Chapter 26
Chapter twenty-six
The servants’ door swung open at the crack of dawn, and I sat up from bed with wide eyes as I reached for the dinner knife I’d concealed under my pillow. My hackles lowered as I recognized the quick shuffle of Beckham’s feet and the anxious twist of his fingers as he hurried up to my bed.
“I’m sorry for waking you, my lady, but I’m afraid your next competition is beginning soon.” He untucked a freshly pressed dress from under his arm, then hung it over the side of the changing screen so I could see the dark crimson red in the burning glow of the sunrise.
“Thank you, Beckham,” I said, climbing out of bed to approach the selected gown. It was a thicker fabric than usual, tightly knit with long sleeves and a fitted bodice. I picked up a section of the skirt, examining the dark red that was far from the Aemastian blue I’d been forced to wear before.
It looks like the king is done claiming me as one of his own.
I yanked the gown off the screen, then stepped behind it to change out of my nightdress.
Once I was finished, Beckham did his best to help me tie back my hair, but the poor boy had no idea what he was doing.
He was no handmaiden, but I didn’t think any of the Aemastian servants cared so long as he could deliver meal trays and stoke a fire.
In any other setting it would have been unfitting for a male servant to tend to a lady, but that only applied to respected ladies.
After a few minutes of hopeless twisting and yanking, I kindly took the brush from Beckham and pulled my hair back into a low ponytail, keeping one of his braids in so he at least felt like he’d helped.
The guards knocked on the door almost immediately after, commanding Beckham to escort me to the dining hall.
Beckham obeyed, though he was so nervous that I ended up guiding us to the dining hall more than he did. It was strange that he would be escorting me instead of a guard, which I’m sure he recognized too.
The king had already made it clear that he would use Mara to weaken me; would he go after Beckham next?
I tried not to think about it, clearing my head for whatever the next event would bring.
If Lochlan was right about the events being tailored to different competitors’ skill sets, then I would gamble that today’s challenge would cater to Sybil’s talents.
We’d already seen events suited for Brisa, Avalyn, and Ciara, and I knew he wouldn't give me or Mara a leg up in any event.
What could I possibly expect for a challenge suited to an assassin?
Nothing good.
I twisted my iron ring around to tap the stone, checking in with Atlas to see if he had any further details on the event.
“Anything?” I asked, waiting only a few seconds before getting a response.
“No.”
Well, that wasn’t very helpful. I let Beckham hold the door open for me when we arrived at the dining hall and was immediately greeted by far more people than I’d expected.
The other girls were lining up in the center of the room, but the grand dining hall windows were nearly blotted out by rows of servants, guards, and even a few officials.
“You, go stand with the others.” A guard grabbed Beckham by the shoulder, making him nearly jump out of his skin before he hastily obeyed his orders and scurried over to be with the rest of the servants.
Aemastians and Ivalonians alike lined the wall, with the king and princes sitting off to the side in banquet chairs that had been rearranged for whatever event was about to take place.
I took my spot along with the other girls, puzzled by the strange layout and the absence of the grand dining table.
A large black curtain stretched across the side of the room that no one was standing on, big enough to hide the table and anyone else who wanted to sneak behind it.
Aside from that, the room was fairly vacant, but still stuffed to its capacity with the massive number of people crowded inside.
“Good, it looks like everyone has arrived,” the steward said, moving in front of the curtain, where his pale skin practically glowed against the black backdrop.
“Welcome to the first half of your next challenge. Today’s event will be divided into two parts, but you will only be scored in the second half. ”
I glanced over at Mara, who already seemed to be trying to keep her breathing steady. Was this why they got us all up so early? I couldn’t help but wonder how long this was going to take.
“Despite not receiving a score, I urge you to take this first challenge seriously,” the steward said, a dark smile twisting his thin lips. “The results of the first half will greatly impact how you perform in the second event.”
He slipped his hands through an opening in the curtain, retrieving a small wicker basket from the flowy black abyss.
He approached the line of competitors, one by one handing out tiny glass vials from the basket.
The glass felt unreasonably cold when I received my own, and I narrowed my eyes on the suspicious black liquid sloshing inside.
Poison? That certainly seems fitting for an assassin-themed challenge.
The steward pulled aside half the curtain, revealing the hidden table that was lined with beautiful silver goblets. There were six of them total, each elegantly engraved with a competitor’s name like a rich man’s tombstone.
“In your hands is a small dose of poison,” the steward explained, dropping the curtain to once again hide the goblets.
“One by one, you will step behind this curtain and poison one of your competitor’s drinks.
Whom you poison will not be shared, so feel free to target whomever you desire.
The poison is diluted, so it will only cause a mild illness in a single dose, but the more doses you receive, the worse it gets.
If someone were to receive five doses, they’d likely die. ”
Goosebumps peppered my arms as I thought back to the last time everyone voted a competitor out.
If five doses were lethal, then four wouldn’t be much better.
The king must have heard that the other girls were willing to throw me under the carriage to survive.
This was his clever way of loading me up with venom before the next event began.
“Once everyone has emptied their vials, each contestant will be required to drink every drop in their goblet before beginning the next event,” the steward continued. “Is everyone ready?”
No one replied, but I could have sworn I heard the king chuckle under his breath.
The steward called Avalyn to go first, allowing her to disappear behind the curtain until she reemerged with an empty vial.
I hadn’t even had a drop of poison yet and I was already sweating like I was burning with fever.
I rolled the vial between my slick palms, knowing that my choice would hardly matter in the grand scheme of things.
If today’s event went anything like the previous, I would be getting four doses of poison while Mara and I chose a different threat.
But who would she choose? Could I stack my poison with hers to even the playing field?
Or should I spread the illness to anyone I could?
Mara would likely vote for Sybil again, but there was also a chance that she would change her target to Brisa after she saw me vote for her in the door contest. Sybil had the lowest score, but the highest chance of winning today’s event, according to my sources.
Brisa went next, followed by Ciara and then Sybil.
Mara was lined up to go last, which meant that I wouldn’t be able to analyze who she might have chosen before taking my turn.
I looked more closely at the poison, wondering if I could determine anything about it by its appearance alone.
As the crown prince of Ivalon, my father had made me consume dozens of toxins to build up my immunity to poisons, but there was no telling what kind of deadly plants grew in Aemastia’s soil.
Would Sybil have developed some immunities during her training as well?
“Lady Diaspro,” the steward called, and I squeezed the bottle as I made my way behind the curtain.
It was darker than I’d expected, with only a single candlestick available to let me read the engravings. I approached the candlestick to pick it up and spread the light, stopping when I saw which goblet it was positioned in front of.
Diaspro.
Sybil must have left the candle here as a taunt, leaving no secret as to whom she wanted to see writhing in agony during the next event.
I picked up the candle, gazing briefly into each of the goblets to see if I could detect any difference in color.
They were already filled with a dark wine, so it was impossible to see if any had been spiked already, but I didn’t doubt that Sybil’s threat was real.
I stood between Sybil’s and Brisa’s cups, the burning candle reflecting off the serpentine letter S in Sybil’s name.
I popped the cork off the vial, pouring the inky contents into the assassin’s cup without an ounce of remorse.
If today’s event was rigged in her favor, then I wasn’t going to give her any more advantages.
I left the candlestick in front of Sybil’s goblet before returning to my spot, hoping Mara would take the hint and double down on her poison. Mara went last, her decision probably the fastest before she stepped back out with an empty bottle and a nervous sigh.
The curtain was removed and the goblets were put on full display for the audience to view, but before we were instructed to take a drink, an older man in a white uniform approached the table to inspect each cup.
He lifted each goblet, giving it a brief sniff and a quick swirl before jotting down some notes and moving on to the next.
Once he was done, he handed the notes to the steward and slipped back into the crowd without another word.
“The apothecary has taken record of the drinks,” the steward announced. “Ladies, please drink from your goblets. I will announce the results when every drop is gone.”
We all approached the table, selecting our designated cups with wary glances at each other.
Avalyn downed hers in a single breath, slamming it down on the table with a clatter.
Brisa sipped hers delicately, her brows furrowed as she smacked her tongue to the roof of her mouth to study the taste.
Mara closed her eyes and pinched her nose to drink hers, while Ciara, Sybil, and I drank it one gulp at a time.
The first taste was far more bitter than I expected, with a tart metallic flavor that certainly wasn’t natural in wine.
My stomach curdled at the thought of what was in my drink, but I didn’t have the luxury of turning my nose up at it.
I went in for another sip, nearly gagging on it as the taste got worse at the bottom of the glass.
“Don’t do it.” Atlas buzzed my ring, his desperation readable even through the simple taps. “Please.”
He could probably tell by my expression just how bad it was, but despite his pleas, we both knew that forfeiting wasn’t an option. I gulped back the last drop, setting my empty goblet down for the steward to inspect.
Once he confirmed that everyone had swallowed their drinks, he turned back to the audience with the basket full of empty vials.
“And with that, the first half of the event is over. Let’s see how our charming competitors are going to hold up in the next event.” The steward stepped over to the goblets, pulling out the apothecary’s notes with an intrigued smile.
“Princess Avalyn, zero vials. Lady Mara, zero vials. Princess Ciara, zero vials. Lady Brisa…” He placed an empty bottle in front of her cup. “One vial.”
I cursed under my breath. Mara must not have seen my clue.
“Lady Sybil…” He set a bottle down in front of her goblet, and then to my surprise, added a second one. “Two vials.”
Two? Either Mara got my clue after all, or someone else had decided to target her.
Or target Brisa… Either way, that meant that I only got—
The rattle of one vial after another pulled me out of my thoughts, until I blinked up to see three glistening bottles lined up in front of the goblet I’d just drunk from.
“Lady Diaspro, three vials.”
My stomach was already turning at the thought of all the poisoned wine I’d gulped down on an empty stomach, but seeing only three bottles when I’d expected four made it more tolerable than I’d expected.
Who else didn’t poison me, then? Was I not quite as hated as I thought?
It wasn’t exactly another ally, but I would take one less enemy any day.
“All right, ladies.” The steward clapped his hands with an eager rub of his palms. “Let’s begin our next event.”