Chapter 63
AIMILIA
Cyprian was disputing the judges’ ranking to their faces. By throwing it down, he was saying his honor was damaged.
Challenge runes were very rarely used. The only time Aimilia had seen it was when Gavril challenged Nikias, demanding justice for what he’d done to Marcella.
Commander Prisca stared at the rune. Everyone was watching them.
Prisca called out, “Commander Cyprian, does this mean what it looks like it means?”
Cyprian lifted his chin. “Yes. A race doesn’t prove anything. If we’re going to know who is the best mage to lead House Mitis, we ought to have the two best mages sort it out one on one. If Commander Aimilia wants to be the head of this house, she’s going to have to fight me for it.”
Had this been his plan all along? Even if Aimilia beat him, had he been saving this one final attempt to bring her beneath his heel?
Aimilia looked down at her arm. He’d known exactly the trap he’d been setting for her. She’d fallen for it. Just how predictable was she?
Both Nikias and Cyprian could so easily pull her strings.
If Aimilia accepted the challenge, she would lose.
With her arm as damaged as it was, she didn’t stand a chance.
She wouldn’t be able to cast nearly as well as Cyprian.
Any other day. Any other circumstance, Aimilia was certain she could at least put up a worthy effort, if not beat him outright.
Today, however… accepting the challenge meant losing her position.
Aimilia turned to Prisca and whispered, “What happens if I refuse?”
Cyprian answered for her. “If you forfeit, I’ll take my rightful position regardless. I’m disputing the results. You’re going to have to defend them or surrender them.”
It wasn’t a fair fight. The words were on the tip of her tongue.
“Unfortunately, you have to decide now. Unless, of course Cyprian rescinds the challenge to make it a fair fight,” Prisca said, directing a glare toward Cyprian.
“If she’s qualified to win a trial, she’s capable of fighting.” Cyprian raised an eyebrow. “Do you think our enemies care about a fair fight?”
Somewhere behind her, someone said, “Coward.”
Hypatia’s words struck her like a gong. A no-win scenario. She wished Hypatia had been a little bit clearer about how many times Aimilia was going to run into them. She thought this was already in the past, that she’d already passed by everything Hypatia had warned her about.
Smart thing to do would be to forfeit. She’d give up the position she’d earned, but at least she’d spare herself the pain and humiliation of trying to fight in the state she was in.
However, how much worse would it be knowing she hadn’t even tried to fight for it? She could still try to fight for it. There was the chance she could win, no matter how marginal.
Who was she kidding? There was no chance to win. If she did fight, it would only be to prove she would go down fighting, even to the bitter end.
Aimilia took a small step toward the rune, but before she could reach it, there was a flurry of movement.
Prisca said, “There is—”
Aimilia blinked, and then Nikias was between her and the rune. He dropped down to one knee, bowing his head as he clasped his fist and pressed it to his heart. His voice rang out. “Commander Aimilia, I offer myself to you as your champion in this challenge.”
Cyprian’s expression shifted, eyeing Nikias warily.
Aimilia couldn’t believe it.
What did he think he was doing? What was his end goal here?
Nikias looked up, his hair falling back, and she had nowhere to look but his dazzling green eyes. “It would be my highest honor to fight for you, if you would grant it to me.”
Aimilia’s eyes darted around. Cyprian’s expression was dark, but he didn’t seem as furious as she would have thought.
Had he been expecting this?
She couldn’t tell if he was surprised or not. Off to the side, Aimilia spotted Queen Clelia. She was outright scowling. So at the very least she was putting on the air that she didn’t approve.
Aimilia stared down at him with a new choice to make. It was completely legal for a champion to take her spot, and if they won, it would be like she had won, and in this instance, she would keep her position. If they lost, it would be like she had lost.
The thing was… Challenges were rare on their own. It was even rarer to have a champion offer themselves up. Even more rare was for that champion to not be either a spouse or a blood relative. Any one of Aimilia’s cousins could have volunteered.
But they hadn’t. Right now her dilemma was that Nikias had.
Of all the gossip and rumors they’d started as of late… You didn’t offer yourself up as a champion, nor did you accept someone as one unless they were intimately connected to you.
To accept Nikias would be to say that any attack against her was an attack against him, that any victory of his was a victory of hers.
And she just couldn’t say that about a man who wasn’t her husband. You couldn’t offer to fight for a woman like this if you didn’t intend on making her your wife.
If Aimilia accepted, it would lock her into an engagement, or she would create the scandal of the century by letting Nikias fight for her and then not marrying him.
Everyone already thought she was his she-wolf. This all but confirmed it. The question after would be whether she’d clean up her reputation by letting him marry her and make her his wife.
The only way Aimilia would win this fight would be if she accepted Nikias’ offer. It was the only hope she had. If she refused…
Nikias’ lips moved, but if he’d said anything, she couldn’t make it out. She took a small step closer, biting her lip when it jostled her broken arm. Nikias’ head tilted back to look up at her as she stared down at him. He whispered, “Please. Let me do this. Let me fight for you.”
Aimilia’s throat was tight, but she didn’t dare cry, not in front of this massive crowd. Aimilia didn’t just have the consequences to think of if she accepted. They didn’t get to just walk away from this if she refused. To reject an offer like this was a grievous insult.
Considering the amount of times she’d already rejected Nikias and embarrassed him in front of everyone, the wrath she would receive from the royal family would be immense. All of Mitis would likely suffer because of her insults.
Unless… if she refused, and she fought, she would lose Mitis, and in that case, Cyprian would either make her marry Nikias or send her into exile.
Aimilia could feel every eye on them. But the only ones she was concerned about at the moment were Nikias’. She whispered, “Why?”
Nikias said, “I could list a thousand reasons why. I don’t know that you’ll believe me, though, deservedly so.”
“Then just pick one.”
“Because I’m sorry, and I’ll do anything to make it up to you. This is what you want. I just want to give it to you.”
Aimilia let out a soft huff. This didn’t get her anywhere close to what she wanted. It only got him closer to what he wanted. This offer wouldn’t fix anything. It would only make her condemnation more severe. There was no way out of this. At least not one where she got what she wanted.
No matter what, she lost.
Nikias shifted again. “Aimilia, please. There are no strings. I don’t expect anything of you. Let me do this for you. Let me win this fight for you. I can’t—I cannot stand on the sidelines and watch this fight. Please, spare me that.”
He was so good at it.
The word yes was on the tip of her tongue. The longer she stared at him, the closer she got to believing him.
But she couldn’t.
She couldn’t let herself believe a word out of his mouth ever again. But it hurt. It still hurt.
Because she loved him.
At least, she loved this Nikias, the one kneeling in front of her, promising her the world.
And she hated him.
She hated the Nikias that was kneeling in front of her, so artfully hiding his victory under his pleas. No matter what Aimilia chose, she had lost, and Nikias had won, at least.
That was what he thought.
Aimilia would not let him win.
She lifted her chin, and her voice echoed across the amphitheater. “I refuse. I will accept no champion.”
Nikias’ eyes widened, and his face lost all color.
Hushed murmurs ripped through the crowd, but Aimilia refused to look at them.
She refused to look over at Queen Clelia.
She just watched as Nikias shot to his feet, closing the distance between them.
He reached for her arm, fingers wrapping around her skin.
“Aimilia, don’t do this. You’re not thinking clearly.
You cannot win this fight with your arm injured like that.
You’re going to lose. You’re going to get hurt. ”
Aimilia jerked back, wincing as she jostled her arm. She spat out, “Then I lose on my terms, not yours. Did you really think I was going to fall for it?”
Cyprian cleared his throat. “I believe my niece has given her answer. There is no taking it back now.”
Prisca nodded. She said, “Your Highness, you must back away. The challenge must commence.”
Nikias didn’t move until Prisca grabbed his arm and tugged on it. Nikias stumbled away, his eyes never leaving her. Aimilia just looked across at Cyprian. She took a deep breath.
Aimilia stepped into the rune. It glowed brighter and expanded. Walls came up, marking the arena in which they would fight.
Aimilia straightened her shoulders. It didn’t matter how painful or humiliating this was going to be. Aimilia would lose on her own terms. She would be sent into exile before she ever let herself be trapped into having Nikias’ name on her wrist.