Chapter 38
Reyla
“Lore. Lore,” I cried out, tears ripping down my face. I strained to reach him, but I couldn’t move my arms or legs.
“Our queen would prefer to see you in the throne room,” the female guard said, her lips thinning as she glared down at Lore lying motionless on the floor.
“I don’t give a damn about your queen. Lore!” I wrenched against the restraints and tried to call power to lay waste to everything and everyone around me, but nothing came to my call.
The guard’s hand flicked to the others. “Take him.”
Two men wrenched Lore up off the ground.
He groaned.
Alive. At least he was alive.
“Lore.” My heart thrashed in my chest. “Lore!”
He turned his head to look my way, his gaze wavering before finally focusing on me. “I’m…alright.”
He was anything but alright.
They dragged us from her rooms, down the stairs, only pausing outside the wide double doors to her throne room.
By then, Lore’s eyes were clear, and he was growling at them, fighting as best he could despite being bound.
Fear kept bolting through me. She’d discovered who we were. She was going to kill us.
If only I could hold him one more time.
The guards shoved us into a throne room that mirrored Evergorne's. Twin thrones, a blood-red carpet, and watching nobles. But this felt like a twisted reflection of home. The only difference was that Queen Naveer sat on her throne, staring down her nose at us. The throne beside her remained empty.
A sleek black crow clutched a tall perch, its dark eyes fixed intently on us. When Naveer glanced back at it, the bird's head tilted, and Naveer subtly nodded.
Prager. Giving guidance. Of course.
The crow's head cocked at an unnatural angle, and for one heart-stopping moment, I swore I heard the echo of familiar laughter. Cold, ancient, and vindictive. The same laugh that had echoed through our home as Lore's mother died.
Guards poked us again with magic from behind, driving us down the aisle and halfway across the open area. Snickers erupted from the lords and ladies watching.
I shifted closer to Lore, wishing I could at least take his hand. Give and receive reassurance even if it was false.
“You’re late,” the queen huffed. “I was about to start without you.”
“Fuck…” Lore snarled.
“This is not the same as the labyrinth,” I whispered. But wasn’t it? It had been orchestrated by the same conductor.
“Such a shame if I’d had to do that,” Naveer continued with a sneer. “After all, I was about to discuss you.”
“What is the meaning of this?” Lore asked in his lofty Lord Rutherford voice. “We took on your second challenge, and we brought the frostwilla blossom to you as requested.”
A limp blossom that still, somehow, remained clutched in my hand. I wanted to lift it up, to show it off to the room and this wretched woman, but I couldn’t move my arms.
She rose from the throne and silence fell across the crowd.
With a smirk, she sauntered across the platform, her dark blue gown with silver stitching swishing around her.
Her skin glowed with unnatural vitality, her hair was more lustrous, her movements too fluid for someone her age.
The energy she'd harvested from fallen contestants had transformed her, making her appear decades younger than when we'd first arrived.
Reaching the dais stairs, she descended with lazy patience, her gaze drifting back and forth between us. She reached the bottom and strode over to stand in front of us.
“What blossom?” She looked us both up and down.
“It’s in my right hand.” I struggled to keep my voice neutral, but my heart kept slamming up into my throat. “If you release the spell binding me, I’ll show you.”
“The blossom means nothing when compared to all the rest.” She huffed out a laugh. “You two look a touch battered, don’t you? More desperate than I would ever allow myself to be.”
“We played your game,” Lore drawled. “We won.”
She tipped her head back, and her rich laugh rang out. “Did you really?”
“We did,” I spat.
Her head snapped my way, and she placed a finger over her lips. “Shush, pretty little bride. I’m speaking with…” Her shoulders dropped with a heavy sigh. “What shall I call you?”
“Lord Rutherford. Lady Bliss,” I said. “You know us well.” Actually, how much did Naveer know? I suspected everything.
The crow cawed, and the queen’s next words came with renewed venom, as if the sound had reminded her of something.
“Do you believe me simple?” Her eyes flicked over me, assessing, before narrowing in amusement. “Tell me, how does it feel to be helpless?”
Anger pulsed through my chest, and I lifted my chin. “We’re not. Release us at once.” It was all I could do to hold onto my sternest Lady Bliss voice. We’d play the game until there was no hope for it working. “Surely you don’t want to be cruel to your most loyal supporters.”
“Loyal?” Naveer’s lips twisted. “I believe I’ve had enough of this conversation. You’ve arrived and that means it’s time for this trial to get started.”
Swinging around, she strode back up the dais steps and sat on her throne, giving us a slick smile. She paused as if thinking, and an odd expression flickered across her face. Uncertainty, maybe even regret. The crow's wings rustled, and the queen’s eyes hardened.
Her hand rose. “Herald? Announce the charges.”
The uniformed man stepped away from the wall, giving her a stiff salute before glaring at us. “Espionage. If convicted, the penalty will be death.”
“What?” I barked, my spine twitching.
“What you’ve done threatens the natural order.” Naveer examined her nails, peeking at us through her lashes. “Spying under false identities within my court, thereby threatening everything someone holds dear. So much for your supposed loyalty, Lord Rutherford and Lady Bliss.”
“Fuck you,” Lore growled.
Her gaze scanned his frame. “While your offer is tempting, I doubt you’re worth the time.”
“We don’t know what you’re talking about.” I fought to keep fear from my expression.
A flick of her hand and our rings were wrenched from our fingers. Our facades fell away, and gasps echoed from the lords and ladies raptly watching the unfolding drama.
“Queen Reyla and King Lorick of Evergorne Court.” Queen Naveer’s sneer rose. “You have infiltrated my court with the intent to sabotage my beloved home.”
Cries of dismay echoed in the room.
“The charge stands. Espionage.” She stretched the word out like she was drizzling horig over her morning porridge. “Such an ugly crime.”
Hisses and chatter rippled from every direction. Eyes burned into me from behind. Hateful and smug, her court was savoring our supposed downfall.
“Fuck you,” I hissed. “Fake charges.”
“This is too much like the court trial inside the labyrinth,” Lore said between clenched teeth. “How does she know?”
“The crow.” I kept my voice low, though I doubted anyone could hear us in the furor. “Prager’s watching, and I bet she’s guiding Queen Naveer.”
“You’re right.”
She’d do anything to stop us from taking the talisman.
Naveer rose from her throne. “Reyla and Lorick of Evergorne Court, you stand charged with spying. You came here wearing the magical identity of two of my most loyal subjects. What have to you to say in your defense? Speak, before I fulfill my obligation.”
“We didn’t come here to spy,” Lore said.
“You lie,” she hissed. “Espionage.”
She sank onto her throne as if the pronouncement had drained something from her. Prager’s magical compulsion demanded compliance, and it came at a cost.
The horrible truth crystallized.
“Prager isn't just influencing Naveer, she's controlling everything,” I whispered to Lore, defeat crushing down on me.
“The competitions, the trials, all of it.
Naveer's a harvesting tool, and we walked straight into a trap.
Every death in these competitions has been feeding not only Naveer but Prager's power. And in two days, when the curse takes you…”
“She wins. The curse continues, I'm dead, and she's more powerful than ever.” The tic in his temple was the only evidence of his fury. “I’ll kill them both.”
“The witnesses have spoken.” Naveer’s eyes gleamed with feral joy.
“What witnesses?” I yelled.
She frowned before her face smoothed, her eyes taking on a rabid gleam. She was enjoying this the same way a beast savored toying with prey. “The evidence is undeniable.”
The crow leaned forward and though no one else seemed to notice, I caught the faint sound of whispering.
Naveer's next words came brittle, as if recited with guidance. “It’s my duty as queen to pass judgment. Guilty as charged.”
A legal execution would provide the perfect cover for what she truly wanted—our life force, freely given through our willing participation in her games, now forfeit through her twisted justice.
The frostwilla blossom was wrenched from my hand. It floated across the room to land on Naveer’s outstretched palm.
Her eyebrows rose as she examined it. “Such a beautiful thing. How dare you pluck this rare blossom from my property? If I wasn’t already charging you for spying on my beloved court, I would have you whipped for decimating my precious garden.”
Naveer lowered her hand to the arm of her throne and a boom echoed in the big room, making everyone still. The crow spread one wing, and Naveer's hand moved to mirror the gesture, waving toward us. “Your punishment will be death.”
Guards strode toward us. One latched onto my arm, another Lore’s. To them, this was an everyday occurrence, a necessary step in their queen’s need for justice.
I seethed, but I bit back my words, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a struggle.
Lore bellowed, his muscles straining against the magic cinching his limbs. “Fuck you, Naveer.”
“I’ve already declined, dear.” She smirked. “Please don’t debase yourself further.”
The guards dragged us from the room and down a long hall to a steel door with so many locks, it took them a few moments to release them. Despite the bindings, Lore managed to brush his fingers against mine. That tiny contact sent warmth through my entire body, reminding me I wasn’t alone in this.
Each step deeper into the castle's bowels felt like descending into our tomb. The curse would claim Lore in two days, but Naveer intended to kill us both before then. Unless we found a way out.
The door creaked open, and we descended stone steps slick with water and moss, dank air churning around. Water drizzled down the wall on my right and a glance over the drop-off on my left made my pulse seize.
We finally reached the bottom, where we were shoved along a stone corridor with barred cells on each side.
Near the end, they unlocked a cell, the door groaning as the shoved it wide.
They pushed us inside, and I barely caught myself from falling on a stone floor.
Lore crashed down onto his knees with a snarl. The door clanged shut behind us, the sound of it ringing in my skull, and the guards strode back down the hall.
Like when we were trapped inside the labyrinth, our magical bindings released.
A soft scraping sound echoed from the corridor beyond our cell. Through the bars, a sleek black crow perched on a torch bracket, its eyes reflecting the guttering flame. It tilted its head, studying us with an intelligence that made my skin crawl.
The bird's beak parted in what sounded like a satisfied sigh.
We were caged, helpless, while time ticked away toward Lore's death.
All Prager needed was patience.
The crow preened, a creature savoring its victory.
Every competition, every trial, every moment we'd thought we were clever or ahead of the game, Prager had been right there. Listening. Planning. Savoring our inevitable defeat.
She fixed us with another long stare before spreading her wings and gliding into the darkness beyond the torchlight.
The worst part wasn't that Prager had outmaneuvered us. It was that she'd made us complicit in our own destruction. Every challenge we'd completed, every trial we'd survived, had fed energy to Naveer, and through her, to Prager herself. We hadn't been fighting for our lives.
We'd been powering our own execution.
Lore tugged me into his arms. “I need to feel you're real,” he whispered against my hair. “Need to know you're still mine.”
“Always yours. In this life and whatever comes after.”
“Fucking Prager,” he hissed, his head reeling back.
“She's been steps ahead the entire time. Every move we made, every victory we thought we'd earned…” My voice cracked. “We thought we controlled this game, but we were never the players, we were the pieces.”
“Wildfire.” His voice broke on my name. “If this is how it ends, know that loving you was worth it all. You're my heart, my wife, my everything.”
We stood together longer than we should, needing this contact.
“At least we're together.” I pressed closer to him.
“Always, wife. Even if it's the last thing we do.”
“Two days,” I said softly. “She doesn't have to do anything now. She can sit back and watch the curse do her work for her.”
We scanned the dreary space that looked eerily the same as the one we’d found ourselves in while inside the labyrinth.
Rough-hewn stone walls and floor.
A narrow bunk with a ratty blanket.
A solitary, guttering torch in the hallway beyond.
No windows, of course.
Irridain’s dungeon.