CHAPTER SEVEN #3
Caspen remained on the edge of the forest, winding himself slowly up a tree until he was high enough to see past Kronos and down to the town square where the villagers were gathering for the Showing.
Women in varying degrees of clothing were lying down on a circle of mats.
One of them was already naked. The women were not required to be nude, but the less clothing they wore, the deeper their devotion to the prince was considered to be.
The Showing would end at dawn, when the prince would arrive to gift his coat to his first choice.
It was a symbolic gesture as well as a physical one.
Each woman would be vying for his coat, but not everyone would remain through the night; the autumn air was brutally cold.
If any woman left the circle, she forfeited her chance with the prince.
Caspen observed Constance, his own student.
She was truly nothing special, but she was obedient, which should be enough to make her queen.
Caspen supposed it might be informative to see whether the prince picked her.
Down in the square, the villagers were partying.
Alcohol flowed, pipes were smoked, and bets were made on which woman would last until dawn.
A group of men were gathered around the one naked woman, who waved and giggled at them, pushing her breasts together tantalizingly.
They rewarded her with sips of mead. Caspen could sense her desperation from here.
He wondered whether the prince would choose her.
Her nudity did not guarantee victory—some men were more inclined to want what they could not have.
Eventually the men crossed to the other side of the circle to give their attentions to a different woman with a cloud of thick, curly hair.
She wore a simple linen dress and was clearly shivering.
However, this one they did not seem to like.
They jeered at her, and Caspen watched as one of the men actually spit on her mat.
The woman flinched but didn’t leave the circle.
Hours passed as the remaining women curled in upon themselves, shivering as the night deepened.
Kronos hardly moved; he stared with total concentration, never shifting his gaze.
Caspen could not tell who he was looking at, but it was clear he could not look away.
One woman left, then another, leaving only nine in the circle.
The villagers only became rowdier as the hours went by.
Caspen knew that the competition was an aphrodisiac for them, a way to feel as if they had a say in who ruled.
It was a uniting act for the villagers, even if it was a false one.
The prince was ultimately the only one who was truly in control.
It did not matter who the villagers bet on; it did not matter who they thought deserved to be queen.
It was not dissimilar to the way the basilisks functioned: At the end of the Ranking, there would be a closing ceremony at which Kora would choose whether a new king would ascend or the current king would remain.
The vials only determined the order in which the top twelve basilisks would rank before she made her choice.
There was no guarantee of succession; Kora had neglected to pass the power on for decades now.
Finally, the sky began to lighten. A hush fell over the villagers as a carriage pulled up to the square and the prince emerged.
His icy blond hair was slicked back, displaying his angular face.
Caspen hated him just the same as he had hated his father before him.
The royals were a disgusting breed, each more bloodthirsty and greedy than the last.
The prince’s gaze fell to the naked woman, who sat up eagerly.
His face twisted in disgust as he stepped forward, heading instead for the far side of the circle, away from Constance.
Caspen stifled a wave of annoyance. If the prince was not already interested in Constance, he would have to work harder to ensure he became so.
It was difficult to reverse the course of a heart.
But Caspen had done it before, and he would do it again.
The prince stopped in front of the woman who had been harassed by the group of men.
The prince removed his coat and knelt, holding it out.
The woman hesitated at first, but then she nodded, and Maximus leaned forward, draping the coat around her shoulders.
How curious. The prince’s first pick was not the villagers’.
There would be tension because of his choice; the villagers would not be pleased if they felt their voices were not heard.
The moment the prince made contact with the woman, Kronos stiffened.
His reaction was enough to tell Caspen everything he needed to know.
The woman was clearly Kronos’s student, and he clearly cared about her.
The Seneca was looking at the woman as if she were the only person on earth, his expression a mix of desire and despair. Caspen knew that look well.
It was the same way his brother looked at Harmony—the way his mother used to look at his father.
Kronos was in love with his student.
And his student was the prince’s first choice.