Chapter 42
My fingers skim the delicate gold piping on my pants as I join the other competitors at the ballroom doors. Three weeks ago, fifty eager competitors crowded this space. And now, with the final trial in two days, only nine remain.
I scowl at the bird wings perched on each of my shoulders and clench my hands into fists. On the other side of the double doors, Caelus sits on a stolen throne, the blood of my fallen subjects on his hands.
Ahead of me, Kressa stiffens and scans the hallway.
Briar?
I freeze and reel in my emotions as I ease my mental door shut. She cranes her neck and furrows her brow, but the doors swing open, stealing her attention.
A permafrost settles in the air and claws at the skin beneath my clothes.
“King Caelus is pleased to present the final competitors in The Gales.”
Applause sweeps the room, and I lift my head to the dais. Ice travels in a thick wave down the throne, and frost covers the raised platform. Caelus’s icy eyes scan us, his golden hair sweeping away from his face.
And beside him, Isolde.
Her skin is pallid, her hair coiled and twisted like snakes hanging down her front. She sits, almost not because she wants to, but because her legs cannot support her should she try to stand.
I take in the ice—the sheer power being drained from her for this display. Caelus must know she’s on the brink of death. And I’ve kept her here, asking for three weeks before she escapes.
My heart aches, twisting behind my ribcage. Seeing her like this tears a hole through my chest.
Icicles drip down the chandeliers like stalactites, and we fan out in front of the dais. I dip into a bow and my attention snags on Isolde once again.
She doesn’t know me as Harriet, but our eyes lock nonetheless. I allow my gaze to soften—to send whatever comfort I can her way. She brushes her attention over me and scans the rest of the room, landing on the courtesan table.
Where she won’t find me.
Her shoulders sag.
It takes all my strength not to rub away the furrow between her brows and pull her into my arms. Say a promise against her temple that I’ll never leave her. One I’m not entirely sure I can keep—not anymore.
“Welcome.” Caelus rises from his throne in a white suit. A velvet cloak drapes over his shoulders, falling to the marble floor in a sheet of midnight blue. “Before we begin, we have something to attend to. It has occurred to me that one of our competitors isn’t who they say they are.”
Every muscle in my body goes taut, and ice shoots down the stairs, cresting down each step like a wave. It wraps around our ankles, shackling us into place. It creeps up my ankle and dips beneath the hem of my pants.
My pulse pounds in my ears, and I shift my feet, testing the strength of the ice, but it doesn’t budge.
Caelus strides to the edge of the dais and halts in front of me, his hands clasped behind his back. A bead of sweat gathers at my brow, freezing over as a chill sweeps the air.
I’ve been exposed.
He smiles. “Would anyone like to come forward?”
The hair on the back of my neck stands on edge, and I run my finger over the curve of my dagger.
Kressa clenches her hands into fists, and her voice breaks through my mind. Did you tell him who I really am?
My heart lurches, and I hold my breath. I shouldn’t answer, but I can’t let her think I told Caelus her secret—not if I’m minutes away from my execution. I would never.
Her hands relax, and she glances over her shoulder, as if searching the crowd for me. But I can feel you. You’re terrified.
I swallow. I am. Whatever happens next, please—
“Last night,” Caelus says, “we caught a ship maneuvering around unguarded water north of the castle.”
My fingers go numb, and the blood drains from my face.
Kressa, I whisper in my mind.
She doesn’t respond. Her throat bobs, and she lowers her gaze to the floor.
“Our fleet captured it, and we thoroughly questioned the crew. Most of them wouldn’t talk, even with our methods, but the final one did. And he gave us a name.”
My breaths grow rapid, and my chest tightens. I can’t breathe. Evening sunlight reflects off the ice in the room, blinding me. I slam into Kressa’s mind over and over again, but I’m locked out.
He’s going to kill her.
He regards us down the bridge of his nose with a sneer painted on his face. Isolde hasn’t so much as shifted in her seat, as frozen as the ice encasing my ankles.
The king pivots on his heel. “Very well then. I was going to offer a swift death should he speak up, but now I’m not feeling as generous.”
His booted footsteps echo through the room, and he stops in front of Kressa. A wicked smile twists his lips, and my heart thunders, fingers gripping my dagger.
“Simon, you are under arrest.”
My hands go slack. The ice around Simon’s feet thaws, yet his eyes are calm and clear. Like he was expecting this. Ice crackles at the edges of Caelus’s fingers and forms icicles sharper than a blade.
Simon turns on his heel and bolts down the aisle. A guard blocks his path, but a sheet of ice throws the man out of the way.
“He’s mine,” Caelus growls.
Ice shoots through the air and plunges between Simon’s shoulders, piercing skin. He stumbles to his knees, but rights himself as blood pours from his back. He clears the archway, but ice materializes beneath his feet and he slips, slamming to the ground.
He manages to stand, but ice captures his feet and roots him to the spot. My stomach hollows out, tears burning at the back of my throat. Simon straightens his shoulders and steels his back, stoic.
He nods at Kressa.
The temperature plummets, and a shard of ice shoots down the aisle, plunging into Simon’s chest. It rips him from the ice and spears him to the wall.
A solitary scream echoes from the crowd. Simon’s head lolls to the side, and blood streams down the stone, staining the floor as his breathing stops. My tongue turns to cotton. A guard strides to the doors and grabs the handles, but they freeze over.
“Leave them open, as a warning to the rest of the competitors,” Caelus snarls. His black pupils are stark against his pale blue eyes. “You may take your seats.”
The ice around my ankles thaws, puddling at my feet. I hesitate. If Caelus has an announcement, now would be the time to share it. But he takes his seat at the throne.
We bow as a group, but I don’t sink nearly as low as the others. I twist my head and catch Kressa’s gaze, her bow as shallow as mine.
Caelus dismisses us and turns to an advisor over his shoulder. “Where is my courtesan?”
I stiffen and pause at the back of the line. Beside me, a muscle feathers in Kressa’s jaw, but her gaze is fixed on the floor.
“I’ll find her,” the advisor says.
“Good. I’ll be needing the entertainment tonight.”
Competitors filter around me. Everyone but Kressa, hands in fists at her sides.
Caelus tilts his chin at her. “You look disappointed. Don’t tell me you actually thought Briar was interested in you? It’s her job, after all, to make people feel important.”
Kressa opens her mouth. Closes it. Her eyes dim. Anger coils in my stomach like an iron, hot enough to melt the frost encrusting his throne.
Isolde stiffens and leans forward, her gaze raking over me, then Kressa. “Ah, Kressa, right? I’ve heard a lot about you from Briar. She’s particularly good at getting close to her marks, gaining their trust. Isn’t she?”
I freeze. A ringing fills my ears and drowns my pounding heart. She wouldn’t.
Caelus stiffens, lip curled as he regards Isolde. “You are only to speak when permitted. Remember your place.”
Ignoring him, she smiles, stands, and climbs down the dais until she’s an inch away from Kressa. On a whisper too quiet for Caelus to hear, she says, “Tell me, Kressa, does Briar taste sweet to you, too?”
Kressa jerks forward.
I throw out an arm. “Don’t.”
Kressa swallows and presses her lips together. Her hand rubs at her chest, right where my power sank into her.
Isolde smiles, eyes twinkling. “Ah, you don’t know, do you? The softness of her skin, her touch?” She clicks her tongue. “What a shame.”
A muscle tics in Kressa’s jaw, and despite her mind being shut off, her emotions slam into me.
Fire hot rage. A cool wave of doubt. A stab of betrayal.
The mixed feelings churn in my stomach and turn sour.
Leaning forward, Isolde whispers, “The sounds she makes for me are divine.”
Before Kressa has a chance to react, Isolde turns on her heel and lifts her gown, climbing the dais. Caelus sends her a scathing look, his knuckles blanched against the armrests. An aching hurt spreads through my body, directly from Kressa.
My lip curls. “Don’t you dare speak about her like that.”
Isolde whips around, eyes piercing me. “Which one? Your whore, or mine?”
I bare my teeth and wrap my fingers around the hilt of my dagger, but a hand snakes around the crook of my elbow and jerks my hand from my pocket. Nails dig into my arm.
“Harriet,” Thea breathes, her eyes wild. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Her fingers tremble as she drops into a low curtsy. “Your majesties. It’s a pleasure.”
Caelus glares at her. “With a pirate, Thea? You know better.”
Thea gives a shaky nod and drags me behind her, the runner muffling our footsteps. Nobles gawk as we pass, but a violin fills the air with a wistful tune, and servers pour from every doorway with plates held over their heads.
I tug at Thea, but she snarls and tightens her grip on my arm. She doesn’t relent until we’re in a secluded archway at the back of the ballroom.
She slams me into the stone wall. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
Music and the clang of silverware drowns out her voice.
I cross my arms. “Didn’t you hear what was being said about you?”
“You don’t think I’ve heard that hundreds of times? I’m a courtesan, Briar.”
I slap my hand over her mouth and peer over her shoulder. “Harriet.”
She glares and rips my hand away. “People think they own me, but I know they don’t. I’ve made my peace with how I’m treated,”—she shoves me again—“so don’t you dare get yourself killed trying to protect my name.”
Her final words come out in a waver, and her eyes well with tears. A single one spills over.
My face softens, and I wipe the tear away with my thumb. “Do you remember how to get to the safe house?”
She glances out the windows overlooking Sarenia, the sun sinking low against the horizon. “Yes.”
“The ship they seized was your escape, so when the dancing starts, you’ll leave.
” I cradle her face with my hands. “Do you understand? Now that everyone has seen you with me, it’s only a matter of time until Caelus orders someone to execute you.
Go straight to Rita’s, and I’ll meet you there in the morning. ”
Her lower lip quivers, but she nods.
I wipe another tear away. “We’ll figure something out after I win the competition. When I have that ship—”
Kressa rounds the corner, cutting off my words.
“Where is she?” she says, voice harsh. Yet her eyes are soft. Sad.
Thea tilts her head. “Who?”
“Briar.” Kressa swallows, as if it pains her to say my name. “I need to talk to her.”
“She’s running late,” Thea says. “Had a bit of a wardrobe malfunction with the dress Caelus delivered.”
Over Kressa’s shoulder, Caelus strides between tables and holds conversation with nobles. But his attention isn’t on them. No, he’s scanning the room.
My stomach hollows. He’s looking for me.
I lower my mouth to Thea’s ear. “We need to go. Now.”
Her gaze settles on the king, and her eyes widen.
I grab her arm. “Let’s go.”
We sidestep around Kressa, and I find Marianne across the room. I pull Thea closer. “Go tell them it’s time. I’ll meet you in our room.”
She nods and we break apart, heading in opposite directions.
The guards don’t so much as blink as I leave the ballroom. Simon’s lifeless body comes into view, and my chest constricts. Blood seeps to the floor and swirls in the trees etched on the tile.
Bile climbs up my throat, but my heart beats for only one thing.
Revenge.