CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE #2
The reminder is a much-needed splash of cold water to the face. I push against him again. “They’re gone. We can get out of here.”
“Come on.” His hand at my lower back brings me flush against him. “Let’s make a trade. I’ll tell you anything you like—all you have to do is answer something for me.”
My mind staggers under the weight of a thousand questions. Did he murder his father? Why does he want to be Praeceptor? Is he the imposter Shadow Queen?
I can’t ask any of this, but he’s trapped me in this wardrobe and is far, far too close. I swallow. “What do you want to know?”
“Tell me about Eteria.” His voice is silky smooth. “I’ve been going over it in my mind and I can’t figure out how you pulled it off.”
“Fine. I’ll tell you.” I lick my lips nervously and meet his eyes. There’s a hunger in them. He’s desperate to understand how I bested him. I can see it. How the questions have been gnawing at him, torturing him.
I open my mouth to answer. His breath catches, his grip loosens—and I shove out of the wardrobe while he’s distracted.
I stumble back quickly, putting distance between us.
Kaidren and I stand on opposite ends—me alongside the bed, him near the open wardrobe—eyeing each other warily, as if we’re feral silverwolves, pawing at the ground, preparing to pounce.
I force myself to smirk as if he doesn’t terrify me. “Eteria? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I move to crouch near the hole in the floor, but Kaidren snatches my arm.
“What are you doing?” I scowl. “We’re going to miss the meeting.”
“Then I guess we miss it. Tell me about Eteria or I’ll scream. Loud enough someone will come running. Whoever shows up, I’ll tell them how I caught you here, spying on the Tournament committee.”
My pulse jumps with his threat, but I keep my voice steady. “I’ll deny it. Everyone knows you’re a liar.”
“Maybe. But you’d still have to explain what you’re doing here.”
“As would you.”
“I don’t know these halls. I got lost.” He shrugs. “What’s your excuse?”
I’m glaring so hard, I hope he bursts into flames. “You wouldn’t.”
His eyes are bright with the challenge. “I would.”
Damn him and everything he loves, because I’m freezing. Figures this would be the only time he chooses to tell the truth.
My nails dig half circles into my palms. “I hate you.”
“The feeling is mutual. Now answer me.”
“It was easy. I had Luc get the name and source of the aikkari participants, and I wrote them down. All I had to do was put it in your robes.”
“What about that spear? It fired at a civilian. Surely, you wouldn’t risk someone getting hurt?”
I make a show of rolling my eyes. “I paid an aikkari to make sure the spear didn’t hit anyone. I paid him double to keep quiet.”
Kaidren blinks slowly, mulling it over. “That’s it? But that was so . . . simple.”
“The best schemes are. Less to go wrong.”
He studies me for several seconds, before sighing and releasing me. “Fine. Your turn. What do you want to know?”
“What did they tell you about the second trial?”
He smirks. “Absolutely nothing.”
I’m shocked it’s the truth. “That was a wasted question.”
Kaidren looks impossibly smug. “Then ask another. I’ve got plenty lined up for you.”
I’m not playing any more of his games. Rather than answer, I shoot a scowl his way and resume my stoop to listen to the rest of the meeting.
“—handle getting someone to zone the crest of the mountain in advance. We don’t have much time, so we need to work quickly.”
There are murmurs of assent from the rest of the committee.
Virdei spans most of Mount Saidu, and Widow’s Hall sits just below the crest—that final steep slope before the peak.
The crest is dangerous. A barren wasteland of treacherous winds and steep drop-offs, and it’s streaked with ribbons of ice. If the next trial takes place up there, Luc will be in way out of his depth. We both will.
I keep watch over the hole in the floor for the next several minutes, listening to every word spoken, but they don’t drop any more hints. By the end, all I know is that Luc and Kaidren will be at the crest for the next trial, and I have no idea what they’ll be asked to do.
I hate being caught unprepared. Not knowing will eat away at me, all the way up until the trial.
Kaidren, on the other hand, is grinning.
“I can’t wait to watch you lose. I suppose I’ll see you at the next trial.
Unless . . .” He tilts his head to the side, feigning confusion.
“Will I see you at tomorrow’s council meeting?
” Then his eyes widen, as though making a realization.
“Oh. Wait. I forgot. Only Honorate allowed. What’s your role here, again? Pawn for your brother? What a shame.”
My eyes narrow. Is he merely taunting me, or hinting at something more? The imposter Shadow Queen ordered Sixmen to resign from the Honorate at the next council meeting—tomorrow. Is Kaidren smug because of the second trial, or smug because he knows what’s to come?
There are so many things I want to ask, but with a smirk that makes my skin crawl, he leaves without answering any of them.