Shadows of the Crown

7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Ariella

M y eyes are unwavering as I stare straight ahead, focusing on the unscathed surface of the throne. Outwardly, I show no signs of stress. But on the inside, I’m a fucking raging storm.

I’m standing in the front line of the spread out competitors. There are six rows of three, with Isaiah to my right and Sivara to my left. She clearly has a fucking problem with me, because I can feel her eyes burning holes into the side of my face. The only time I've seen her before now was at the ceremony, so it must just be my reputation that has earned her animosity.

I won’t give her the satisfaction of a reaction, though. We’re not here to start drama, we’re here to win.

And I will win.

I suck in a deep breath, the mixture of sweat, leather, and old perfume moistening the air. The throne room is large, with ceilings that seem taller than the castle itself, and walls spread so far apart, it would take minutes to walk from one side to the other. The tile on the floor is warm, giving the illusion of a comforting environment. But as I spot the hungry, excited gazes of the audience, I know it’s anything but.

We’re not guests. We’re the entertainment.

The king may have claimed this competition was created under his generosity, but those surrounding me know the truth: he’s bored and wants the kingdom’s best fighters pitted against each other to amuse his curiosities.

The air is thick, making my breaths heavy and my heart beat fast. I hear its thumping in the space surrounding me, and I hope I’m the only one who can. I don’t need the bitch next to me thinking I’m weak.

We’ve been standing here for nearly an hour, waiting for his royal majesty to make an appearance. The intermittent coughing and shuffling have become more frequent as the anticipation increases.

Mine included.

I’m nervous. I’m not scared to admit that to myself, though Aether damn me if I’d ever say it out loud. Heat scrapes the back of my neck, building sweat along my tingling skin. But I keep my breathing even and my face blank of all emotions except annoyance. I focus on the royal guards surrounding the throne, wondering how lo—

The large doors behind me swing open, though I do not move from my position. I know it’s the king; the excited whispers and giggles tell me just as much. I also hear the prince’s name drifting through the musky air.

I’ve tried not thinking about him since I caught him in the training room. He wasn’t supposed to be there—I really didn’t give a fuck, but the idea of cutting off his head was loud in mine. If I truly wanted to exact perfect revenge on the king, wouldn’t it be appropriate to take away someone he loves instead of him? And who better than his heir?

It was the ideal opportunity, but not the right time. No…I need to wait a while longer. If I’m able to sway from my original plan so quickly, then it wasn’t a good plan to begin with. I have to learn more about the Blackwood family; their routines, preferences, secrets. I need to be smart about this, because I’ll only get one chance.

A good place to start will be Caspian, though. Clearly, it won’t be hard to get near him. He was practically coming in his pants the second he saw me; you'd think he’s never laid eyes on a woman before.

Foolish fucking idiot.

It would have been so easy to strip him from this realm and send his royally stained soul to the Angel. But instead of being focused on his life, he was fixated on my ass.

Men.

The royal family themselves finally come into view, walking up the few steps to sit in their gilded thrones, draped in crimson finery. What I wouldn’t give to toss my blade right at that bastard’s head, rejoicing in the loud clank of his crown as it slides across the floor. It would be so easy—not one person in here could stop me before the blade sliced its way through the king’s grimy memories and poisoned thoughts.

“People of Valoria, welcome to the first trial! Where you will witness the kingdom’s brightest fight for glory!” I roll my eyes as he continues talking to the audience as if they’re children seeing someone weave for the first time. And they’re eating it up.

A prickle of awareness works its way up my spine and my gaze snaps to the king’s left, where the prince leans back in his chair, hands grasping the arms while he glares at me. I allow myself a small smile. He’s definitely pissed. I probably hurt his brittle ego when I showed him just how weak he was. I’m guessing no one in his life has actually fought him properly, making him think that he wins against every challenger.

Not me. I don’t give a fuck how he feels.

In fact, I find his rage quite intoxicating.

I raise my eyebrow at him, and his eyes narrow even more, lip curling slightly. Yeah, this is going to be significantly more entertaining than I anticipated. But I have a job to do, and right now that’s making it through this first trial; so I look back to the king, dismissing the prince and his loud silence.

“Competitors, for this trial you will be escorted to the forgotten tunnels under the castle.” Interesting. “There will be no light to guide you and no one to help you. In this vast labyrinth, your task is to navigate your way to the center, where you will find various artifacts. Some are as large as my arm,” he holds out the bulky limb, as if it’s something we should be impressed by, “and some are as small as my hand. You are to choose only one artifact and bring it back to this room.” His smile turns sinister as he looks down on the eighteen of us as if we’re a mere game to him.

I suppose we are.

“There are no rules to this trial other than your task. Obtain the artifact and present it to me, no matter the cost. Because, you see, there are only fourteen.” He laughs, the only sound in this heated room other than the rapid breathing of the man behind me. Gross.

Only fourteen.

Four people will not make it to the second trial. Good.

I plan while the king finishes his ridiculous speech. I’m familiar with the layout of the castle, including the service halls, though the tunnels underneath are news. There will be no light, which could be both an advantage and a disadvantage for me. I work best in the cover of shadows, but even those have small amounts of light seeping through.

Tunnels. I’m unsure how wide these will be, but I must assume that putting one at my back and walking sideways will be my best method. It may be slower, but it’s important to protect every side, so it’ s necessary.

The tunnels will most likely be made of stone, which not only carries sound far, but it’s also not the most quiet surface to walk on. I doubt there will be an orchestra down there, drowning out all sounds…and that means silence is my only ally in this.

But assuming I walk through enough tunnels, and stay alive long enough to get to the middle, how will I know when I’m there? I guess I should just hope I don’t trip over an artifact and give my position away.

Fuck.

I’m frustrated that I never considered these tunnels a possibility. I will need to utilize all my training and make sure no one gets the chance to touch me.

“You will now be taken to your starting positions. Listen for the signal to begin.” Excitement radiates off his wrinkled skin—he’s too excited for a mere game of blind mazes. That thought has every sense heightening, preparing me to deal with anything the king throws in my path down there.

As royal guards step forward, each escorting one competitor toward the doors behind me, I glance at Caspian once more. Warmth slithers through my core when I see he’s still glaring at me.

I can understand why so many girls whisper his name. He’s attractive. His silver eyes contrast nicely with the strands of his hair, which are as black as my heart. He’s strong, with muscles sculpting every inch of him. His presence exudes confidence, though he's very cocky; it’s clear he expects the attention he receives.

I saw him up close for the first time at the king’s competition announcement; there was a group of girls next to me giggling, attempting to catch the prince’s eye. I nearly gagged when he looked over at them and winked, as if his attention is the Angel’s gift to this realm.

Asshole.

Men who prey on women like that deserve the blades I sink into them. He better hope I don’t learn of any unwanted advances he forces onto women, because I will no longer care about my business with the king.

His head will be mine.

But for now, I need to maintain my calm demeanor. So I smirk and wink at him, earning a heated puff of breath. My eyes catch the king as a guard moves to escort me away from the throne; Thalion looks between the prince and me for a moment before narrowing his eyes in my direction.

How easy it is to anger the male species. Let the games begin.