Chapter 9
Sebastian: The First Task
The first thing Sebastian noticed when Lucy emerged from the cottage the following morning were the ugly purple bruises encircling her neck. Seeing them made his blood run cold. “When did that happen?” he demanded.
Lucy scowled at him. “How about, ‘Good morning, Lucy. Did you sleep well?’”
Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Good morning. Now, when did you get those bruises?”
“It doesn’t matter. We should be going. The emperor will announce the first task at nine and we still have to get to the city,” Lucy said, clambering up into the cart.
“It doesn’t ma—” Sebastian sputtered, climbing up next to her. “Lucy, it looks like someone tried to strangle you. You’re telling me that doesn’t matter?”
“Sebastian, please.” Her eyes shone as she turned to him. “Just drop it. It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” Sebastian muttered. “But I’ll let it go for the moment. But we are going to talk about this later.”
“After we stop this assassination attempt,” Lucy said. “And maybe not even then.”
“No. We are going to talk about it. You’re not escaping me that easily, Lucy Savage.” Sebastian offered her a wry smile that she didn’t return. He flicked the reins, and they jolted into motion. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Do you, er, want me to take care of it?”
Lucy’s hand froze halfway between twisting through her curls. “What?”
“The bruises. I’m not as good as Oliver is at healing magic, but I can take care of mild bruises.” He held out the hand not holding the reins. “May I?”
Lucy hesitated a second before nodding. Careful not to hurt her, he pressed his fingertips against the wounded skin. She gasped, more out of shock than anything else.
Sebastian offered her another smile as he studied the bruises.
He didn’t need to, not for the spell. But if she wouldn’t tell him who’d given them to her, he’d have to figure it out himself.
The hand was large. Smaller than his, but bigger than Oliver’s.
Almost definitely a man. Whoever had given them, they had sharp fingernails.
They’d cut into the skin in a couple of places. But—
“Sebastian?” Lucy’s voice cut through his musings. “I thought you were going to—”
“Oh. Oh, right,” Sebastian said, before muttering the correct spell. Immediately, the bruises faded into nothingness. With regret, he pulled his fingers away. “There you go. Good as new.”
“Thank you,” Lucy said, looking up at him through lowered eyelashes.
Not for the first time, Sebastian was struck by how small she was.
She barely came up to his chest when they were standing, and now, as she hunched in on herself, trying to make herself smaller, she looked almost fragile.
Not like him. He was huge and bulky from hours of training.
Even if he tried to make himself small, he’d probably fail miserably.
“Sebastian?” Lucy was studying him as frankly as he was studying her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Sebastian spat the word out as if it had burned him. A change of subject. Now. “How’s your gran doing?”
“Er, fine,” Lucy said, still not looking at him. “Dr. Fenrir was with her when we got here.”
“I know. We chatted for a bit before he headed into the city,” Sebastian said. “He said he was optimistic.”
“He told me the same thing. I suppose that means it must be true,” Lucy mumbled.
“Either that or he’s a much better liar than he is a doctor,” Sebastian joked. He reached for her hand and, surprisingly, she let him take it. “It’ll be fine. I’m positive.”
She gave him a half smile. “Thanks,” she whispered before clearing her throat and withdrawing her hand. “Er, do you know who the designers we’re supposed to meet are?”
Sebastian nodded, turning back to the road. “I asked Lady Quinn before we left. She said we’d be working with Damian and Donatella Lee. They’re a brother-sister design team who have gotten some acclaim in the capital city.”
“Are you familiar with their work?” Lucy asked.
“Unfortunately.” Sebastian made a face, remembering the slipshod stitching and the ill-fitting design. “I do not know how they got into the competition. Perhaps because they were the only team Moyar could come up with. Most people go to Coleur or Zaffyre if they want well-made clothes.”
“Only because they don’t know to come to you,” Lucy said, giving him the first genuine smile he’d seen from her all morning.
Sebastian bowed his head, grateful for her loyalty. “You’re too kind. But Moyar is definitely the underdog in this competition. And if we want to stay in this competition, we’re going to have to knuckle down and get to work.”
“And keep an eye out for anyone with murderous intent,” Lucy reminded him. “But I’m not worried about the design aspect. I know what you can do.”
“Ah, but I’m not the designer,” Sebastian pointed out.
“But you’re part of the team. And you’ve never been able to put up with shoddy work.
If we’re going to present something to the emperor, it’s got to be up to your standards.
” Lucy’s tone brooked no argument. “I may not like how you conduct yourself when you’re courting a lady, but I would never dare to criticize your standards when you’re working on a design. ”
Sebastian frowned. “How I conduct myself when I’m—”
A guard in the uniform of an Umberian guard interrupted him, shouting a single word. He glared up at Sebastian, who obediently pulled up on the reins. The man continued to roar at him in a language he didn’t understand.
Sebastian turned to Lucy. “What’s he saying?”
“He wants us to state our business,” Lucy said in an undertone.
“Well, tell him we’re here for the emperor’s design competition,” Sebastian said.
Lucy nodded and spoke to the guard in the same language. The guard shouted something and motioned for them to keep moving.
Lucy turned to him. “He says we can go through.”
Sebastian bent his head in acknowledgement to the guard before urging the horse onward. Inside, however, his concern bubbled up. If this is how they’re managing security for this event, we may be in more trouble than I thought.
Lucy’s mind was running along the same lines. “That was far too easy.”
Sebastian grunted as they came to a stop in front of the palace gates. A stern-looking woman with silver hair rushed out of the castle entrance, her dark eyes wide and frazzled. “Are you the team from Moyar?” she asked in heavily accented Moyaran.
Lucy and Sebastian shared looks. “Er, yes,” Sebastian said. “But—”
“Well, hurry up. You were supposed to be here hours ago. The emperor is about to announce the first task of the competition.”
“Is the rest of our team here?” Sebastian asked.
“The rest of—no, you are the only people from Moyar that have arrived thus far,” the woman said. She pressed her hand to her head. “Please tell me you can complete without your companions.”
Sebastian opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Lucy stepped forward. “We’re absolutely ready to compete. Should we unload our supplies before we go to the meeting?”
“No, no, I’ll have someone bring your things to your workspace. Now, hurry. You’re going to miss the announcement!” the woman said, gesturing for them to follow her.
Lucy moved to follow her, but Sebastian grabbed her wrist, stopping her. “What are you doing?” Sebastian hissed. “We can’t—”
“If we don’t go and get the task, then we have no reason to be here, and they’re going to kick us out,” Lucy said, hurrying up the steps. “We’ll be finished before we can even start. If and when the Lees get here, they can take the lead, but until then, we’ve got to keep up appearances.”
Sebastian saw the logic in her words and rushed to join her. At the same time, a thrill of excitement rushed through him. He could pretend, at least for a moment, to take part in the competition on his own.
They traveled down a dizzying maze of corridors until they came into a huge, airy room.
In the center of the room, three groups of people stood in a row.
A notable gap stood between two of the groups.
At the far end, in a throne of gold and red, there sat a tall, imposing man with close-cropped black hair and dark, critical eyes.
He scowled as they entered and said something in Umberian.
“He wants us to stop dawdling and stand on our marks,” Lucy translated in an undertone.
Sebastian nodded, and they hurried toward the empty space.
As they moved, he studied the other competitors.
He was familiar with most of their work.
Lady Henrietta Bauer and Lord Finn Koch from Feldgrau, surrounded by half a dozen of their lackeys.
He’d seen a few of their designs the last time he’d accompanied Oliver and his uncle to Feldgrau’s capital; they were excellent tailors but were unwilling to take risks.
His eyes wandered to the team from Umber, Aiako Tanaka, and a woman Sebastian didn’t know.
They had only brought one assistant, a short man who Sebastian recognized but couldn’t remember his name.
Aiako tended to favor bold, daring designs, but most of her clothes were for women, not men, same as him.
She’d be a bit out of her comfort zone, which might work in his favor, if he weren’t fighting with the same constriction.
Of course, he didn’t know what her partner could do. They were a pair to watch.
The last team was from Zaffyre, but Sebastian didn’t know the two men.
One was tall and fat, while the other was short and skinny.
They had brought no assistants so that put their team at a slight disadvantage.
The clothes they wore were cheap and gaudy, so he would assume that their designs would be, too.
Sebastian smirked. Cheap and gaudy would be easy to beat.
All of the other competitors gave him and Lucy frowns of disapproval as they approached, but Sebastian shrugged it off. They weren’t really here to compete, so it didn’t matter if they looked bad.
Emperor Zoun cleared his throat and began to speak.
As he did, Lucy translated his words under her breath.
Across the room, each team, except for the one from Umber, had someone doing the same thing.
“He says now that we’re all here, we can get started.
As we all know, we’re here to help him create the perfect outfit for each of his kingdom’s anniversary celebrations. ”
“Well, we knew that. What else?” Sebastian wondered.
Lucy frowned at his impatience. “He says that the judge’s panel would be comprised of him and two others. He warns that they have exceedingly high standards, so we will have to do our best work.
“There will be three challenges, and after each of the first two challenges, one team will have to leave. The emperor will wear the winning outfit for each challenge at the corresponding celebratory event to showcase the artist’s designs.
The winner of the final challenge receive a comission for all the emperor’s outfits over the next year, as well as a 75,000 gold pieces.
” She frowned. “That’s not a small prize. ”
Sebastian nodded. “And does he say what each of the celebrations will be?”
Lucy cocked her head, listening. “The first one is a street festival and the second will be a parade, which he is to lead. The final one is a ball.” She shook her head. “Of course, it would be a ball.”
Sebastian frowned. Those were three very public events. Perfect opportunities for someone to attack the emperor. He’d have to find some way to put defensive spells in whatever ensemble won each contest. That would add an additional layer of difficulty to the challenges.
The emperor clapped his hands and made shooing motions.
Lucy bit back a little laugh. “He says we have until after lunch to settle in to our workstations and get set up. Then, we’ll have eight hours to design and create the ensemble for the first event.
At 9:00 on the dot, we’ll have to stop work and leave the work area, at which time judging will take place.
He’ll tell us the results in the morning. ”
Sebastian nodded, his brow furrowed. Eight hours was an impossibly short amount of time. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to make the best of it.”
Lucy grinned. “Time to put your design skills to the test.”