Chapter Four
CHAPTER FOUR
Mira
‘Easy,’ Aric cautioned as I slashed towards his ribs, our practice swords grating together. ‘We’re not in the Trials yet.’
I didn’t answer. I’d barely spoken since meeting Aric at our training spot – a secluded mountain meadow above the circus, where there was little danger of being observed. Not that secrecy would matter much longer.
Soon enough, all my plans would be out in the open. It should have been a relief, not having to hide my intentions – but a small, uncertain part of me wondered whether Nikolas was right. What chance did I really have against people like him? Nobles who had been training as Warriors most of their lives?
Shoving the thought aside, I twisted to the left and lunged at Aric – who barely blocked the strike in time. He was panting as we locked swords once more, and there was razor-sharp concentration in his face.
I pulled away, circling. Aric mirrored the action, and I knew we were both sizing each other up, waiting for an opening.
Patience had never been my strong suit. I charged, hoping to take Aric by surprise. But he parried my blows with practised ease. When my arms were starting to tire, he went on the offensive. His eyes held an eager glimmer, one that was instantly recognisable.
He was going in for the kill.
I backed away, trying to avoid the attack. His sword curved through the air, but while I was distracted by his blade, Aric knocked me off-balance—
Into the stream.
It wasn’t deep, but it was cool. I surfaced, spluttering as I wrung out my wet hair.
Aric waded in after me, infuriatingly smug. My stomach gave a traitorous flutter as I noticed the way his wet linen shirt clung to him, emphasising his muscular chest and broad shoulders. He had filled out even more since my last circus tour, and the result was entirely too distracting.
His familiar brown eyes, the brown of freshly tilled soil, held mine intimately. But there was nothing intimate about the smirk in his voice.
‘You’re still too impulsive,’ he said, raking a hand through his dishevelled hair. ‘I can predict your every move before you make it.’
‘If I’m so easy to beat, why are you sweating so much?’
Aric flashed me a smile I could only describe as wolfish. ‘Touché.’
Laughing a little, I splashed some water in his direction. I expected him to return the favour, but Aric looked at me with an intensity that made me shiver, raising goosebumps on my bare arms.
I stared up at him in the fading light, my heart racing at his closeness. The olive trees cast spiky shadows, partially obscuring Aric’s expression – but for a brief, delirious second, I thought he might kiss me.
Instead, he offered me his arm. ‘Come on,’ he said, shattering the moment. ‘You must be freezing.’
I tried not to let my disappointment show as we crossed the stream together. Aric had been the first friend I made in Aldara, an unlikely friendship formed when the governor’s son accosted me on my way back to my tent. I’d never told anyone how Nikolas put his hands on me, or how helpless the strength of his touch made me feel. But Aric saw it all – including how it ended, with me kneeing Nikolas in the groin.
Nikolas had never forgiven me for humiliating him, or Aric for witnessing his humiliation, but afterwards Aric had invited me to practise swordsmanship. We’d been sparring partners ever since.
Maybe it was foolish for me to want more. I knew Aric received plenty of offers, from girls prettier and more experienced than I was. But aside from the occasional fling, he’d never shown much interest in them. I’d heard them grumble about how he spent all his time training. Training – with me .
And lately, I could have sworn he felt the same attraction I did. The signs were subtle but unmistakable: the heated stares, the way his touches would linger, how he found any excuse to be close to me. Add to that the fact that we saw each other every day, sharing our hopes and dreams, planning a life in the Ravalian Court . . . what else was I supposed to think?
I flopped back on the slope with a soft sigh. Aric lowered himself onto the grass far more gracefully, keeping his sword within easy reach.
The town of Aldara stretched out below us, fringed with open fields, rich grazing land and orchards brimming with colourful fruits. As the sky darkened, my attention was drawn to the largest field, dotted with conical circus tents and illuminated by flashes of fire. Distant strains of music reached my ears, but in the stillness of dusk, all that light and noise felt very far away. Leaning back, I thought how peaceful it was.
‘A blacksmith came into town today,’ Aric said, breaking the silence. ‘My mother offered him coin to take me on as an apprentice. She thinks it’s my best chance at a safe future.’
A safe future, perhaps, but not the one we’d always dreamt of.
No risk, no reward. That was the unofficial motto of the islanders who entered the Trials. And they weren’t alone.
The promise of a glittering future was the reason parents across the empire took their children to fortune-tellers, hoping they had potential to be selected by the Order of Artisans. It was why so many young boys – and sometimes girls – trained from sunup to sundown, strengthening their bodies to catch the attention of the Order of Warriors. Only the Order of Masks stood apart – mysterious and out of reach, to all except an invited few.
I shook my head at Aric, angry with him for making me question a decision we’d made long ago. While competition was fierce and sometimes deadly, those who made it into an Order were elevated beyond ordinary citizens, afforded status, wealth, and protection – benefits that extended to their immediate family as well. Benefits that would extend to my mother.
‘I thought you wanted to be a Warrior. It’s all you’ve ever talked about.’
Aric didn’t quite meet my eyes. ‘I did. I do .’ He paused. ‘It’s just . . . after Kain—’ He broke off, and I felt like a monster for pushing him. In a quieter tone, he said, ‘I can’t blame my mother for being afraid. I don’t want her to lose another son.’
I studied Aric’s profile, thinking that he looked determined and strong – the kind of person the Order of Warriors were sure to select in the Trials.
Then again, Kain had looked equally capable.
I remembered how proud his mother had been, the day Kain was taken to Ravalia. Eliana had tearily hugged him goodbye, but I didn’t think it had really occurred to her that her son might die. The irony was terrible; they’d celebrated his success in the Trials, only to mourn his death three months later. He hadn’t lasted past his first battle campaign.
Aric was so like his brother that it was disconcerting; they had inherited their father’s strong build, dark hair and golden-brown skin. The similarities were striking enough that I sometimes caught Eliana looking away from Aric, as if he was a walking reminder of the people she’d lost.
I’d never raised it, and Aric hadn’t spoken about his brother since the death letter arrived, but I’d seen the toll it had taken. It had been weeks before he picked up the wooden sword again, and when he went through the exercises his brother had shown him, he no longer treated them like a game.
‘So are you going to take it? The apprenticeship, I mean?’
Aric didn’t answer at first. Finally, he said, ‘Last year, I spoke with a soldier who fought in the Western Lands. He told me that Kain and several other Warriors were sacrificed by the crown prince, used as bait to draw out the enemy.’
It was such a ludicrous claim that it might have been comical. Might have been, if Aric’s expression wasn’t deadly serious.
‘And where did you speak with this soldier?’ I demanded. ‘In the tavern, after a few drinks?’
His silence was enough of an answer.
‘You know full well Warriors aren’t ordinary foot soldiers,’ I said. ‘There’s no way Kain would have been sacrificed in battle. As the death letter explained—’
‘The death letter explained nothing .’ Aric’s voice was rough. ‘I’m not going to rely on a piece of parchment to tell me what happened to my brother. I’m going to find out for myself – and if the prince was responsible, his title won’t protect him from me.’
Terror constricted my chest. Even questioning the actions of the crown prince was a death sentence, and what Aric was talking about . . . what his hard tone implied . . .
‘He’d kill you,’ I breathed. ‘Aric, he’d kill you.’
‘Maybe.’ The smile that upturned his lips held no emotion. No fear. ‘But maybe I’d take him with me.’
I drew back from the fierceness of his voice. All this time, I’d pictured a successful, privileged life in the Order of Warriors. I’d imagined us travelling the continent and safeguarding the empire together. I’d imagined a future .
And now he was going to destroy that future. All based on a rumour.
‘Then why go at all?’ It sounded like I was pleading with him, and the irony wasn’t lost on me. All I’d ever wanted was for us to face the Trials together, as a team. Now, I wished for the opposite. ‘You have an alternative. Lots of people want an apprenticeship – do you know what most young men would give for this chance?’
‘A good number of things, I would imagine,’ he said. ‘One of them can have the position. It doesn’t mean anything to me.’
I stood abruptly, my entire body trembling – and though the night air was cool, I knew it wasn’t from the cold. I didn’t feel cold at all; I felt hot, burning with the knowledge that Aric would rather die than be with me. As though everything we had shared, all our plans and hopes, meant nothing.
As though I meant nothing.
‘I’m leaving,’ I said harshly.
Aric rose to his feet. ‘What do you want from me, Mira?’
In that moment, if I’d had a sword in my hand, I could have won. I could have delivered a blow so hard that it knocked him over.
‘I want you to care about your own life,’ I said, my voice all venom. ‘I want you to consider the people who love you, and how they would feel if you died. I want you to make decisions not just for yourself.’
When Aric spoke, his voice was soft but firm. ‘It’s my life.’
‘It might be your life,’ I retorted, ‘but I won’t be a part of it. Not if you’re going to destroy yourself.’