Chapter 2
Chapter two
Ididn’t expect to be taken back into my room, but I supposed it was closer than the prison cells if they were still rushing to get the mess in the arena under control. The guards practically tossed me inside, offering nothing more than a gruff, “Wait here,” before slamming the doors in my face.
Before I could pull myself off the floor, two pairs of hands were on my arms, lifting me from the ground. The touch startled me at first, but when I saw the familiar faces of my servants, I longed to crush them in an embrace.
“Are you all right?” Mara asked, brushing the dust off my clothes with trembling hands. Her soft blonde hair was tumbling out of her tight bun, framing her scar more prominently than usual. “Can you stand on your own? Can you sit? How about you just lie down to be safe.”
“Oh no, she’s definitely hurt,” Beckham gasped, squeezing my arm and then immediately letting go like he feared I might shatter.
He traced his eyes over my minor battle wounds as if they were severed limbs and spilled entrails.
“Hurry, let me use my magic to take care of you. I’ll make some tea and then—”
“No, no magic,” I hushed him quickly. They seemed startled that I still had the ability to speak, as if they half expected Lochlan to have carved my tongue out during our duel.
I ushered them further into the room, moving away from the door in case any guards were posted on the other side.
“The king will likely see me soon. I don’t need him wondering why all my injuries magically repaired themselves. ”
Beckham gulped, nodding silently as his hand brushed the hidden chain around his throat. I appreciated his willingness to use his pendant to heal me, but there was no point in him risking his life on a life that may be snuffed out before the end of the night.
“I can’t believe you’re still as intact as you are!” Mara wiped at her eyes, tears trailing into the corners of her relieved smile. “I couldn’t watch the fight, but all the servants have been buzzing about how incredible you were. Who knew you had such magnificent talent!”
Damon knew. My mother knew. And now everyone knows.
I was such a fool.
Unveiling my skills in battle had saved me in the fight against Lochlan, but it was only a delayed death. The sealed doors loomed in my peripheral as I imagined the guards bursting through at any moment to share that Lochlan had exposed my secret.
“Yes, everyone is in awe of you, my lady,” Beckham said. “Both the Aemastians and the lower servants!”
Both? I had expected the Ivalonian servants to enjoy watching the villainous prince get humbled, but I hadn’t expected the Aemastians to favor me. I supposed they appreciated having a prospective princess who could hold her own in combat.
“Well, there were a few people who didn’t seem very pleased by the outcome.” Mara nibbled her lip, moving over to the wash basin to get some damp rags for my scrapes. “I heard in the servant halls that there’s some speculation that the prince threw the fight.”
“Really?” I asked, taking a seat so Mara could busy herself nursing me. “That seems like an odd assumption, especially knowing how ruthless Lochlan can be.”
“Well, you just won over the Aemastians, didn’t you?” Mara reminded me. “Perhaps that was his plan all along. He can’t exactly choose a bride who would put his claim to the crown at risk.”
The theory held water, but I knew it wasn’t true.
Lochlan would gladly kill me if I let my guard down, and now he had the chance to do just that.
I didn’t feel the sting of Mara’s rag as she cleaned off my scrapes, numbness overtaking me as I pondered whether it was worth wasting my final thoughts on any of this.
How long will the king make me wait?
No matter how long, I couldn’t let Mara and Beckham see the depth of my fear. They might be the only ones to remember me as someone who was worth cheering for after the king spun his tales.
Part of me wanted to confess to them the same way I had to the princes, but the secret refused to budge free again. I’d already failed to keep it safe once today; I couldn’t fathom doing it again.
“I heard a whisper that someone thought you snuck a magic weapon into the duel,” Beckham said, his tone shallow. “It’s not surprising that people would blame you for cheating after a feat like that, but it’s still ridiculous, right?”
Is it?
I hadn’t cheated, but would it be so bad if people believed I had? There was no proof to crucify me with, and while the king would be furious if he suspected I was a cheat, it would be better than the truth.
I need something to say to him when he finally calls me… Could this save me?
It was funny—even after accepting my death and exposing my secrets, I still caught myself hunting for ways to survive.
I looked down at my ring, my heart tensing as I replayed the moment it had sealed to my finger.
Survival was the only thing my mother had ever wanted for me, and perseverance was a teaching of my father.
No matter how far I cleaved from Damon, his determination to rise still burned like a phoenix within me. How long would it be until I turned to ash?
“You…you didn’t cheat. Right?” Mara repeated Beckham’s unanswered question. I hadn’t even realized how long I’d been quiet.
“I would prefer not to confirm or deny that,” I said, settling on a noncommittal answer. “There are some facts that are dangerous for you to know.”
They didn’t ask anything after that, and I could practically see the unease spread through their faces. That was good to see. A little uncertainty would keep them cautious, and being cautious would keep them safe.
They, and the rest of my people, were all I had left of Ivalon.
I twisted my ring, my throat feeling tight as I imagined what would happen to Mara and Beckham if I was no longer around to look after them.
What would happen to the other Ivalonians?
Who would be left to save them? Suppressed memories of my mother rose to the surface the longer I considered the fate I was leaving them to.
“You must never be caught, my love. All these fickle emotions that are appropriate for a young lady must be cast aside for you to live as a believable prince.”
“Yes, Mother,” I said, blinking back my tears. “I understand what’s at stake. I won’t cry anymore. I promise.”
“You don’t have to promise me that.” She brushed the inexcusable tear from my cheek. “I don’t want you to live miserably; I merely want you to live. Cry in private if you must, but never let them see.”
Was I allowed to cry now, Mother? I never got to ask her that.
The echo of the lock turning twitched my ears, but I was afraid to look toward it. A slight draft flew in through the doors as they swung open, running a shiver down my spine as the guards’ shadows painted the floor.
“The king has summoned you,” the guard said coldly.
It’s time.
“Very well,” I said, rising from my seat as I looked upon my treasured servants one last time. “I’m ready to face him.”
I wasn’t, but Mara and Beckham deserved to know a princess who walked boldly in the face of evil. Perhaps they could do the same after I was gone.
The hallways felt quieter than normal, but that was how I knew I was being talked about more than ever.
The servants couldn’t tear their eyes away from me, both the Aemastians and the Ivalonians.
Some looked at me with respect, others fear, but for most, it was pity.
The show I’d put on in the arena had set me apart from the pretty princess they had expected me to be.
They would remember me now, even if they didn’t want to.
We made it to the king’s throne room, but the guards paused before entering like normal. No one said anything to me, so I simply waited alongside them until my question was answered by the opening of the door.
Lochlan stepped out, letting the door close softly behind him as he stood between me and the fate he’d just sealed for me. My breath caught in the back of my throat, my tongue too tight to speak as I gazed into the vengeful soul of the man who’d nearly become my husband.
He’s finally won.
He walked past me, brushing by my side with a low whisper that tickled my ear. “Good luck, Princess.”