Chapter Thirty-One
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Mira
I closed my eyes, centring myself. Then I flicked my wrist and let the knife fly.
It smacked into the bullseye, though I’d envisioned a very different target. I had imagined a knife slicing through the emperor’s throat, downing him instantly. I had imagined my blade cutting into Nikolas Atwood, into the crown prince.
‘Good,’ Scarlett said with approval. ‘My mother will be pleased with your progress.’
But when I turned to nod at her, I noticed the watchful eyes of the other candidates. My competition.
Even Nikolas was sizing me up, like he was itching to face me in the arena. Worse than Nikolas was Odessa, whose amber eyes were narrowed into slits. She hadn’t been pleased to discover I’d stolen her fiancé’s crown during the first Trial.
‘Let’s go, Mira,’ Scarlett instructed.
I ignored her. Without looking at the target, I hurled my last three knives – lethally fast and unerringly accurate.
A few weeks ago my competitors would have smiled. There were no smiles now.
‘Take some time for yourself,’ Scarlett said, not commenting on my theatrics. ‘You’ll want to be at your best tomorrow.’ Her icy hand brushed my arm, and I felt a strange kinship that I couldn’t explain.
The princess didn’t seem to notice my reaction. She was distracted by Aric’s approach, an uncharacteristic lightness entering her expression. Even her uniquely pale skin seemed to warm, a hint of colour softening her features.
‘Princess,’ Aric said, bowing his head. Despite the formality of the gesture, he didn’t shift his gaze from Scarlett’s.
‘Protocol is entirely wasted on you,’ she commented, but she was smiling.
Aric returned her smile with a little too much familiarity. ‘I’m sure there will be plenty of time to teach me after the Trials.’
His playful tone set me on edge, and when Scarlett said something flirtatious in return, I strode out of the training courtyard. Aric hurried after me, catching my arm to slow me down.
‘I wasn’t aware that you knew each other,’ I said, sharper than I’d intended.
Aric seemed surprised by my attitude. ‘Scarlett came to check on me after the Choosing. She wanted to make sure that being a member of her personal guard was something I wanted. And . . .’ He hesitated.
I struggled to keep my voice level. ‘ And . . . ?’
‘Well, she knew Kain.’ Aric looked uncomfortable, like this wasn’t a discussion he wanted to be having.
‘This has something to do with your plan for revenge, doesn’t it? You think Scarlett can confirm Roran’s involvement.’
When Aric avoided my eyes, I knew I was right. ‘Come on,’ he said, taking my hand. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
I threaded my fingers through his, but I was still thinking of the way he’d smiled at Scarlett – as though she wasn’t a royal, wasn’t the patron of the Order of Masks, but just a girl. A very beautiful girl.
I forced those thoughts aside as we walked through the barracks, passing the armoury, mess hall and open living quarters with their lines of neat bunks. A guard nodded at us as we cleared the Order of Warriors residence and entered the peaceful gardens beyond.
Aric led me through the palace gates and down the cobbled Imperial Road that passed through the Higher Districts. The land sloped towards the docks, and I felt relieved when we turned away from the main harbour with the Imperial Fleet. Those ships would have been impressive, but in my current mindset, I wasn’t interested in yet another demonstration of Ravalian power.
We paused on a small hill, overlooking the modest harbour below. It was a hive of activity: merchants loaded and unloaded their wares, while colourful boats bobbed merrily at the wharves. Children swam around them, shouts and laughter carrying on the breeze. I could almost pretend that nothing had changed, and we were still on Aldara, dreaming of entering the Trials and making a difference.
‘Do you ever wish you could go back?’ I asked, thinking of Lillian’s bright smile and the life I’d left behind.
Aric lay back beside me, looking up at the darkening sky. ‘I can’t imagine I would have made a different decision, so it probably doesn’t matter. It was always inevitable I would end up here.’
My fingers stretched over the grass, strands sweeping across my skin. Aric caught my hand in his, tracing my palm and lingering on my new callouses. He had once called my hands delicate, soft. They were still delicate, but they were no longer soft.
‘It’s not your fault, you know,’ he murmured. ‘What happened to you. To your mother.’
I thought of everything I had kept from her. My naive belief that I could protect us both.
Then I thought of Zandri’s words, and the hard truth in them. The moment you announced your candidacy for the Trials, you were both living on borrowed time. I merely sped up the inevitable.
‘I hate them,’ I said. ‘I hate all of them.’
‘I know,’ Aric replied, his grip tightening. ‘I know, Mira.’
‘I didn’t understand what you meant, that night on Aldara.’ My voice was low, so low that Aric leant in closer. ‘But I do now.’
I’d told Aric that he was destroying his life, but if he was able to avenge Kain – wasn’t that worth it? Vengeance couldn’t bring back the dead, but maybe it could help them rest easier in their graves.
Aric was silent for a long moment. Then he said, ‘Let me get revenge for us both.’ His warm eyes met mine, filled with sincerity. ‘Say the word, and I’ll help you run. The Kalurians would shelter you, and perhaps you could do some good there. Help to heal the wounds Emperor Kalias inflicted on your home.’
‘If I travelled to Kalure, I’d only bring war with me. Now that he knows who I am, Emperor Kalias will never stop hunting me.’
‘But you can’t stay.’ Aric leant in. ‘Surely you can see that. Even if you make it through the Trials, you’ll always have a target on your back. Your only chance at a future is to disappear.’
I stared into his face, which was suddenly far too close. Like this, it was too easy to get caught up in his words, in the possibility of something else. Something more.
Would you leave with me? I almost asked, but I already knew the answer. If it came down to a choice between being with me and avenging Kain, I’d lose. He’d made that perfectly clear.
‘My mother tried to run. Look where that got her.’ I pulled my hand from Aric’s.
‘Mira—’
‘No.’ My voice was soft, but my words were sharp and definitive. ‘No, my choice is already made. It was made the moment they killed her.’
I didn’t know if I would survive the Trials, but I couldn’t turn back now. Not even if I wanted to. As for Kalure – I would only be a burden there, a hunted half-Ravalian queen who had no idea how to rule a country. But if I killed Emperor Kalias, I would have done something to truly help them. And if I died in the process . . . well, I’d be a better queen to them dead than alive.
Aric was watching me sadly. ‘I’ve changed my mind,’ he said. ‘I do wish I could go back.’
I almost told him that I wished the same. That I wished it with all of my blackened, broken heart. And maybe the Mira from Aldara would have cracked then, would have changed her mind and begged Aric to run with her – to choose love over hatred and death. But that Mira was dead. She’d died, the moment her mother’s heart had stopped beating.
So instead, I stood and faced Aric with a spine like iron. I looked down at him and I wasn’t sure who he saw in that moment, but whoever it was, I doubted it was anyone he recognised.
‘I don’t,’ I told him, and walked away.
From my position on the wharf, I stared over the harbour. Rain dripped onto my shoulders, lightning splitting the night sky. In comparison, the black water was eerie in its stillness.
I didn’t want to be here, but my dream was impossible to ignore. As I’d tossed and turned in my sleep, worried about the second Trial, I had seen my mother. The scene was one I had recognised instantly; it was the same vision I’d had after discovering the blood ruby on Aldara.
Celeste was dancing in a ballroom, with a diadem in her hair and a dress like rippling ice. But it wasn’t just my mother I noticed: it was the man at her side, tall and handsome, with a fighter’s athletic build and an easy smile. The resemblance between us was uncanny, and I knew I was looking at my father.
As I drank him in with desperate, reverent eyes, my mother turned. She smiled, her hand dropping to the necklace she wore. The locket with the wreathed crown.
‘Return to the docks and enter the water,’ she told me. Her voice was younger than I remembered, yet achingly familiar. ‘The locket will find you.’
I stepped towards her, but Celeste was no longer looking at me. She had turned towards the entrance to the ballroom, where I could hear the distant sound of banging. The sound filled me with dread.
Every dream of my mother always ended the same way: with her death.
I watched, breathless and frozen, as my father handed Celeste a blazing lantern.
‘Please,’ I begged her. ‘Please don’t go. I can’t do this alone.’
My mother held the lantern aloft, her face cast in the flickering light of the flames.
‘You won’t be alone,’ she promised—
And let it fall.
Thunder boomed, jolting me back to reality. With a start, I realised that I was barefoot, balancing halfway down a rusted ladder. Water lapped at the rungs, and I couldn’t see beyond its dark surface.
Swallowing, I descended the last of the steps. Before I lost my nerve, I unclenched my grip from the slimy rail.
The cold made me gasp, my heart racing as I broke the surface.
Return to the docks and enter the water. The locket will find you. What kind of instruction was that?
But I’d always trusted my mother, and I needed to trust her now. She wouldn’t have told me to come here if it wasn’t important – wouldn’t have wasted those precious last moments together in the arena.
Teeth chattering, I kicked my legs even harder, trying to warm up. If I waited long enough, perhaps something miraculous would happen. The locket was magic, after all: maybe it would simply appear. Or maybe . . .
I closed my eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. Don’t look with your eyes.
I was expecting a faint, almost imperceptible pull. The kind I had felt when aiming a weapon at a target or picking a correct card. Instead, I was pulled underwater: sucked further and further down by a force beyond my control.
My eyes flashed open, but they might as well have remained shut. Everything was black and freezing. Something brushed past my face – a tendril of kelp, probably – but my chest tightened with panic, imagining a circling shark.
How far was it to the bottom? I had no idea how deep this water was, and I was already desperate for air.
I tried to struggle against the pull, but it was useless. I was caught in a freefall, a relentless current dragging me into its malevolent depths.
What if I die down here?
Just as I had the thought, my feet hit the sandy bottom. The force was enough to make my whole body shudder.
Though it shouldn’t have been possible, a flicker of light pierced the inky blackness. The faintest gleam of gold.
I reached down into the sand, my fingers brushing something smooth and round.
Warmth and power surged into me. And as my hand enclosed around the locket, my arm was drawn upwards—
My entire body with it.
It happened quickly. So quickly that the sensation was nothing more than a rush of water until my fist broke the surface and air – beautiful, sweet, life-saving air – flooded into my lungs.
In a daze, I stared down at the locket nestled in my palm. It was glowing a muted red now, but still pulsing with warmth and familiarity. With welcome.
The feeling was almost too tender, too wondrous to be real, and tears pooled in my eyes. Somehow, this locket – my father’s locket – contained a piece of my mother. Her essence, her being – whatever it was, it felt like I was holding my mother’s beating heart in my hand.
And as I swam towards the ladder, surety enveloped me. No matter what happened, I wouldn’t be alone. Even after death, my parents would be with me.
They would be with me always.