Chapter Thirty-Six
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Mira
‘It is my pleasure to announce that the Trials will conclude tonight.’ The emperor’s voice was low but powerful, carrying effortlessly over the gardens. ‘After the completion of one last task, I will invite the most talented of our sons and daughters into our three Orders.’
The applause from the assembled courtiers and candidates was enthusiastic and polite. Unlike the lavish celebration the night before, today’s gathering was an intimate affair, but no less intimidating. I shaded my eyes as I gazed up at the imperial pavilion, its crimson Ravalian flags flapping in the afternoon breeze.
‘Since the Artisan candidates didn’t compete in the second Trial,’ the emperor continued, ‘they will face their private testing today. Each will be invited to meet with me individually and share a prediction or insight about myself or the court. If I deem their response acceptable, they will progress to the final trial.’
Aric tensed at my side, and I wondered if he was thinking of Sabine. We’d spent plenty of time together since the first Trial, even though I wouldn’t have blamed her for keeping her distance. But Sabine hadn’t seemed to mind publicly aligning herself with us, cheering Aric and I on from the sidelines and feeding us snippets of information about the other candidates.
As my gaze drifted over Emperor Kalias’s advisers – instantly recognisable in their stately robes – I caught a glimpse of brunette curls from inside the imperial pavilion. Sabine’s closeness to the royal family surprised me – until I saw the person she was standing next to.
As if Severin felt my gaze on him, he turned, his mismatched eyes meeting mine.
I quickly looked away.
‘Some of you,’ Emperor Kalias was saying, ‘are already known to me, and have proved your loyalty through decades of family service.’ Ahead of me, I saw Brutus and a few other Warrior candidates exchange smirks. ‘But for the rest of the candidates, this final trial is my opportunity to ask questions of you. Those who prove their loyalty will be welcomed into the Ravalian Court.’
With that, the emperor returned to his seat, and the festivities began anew. A group of musicians began preparing their instruments while a young man strummed at his lyre, the soft music barely audible over the sound of laughter and clinking glasses.
‘Mira,’ Aric said, touching my arm. ‘You should try some.’
I glanced over to see a servant carrying a platter of farmed oysters, octopus and smoked fish cakes from the royal kitchens. Aric’s enthusiasm suddenly made sense; this was the kind of food that was common in the Elusive Isles. But thoughts of the final Trial made eating impossible.
‘It’ll be fine, Mira,’ Aric murmured, taking hold of my arm. I shot him a quizzical look as he led me across the manicured lawn, but he only smiled. ‘Care to dance?’
And indeed, the musicians had struck up a lively tune – too cheerful for the cloud of worry pressing in on me.
‘I’m not sure this is the right time—’
‘It’s exactly the right time.’ Aric spun me and I went with it, twirling back into his arms a little too forcefully. He grunted and I laughed.
Just like that, the tension was broken.
‘You’re right,’ I agreed, savouring the music and the moment. ‘This is exactly the right time.’
Various lords and ladies joined us, all infinitely more graceful than we were. But the formal dances were reserved for the inside of the palace, and out here, no one seemed to care about two Trial candidates enjoying what might be their last hours together.
Aric’s arm tightened around my waist. ‘Whatever happens, Mira—’ ‘No.’ I looked determinedly up at him.
‘No goodbyes. We’re going to survive the third Trial, and we’re going to become Order members. Both of us.’
As the song drew to a close, I turned the emperor’s words over in my mind, searching for anything sinister. I couldn’t find anything: it really did seem as simple as he made it sound. Stand in front of the emperor and answer a few questions . . . I could do that. All I needed to do was tell him what he wanted to hear.
From the pavilion, Cassius’s dark blue eyes locked with mine. Though his expression was unreadable, I had the sense the prince knew exactly what I was thinking. The barest hint of a smile upturned his lips as he shook his head.
And I knew that I was wrong. Despite what it might appear, this Trial wasn’t simple or harmless at all.
I retreated to my chambers soon afterwards, tense and taut as a wire. Aric had asked me to stay, but I suspected he intended to use the opportunity to cosy up to Scarlett, and it would be easier for him to do that without me.
I brightened when a knock sounded at my door, thinking that Aric had changed his mind.
But it wasn’t Aric who slipped inside.
Sabine was already dressed for the final Trial, in a frothy peach dress that made her seem deceptively young and innocent.
I glanced down at my strapless gown. It was black, matching the glittering dark jewels dripping from my ears, and it was the closest thing to my fighting leathers that I had been able to find. I couldn’t have looked any more Sabine’s opposite if I’d tried.
‘Expecting someone else?’ Sabine asked, with a knowing quirk of her lips.
‘Why would you say that?’
‘You looked disappointed to see me,’ she said, without any trace of offense. ‘And you left Aric behind at the celebrations. Did you two have an argument?’
‘No!’ I said, with a little too much vehemence. I’d forgotten how nosy Sabine could be.
And candid.
‘I see,’ Sabine said, amusement thick in her voice. ‘Well, it’s better like this anyway. I was hoping to catch you alone.’
‘I suppose you’re here to congratulate me?’ I asked, turning back towards the oval windows.
That was all anyone had done since I’d beaten Nikolas. Even my attendants had murmured their congratulations while they helped me dress. As if I had survived the Trials already.
As if I wasn’t terrified about tonight.
‘Actually, I wanted to wish you luck,’ Sabine said, crossing the receiving room to stand at my side. Sunlight lightened her eyes, and for a second, I could have sworn they were almost blue. Then I blinked, and they were their usual moss green. ‘For the final Trial.’
I let out a pent-up breath. ‘Most of the candidates seem to believe it’s a formality.’
‘Most of the candidates,’ Sabine retorted, ‘are here by choice. You and I . . .’ She trailed off, and in her pause, I heard everything she couldn’t say.
I almost asked her if my suspicions were correct: if she had been born with magic, and as a result, the emperor had forced her to participate in the Trials. But I didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, so I held my tongue.
‘It’s different for us,’ she said at last.
‘Yes,’ I murmured. ‘It is.’
For a moment, we stood in companionable silence. Aside from Aric, Sabine was the closest thing I had to a friend here. It was a strange realisation, but not an unwelcome one.
I felt a sudden pang of guilt. With all my own worries, I had completely forgotten about the Artisans’ private testing.
‘How was it? Your second test – with the emperor?’
‘Challenging,’ Sabine said with a shrug. ‘But I passed, so I must have said something right.’
I studied Sabine, unsure whether to believe her blasé attitude. I knew how intimidating the emperor could be, and I wondered if Sabine had sought me out because she was more unsettled than she let on.
‘Of course, I had help.’ Sabine smiled faintly at my obvious surprise. ‘Severin,’ she clarified. ‘He’s quite protective of the members of his Order. He isn’t like General Tiran or Zandri. He really cares.’
My feelings about Severin were complicated, to say the least. But I supposed he had tried to warn me – and he’d led me to the locket, which had allowed me to defeat Nikolas in the arena. If it had been left behind on Aldara—
I pushed aside the thought. ‘Do you have any . . . intuition or foresight, about this next Trial? Anything that might help us prepare for it?’
‘All I know is that it’s more dangerous than it seems. I overheard Emperor Kalias discussing it with Zandri.’
‘Zandri?’ My head jerked up at her name. ‘She’s involved?’
‘I think so. The emperor needs a way to ensure our answers are truthful – otherwise, what’s the point? I suppose Zandri will enchant us somehow.’
My stomach sank. ‘Do you think you can do it? Tell him that you’re loyal?’
Sabine considered this in silence, perhaps trying to decide how much she could trust me.
At last, she said, ‘Sometimes magic is used to interrogate prisoners. Most of the time, it’s very effective. But I’ve heard of prisoners who have learnt ways around it. I think that if you convince yourself it’s not a lie, then you can speak it like a truth. But that’s a difficult skill to learn, and you only have a few hours.’
‘What about you?’
Sabine smiled. A small, sly smile. ‘I’ve had longer than a few hours.’
Hope stirred at her words. ‘Can you teach me?’
‘I’m not sure that I need to. Aric told me that you were a performer with a circus. Performers take on many different roles – and the key to the best performance is to believe it yourself. Have you ever watched an actor who was so convincing that you believed they were their character?’
Instantly, I thought of my mother. When I was younger, I didn’t realise that we were running from someone. It must have occurred to me that it wasn’t exactly normal, moving so quickly from one place to the next, but I didn’t question it. That was just how life was.
And my mother had been so good at making it fun. She never looked happier, more vibrant or alive, than right before we started over somewhere new. To her, the moments before the choice were magical. In those moments, we could be anyone. The possibilities were endless.
More often than not, she selected the place and chose the people – shaping their personalities, their backstories, like an artist might shape a painting. Then she would sit me down and tell me a story of who we were going to become. As a child, I’d thought the characters my mother described really existed. Given breath by my mother’s stories.
Oh, my darling, Celeste had said, they are real. We give them life.
Of course, such a thing wasn’t really possible. I knew that. But the game I had once played with my mother was a game no longer.
It was now my best chance at survival.
I looked up to see Sabine watching me closely. ‘I think you’ll be just fine,’ she said, turning towards the door.
‘Wait,’ I called after her.
She glanced back at me, an eyebrow raised.
‘Thank you. For warning me.’
‘Don’t thank me yet,’ she returned, sassy as ever. ‘You still have to survive the Trial. We both do.’