Chapter 34
34
I was dragged to a windowless room gilded in gold. The four poster bed was covered in nearly a dozen gold-trimmed throw pillows. The sitting area had a golden table etched with intricate designs and gold leaves. Even the plush carpets that blanketed the floor across from the roaring hearth had golden tassels. I was told to bathe in an adjoining chamber, and when I returned to the bedchamber, a slight handmaiden dressed in ice blue entered.
“It’s time to get dressed,” the female said, and I remembered her from the Temple of Orsi. “King West wishes for you to join him for lunch,” the handmaiden continued, and held up a silk dress she had draped over her arm.
My eyes flickered up to her. “Don’t you work for Cassandra?”
“I am just a steward on this island, although Cassandra did bring me here to assist you,” the handmaiden said, and curtseyed. “My name is Leah.”
“Nice to see you again, Leah,” I said, careful. Despite her quiet presentation, she was probably privy to many secrets. Or—she might be looking for mine.
I rose, and she handed me the dress and some underthings, and I slipped them on. The dress was a pale pink color with a tight bodice and white capped sleeves that fell off my shoulders, bringing attention to my cleavage. Not something a warrior would wear, but something a King’s favored might.
The word rippled through me as Leah had me sit in front of a mirror as she combed my blonde hair into an elegant updo. Not only would I have to find a way to win The Ash Trials, I’d have to find a way to escape its “prize.”
Again, that fear wound around me like a vice, its jaws threatening to steal the breath from my lungs. It made me want to curl up in this prison of a room and never leave.
“How long have you worked with Cassandra?” I asked, taking in Leah’s appearance. She had pale blue eyes and dark hair that looked almost reddish in the light, but I couldn’t be sure. She had a small frame, and seemed to be almost swimming in her long servant’s dress.
“Too long,” she confessed, her eyes flickering up to me. “You know Rachelle, do you not? I saw you helped her in the last trial.”
“I did. She’s my friend.”
“I’m grateful my younger sister has someone she can trust in these trials,” Leah said.
My eyes widened. The similarities… “Your hair is dyed.”
“It is,” Leah said. “I joined the palace staff when I found out what Rachelle had done. My aim was to help her the best I could—but it seems like you’ve done much for my sister so far.”
“She’s helped me, too,” I said. “What was your life like… before all this?”
Leah gave me a sad smile. “A question for another time, I’m afraid. It’s time for us to make our leave,” Leah said, holding open the door for me.
I blinked, not realizing she had finished. In the mirror, a pretty version of me blinked back. She had added some color to my cheeks, a coral stain to my lips, and some light shimmer to bring out my bright blue eyes. I looked like a princess, but I needed to act like a warrior.
I rose, following Leah as I stepped out into the hallway—past the guards who stood by my door. I eyed them and their swords.
She led me down a series of hallways that opened up to the larger main stairwell. The morning light crept through the salt blocks the palace was made of with that gorgeous color, as if heating it with a molten pink and orange glow. The railings and stairs were all capped by gold, which glinted in the light. It would be stunning if it weren’t yet another prison. It might have well just been a beautific Ashguard, because it would serve the same purpose of trying to suffocate me.
Leah stopped by a towering set of doors. With effort, she pried one open and ushered me in. I stepped inside—or, rather, I stepped outside .
The doors led to a gorgeous patio that was on one of the higher levels of the palace. Vines and greenery dripped over the space, framing the view of the ocean beyond the pillars. A salty breeze wafted into the patio. In the center of the patio was a large slab of marble that made up a narrow table with more of those floor pillows. King West sat at the center.
When he saw me, he motioned me to sit at a spot beside him. He was wearing an unbuttoned tunic and no crown, as if he were going for an understated appearance. But his hair was still combed in careful waves, and he still wore rings of what I assumed were family crests as well as the insignia of Luminaria.
“Sit,” he said, and I realized I had still been standing and staring.
I made my way around the table to join him, scanning the others at the table who were waiting by untouched baskets of bread, sandwiches, carafes of juice and wine, and still-steaming plates of meat. It was all men at the table, warriors and dignitaries by the looks of them. All men except for one—a woman wearing white robes, who sat across from the King. She had grey eyes and smooth dark skin that glowed in the afternoon light, and I remembered her curious gaze from the ball. Who was she?
But at the end of the table, furthest from the King, sat Tristen. He was dressed in another dark black shirt and pants, his dark hair unruffled, his obsidian eyes staring me down. He was all intensity, and the courtiers and generals who sat next to him seemed to inch away from him, not wanting to be close to the legendary Assassin. I almost smiled, had I not recently declared him my new target. Tristen could not and would not be tamed. So why did the King have him here?
I sat next to the King, smoothing my skirts as I arranged myself on a floor pillow beside him.
“Eat,” King West said to his court, and they began digging into the food before them. Everyone except Tristen, who watched the King and I with that stony focus. “You must be hungry after this morning.”
I nodded, reaching for a bread roll, and then started piling my plate full of what was on the table. Whatever was coming, I needed my energy. “Your palace is quite beautiful.”
“That’s very kind. You know, I wasn’t surprised when my spies sent word to me that you had wielded the Assassin’s shadowfire in the forest on the way to the third trial.”
Ajax’s double must have been spying for the King—which is why Cassandra had interrogated me before I had left the temple after the third trial. I tensed, but tried to keep my movements smooth as I filled my cup with a sweet-smelling juice. “That makes one of us. I barely knew what I was doing,” I said mildly.
“That’s hard to believe,” King West said, studying me.
I turned a smile up at him, trying to channel what I imagined a dumb, vapid woman would look like. “What even is a Siphon?”
King West’s eyebrow rose. “You don’t know?”
I shrugged, eating some of the bread roll and taking a sip of juice before responding. “There’s so much I don’t know.”
I felt a hand running up my arm, and I stiffened mid-sip. King West leaned in, and every instinct in me wanted to run. “I find it hard to believe you didn’t run at Ajax without a single weapon just to put your hands on him if you didn’t know what you were capable of.”
I set down my glass, trying not to choke on it. “It was instinct. I barely understand what it is I can do.”
The King studied me. Then, he leaned back, and I tried not to let my relief be so evident. “That’s why I’ve brought you here. Each year, The Ash Trials grants me a choice of picking favored contestants. You can stay here, eat my food, and receive special training and privileges. It is the way that the gods allow me to exert my influence on the outcome. And this year, I’ve picked you. If you are what I think you are, you have the potential to destroy Stormgard and reunite our fractured kingdoms. Your power is quite intriguing, but it needs to be honed. That’s why I’ve brought him here.”
The entire room turned to Tristen, who was sitting stone still in front of an empty plate, his eyes still narrowed on the King. He hadn’t moved a muscle since I had seen him last, that unnatural stillness reminiscent of a predator stalking its prey. He didn’t say a word, something simmering underneath his outer calm.
The King continued, “The Shadowfire Assassin proved his reputation of being one of the most powerful beings in these trials. You will train with him and he will teach you how to wield your power so you can win the trials and end the rebels once and for all.”
“Why him?” I asked, my mouth dry. “Callum could?—”
“No,” the King said, his voice sharp. Then, his gaze slid back to Tristen, a cruel smirk on his lips. “I want him to arm the weapon that destroys his peoples’ cause.”
The words hit me like a gut punch.
King West was fighting a war. And he would use Tristen and I like pawns on his chessboard.
And there was nothing I could do about it.