came out to watch, and with the prince a contender this time, 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 the arena that big for fun.
Wait.
Caltothian embassy? I grabbed Darren’s arm. “Caltothians?”
“You didn’t know?” Darren took me by the hand, slowly edging along the crowd to peer at the back of the square, 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 Caltothian 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. He appeared self-assured, and not remotely perturbed to be surrounded by a crowd of potential enemies. I found myself wondering how he’d 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’ll 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 scanning the faces behind us.
Sure enough, I spotted Ella 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 us.
Ella’s parents wore polite frowns as they regarded the prince beside us—but mine, especially my mother, was 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 smirk. Not even Darren was prepared for my father.
It was the only time I’d ever seen the prince blush.
“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 prince to her family, all of which he’d known from court—albeit years before.
“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 better. We only had a few days at the first-year trials. We’d love to spend more time getting to know you.”
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.
One way or another, I was going to find a way for them to make peace. I knew if Alex and Derrick just took the time to know Darren—without the Ferren’s Keep regiment or my twin’s past bias in the way—they’d find a way to get along.
I hoped.
“ALL RIGHT YOU TWO.” Jeffrey set down his mug with a thud. “Spit it out.”
My friend giggled as she and Alex exchanged grins. “What are you talking about?”
“Nice try.” Her brother waggled a finger between the two. “Time to tell us what’s going on.”
“Alex has been sweating like a pig since we arrived.” Derrick grinned. “Could there be a reason other than his distaste for the sun?”
My twin, usually so quick to retort to our sibling’s wheedling, swallowed and stared at the wall behind us.
My jaw dropped—and I barely had time to think as Ella pulled my brother up off his stool. She nudged him forward and he swallowed again.
My parents and Ella’s—who previously had been in the midst of a long conversation at the other side of the table—stopped to watch.
“Ella and I h-have news.” My twin wiped his sweaty brow. “We wanted to wait until everyone was—”
“We got married!” Ella slapped a hand over her mouth as the whole table exploded in shock.
“What?”
“When?”
“Where?”
“Couldn’t even wait for your own family!” That was my mother.
Alex cringed and looked toward the ceiling while Ella replied, “Two weeks back. We were going to wait for the Candidacy when the rest of you arrived, but—“
“But I couldn’t wait.” Alex’s ducked his head.
Ella blushed. “He told me if he couldn’t marry me that day, he’d die a thousand deaths.”
“Alex?” My father was grinning. “Alex said that?”
I counted one, two, three seconds before I met Derrick’s eyes across the room.
We were still cackling, tears streaming down our face, five minutes later.
“Water!” Derrick finally wheezed. “I need water!”
“Yes!” I grinned like a fool. “I’ll die a thousand deaths if I don’t get some water.” It had to be the worst—and most hilarious—crack at prose my twin had ever attempted.
“They will never let me live that one down,” Alex complained to Ella.
I laughed, but I still thought it was sweet.
AS I STEPPED out onto the cobbled streets, I was so focused on Alex and Ella’s announcement I almost missed the man who’d stepped directly into my path at the last possible second. I had just the barest sense to jump back before his cloak slapped me in the face.
I scowled and looked up, and the recognition made me groan. Worn but sharp angles gave way to haughty eyes and thin, pursed lips—lips that had scowled in my direction for the entire course of the apprenticeship. Master Byron.
He all but ignored me as he addressed the prince at my left. “Your Highness, what a pleasure to see you again.”
Darren hid a smile as his eyes flitted to my face.
A small voice spoke out behind the man. “Master Byron, where do we—”
“Silence!” The man growled at a crowd of exhausted young faces behind him. Some I recognized as apprentices during my final year. “Go back to the barracks. Do not interrupt me while I am greeting the prince. He has more
potential than the lot of you and the decency not to interrupt his elders when speaking.”
It was like I’d never left. I arched a brow in Darren’s direction and the prince coughed. “Master Byron, have you already forgotten Mage Ryiah?”
The man’s eyes narrowed to slits as he was forced to acknowledge my presence. “How could I ever forget? It’s only been a year.” The words were spoken with all the warmth of an icicle.
Four years. Four years I’d struggled while Byron all but ignored my training. The few times he’d given me notice were to take down my gender and act as if I were the worst kind of mistake. I’d never forgive the man for putting me through such a terrible apprenticeship, which was why I said what I said next.
“Well, I couldn’t, either!” I tried to sound as pert as I could, an extra emphasis on my vowels like an overeager convent girl. “And the two of us sharing the same rank. Imagine that, such an honor!”
“An honor.” Byron repeated with a glare that implied it was anything but.
“Such a shame you lost your own Candidacy.” I folded my arms and dropped the high-pitched tone from before. Everyone knew the man had lost his final day’s duel to a third-rank named Kara. My next line was five years in the making. “Perhaps I can make up for what you lacked, as a woman.”
The expression the master wore as I walked away… it was priceless.
“NO OTHER TOURNEY will be able to give you the same thrill for your purse. You will be able to place your bets at any of the booths along the stands before that morning’s event. Combat is our most popular faction, but given the prince’s high favor, your coin might be better spent on Restoration or Alchemy where the odds are a bit more divided.”
I sat next to Darren and our guards, two seats down from the king and another from Blayne and Wren on the left. We were listening to one of the speakers explain the Candidacy rules to the seated emissaries and high-ranking nobility.
Our seats were in a special center box in the first row of the stadium, raised and separated by a heavy stone wall perhaps three yards from the ground floor of the arena. Most of the stadium’s seating was little more than clay benches, raised row after row until they tipped up into the sky, followed by an outlying wall with more spectator towers for less privileged viewers to stand who could not pay for one of the Candidacy’s prime seats at the front.
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