Chapter Fourteen
Elysia
Everyone had been assigned their own room, but it didn’t last long.
By the time the moon rose high in the small window of my room, Thalia and Lisbeth had dragged their blankets, cloaks, and pillows into mine.
My room was at the end of the hall, nestled in the corner where fewer footsteps pass.
It felt safer, tucked away from the main corridor, and none of us liked the idea of sleeping alone, not after the whispers Virelle shared.
We’d made a nest of mismatched fabrics and soft layers across the floor, curling in together like children at a sleepover.
I’d woken at least twice in the night to see Thalia’s fingers holding my own and noticed Lisbeth sleeping with her boots still on like she was ready to run at a moment’s notice.
We hadn’t talked about it throughout the late hours, but it was clear none of us had expected a peaceful night.
The sound of a guard’s voice echoed up the stairwell, breaking the stillness of the early morning. “Chosen! Rise and prepare. Inspection begins at first light!”
A groan escapes from somewhere in the pile of blankets beside me. “Tell me that guard’s voice was a bad dream and we don’t have to get up now,” Lisbeth mutters, voice thick with sleep.
“No such luck,” I grunt, pushing off the blanket that is tangled around my legs.
Thalia yawns beside me, blinking blearily, looking like a sweet kitten waking from a nap. “Is it morning already?”
“Apparently,” Lisbeth mumbles, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “I’m happy to report that nothing killed us in our sleep, though I’m still suspicious.”
“Same,” Thalia agrees while stretching her arms above her head. “I barely closed my eyes. Every sound felt like it was coming for us.”
I nod in agreement, too tired to voice words yet. My limbs ache with fatigue, not from strain but from the half-sleep state I’d hovered in all night. Even with Thalia and Lisbeth in the room with me, the shadows in the corners and near the door had me on edge every time I caught sight of them.
Though what haunts me more than anything this morning is that my elf didn’t come.
No familiar pull. No comforting weight of his presence.
Only flickers of images had rolled through my mind throughout the few moments of sleep I got. A glimpse of a crown. Fingers brushing the edge of silver filigree. Cold metal settling against my forehead.
Just a whisper of what could happen now that we are here.
We descend quietly to the common area, the chill of the stone floor seeping through the soles of my boots with every step.
The hearth still burns low, but the room has already begun to stir with activity.
Guards move between tables, checking notes and glancing toward the entrance, their voices low and clipped.
All eighteen women from the western lands are already present and seated together in their same arrangement from the night before.
They look well-rested, their hair neatly braided or pinned, cloaks hanging straight without wrinkles as if they didn’t need them for the cold.
Not a single one appears groggy or disheveled.
It hits me then that they’re likely used to a more frigid temperature, living beneath the gray-and-black clouds of the Nithrin that block out the majority of the sun their lands could get.
Lisbeth steps closer and lowers her voice to a whisper. “Only ten of us are here.”
I turn to her sharply. Her eyes are narrowed and guarded, while the edge of her voice is tinged with alarm.
“What do you mean?”
“I counted,” she says quietly, glancing toward the remaining women from our lands. “There were thirteen women from our half last night. Only ten showed up this morning.”
Thalia’s face pinches slightly. “Maybe the others decided to leave early? Went home with their guards? Maybe … maybe they got scared.”
Her voice falters near the end, like she doesn’t believe her own theory.
I don’t either.
As the guards move to the center of the room, calling for silence, I angle my body toward the woman with green eyes and vibrant red hair. The same one whose stare lingered too long on me last night.
She’s already seated near the edge of the table, posture relaxed and expression neutral … too neutral. There’s no trace of any emotion, unlike everyone else who shares concern.
The guards begin to speak, asking us if we know where the remaining offerings from the east are. Their tone isn’t concerned. It’s expectant, as though they already know they won’t get an answer but have to do their job anyway.
Still, the woman with red hair says nothing.
I keep my eyes on her, not wanting to miss even a flicker of anything malicious in her eyes or expression.
The guards exchange a glance and turn without another word, heading upstairs. I presume to check the rooms of the missing women themselves. The heavy thud of boots on steps echoes up the stairwell as silence settles uneasily among us.
A voice breaks that silence, a trembling shout from the far side of the room that draws my attention despite not wanting to take my eyes off the redhead.
“How dare you take the life of a fellow offering whose fate was decided for her to come here! How dare you kill her for that!”
It comes from a small woman with delicate features and bright lavender eyes. Her voice cracks under the weight of her despair and several others flinch at the sound.
Virelle is on her feet in a breath, pulling the girl gently but firmly back down into her seat.
“Enough,” she murmurs to her, a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t know what happened yet. We don’t know anything for certain.”
The tension has already ignited, with eyes from both sides of the room narrow and accusatory. A low hum of whispers ripples through the chosen.
Thayus lets out a deep warning growl as his hackles rise and he takes a step toward the grouping of women with my suspect in it. Virelle calls for him to sit, but he remains fixated on the group, clearly warning them if they try anything with him around, they’ll pay dearly.
The guards return a moment later, their footsteps heavy and purposeful.
“That dog has to stay here in your room today. The Priestess won’t allow it,” one of them barks out in Virelle’s direction, but doesn’t make a move to try to ensure it happens. His eyes remain fixated on the growling hound as his neck moves with a purposeful swallow.
I can’t help but smirk at his open fear of Thayus. So they were all too afraid to tell Virelle he wasn’t allowed in the building to begin with.
Another guard steps forward and speaks clearly. “Virea from Tramir, Sylvette from Norwynth, and Ceryn from Varinholt are confirmed deceased.”
The words drop like heavy stones in the room. No ceremony. No sorrow. Just a matter-of-fact announcement, as though death is merely part of the process.
The guards move on, already calling for lines to be formed in preparation for us to leave the building.
As if nothing at all is out of place and there isn’t a murderer amongst us.
Lisbeth lets out a soft, audible gasp beside me, one hand rising to her mouth.
Her eyes widen in a flash of realization, and she leans in quickly, her voice sharp and urgent.
“Elysia … all three of those villages— Tramir, Norwynth, and Varinholt—those are all eastern territories that had queens chosen from them after the Blood War. I remember it from the records in the archives.”
Thalia’s breath catches. “Lisbeth … what are you saying?”
“That someone’s killing off the chosen from territories tied to past queens,” Lisbeth finishes grimly.
“I’d bet that whoever is doing this killed whoever they came into contact with on the way, but their targets changed when they got here.
When they met each chosen and learned where they were from. ”
A chill slides down my spine.
Her voice trembles slightly now as she allows her confident mask to drop for a brief second. “There’s only one chosen left from a territory that has had a chosen queen on our side of the mountains. Me.”
A target has been painted on her back, clear as ink.
I take a long look at her, noting the tension in her jaw, the flicker of fear she tries to mask, and resolve blossoms within me.
No matter what this selection turns into, no matter how many secrets these walls hold, I won’t let her fall next.
A hush falls over the room as the guards begin moving with renewed purpose after Virelle takes Thayus upstairs and returns. One by one, they order us into two lines, the scrape of boots and whispered orders breaking the thick tension that’s taken hold of the room.
We follow, falling into place as we’re led out of the inn and down a winding path that curves toward the northern starting point of the Sacrum Mountains, just shy of the coastline, where a thin strip of land between the western and eastern lands isn’t blocked off.
The air grows colder as we descend the slope, the scent of salty water carried on the wind as we approach the base of the mountain. Up ahead, something glimmers in the distance.
A barrier, perhaps. Not made of stone or wood, but something … otherworldly. Ethereal.
Is this magic?
It shimmers like glass bathed in moonlight, casting fractured light across the grass. At first glance, it seems like nothing more than a mirage, but as we near, it pulses softly. No doubt a veil of magic that conceals whatever lies beyond it.
I blink and squint, trying to see through it, but it reveals nothing. Just light and shadow and the faint hum of energy teasing my skin as we approach.
My mouth opens as I take in a deep breath, preparing to run smack into it, but then we simply pass through it, one by one.