Chapter 14
Chapter fourteen
The party ended abruptly after the scores were announced; at least, it did for the competitors. The guards who had escorted us in ushered us out just as quickly, taking me back into the hall.
I walked in silence, feeling like a different person from the confident princess who had last passed through these halls.
I brushed the iron ring on my finger, wishing I’d had a few more minutes to track down Atlas and speak with him.
I supposed he could always talk to me through the ring, but I felt like I needed more than that after such a draining event.
What were his thoughts on Mara's involvement? Had he learned anything new about the other competitors?
I longed to tap on the limestone but didn’t know how to go about asking everything I wanted to with such short messages.
Cedric’s concerns had given me plenty to chew on already, and Lochlan’s interest in the other competitors made it clear that his ambitions were purely selfish.
What about Atlas? Was he still convinced I would win with Mara’s life on the line?
The guard took a sharp turn, leading me away from the route that led to my suite. My knees locked up for a moment, stopping midturn as I looked between the correct hallway and the route he wanted me to follow.
Was this a shortcut? No…this was like the time I’d been escorted to the princes in secret.
“Don’t dawdle,” the guard huffed over his shoulder, spurring my legs back into action. I stayed on high alert, but my heart was pounding impermissibly at the thought of being taken somewhere other than my room.
Had Atlas avoided speaking with me so we could talk in private afterward?
“Meet?” I tapped a quick message into the ring, hoping to get confirmation. “You?”
I shouldn’t have dared to think so positively, because a few turns later, the guard directed me down a dead-end hallway with one window, a spiteful soul staring out it.
All the fluttery feelings within me were smothered, and the flames of my former rage crackled back to life as King Septimus turned around to face me.
“Thank you, Krior.” The king nodded toward the guard, who returned his gratitude with a bow. “Give us a moment, if you would.”
The guard didn’t hesitate to make himself scarce.
The bright snowy world peering in from the diamond-paned window looked too serene to act as a backdrop for the brutal king.
Though I could certainly sense some similarities between his frosty soul and how both he and the winter had no qualms about snuffing out life.
I’d never met with King Septimus anywhere but his throne room before. Either he was too impatient to gloat or he wanted to remind me that his wrath was unavoidable—both made me want to jump out that window.
“Hello, Lady Diaspro,” he said, his voice uncomfortably smooth. “Remarkable performance today; I do hope you enjoyed the little surprise I prepared for you. How wonderful that your worthless little servant now has the opportunity to marry a prince.”
The smile he gave me was awful enough to declare war over, and in many ways, he just had.
“How dare you,” I seethed, clear and sharp. “I know what you were hoping for. You hoped to make my blood boil, you hoped to see me crack, and the only enjoyment you hoped for was your own.”
“Oh dear, why so ungrateful?” He cocked his head, his crown gleaming against the snowy backdrop. “Are you not happy for your friend? I had imagined you’d appreciate seeing a familiar face among the competitors. Thousands of girls would give up anything to take her place.”
“Then offer it to one of them,” I spat, my fist curling.
He devoured my anger, and I was more than ready to make him choke on it.
“And watch you sacrifice them instead?” He chuckled callously, taking a step forward. “No. I think I would much prefer watching you battle with your morals.”
His friendly-host act dropped along with his smile, his expression taking on a longing look that thirsted for my blood. I could see Lochlan in his eyes, but that was too cruel of a comparison for even the twisted prince.
“This competition was designed specifically with you in mind, my dear,” he said in an icy tone. “To destroy you, and your people’s spirits. Though I’ll admit, your placement in the first event was impressive.”
“Get used to underestimating me,” I said.
“And I hope you’ll do the same,” he snapped. “You’re clever, strong, and determined. I don’t doubt that winning the competition is within the realm of possibility for you…but only if you’re willing to abandon sweet little Mara.”
Hearing him say her name made me want to rip out his tongue, and when he leaned in close enough that I had the opportunity, I had to force my hands to stay still.
“Tell me, Diaspro,” he hissed in my ear. “Can you truly do whatever it takes to become an Aemastian, by spilling the blood of an Ivalonian?”
Memories of the siege flashed through my mind, the blood staining my hands and the blood of my people spilt on the floor. I took a step back, my eyes wide as his question nipped at my thoughts.
Is he saying I could still prove myself worthy to him? By killing an Ivalonian just as he had?
My ring vibrated, the sudden jolt startling me enough to gasp. The king arched a brow but didn’t seem to pinpoint the cause of my spook. The buzzing continued, and just like in the ballroom, it was too chaotic to be any real words.
Another warning?
I glanced over my shoulder, prepared to see a tiger or a bear run out at me at this point, but what I hadn’t expected to see was a grey-eyed prince stepping into the hallway to come to my rescue.
“Father? There you are.” Atlas strolled casually into the hall, not even giving me so much as a side glance as he approached the king with a brief bow. “Forgive me for intruding, but there are some officials looking for you in the ballroom.”
It was probably the rudest rescue any prince could offer a damsel in distress. He walked straight past me and didn’t even acknowledge my presence, but despite his smooth voice, I could see him trying to hide his heavy breathing. Had he been running through the halls?
He’d come to find me after my message.
“No intrusion,” the king said, glaring at his irksome son. “I was just wishing Lady Diaspro good luck in the competition. You should do the same before she returns to her room.”
He walked out of the narrow hall, his steps slow and foreboding as he passed by me. Atlas still looked only at him, his breathing slowing but still far from calm.
“Oh, and Atlas.” He stopped, the pause more frightening than anything. “It’s natural for you and your brothers to choose favorites, but I urge you to pick your champion wisely. I have high hopes for you, Son. I don’t want to see you make the same mistakes as your brothers.”
He slipped me a dirty look, and a chill ran down my neck as I recalled the proposals I’d received from both Cedric and Lochlan in the past.
“I never do,” Atlas said boldly, not an ounce of waver in his voice. “My loyalty is not easily bought, Your Majesty.”
“But it’s easily worn,” the king said, turning back down the hallway with his back to his son. “That’s a hideous ring, Atlas. I hope you know its price.”
A lump bobbed up in my throat, and I couldn’t swallow it back until the king had turned the corner and finally left us alone. I looked back at Atlas, feeling my finger twitch once I got a better look at his.
It was turning purple…
He scratched at the finger, glaring at the disobedient appendage that had fallen victim to the magic-spotting talisman. The iron sealed around his finger chained him to me, highlighting the loyalty he couldn’t deny.
I’ll bet he regrets that now.
“Krior,” Atlas called to the guard who was still waiting around the corner, and he stepped back into view. “You can go now; I’ll escort Lady Diaspro back to her room.”
“Sorry, Your Highness, but I’m under strict orders to accompany her,” Krior said sternly.
“Fine,” he grumbled. “Then accompany her from five feet back while I walk with her.”
The guard didn’t argue with him further, allowing the prince to grab me by the arm and drag me back through the halls at a brisk enough pace to put some distance between us and him.
“You’re not going to make any of this easy, are you?” Atlas asked, his voice low and raspy. I knew he wasn’t talking about our stroll.
“I have to help Mara,” I whispered, confirming his concerns. “If I let her die, I lose Ivalon with her.”
He sighed, loosening his grip on my arm in a way that made my heart sigh with it. I needed his support in this, but I couldn’t fight a battle that not everyone could win.
“Is gaining Aemastia not enough?” he asked.
“Far from it,” I said.
“I had a feeling you’d say that,” he grumbled, releasing me entirely.
“Then why did you ask?”
“Because I was hoping you’d be smart about this.” He turned to face me, his tone heated as he stopped us in the midst of the hall. No one was around other than the guard catching up to us, but he looked at me like I was the only person in the entire castle. “Mara is meant to cripple you.”
I met his intensity, refusing to give up on the kingdom that raised me.
“Then I’ll run with a broken leg.” He clenched his jaw, his enchanting eyes searing with irritation that only urged me to fight harder.
“I can handle being at a disadvantage. After all, I spent my whole life being weighed down by Diaspro. Before he died, I was always Damon’s anchor.
” I lowered my voice, cautious with how I phrased anything about Damon with listening ears in reach.
“Anchors drown,” Atlas said. “What if I don’t want to see that happen to you?”
My heart stuttered, but I wrapped it in iron and forged forward. Giving up on Mara or Ivalon would never be an option for me.
“Then help me,” I pleaded, my voice strong but desperate. “Help me protect Mara.”
“How?” He blinked, looking back at the guard who had come within a foot of us. He took me by the arm again, pulling me along to keep us moving before he had to say something.
That was a good question.
This was too much for only us, and even with Cedric on our side we could easily be outmatched by Lochlan and the king. We needed someone equally powerful to add to our team…someone who would be willing to stand up for an Ivalonian and fight against the king.
Or someone who already had…
“I think I know just what we need,” I whispered, leaning close enough to his ear to smell the faint scent of ink and cedar on his collar.
My chest tightened as I prepared to speak the forbidden name, my eyes darting around the hall at least three times, before whispering only a breath away from his ear. “A guardian.”