Chapter 46
Chapter Forty-Six
Aurelia
I ’m gazing a little aimlessly into my wardrobe, trying to decide which of my new, much smaller selection of dresses I should wear for the final trial, when Melisse bursts into the room.
Her bobbed hair swishes around her face with her urgency. “The emperor wants the trial to start as soon as possible. We need to get you ready!”
My pulse hiccups. Right now? Is the entire court foregoing breakfast?
Or perhaps they’re all off in the dining room now, gorging themselves with advance notice before the main event begins.
I find it hard to summon much rancor even if that’s the case. I’d rather get this sick game over with sooner rather than later.
Melisse’s announcement at least makes my decision simple. I point to the freshly laundered white dress I was wearing during Fausta’s bout of destruction—the only remaining gown that’s tailored to fit me.
Rochelle could have adjusted the fabric so it somehow set off my figure to even better effect, but it’ll look perfectly fine as it is.
At the memory of the mornings when my friend assisted me with my dressing, my chest constricts. But even that pain feels dull and distant beyond the thumping of my heart.
Some part of me has already detached from the horrors that might await in the coming trial. I simply have to go through the motions and prepare for the final sacrifice, whatever that ends up being.
Last night’s wanton indulgence might as well have been a good-bye not just to the possibility of love but to my entire life as it’s been up until now. I got my final hurrah. Now it’s time to face my fate.
Melisse slides the light silk over my head and ensures that it’s settled right against the curves of my body. She pulls the brush through my hair with swift but careful strokes.
As soon as she’s added a little powder to my face, I pull on my slippers and get to my feet. “Let’s see what’s in store for us today.”
My maid fidgets with nerves enough for both of us as she leads me through the palace halls, down a staircase… and to the arching back doorway that leads out to the gardens.
A crowd of nobles has congregated at the far end of the broad stone path that stretches between the central flower beds. As we draw closer, I study the arching hedge that now stands between the tamer part of the grounds and the woods beyond. The court gathers on either side of it as if it’s an entrance they’re avoiding blocking.
That living arch wasn’t here yesterday. The emperor must have had someone with a gift for encouraging plant growth summon it overnight.
I halt several paces away, unsure of how to proceed. Emperor Tarquin and Marclinus are chatting with their subjects without any sign that they’ve noticed my arrival. Leonette stands on the path close to the hedge, her athletic form tensed and her gaze wary. It doesn’t appear Fausta has found her way here yet.
But she already has friends in attendance. As Melisse scurries off to see if she has new orders, Bianca sashays toward me. Her fine black hair is coiled up in an even more elaborate style than usual, sleek braids weaving between broader whorls in a tapestry of texture.
She speaks in a low voice only I can hear. “I suppose today we’ll see who truly knows what it takes to reign over Dariu. You’re going to look like a fool in the end.”
With everything else I have to consider, her barbed words barely nick me. I gaze into her pretty brown face with an unexpected sense of peace.
She’s the one afraid of looking like a fool, of losing the man she’s dallied with for so long in front of her own husband. But I’ve experienced pleasures beyond anything I can imagine ever enjoying with the man she covets.
What do I have to feel jealous about?
I offer her a reassuring smile. “I’m not going to stop you, you know.”
Bianca blinks. “Stop me?”
I tip my head toward Marclinus. The sunlight glinting off his gold crown makes the golden-blond hair it’s nestled on look tarnished. “From continuing whatever association you have with His Imperial Highness. If he wishes to enjoy your company after he’s married and you wish to indulge him, that’s between the two of you. An emperor-to-be should have everything he wants, shouldn’t he?”
She’s outright staring at me now. Her next words come out in a sputter. “You can’t really mean— My sympathies aren’t going to be swayed by frivolous lies.”
With a rustle of her skirt, she spins on her heel and stalks away.
That’s fine. I don’t really care whether she believes me, and I’d rather not have to talk to her any longer than I already have.
My searching gaze catches on the rare cluster of welcome faces amid the nobles. The princes keep their expressions impassive, but Bastien tips his head in the slightest nod after his gaze catches mine.
They’re here, watching over me, offering whatever protection they can. Gods above, let it be enough.
Footsteps rap against the smooth stone tiles, announcing Fausta’s arrival. She’s chosen a deep green gown that matches her eyes and sets off her flaming hair to even starker effect.
The embroidered pouch on the lustrous cord around her waist looks larger than what the women of the court typically use to hold their bedroom key and minor accessories. What is she carrying in there?
I’d see if I can contrive to get close enough to Raul to find out what his gift can tell him, but at that moment, Emperor Tarquin and Marclinus step in front of the arch. Tarquin claps his hands together for our attention.
As the crowd falls silent, the emperor pitches his voice to carry. “Today we will witness my son’s prospective brides complete their final challenge and find out who is the most worthy of standing beside him. I hope we have all learned much from observing their trials and that there will be no further question of who deserves what. I look forward to welcoming the woman who earns Marclinus’s approval into the family.”
His piercing gaze sweeps over his audience, his tone dry but with an edge sharp as his guards’ swords. He’s reminding his court of the daughters he’s taken from them as punishment for their presumption.
I don’t even know how much Tarquin truly cared about judging us. Was the only real purpose of all this torment to carry out his ruthless vendetta?
His heir pipes up. “These three ladies have overcome many obstacles in their quest to prove themselves. For their last trial, they’ll encounter many very literal obstacles. We will see who is the most committed to reaching me, with speed, agility, strength, and—most importantly—dedication. You may follow them all along the course. If you have a favorite, feel free to cheer them on.”
He flashes a grin at all of us, as if he’s ever so pleased with his brilliant test, before going on. “Ladies, I will take my leave of you so that I can be waiting at the end of the course. Make your way along the route as quickly as you’re able to. The first of you to take my hand has won it.”
He and his father stride off into the woods without another word, several guards flanking them.
One of the palace staff motions Leonette, Fausta, and me to the edge of the stone path, just before the hedge. Beyond the arch, which stretches a few feet into the woods, the underbrush has been cut back even more than usual to clear a wide track between the trees.
The watching nobles surge into the forest along our path, eager to watch us on our way with the best view possible.
The man who beckoned us lifts his hand, holding a large bell. “On my signal, you may run. ”
My mouth has gone dry as ash. I brace my legs instinctively.
At the resonant ding, all three of us spring forward.
As we hurtle beneath the hedge arch, a forceful current of air whips past us. Beside me, Fausta flinches and then yelps.
A second blast of wind hits her, and her pouch jerks right off her belt to careen across the cleared earth.
Alarm clangs through me. That’s no natural gust.
Bastien is using his gift to cast the pouch away from her—which means Raul must have sensed some kind of threat inside.
Fausta dives after her pouch, and I dodge out of her way. She manages to slam her heel back into my ankle. As I stumble to the side with a flare of pain, she snatches the pouch before it can blow any farther and wrenches out a small shiny object.
My rival whirls toward me, twitching her wrist to flick a small, hooked blade out of the steel handle she’s holding. The honed surface gleams with an odd oily texture that makes my gift snap to attention with a shudder through my nerves. As if my magic is anticipating the need for a cure.
I’d be willing to bet all I have that there’s poison lacing the blade. Fausta might not need to do more than prick me with it to cull me from the competition—and this world.
Catching my balance, I shove myself away and sprint the rest of the way past the arch.
Fausta’s groping hand catches my skirt as it whips out behind me. She hauls me back toward her as she lunges forward. I heave to the side, spinning to try to fend her off?—
And her face spasms, her eyes jittering as if tracking a peril I can’t see.
An illusion aimed only at her?
Whatever Lorenzo must have conjured, it shocks a gasp from Fausta’s mouth and loosens her grip on the curved knife. I ram my elbow into her hand, and her fingers burst apart.
The knife falls. An instant before it hits the ground, a sharper current of wind hurls the weapon all the way between the trees. Another blast smacks into the backs of Fausta’s knees, sending her tumbling to the ground.
With a hoarse breath, I dash farther into the woods, leaving her behind.
A mix of whoops and confused mutterings ring out when I race past the nearest nobles. “Princess of the wild north!” someone hollers, possibly meaning it as a compliment for once.
I have no idea what they made of my and Fausta’s tussle, but no one appears to be inclined to intervene. Perhaps they see her attempted attack as a reasonable part of the challenge.
I don’t think anyone’s realized there was more to the fight than our own skills. I hear no shouts about unsanctioned magic.
Relief shudders through my lungs with my next breath.
My princes came through for me. They disarmed Fausta of the weapon she meant to murder me with. If they hadn’t forced her hand, no doubt she’d have struck at some point when I was too distracted to defend myself.
I owe them my life.
I won’t be able to thank them for their help unless I reach the end of this obstacle course first. I may have gotten a head start on Fausta, but Leonette has taken advantage of our scuffle to pull far into the lead. I spot her up ahead, her sky-blue dress rippling around her dark limbs.
Just as I push even more speed into my legs, she lurches to one side.
Sinuous shapes ripple across the dirt around her. She scrambles this way and that, avoiding them as well as she can. The nobles who are just catching up holler with a mix of encouragement and derisive jeers.
Out of caution, I slow to a lope. As I close the distance, the snake-like obstructions come into clearer focus.
They’re vines—thick cords of vegetation that are lashing back and forth across the cleared earth. Someone must be directing them with their gift.
And more of them stretch across our course as far as I can see into the fractured sunlight up ahead.