CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The stairs of the winding tower were just as unwelcoming as the first time I greeted them. Air still reeking of mildew, we tip-toed around cracks and divots, hands against the walls to keep steady.
It didn’t take long for my competitors’ clothing to transform, threads of magic weaving into the leather material to replace it with soft swaths of silk and lace.
Within moments, an elegant ruby gown draped itself over my body, bodice snug while the rest of it flowed loosely around my legs.
Without any slits in the sides, it made it nearly impossible to keep climbing.
Goosebumps prickled along my bare arms and shoulders as the cold nipped at my skin.
We stopped at floor number five, which revealed a dining room large enough to sit fifty people. But the table pushed off to the right was set only for two.
Small candles floated around the room, suspended by a magic that allowed them to roam as they wished, casting the space in a soft glow.
Black stone composed each wall. Encrusted with diamonds, like the outside of the castle.
They were all bare, save for the flickering light of the candles, and a lone portrait to the left, whose white-haired muse I could not bother to name.
His silver eyes followed me while my footsteps clacked against the polished floor, courtesy of the heels that had replaced my boots.
Comforting scents of roast venison wafted through my nostrils, mingling with spiced vegetables, steaming on a nearby rolling tray.
The guard did not breach the threshold, leaving me to face Maverick alone. He noticed me at last, halting his pacing on the wide balcony that peered over the kingdom. With a flick of his hand, the door shut behind me. A nail in my coffin.
“You look beautiful,” Maverick commented, slowly making his way to me. His hands slid into the pockets of his loose fitted pants. Paired with a black tunic and simple fitted overcoat, he was the picture of laid-back regalia. But the tightness around his eyes indicated anything but relaxed.
Nevertheless, his compliment hit home. Warmth blossomed in my stomach. But I had to be careful. One wrong word, and I would doom us all.
It was an effort to keep my head completely clear as I stiffly took a seat at the table, dropping my gaze to my already filled plate.
This wasn’t all that unfamiliar. We’d dined countless times in the past, just him and I. Some meals as formal as this one. Others in the late hours of the night, where it felt like we were just two people, unbound by titles and curses.
He’d been the only one to make me laugh other than Gideon. And I was the only one that managed to crack the mask he so carefully upheld.
On my birthday, he always made sure to have dessert served first, since he knew I preferred sweets over anything else. But I cared little for the food. Only about the fact that he was the only one that celebrated it.
His shoes glinted in my periphery as he stepped to my side. I watched under my lashes, silent, while he grabbed one of the gold-lined cups decorating the table and began to fill it with an overpriced red wine.
He set the cup by my plate. “You’re angry with me.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, fists bunching tightly under the folds of my gown.
“You have every right to be.” He gestured to the food and wine. Aimed for his own seat across from mine. “If you wish to sit in silence, I can respect your wishes. But please, at the very least, eat. Drink.”
I wanted to throw my plate at him. Wanted to tarnish his impeccable ensemble until he looked the mess I felt.
He smirked as though he could sense my thoughts. Like he’d cracked my head open like a book, no more than some light reading.
Gingerly, I plucked a knife and fork laid out amongst twelve other utensils. And with a white-knuckled grip, I cut into the roast. My favorite roast. Took a bite. Chewed.
Cheerful music drifted in through the window, courtesy of the festivities happening below. Almost mocking.
Maverick deftly cut into his own meal. He paused once, taking a long drink from his cup. My eyes followed the movement of his throat.
The single bite I took churned heavily in my stomach.
“Do you like the music?” he asked over the rim of his cup.
The flickering candlelight darkened. One of them hovered right over my shoulder. Briefly, it almost looked as if its shadow split into five different fragments. Each one slid between my fingers, mimicking a lover’s hold. I blinked, and my hand was my own once again.
“I’m going to throw this knife at you.”
He slowly set his cup down. “Say that again?” He spoke softly, but ire was evident in his tone.
The words had a life of their own. They flowed uncontrollably from my lips like a river of poison.
“I’m going to throw this knife. And when I do, best pray the Underworld swallows you entirely.
Because if I make it across this table, you’ll wish you’d disappeared there a long time ago.
” Wood screeched loudly across the floor. Silverware rattled.
“Sit down.”
“No.”
A dangerous light flashed in his eyes. “I said sit.”
“And I said no.”
“You will do as I say. I am your King.”
“Yes,” I laughed roughly. “As if that fact hasn’t been made disgustingly clear already.”
He rested his elbows on the table, one on each side of his plate. Perched the tips of his fingers together. Praying for patience, perhaps. “I can tolerate your anger. I will even respect it. All I ask kindly for in return—”
“You don’t ask for anything. You do as you please.
But you had no right to plant that nightmare in my head.
None!” I roared, pointing the knife at him.
Again, the candles dimmed. More fragments split in my periphery.
“I don’t care if it was for Courage. I don’t care if you knew I could handle it.
I don’t care if the gods themselves told you to do it.
I am sick of it. Sick of everything in this stars-forsaken kingdom and everyone in it. ”
Beneath his calm demeanor, a beast prowled. Waited. He said nothing, watching me with a predatory focus.
Candles sputtered and coughed, and finally, they were back to their normal, soft glow.
And with that light dawned a foreboding sense of horror, its claws digging deep into my shoulders. I hadn’t meant to spew my vitriol so openly, so vehemently. But I’d done it. And I couldn’t take it back now.
“Kill me for my disrespect. Drive this into my heart for all I care.” I tossed the knife across the table.
It clattered loudly by his cup, nearly tipping it over.
He didn’t need it. His magic could kill me on my own two feet without even the lift of a finger.
“Is that not what friends are for?” I asked mockingly.
He remained quiet.
“Fine. Some other time then. I’m leaving.” Putting my back to him, I continued, “I will find the power I deserve. If you stand in my way—”
He was there in an instant, his hands finding my waist. He spun me around and pushed me back so quickly I almost tripped on the hem of my skirts. My spine hit the wall by the open arched window, his snarl inches away from my face.
“If I stand in your way, what then?”
I could barely think, not with the way he pressed against me. I could do nothing but get lost in the abyss of his eyes.
“What exactly will you do, Eloise?” His fingers, digging into my waist and hips, would leave bruises. Power zapped at my veins, sending tingles across my arms, chest, and neck.
I swallowed. “I… I don’t know.”
The line between us was too blurred now. I’d wiped my heel all over it when I’d yelled at him.
His attention snapped to my traitorous lips. He studied them like one would a rare work of art, leaving no detail unmarked. After a long moment, he blew a drawn-out sigh onto my face. Dropped his forehead onto mine. “Liar.”
The accusation terrified me. But he simply stood there, holding me.
Though his grip loosened, it was nowhere near enough for me to slip away.
There was a stubborn possessiveness in the way each finger flexed reluctantly.
As if he feared I would crumble if he let go.
Like I would be carried away on swift winds until the end of time.
His eyes fluttered closed. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” I’d never heard him apologize. Not this sincerely.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, hand lifting to cup the side of my neck. His thumb drew a soft pattern across my cheekbone, the coolness of his skin dousing the blazing heat that emanated from my own. His eyes opened again, searching for mine.
For which of his actions he was apologizing for, he didn’t elaborate. It was for me to decide, I supposed. It wasn’t enough. Not truly. But too many things hung in the balance—including lives that weren’t my own. Secrets that weren’t my own.
It would have to suffice.
For now.
Speechless, I merely nodded, forehead bobbing against his.
Maverick’s thumb traced my cheek a final time before he took a small step back, gesturing to the open balcony.
Even the smooth railing was diamond-encrusted. Beautiful, but provided little reassurance against the several hundred-foot drop below. Forcing my shoulders back, I obliged.
Standing before the twinkling lights of Aedreath, I found that I had little bravado left. I used the final dregs of it to rest my arms on the railing. Pretended I wouldn’t shatter every bone in my body if it failed to keep me from falling.
Maverick did the same, his left elbow close enough to brush my right. “The trials are almost over.”
“Thank the stars.” I searched for the lights of the night markets.
“You must know that I do not take enjoyment in your suffering.”
Found them. Straight ahead, a bit to the east. The Phantom Rivers shimmered further beyond. “Sometimes I find that hard to believe.”
From the corner of my eye, I noticed the small dip of his chin in acknowledgement as he accepted the blow.
“Have you found them?”
I stiffened. “Found who?”
“The traitors. I had suspicions that a high number of them competed among you in the trials. I had told you this, had I not?”