CH. 6 The Seven Challenges
The parade begins with the crash of cymbals and the thunder of drums. The air fills with flutes and laughter, petals of pink and gold raining from above as giggling children toss them into the streets.
Next come the dancers — people with crescent moons strapped to their heads, tied under their chins with bright blue ribbons. They move in dizzying patterns, arms twisting, hips swaying, faces blank as if possessed by the music. Just watching makes me woozy.
Then comes the grand float — enormous, dripping with silver and silk. On it stands Prince Gavin, smiling wide enough to swallow the moon, and beside him, Prince Sorien, whose expression says he'd rather be chewing nails.
His gaze drifts lazily across the crowd... and lands squarely on me.
I jolt.
Even as the float halts — music fading, people pressing closer in awe — Sorien's eyes remain fixed on mine.
"Why is the Prince looking at me?" I mutter. Hegar stands beside me now, the spell on my tongue finally lifted.
"He must find you fascinating," he says.
"Fascinating? That's absurd." I snort.
"He likes pretty things."
"Pretty?" I turn to him, running a hand dramatically down my face. "This is pretty? How ridiculous."
The corner of his mouth lifts. "You don't think you're pretty?"
"Absolutely not. You should've seen my Aunt. She's gorgeous."
"Does she look like me?"
The question is so blunt it takes me a moment. His tone sounds almost... uncertain.
"Yeah. Kind of," I say softly.
"Huh. Then your Aunt raised you well."
I grin. "Thank you."
"But you should know," he adds, eyes on the crowd, "humans think the opposite."
I roll my eyes, about to argue, when Prince Gavin steps forward on the float and raises his goblet.
"People of Kavornos!" His voice booms over the square. "It fills my heart with joy to see you all here, gathered in Yakor to celebrate the Lunar Parade! Tonight, we honor the Moon — She who lights our darkest nights!"
The crowd cheers.
"You may be wondering," Gavin continues, his smile unwavering, "why it is only my brother and I here this evening."
"Where's Prince Farro?" a girl squeals from the crowd, eyes full of hearts.
Gavin chuckles. "Ah, my brother's still quite the favorite among the ladies, I see."
The women titter. I roll my eyes so hard they nearly fall out.
When I glance back at Sorien, he's still looking at me. Only now, there's a flicker of amusement tugging at his mouth.
What is his deal?
"I regret to inform you," Gavin says, his tone dipping into false melancholy, "that our dear brother Farro cannot join us tonight."
The crowd murmurs. Gavin lowers his eyes theatrically. "And as you may have noticed, our father, the King, is also absent. It grieves me deeply to announce that His Majesty has fallen ill... gravely so."
Gasps ripple through the people. I blink, baffled. All this noise for a sick old man? When one King dies, you just pick another. Simple.
"You all know the law," Gavin continues, voice heavy. "When the King's death is proclaimed, the Seven Challenges will begin. Only one Prince — the one who conquers them — shall take the throne."
Whispers spread like wildfire. "The Seven Challenges..." someone breathes. "After all these years?"
Gavin raises his hand, silencing them. "We will face dark days. A throne empty. A kingdom uncertain. So tonight, we celebrate harder than ever. We thank the Moon, and pray She lights our path through the trials to come."
His voice drops. "And through the blood that will be spilled."
The silence that follows is thick enough to chew. Gavin's face trembles with emotion — so perfect it's suspicious. The man performs grief like it's an art form.
I remember seeing him years ago with his parents — even as a boy, he was all smiles and hollow charm. The people, of course, lap it up.
"Brother," Gavin says, turning. "Do you have anything to add?"
Sorien's reply is flat. "You've said it all."
"Very well," Gavin says, his false sorrow cracking into a smirk. "Then let us not dwell on sad things! My father yet lives, and may the Moon bless us all!"
"May the Moon love us all!" the crowd chants back.
And just like that, everyone pretends they didn't just hear a death sentence. Humans — such talented liars.
"Come," Hegar murmurs beside me, snapping me out of my thoughts.
Panic flares. The sun will rise soon — my curse will break, and I'll be exposed. They'll see my real face. They'll burn me alive before I can say "hik hik hik."
I need to get away.
We push through the throng back toward the horses. Prince Sorien is already mounted, his face twisted with disgust.
"We go back now," he says. "This place stinks of mediocrity."
"Yes, my Prince," Hegar answers smoothly.
And just like that, the parade of flowers and songs ends — replaced by the soft, eerie sound of hooves leaving Yakor behind.