Chapter 33
Rylee
Jullian leads us through the palace, taking so many twists and turns, I become woefully aware of how many wings I’ve yet to explore. Mirren stays close to my side, a silent show of support.
“This is where we must leave you,” Jullian explains as we stop before a stone wall just off a heavily decorated hallway. He motions to the wall, as if that’s supposed to mean something to me. “When this opens, walk straight ahead. Baydel wants to showcase the terms in front of the RAC.”
I blow out a breath, nodding.
“Mirren.” He gestures to her. “We must join them.”
She seems reluctant to go but eventually follows at Jullian’s prodding. The two disappear down the hallway and around a bend.
I slide my fingers over the hilts of the blades, wondering what kind of task this will be. Apprehension clouds my every breath. The numbness of the mating bonds ramps up a sense of urgency that makes it hard to think straight. They took them from me. Did something to them. All for a test?
The stone wall shifts upward, some magic propelling it up as it disappears into a hidden chamber, effectively silencing my racing thoughts.
A cool, damp breeze touches my cheeks, the smell of stagnant water and damp sand wafting on the wind.
Jullian and Brooks’s elite enforcers—Three and Two—stand just a few feet away, jerking their heads in unison for me to enter the massive room.
Anxiety immediately replaces every other emotion in my body. I can’t help it. Seeing an enforcer, elite or not, always raises my hackles. You can take the girl out of the Ashlands, but not the Ashlands out of the girl.
Longing hooks my chest and tugs at my most recent memory of the Ashlands as I walk toward them.
I’m not doing this damned list for fun or just so my mates can sit on the thrones they deserve.
I’m also doing this for the people of Lumathyst. Especially those in the lower cities, who starve while the wealthy fill their wastebaskets with unspoiled foods.
For those who are sick and have two choices: go in debt to the royals for basic medicine and access to healers or die.
For those who are forbidden to read for pleasure while the nobles purchase crates of books because the color of their spines looks pretty in a study they rarely use.
For change.
For a good, decent change.
That’s why I step into the unknown now. Regardless of how dangerous it is. I’ve faced death and the goddesses themselves. One of them is haunting my dreams. I can handle whatever damned task the kings concocted for me today.
The weapons strapped to my thighs feel heavy as I follow the elite enforcers.
An added, awkward weight I’m not used to, though somehow, I’m adapting.
Maybe it’s all the training I’ve done with the Legends, or everything I did with Erin prior to this moment, but I keep my chin held high as we head deeper into the massive space.
The floor is covered in a gray sand, not unlike the powder that coats the streets of my homeland. I swallow hard, ignoring the soft familiarity beneath my boots, instead focusing on the dome-like structure that reaches up farther than I can see.
The space lives up to the promised arena setting, with rows of golden curved benches layered in a wide circle around the sand-covered floor.
The kings are in the front row, naturally, which sits at least twenty feet above where I stand.
A few rows above them are a scattering of the RAC and their families.
Charlotte dares a small wave of encouragement, while Margreet looks like she’s salivating at the very prospect of my impending doom as she sips from a wineglass.
Royal staff members are serving food and drinks from silver platters as if they’re here to watch the Ruby Aire Players’ latest performance.
It turns my stomach. This is my life. My mates’ lives. How can they revel in such spectacles?
“Now that we’re all here . . .” Baydel stands from his central position among the seats. “We can begin.” He looks down at me, his focus so intent I’m certain a wave of his power will hit me any second.
“The terms of our alliances with neighboring realms are coming to an end,” Brooks says before Baydel can continue.
“It’s time for us to re-sign our peace and trade agreements.
Normally it’s something we would do, but seeing as it’s time for our sons’ ascensions, this is the perfect opportunity for them to forge their own alliances and terms with the other realms.”
“And seeing as there are several neighboring realms, you’ll have to split up in order to secure ties in each of them,” Lucas interjects.
Split up?
“And what better way to decide who you’re allowed to accompany than a little experiment?” Baydel asks.
“Experiment?” Panic slashes down my spine.
Baydel grins. “Do you remember our first dinner together, little bug?”
My blood runs cold. The demi. The way Baydel made him dance to his death. I couldn’t forget if I tried.
“Yes,” I answer.
“Do you remember what you said to me?” Baydel draws his hands together before him. “That you would’ve spared the traitor who made an attempt on my life? Because you didn’t relish death or bloodshed? That you’d spare him, putting him in the dungeons instead?”
I press my lips together and nod.
“Your actions made us all wonder if you’d say the same if the princes’ lives were in danger.
” He grins, devious and icy. “Evaluna defended me with the full force of her power. And while you have no power to speak of . . .” He sneers, looking me up and down.
“That doesn’t exclude you from the duty of protecting and defending your future kings. ”
My fingers tremble, adrenaline crackling beneath my skin. Wind flickers there, ready and willing to flare. I still have my power. Whatever the kings did to my mates has not affected my own.
“And, after your atrocious display of ignorance with Margreet’s test,” he continues, “we’ve decided it’s of the utmost importance to try you in this regard. And, to ensure your reactions are true and just, we’ve ensured the consequences of any misstep of yours will be dire for the princes.”
I move, unable to digest his words while standing still. I pace in the sand, hairs prickling on the back of my neck as the elite enforcers follow behind within striking distance, way too close for comfort.
“Today, One is the ruler of an enemy realm,” Baydel explains. “Treat him and his demands as such.”
I tilt my head, utter confusion rippling through me.
Baydel snaps his fingers, and his Occuli, Frenrick, stands. He directs a burst of green flame toward the middle of the arena, and the bright pop of light blots out my vision for a second. I blink the impressions away, my eyes clearing. Where there was once nothing, my mates have materialized.
“No.” Shock steals my breath.
Their hands are bound behind their backs, their mouths gagged, each of their necks stretched to capacity by a noose. They stand on thin platforms perched atop a large wooden contraption, their boots barely steady on them.
“No!” I yell this time, racing toward them, only for Two and Three to grab me. I thrash against their hold, but there is no sense to my movements. I can only see them. Their eyes, the way they’re struggling to breathe.
One leaps down from the platform, his boots thudding against the ground before me.
“I’ve captured the esteemed princes of Lumathyst,” he says, his voice slicing through my panic.
It’s slightly muffled by the helmet he wears, but I focus all the same.
I’ve never heard him speak this much, but there’s something to his voice that nags at me.
“They shouldn’t have come to my territory.
” He gestures to Two and Three, and they haul me to my feet.
I shake them off, settling myself as much as I can. “Release them,” I demand.
“They broke our peace treaty,” he responds. “I’m well within my rights to execute them here and now.”
Acid bubbles up my throat. “Release. Them.” I hush the wind in my blood. I could steal every person’s air in this room. Halt it. Suffocate them with it.
I won’t. Not yet.
One tilts his head. “What will you give me to release them?”
That question halts the murderous, panicked thoughts.
What would I offer for them, if I were queen?
“We can renegotiate the terms of our treaty,” I hurry to answer, hope building in my chest. “I know the princes. They wouldn’t break the treaty.
There must’ve been a misunderstanding. Let them go, and we can see to righting it in a way that benefits both realms.”
One turns his head, the diamonds on his helmet sparkling beneath the torchlight in the arena. I can’t see his eyes, of course, but it’s easy enough to tell he’s looking up at Baydel.
I follow that line of sight, just in time to see Baydel shake his head.
My stomach drops.
“The offer is a good start, but I’ll want more.”
Of course he will. “We can discuss further terms when you’ve released the princes.”
“I am a forgiving ruler.” One sounds like he’s enjoying the role Baydel has forced him to play, but this feels like anything but a game. “I’ll entertain your terms, but you must pick one prince.”
The floor shifts beneath my feet.
“Excuse me?”
“Choose.” The demand in his voice needles beneath my skin. “Choose one prince to save. The rest will die today as recompense for breaking our treaty.”
My heart stops dead at his words.
“Pick one!” Baydel hollers from his seat. “Let’s see who you think could rule Lumathyst on his own.” He’s downright jovial, tearing into a leg of meat like he’s watching the most entertaining event.
Based on Baydel’s behavior, I’m inclined to believe it’s all theater, but Lucas and Jullian and Brooks? They’re terrified. Their fear is tangible as they focus on their sons, who are struggling on the goddess-forsaken platform. This is real.
I tear my eyes from the kings, looking past One to my mates. They’re each silently communicating something different to me.