Chapter Thirty-Two
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Mira
Nikolas didn’t pull his punches, didn’t break a sweat, and didn’t show mercy. His opponent hit the ground and stayed down. Two Warriors hauled his unconscious body out of view.
I watched from the covered staging area where I had once waited with my mother, my locket now clasped tightly in my hand. Around me, the tension was almost palpable. Most of the candidates were putting on a brave face, but only a handful were truly confident. Odessa, unfortunately, was one of them. She’d already faced Rae – who hadn’t even lasted ten minutes.
But I didn’t care about Odessa or Rae. I only had eyes for Aric, who was fighting a muscular boy whose name I’d forgotten.
I’d wished him luck before his match, but I still felt guilty about the way we’d left things. We had the same goal, and yet somehow, it felt as though we were inexorably drawing apart.
At times, I had to look away, fearing the worst, but Aric was too fast to be caught, attacking efficiently but remaining out of his opponent’s grasp. When the other boy began to tire, Aric seized his chance, launching himself into a carefully coordinated attack. They grappled for about a minute before Aric swept his opponent’s legs out from underneath him. In a flash, he had his knee braced against the boy’s chest and his arms restrained. No matter how much the other boy thrashed, Aric held firm.
The emperor had no choice but to declare Aric the winner. His opponent was escorted from the arena, and even from a distance, I could see his disappointment.
‘It’s time,’ Scarlett said, striding over.
My stomach clenched as I wondered who I would be paired with. It was supposed to be determined according to skill level; the other Mask candidates had been paired with each other. But each of them had already faced the arena – which left me.
‘Do you know who I’ll be facing?’
‘No. It’s different for everyone, of course, but for you . . .’ Scarlett paused. ‘It’s bound to be harder.’
‘A nice change then,’ I said dryly. The princess didn’t respond to my sarcasm.
Aric entered the staging area and flashed me one of his crooked smiles. A smile that said our conversation from the night before was forgiven. ‘How are you feeling?’
Scarlett gave us some space, but Odessa glanced in our direction. She was probably too far away to eavesdrop, but I lowered my voice anyway.
‘Like I’m balancing on a knife’s edge,’ I said, ‘and if I fall, I die.’
Aric’s eyes were serious, but the smile didn’t leave his lips. He leant in and murmured, ‘Don’t fall.’
I barely had the chance to nod before the trumpet sounded. My turn.
I strode out of the shade into the bright afternoon sun. The stands were packed, the crowd waiting to see what I could do. Expecting to see me fail.
In the royal box was the emperor, his expression remote. Ivalene and the two princes were at his side, their faces unreadable. I noticed that Cassius wasn’t lounging on his throne this time; he was sitting up straight, like he was interested in the outcome of my match. He was probably eager to watch me die – execution was the punishment for stealing from a prince.
But I didn’t intend to die today.
‘For our final match,’ Emperor Kalias announced, ‘I have something special planned: a traditional Ravalian duel, fought to the point of yielding or death. I present to you our next candidates: Kasmira Volaris and Nikolas Atwood.’
A murmur went through the stands. Nikolas had already faced his opponent; it was unorthodox for him to fight again. But he was a crowd favourite, and he’d fought without weapons earlier. Now, the crowd would get to watch him compete like a true arena fighter.
My throat went dry as I accepted a sword and dagger from a nearby Warrior. I’d practised for a sparring match, not a Ravalian duel. But perhaps it could work in my favour; I was quick and slight, and at least I wouldn’t be trapped in a small circle with Nikolas. I would have room to move.
I glanced at Nikolas, who was swaggering towards me without a hint of concern. When my gaze locked with Aric’s, he gave me an encouraging smile. But it didn’t reach his eyes.
If even Aric didn’t believe I could beat Nikolas, what chance did I have?
‘I’ll let you concede now, if you want.’ Nikolas’s full lips upturned in a mocking smile. ‘I’d hate to mess up your pretty face.’
I forced myself to meet Nikolas’s gaze, thinking of the night he had followed me back to my tent. Of what he had tried to do – of what he had felt entitled to do, all because he was a noble and I was a nobody. Or so he had believed.
The old anger rose quickly to the surface, and I clung to it with everything I had.
‘I can’t say the same,’ I retorted. ‘I’d quite enjoy messing up your face.’
He looked surprised. Hadn’t expected me to fight back, had he? He should have known better.
Nikolas shook his head. ‘Always so arrogant. You’re going to wish you stayed on Aldara.’
I smiled, although it felt more like a snarl. I wasn’t going to make this easy for him. I had given up too much, come too far, to be defeated now. Nikolas was more experienced than I was, but he didn’t have as much to lose. He was only fighting for himself; I was fighting for my mother. For vengeance.
We faced the royal box side by side, waiting for the emperor’s signal. At his sharp nod, we started to circle.
There was no warning before Nikolas transferred his dagger to his left hand, his right fist barrelling towards my face. I was a second too late to avoid the blow, which sent me sprawling to the ground. But he didn’t move in for the kill. He was confident in his victory; he wanted to draw this out, to make it a show.
I climbed to my feet, ignoring my aching jaw. I can do this. I have to do this.
‘Scared, are you?’ Nikolas taunted as I backed away, circling from a distance.
‘Not even a little,’ I snapped back. ‘If you’re so sure you can beat me, why don’t you come closer?’
Nikolas responded to my challenge, closing in with his sword raised. I barely blocked the strike in time, panting through clenched teeth as my shoulder protested. He was much stronger than I was, and it was only a matter of time before I faltered.
He knew that, too. Nikolas was expecting me to fall back, to buckle against his onslaught. He wasn’t expecting me to kick out at his legs, landing a lucky blow to his shin – a blow that made him stumble.
Before he could recover, I shifted to the attack, stabbing with both blades and dancing out of reach. I needed to keep him distracted; as soon as I slowed, as soon as I went on the defensive, it would be all over.
But my strength was decreasing at an alarming rate.
Nikolas’s keen eyes noticed my tiredness. ‘You’re dead, Princess,’ he said, spitting the title like a joke. ‘Just like your mother.’
I lunged forwards, intending to run him through—
Steel screeched against steel as his blade parried mine, and while I was focused on his sword, his heel slammed into my stomach.
And then the pommel of his sword descended.
Pain erupted in the back of my head, and I crumpled instantly, tasting sand and blood as I hit the arena floor.
I was too stunned to move. To breathe .
Where was the girl from Aldara, who had been so determined to beat Nikolas in the arena? I needed her now. I needed her belief, her determination.
I needed her fire .
But when I reached for her, all I found were ashes.
Through half-closed eyelids, I saw Nikolas approaching. He was taking his time, basking in the crowd’s roaring approval. I needed to get up. Now .
My body didn’t respond. The temptation to close my eyes was almost overpowering, to let myself descend to a place where I would feel no pain. No emotion. Nothing at all.
But just as I shut my eyes, I remembered the locket.
The moment my desperate fingers brushed it, all the anger and conviction I’d forgotten flooded back. The emotion was fuel, waiting to be ignited. Waiting for me to reach out and use it.
Adrenaline burst through my veins, lending strength to my aching muscles. My eyes snapped open and I rolled, right as Nikolas’s blade slashed towards me, hitting the arena floor instead. The impact tore the sword from his hand, sending it clattering to the ground.
On my feet, I stared Nikolas down with hard challenge.
Nikolas paused, confused by the sudden change. The entire atmosphere of the battle had altered in the blink of an eye, and I knew the Mira facing Nikolas now wasn’t the same Mira who had walked out into the arena.
But Nikolas was still confident. He still thought he could win.
I waited, letting him come closer. It didn’t even occur to him to collect his sword; his brute strength was his advantage, which meant that the closer he was, the easier it would be to overpower me.
But while Nikolas had strength, I had speed .
He couldn’t match it. Couldn’t stop me as I sliced with my dagger, opening small, stinging wounds that penetrated his dark leather. He hadn’t wanted to make my death quick, so I wouldn’t give him the mercy of a quick defeat either.
I whirled and struck and darted away again, moving like Zandri had done – like my feet barely needed to touch the ground.
A dance. That was what this was – a beautiful, deadly dance.
It was Nikolas’s turn to panic. He wasn’t suited to this style of fighting: he needed his sword, needed the order and structure of the formal duels he was so practised in. But I wasn’t fighting like a typical Warrior.
I was fighting like a Mask.
By the time I broke away again, circling at a distance, Nikolas was dripping blood onto the ground and I was smiling.
Whatever was left of his composure disintegrated. He charged – desperate to get his hands on me, to squeeze the life from my lungs.
Exactly as I had anticipated.
The crowd erupted as I sprinted towards him – shouting, screaming, standing from their seats. It looked like we were about to collide: two bodies hitting in a clap of thunder and destruction.
At the last moment, I dropped to my knees and skidded across the floor, knocking Nikolas’s legs out from underneath him—
And sending him careening face first into the sand.
I was on him in one quick movement. And there was nothing Nikolas could do – absolutely nothing – as I slashed his right hamstring with my dagger.
An agonised scream burst from his lips – more animal than human. It did nothing to diminish my sense of satisfaction.
Hobbled and gushing blood onto the sand, Nikolas crawled away from me – towards his sword. I watched him struggle, wondering if this was what I had looked like when I fought Roran.
Pitiful. Broken .
The roar of the crowd swelled to a crescendo as I kicked Nikolas onto his back, pressing the tip of my sword into his exposed throat.
Then silence fell. I didn’t need to look up to know the spectators were watching with shock – the same shock that was reflected in Nikolas’s wide, pain-glazed eyes.
‘I’ll let you concede now, if you want,’ I said, taunting him with his earlier words.
Nikolas stared at me mutely, his face dark with hatred.
I pressed my sword more firmly into his neck, drawing a thin trickle of blood. Give me a reason, I thought. Just one.
‘I yield,’ he gritted out.
Emperor Kalias’s expression was cold as he announced me the winner. To my surprise, the shocked silence of the crowd gave way to something else: cheers.
It took me a second to make sense of the individual sounds, to realise what they were shouting.
My name.
And when Nikolas was carried away by two Warriors – when I strode from the arena, the bloodied dagger still in my hand – the other candidates parted for me, like I’d earned their respect.
Or their fear.