8. Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
Grace
Steam rolled in clouds from the bathroom to Eli’s bedroom, where Grace waited patiently, reading one of his many journals.
It was fascinating to read his notes on his latest research projects—things she’d hardly been interested in before, but now that Eli was so heavily involved, she had a desire to read all of his thoughts.
She was more interested in understanding how his brain worked than the research itself.
The sound of running water came to a halt and Grace laid Eli’s journal on the small table beside the bed. She flipped to her stomach and pulled the clip out of her hair, letting it fall in waves, then propped her head on her palm and waited for Eli to enter the bedroom.
With a soft white towel wrapped around his waist, Eli appeared from behind the bathroom door, halting when he caught sight of Grace posing seductively on his bed.
She smiled, and her eyes roamed his body, still glistening with water.
“I figured you’d be staying home tonight,” he said as he fell on the bed beside her.
She rolled to her side and slipped her hand into his. Warmth flowed from her fingertips through the rest of her body. “I will be. I just wanted to visit you first and see how you were holding up.”
“Checking in on me, hmm?” His charming smile was irresistible as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth.
She watched as a single drop of water moved down his stomach, inching closer to the sparse hairs peeking from below his towel. Suddenly, she felt parched.
“Are you surprised?” she asked, tearing her eyes away from his abdomen.
“I suppose not.”
“Good. You shouldn’t be. You should know by now that I care about you.”
His grip tightened, and he brought their combined hands to his lips, kissing the back of her hand. “I do.”
Grace pushed up into a seated position, her legs hanging off the end of Eli’s bed.
“You sure you don’t want to stay?” he asked, tugging her hand to prevent her from leaving.
“I want to stay, but you need your rest, and my mother is expecting me.” She leaned down to kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning, Eli.”
Before she could pull her hand free, Eli yanked her back toward the bed.
She fell on top of him, and their mouths connected.
His lips were equally as soft and sweet as he was.
Lips that she would get to kiss for the rest of her life, assuming he was successful in completing all three rounds of the Rite.
She smiled as she pulled back, running her hand through his short brown hair and getting lost in his hickory eyes.
She had the utmost confidence in his ability to win, but every time she pictured their future together, a fragment of doubt snuck in.
It was no use dwelling on it. She preferred to pretend it didn’t exist. Pushing it aside, she planted another quick kiss on her future husband’s lips. “Goodnight, Eli.”
“You’re late.” Her mother’s voice drifted into the entryway before the door even had a chance to close behind her. Grace stepped farther into the mountain home she’d grown up in, peering into the study connected to the grand entrance.
Her mother sat swirling a glass of wine, wearing a burgundy robe and a judgmental frown.
Grace leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms. “I said I’d be home. I never said when.”
She almost laughed at her mother’s exaggerated sigh.
It wasn’t that long ago when her mother’s disapproval would’ve destroyed her.
But the older she got and the closer to her future reign, the more she prioritized her own happiness over her mother’s.
It was both freeing and terrifying. For all the tension between them, she still loved her mother.
She wanted her mother to be proud of her—of the person she was, not who her mother hoped she would be.
Maybe one day…
“Are you ready for tomorrow?” her mother asked, tactfully changing the subject.
Grace moved into the room and sat on the couch next to her mother, watching as she grabbed the bottle of angelfruit wine and poured it into a clean glass. She handed it to Grace and tilted her glass in a silent salute.
Something about the informality set Grace at ease. “I am.”
“Not nervous at all?”
She slid her shoes off and propped her feet on the coffee table, knowing it would test her mother’s patience. But her mother bit her tongue and merely waited for Grace’s response. “Should I be?”
“I wasn’t,” her mother confessed, and Grace’s brow rose.
Her mother hadn’t shared much about her own experience with the Rite.
“Unlike you, I went into it with no expectations. No hopes or dreams or some fantastical idea of love. I knew what it was—a political arrangement. I lucked out with your father.”
“Wouldn’t that be all the more reason to worry? What if it had been someone awful?”
Her mother shrugged and sipped the last of the wine from her glass. “I had nothing to lose.”
Placing her empty glass on the table, her mother rose, stumbling a step that had Grace questioning how much she’d had to drink. As she passed, she placed a hand on Grace’s shoulder. “There will come a day when you realize that I only want the best for you.”
Grace woke to bickering voices outside her bedroom door—one lower pitched and a bit cautious, the other frantic.
“She should be up by now,” Heather said.
“Knock again,” Amaya answered. There came the sound of shuffling before Amaya continued, “I’m just going in.”
“But what if she’s—”
“You can come in,” Grace shouted at her two best friends. She sat up and stretched her arms high above her head, the bones in her back cracking in a satisfying chorus.
The door flew open and Amaya came crashing through, jumping on Grace’s bed with too much energy. Heather followed, though she thankfully kept her distance, attempting to give Grace a chance to wake up.
Behind her, a servant entered bearing a tray of assorted fruit, breads, and juice. She laid it at the end of Grace’s bed and left without a word.
“What are you going to wear today?” Amaya asked.
She was already dressed in a pale green sleeveless dress that cinched at her waist and flowed past her knees.
Heather also wore a soft summer dress that slowly morphed from light pink off-the-shoulder sleeves to a bright fuchsia skirt that almost touched the floor.
While the Rite wasn’t officially a formal event, many of the townspeople chose to dress up in the best summer style—bright colors and cool fabric to make it through the day without passing out.
Heather grabbed a glass of juice from the tray and headed toward Grace’s closet. “You’ve only got a hundred dresses to choose from.”
“Grab the white one hanging on the end.”
When Heather emerged, she was holding a white chiffon dress that Grace had chosen days ago. It had one exposed shoulder and hugged her figure in a way that made her feel both sexy and sweet. Plus, the bright fabric would look stunning against her sun-kissed skin and brown curls.
Throwing back the blanket, she dragged her body out of bed and plucked the dress from Heather’s arms, locking herself in the bathroom to change.
Once she finished dressing, she searched for her favorite pair of sandals—the tan woven ones with a small wedge heel. Her friends watched in silence as she slid them on.
“Don’t you want something to eat?” Amaya asked, gesturing to the tray of fruit.
“Not all that hungry this morning.”
Heather and Amaya exchanged looks of concern, but Grace spoke up before they could.
“You don’t need to worry about me. Everything will be fine. Eli has spent weeks training for this. He will make it to the next round.”
Heather’s gaze softened. “What if he doesn’t? Have you considered what will happen?”
Amaya looked like she might slap Heather. Her eyes burned with indignation on Grace’s behalf. “Of course she’s thought about it. Do you think she’s a moron?”
“I’m right here,” Grace said softly. Prior to Eli’s arrival and his declaration of his intent to enter the Rite, she’d given a lot of consideration to who she may have to marry…
and how miserable she’d be for the rest of her life.
But now that she had Eli, there was only one outcome that felt real.
She felt it in her soul that they would have their fairytale ending.
So she didn’t need Heather’s doubts or Amaya’s concerns. She had enough faith for all of them.
Grace looked back and forth between her two friends and spoke it into existence. “Eli is going to win.”
The path leading to the temporary arena was full of excitement.
Children laughed and squealed, their parents chattering and ushering them forward, and vendors lined the path to sell food, drinks, and flower crowns.
In addition to the joy and celebration the Rite brought, artisans and craftsmen had much to gain financially on days like this.
The summer sun had decided for once to give the people of Berland a reprieve, hiding behind scattered clouds.
A light breeze shifted Grace’s hair and let it dance across her neck.
She almost regretted not bringing a shawl, but the sun would likely make an appearance soon and she’d be sweating per usual.
As she walked, familiar faces greeted her from every direction, the vast majority of them kind. Though she knew some of them must be associated with the rebellion and were likely rooting for Trevor to win, eager to see her quick demise, she held her chin high and refused to let them see her falter.
The field where the mud pit was centered had been transformed practically overnight. Temporary stands had been erected on the left and right side of the pit, decorated with the same purple and yellow flowers that adorned every little girl’s head and some of the boys too.
In the center of the stands, a small stage with a canopy tent big enough to hold a dozen was waiting for her and her entourage.
Heather and Amaya would join her as well as her newest guard, Nik.
She felt his presence behind her, close enough to watch but far enough to be discreet.
She’d also invited Ali and Sam, to her mother’s dismay.
Her parents and Theo were already waiting. Despite their chat the prior evening, her mother looked pleased to see her and her brother waved excitedly.
She took her place on stage, on the seat in the center reserved for her, while the others sat in a back row.
They still had a few minutes until the first round would begin, so she waited patiently while the crowd settled into their seats.
She scanned the sea of people for Eli. With all the commotion, she had a hard time focusing, and every face blurred together as she sought him out.
She hadn’t even realized her leg was shaking until Theo placed a hand on it. He smiled when she turned his direction. “It’s going to be okay.”
She knew that. Of course it would be. But for some reason, she found it difficult to form the words.
Then Theo pointed over her shoulder, and she followed his gaze. Near the northwest corner of the pit, Eli and the other suitors had gathered along with three members of the council who would oversee the competition—Diane, Fox, and Eamon.
She hated that he had weaseled his way into this aspect of her life. He should’ve been disqualified for the simple fact that his son was a suitor, but he’d convinced the rest of the council that he could be impartial.
But there he was, giving a pep talk to Trevor before things got started.
The other suitors were a mixture of old and young, tall and short, thin and brawny. Eli was one of the tallest and also one of the leanest. She wasn’t sure if that would work in his favor today or not. His height would be an advantage in the pit, but would he be able to tussle with the bulkier men?
As she watched them stretch and prepare for the task at hand, rain began to fall and distorted her vision.
A few moans of displeasure came from the crowd, but no one dared give up their seat.
This was a once in a generation event. Another one wouldn’t come along until Grace’s firstborn daughter was old enough to wed.
She shivered at the thought. The idea of forcing her own child to go through this made bile rise in her throat.
Grace turned in her seat and found Amaya in the row behind her.
Catching her attention, she gestured toward Amaya’s bag.
Amaya chuckled but dug into her small purse until she found a silver flask.
She passed it to Grace, who took several swigs of the fiery whiskey to calm her nerves, coughing a little as it burned her throat.
Theo muttered out of the corner of his mouth, “Careful. If Mother sees you drinking at an official event, you’ll be grounded.”
Grace smirked. “Let her try.”