Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Eirabella
Master Gavrik’s voice is calm, almost soothing, as he instructs me to focus on the empty glass in front of me. I stare at it, willing the water to rise, to fill the glass, to do anything. But nothing happens. The glass remains depressingly empty, a testament to my failure.
“You can do this, Eira,” Master Gavrik says softly, his voice full of encouragement. “The power is within you. You just need to trust yourself.”
His kindness should be comforting, but instead, it only frustrates me more. I almost, almost miss Rylan’s harsh commands, his relentless pushing. At least with him, I felt like I was being driven toward something, even if it was gruelling. Now, I’m stuck here, still struggling with the simplest task, and it feels like I’m going backward instead of forward.
Nearby, Doran, Master Gavrik’s actual disciple, is practising some of his own manoeuvres. He’s a friendly, slightly bumbling man with an impressively unkempt head of untamed red curls, controlling an impressive swirl of water that hovers in the air before collapsing into a controlled splash. It’s nothing compared to what Rylan can do, but it’s still far beyond anything I’m managing.
I watch Doran’s water disappear into the wind with a mixture of envy and frustration. How can he do that when I can’t even fill a glass? The pressure of the upcoming Keeper trial presses down on me. How am I supposed to succeed when I can’t even get the basics right?
The door swings open, and I’m almost relieved for the distraction. That is, until I see who’s entered.
An older woman Brienne pointed out to me as Mistress Manoram strides onto the field. She doesn’t even glance in our direction, as if we’re beneath her notice. Behind her is her disciple, Selene. The moment she steps onto the field, it’s like all the air is sucked out of it. Selene is beautiful, tall, and lithe, and the way she carries herself makes it clear she knows it. But more than that, she’s skilled and strong—terrifyingly so.
“Selene,” Mistress Manoram commands with a single word.
Selene moves forward with a grace that’s almost predatory. She faces a massive stone column that’s been set up in the middle of the training grounds and, with a single gesture, summons a powerful spray of water. The force of it is incredible, pushing the stone back, carving deep grooves into its surface. It’s a display of raw power and control, and I can’t help but feel a pang of inadequacy watching her.
Doran and I exchange a look, silently acknowledging Selene’s showoff nature. Then we both roll our eyes at the same time and bite back simultaneous grins. It’s a small moment of camaraderie, but it helps lighten the tension, even if just for a moment .
Doran whispers with a grimace. “She’s always like that, always has to make sure everyone knows she’s the best.”
I manage a weak smile, but inside, I’m spiralling. If this is the level I’m expected to reach, how am I supposed to stand a chance?
After another few minutes of being forced to watch Selene execute one impressive manoeuvre after the other, we all move to the combat room for my first session of paired sparring. The room is loud with the sounds of panting students, bodies hitting the mat, the clang of metal on metal. My stomach twists with nerves, but I push the feeling down. I’ve faced worse than this, haven’t I?
Chasina pairs me first with Selene for a sparring match, giving me a tight look. The moment we start, it’s clear I’m outmatched. Selene moves like a panther, all fluid angles and precise strikes. I barely have time to react before I’m on the mat, the wind knocked out of me.
“Come on,” Selene taunts, circling me as I struggle to get up. “You want to be the next Aquilith? You know that means you’re going to have to beat me, though, right?”
Her words sting, but it’s the way she looks at me—like I’m nothing—that ignites a fire in my chest. I jump to my feet and lunge at her. Her leg swipes mine, making me stumble off the mat.
“Is this really the best you can do?” she sneers. “No wonder Prince Rylan left. Even he couldn’t stand to see you fail.” The taunt cuts deeper than I’d like to admit, and I can feel the anger rising within me. Selene’s watching me closely as I round her, a smirk playing on her lips as she sees my fury build. “Or maybe,” she continues, her voice dripping with mock sympathy, “he realised you’re just a waste of time. A failure. He’s probably off looking for your replacement.”
That’s it. Something inside me snaps, and I rush at her, all anger and desperation. I don’t care about technique, don’t care about anything other than wiping that smug look off her face. But she’s ready for me, easily sidestepping my attack and sending me crashing to the mat again. The fury in my body has me grabbing at Selene’s leg, and I yank her down on the mat with me, and I’m straddling her in a matter of seconds. I pound my fist into her face, ignoring the feel of cracking cartilage as I shower down punch after punch on her.
The other students rush in, pulling us apart before I can cause any serious damage.
“You’ll fucking pay for that, you bitch,” Selene hisses at me through bloodstained teeth, freeing one arm from Mistress Manoram’s hold and swiping at my face, a layer of my skin catching under her nails.
“I’d like to see you try!” I scream, ignoring the pain, thrashing against the bodies holding me back.
Master Gavrik steps in, his face stern. “Eirabella, that’s enough. You need to learn to control yourself.”
He’s right, of course, but the anger and humiliation are too raw, too fresh. Selene is dragged out of the room to the healer while I’m doled out a list of gruelling physical punishments—two hundred push-ups, two hundred sit-ups, and ten laps of the absolutely enormous training field.
I complete each and every exercise.
It’s harsh, pushing me to the brink of collapse, but I don’t argue. I just do it, the pain almost a relief from the frustration and self-loathing gnawing at me.
By the time I finish, it’s dark outside, and I’m barely standing, my body trembling with exhaustion. My muscles scream in protest with every movement, and my vision blurs from the effort of staying upright. Julietta enters the combat room as I collect my things, her presence immediately grating on my nerves. She’s all smiles as she approaches me, but there’s nothing genuine in her gaze.
“My, my, Eirabella,” she says with a smirk. “You look positively dreadful. Training not going well, I take it?”
I grit my teeth, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response.
Julietta leans in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Rylan would be interested to see his disciple was looking…as capable as this.” She sniffs. “That is how he describes you, you know. When he’s defending you to everyone telling him you’re a lost cause. Capable. ”
She spits the word as if it’s the dirtiest word she’s ever heard. And to be fair, it doesn’t sound like such a compliment to me either.
“When did he say that?” my mouth betrays me before I can clamp it shut.
“Oh, just late last night, since he had to leave early this morning.”
Her words twist like a knife. Rylan spoke to her last night? Of course, he did. And here I am, left behind to fend for myself while he’s off doing whatever it is that princes do.
“Good for him,” I snap, trying to mask the hurt and… jealousy, with anger. “But I repeat, I couldn’t care less what he says.”
Julietta’s smile widens, and she pats my cheek condescendingly. “Such spirit. I wonder how long it will last.” She turns and walks away, leaving me standing there, seething. But her words have done their damage.
After today, it’s clear.
I cannot stay here. I can’t keep doing this, playing the castle games, struggling against impossible odds.
As I stand there, broken in body and spirit, the decision crystallises in my mind.
I have to leave.
I’ll figure out what to do about my village friends later, but right now, I need to get out of this place.
What about Rylan’s deal? a niggling voice spears into my mind.
What about him?
Rylan brought me here, but he’s gone, leaving me to fend for myself. If that’s how it’s going to be, then he’s on his own. Just as I’m on mine.
And it’s time to act like it.
I manage to tidy myself up and drag myself to the dining hall. Luckily, Doran sees me as I walk in and waves me over to the empty seat next to him. Over the course of the meal, we become fast friends, talking about our homesickness and a shared love of reading. Long after the plates have been cleared away and the king and queen have left, Doran and I sit chatting and chuckling over a shared glass of wine as he gives me encouragement over my training. I feel more at peace than I have since I first arrived. And I’m about to tell him so when Caelum stomps past us, his usually cheery face marred by frustration.
“Hey! Do you two know anything about riddles?” he asks, plopping down in the vacated seat next to me.
“Aren’t you afraid the crown prince will beat you up for talking to me?” I taunt him.
“No, Stumpy. And not just because he’s not here,” he grins. “Now, can you help me with this or not?” he says, waving a piece of parchment. “It’s just the most devious puzzle I’ve ever encountered. And I’ve encountered a lot. ”
I can’t help but raise an eyebrow. It’s well known in the castle that Caelum is notoriously fond of and good at puzzles—his mind works in ways that leave most people in the dust. For him to be stumped by one? That’s rare. Luckily for him… I’m no slouch at them either. The joy of puzzles was another love fucking Samfer passed on to me.
“What’s so hard about it?” I ask, genuinely intrigued.
Caelum slaps the parchment dramatically. “I’ve been at it for hours, and I can’t crack the key.”
Doran holds his hands up in surrender, but I reach out for it. “Let me see.”
He hands it over with an exaggerated sigh, clearly expecting me to be as stumped as he is. I look down at the parchment, and it’s more complex than I expected. Symbols arranged in rows, interspersed with numbers and letters. At first glance, nothing aligns perfectly, but something about it feels… deliberate.
I stare at the puzzle, my mind working through the possibilities. There’s an old method used in complex codes—a layering technique where the key isn’t in the letters themselves but the spaces between them.
“It’s a cipher, but not a simple one,” I murmur, flipping the paper upside down. “It’s a multi-layered code.”
Caelum blinks, leaning in closer. “What?”
I point at the first row of symbols and numbers. “Look, you need to use the numbers as a key to shift the symbols first, and then they correspond to the alphabet. But the letters are scrambled in reverse order.”
His eyes widen as he watches me work through the code in my head.
“I’m pretty sure the answer is, er, let me see, ‘Thrice blessed,’ ” I say, handing the parchment back to him. “Whatever that means. ”
Caelum stares at me, his eyes wide. “I know what it means, but… how did you figure that out so quickly?”
I hesitate, the memories surfacing, uninvited. “My, er, guardian, liked puzzles,” I say, my voice quieter. I refuse to say his name out loud. He’s part of the reason I’m stuck in this mess, after all. “He liked to test me sometimes.”
Caelum looks at me for a moment, like he’s trying to understand more, but instead, he lets out a low whistle. “Well, remind me never to challenge you to a riddle contest.”
I stand up from the table with a chuckle. “Maybe you’re not as clever as you think.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “Oh, no, I’m exactly as clever as I think. It’s just that you might be cleverer.”
I don’t respond, but as I take Doran’s offered arm as we walk away, I let the smallest smile tug at my lips. I’ll take any win I can right now.