The Order of Masks

Chapter Thirty-Seven

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Mira

My entire body stiffened as I entered the throne room. A crowd was already gathered in front of the dais, where Emperor Kalias sat on his heavy stone throne. Zandri loomed at his side, and behind her were the other members of the royal family: Empress Ivalene, Roran and Cassius. All three looked predictably bored and uninterested, though in Cassius’s case, I knew that boredom was feigned.

He might be the only royal who wanted me to survive this task. Except, perhaps, Scarlett.

I searched the room, but there was no sign of her distinctive red hair and pale skin.

My gaze darted back to Emperor Kalias, lingering on the dagger strapped to his side and the sharp points of his bone crown. This was his last chance to kill me before I became a full-fledged Order member. Somehow, I didn’t think he was going to waste it.

‘Don’t look at him,’ Aric murmured. ‘Look at me.’

I did. Aric’s brown eyes were steady, grounding. I couldn’t help but compare them to Cassius’s midnight-blue ones: unpredictable, dangerous, as likely to be cruel as they were to be kind. Out of the two of them, I knew who I trusted. I was also acutely aware of my limitations without the prince on my side.

But none of that mattered right now. My focus needed to be on surviving this Trial – not what came next.

‘We’ll be fine,’ Aric said, though he didn’t sound convinced. ‘Thanks to Sabine, we’ve had some forewarning.’

I thought of the measly three hours we’d had to practice, after I’d tracked Aric down and relayed everything Sabine had told me. Aric had done well, fielding my questions with carefully chosen portions of truth. But if the emperor asked him a question he couldn’t avoid—

Aric’s fingers laced through mine. I squeezed his hand as the first three candidates approached the dais, all from the Order of Artisans. Sabine led the way, confident and poised. I tensed when she reached the emperor, but he presented her with the final token without asking a single question. Her two companions followed: a tall, dark-haired boy and a petite blonde girl, who scurried up the steps like she was afraid Emperor Kalias might change his mind.

He didn’t. Nor did he question the other Artisan candidates, leading me to suspect that the emperor had already established their loyalty during their private test – or perhaps Severin had vetted them for him.

All too soon, the Warrior candidates were approaching the stage. I let Aric’s hand fall from mine, but my eyes were glued to him as he climbed the steps. This was how Kain must have looked: strong, capable and honourable, the very definition of what a Warrior should be.

Half of their number had been cut during the second Trial. Most of the remaining candidates were legacies like Brutus, or of noble birth. They greeted the emperor with a confidence born of familiarity, and I heard a few mentions of family members and vows of service. The emperor allowed them to pass without question, their words blurring together: I am honoured to serve the Ravalian Empire . . . I vow to serve you as loyally as my father before me . . .

And then it was Aric’s turn.

Before Aric even reached the throne, Emperor Kalias inclined his head.

Zandri extended her forearm. The moment Aric took it, red tendrils encircled them both. Those tendrils didn’t penetrate the dark leather Zandri wore, but they sank into the exposed skin of Aric’s arms, drawing blood.

Anger rose up in me like tempered steel. But it was quickly eclipsed by fear as I wondered what would happen to Aric if he lied – and whether those tendrils were strong enough to cut through bone.

Emperor Kalias’s voice echoed through the hall as he asked, ‘Why did you fight against my son in the arena?’

Panic clawed at my insides. This wasn’t a question we had practised, and I cursed myself for not thinking of it.

At Aric’s hesitation, the tendrils cut in deeper. It must have hurt, but his face remained expressionless.

In a steady voice, he replied, ‘Because Roran was going to kill a girl as she reached for her sword.’

‘And that bothered you?’

This time, there was no hesitation. ‘I believe all Warriors should possess a code of honour. At the very least, an opponent should have the opportunity to fight back.’

Emperor Kalias considered that for a moment. ‘A nice sentiment,’ he said finally, ‘but would you have intervened for a different girl? One who wasn’t your personal friend?’

‘Yes,’ Aric replied, his voice clear and resolute. ‘I would.’

The emperor drummed his fingers against the armrest as he appraised Aric. I expected him to question Aric’s relationship with me, but instead he asked, ‘Why do you want to become one of my Warriors?’

Aric’s composure didn’t falter as he said, ‘I want to make a difference. My brother was a proud member of the Order of Warriors, and he’s the reason I’m standing in front of you today.’

I tensed at the mention of Kain. I hadn’t warned Aric about his brother’s ties to the resistance, hoping that ignorance would keep him safe. But there was no way Emperor Kalias didn’t know.

I braced myself for the emperor to ask a more direct question about Aric’s loyalties, but perhaps he was wary of doing so in such a public setting. No doubt he would instruct Zandri and maybe even some trusted Warriors to watch Aric closely. Still, he seemed satisfied with Aric’s answer – satisfied enough to hand a golden pin to Zandri.

She pierced it through the dark material of Aric’s shirt and released the magic. The red tendrils dissolved as if they had never existed.

My racing heart refused to slow, even as Aric joined the other Warriors. Safe.

For now.

The interrogations continued until only the Mask candidates were left. I followed Odessa and Danica up the steps, my legs leaden. Dressed in a golden gown that left little to the imagination, Odessa didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned about facing the emperor or the court. She curtsied to Emperor Kalias, pledging her loyalty in a soft, breathy voice. Danica went next, smiling demurely as she received her final token.

My turn.

Zandri’s cool fingers took hold of my bare arm as I reached the throne, but I didn’t shift my gaze from the emperor. Not even as I felt Zandri’s power surge between us – and the sting of those red tendrils sinking into my flesh.

‘Do you blame me for your mother’s execution?’ the emperor asked, his tone conversational.

‘I blame myself.’ The red tendrils tightened – as if they sensed this wasn’t the whole truth. But it wasn’t a lie, either.

‘Very clever,’ Emperor Kalias murmured, so only I could hear him. More loudly, he said, ‘I could ask you any number of questions, but in this case, I believe a simple statement would be far more effective. I assume you heard the pledge of loyalty that Odessa Tiran just made?’

Those damn tendrils tightened, prompting me to answer. ‘Yes.’

‘Good,’ Emperor Kalias said, sounding satisfied. ‘I would like you to repeat it.’

My teeth sank into my lower lip as I recalled Odessa’s exact words. I pledge my loyalty to you and your crown, she had said to the emperor. I swear to protect the Ravalian Empire to my last breath, and to serve my Order with valour.

Even a loyal candidate might not have been able to say that and mean it. And I was far from a loyal candidate.

‘If what you say is a lie,’ Emperor Kalias continued, ‘then Zandri’s magic will detect it, and you will bleed out in front of me. But if you decline, I will consider you to have failed this Trial.’

And I would be executed, just like my mother. My gaze darted past Zandri – to where Roran stood, his hungry gaze fixed on me. Whatever happened, I wouldn’t let him be the one to kill me.

I would rather let those tendrils shed my blood.

Closing my eyes, I called up the persona I had created after Sabine’s visit – inspired by my mother’s early life, but without her conscience. A selfish girl, desperate to do whatever it took to survive. A girl who had no love for anyone except herself.

I sank deep into my own mind, until an image formed in front of me: the Mira Tundra I might have been if I had grown up alone in Ravalis, eking out an existence on the streets and stealing from others to survive.

A girl with no parents, no friends, and no real future.

A girl whose loyalty could be bought by the man in front of me.

It was that Mira Tundra who addressed the emperor now, eager to take advantage of the lifeline he offered. It was that Mira Tundra who pledged her loyalty, swearing to protect the empire that would also protect her. It was that Mira Tundra who vowed to serve her Order with valour, because she was thrilled to enter the Order of Masks, where her skills for survival and deception would be valued and appreciated. Where she would finally be welcomed into a family of her very own.

When I finished speaking, there was silence. Stillness.

I glanced down at the red tendrils encircling my skin. Around me, I knew that everyone in the throne room was doing the same: waiting for those red tendrils to cut into my skin and spill my blood all over the dais.

But I hadn’t lied. In that moment, when I had made my pledge, every word had come from a place of truth.

It just hadn’t been my truth.

‘She’s passed,’ Zandri said, and severed the connection.

I stumbled back from her, rubbing my bloody arms. Already, the cuts were beginning to heal – at a significantly faster rate than should be natural. I felt a stab of tiredness and dizziness.

Slowly, I raised my head to look into Emperor Kalias’s cold face.

‘Such devotion,’ he said, his grey eyes locked on mine. ‘It’s almost difficult to believe.’

A shiver raised the hairs on my arms, even though the room was unpleasantly warm. Perspiration beaded on my forehead as I waited for Emperor Kalias to present me with the third token.

Instead, his cruel mouth curved into a smile. ‘There’s just one last thing,’ he said smoothly. ‘As much as I appreciate your pledge of loyalty, saying a few words doesn’t change the facts of your parentage. For you to truly prove your loyalty, for you to ascend to the Third Order, you have to choose: Ravalia or Kalure.’

He nodded to one of the black-garbed Warriors, who disappeared for a moment and then returned, dragging a chained man into view.

I went still. Though I’d only met this man once, I recognised him immediately.

Governor Halvor.

My eyes lingered on the dried blood staining his clothes, the bruises marring his skin. Perhaps those things should have been my first clue. But I didn’t want to see. I didn’t want to understand.

And then he spoke, saying the words that damned him. That damned us both.

‘Your Majesty.’

A gasp went up from the audience. The Warriors pulled back on the manacles, jerking the governor to his feet. Their grip must have been painful, but he didn’t flinch. He was watching me, as if I was the only person who mattered.

Your Majesty . The words sounded powerful, murmured in his deep voice. They sounded like the person I wanted to be. Except I could barely save myself, let alone save a country. My time in the arena had shown me my talents, and they had nothing to do with leading. I was good at breaking things, not putting them back together.

I felt the heavy stares of the crowd, waiting to see how I would react. What I would do.

Which country are you loyal to, Princess? Emperor Kalias had asked me once. Ravalia or Kalure?

Because you can’t be loyal to both.

‘This man,’ the emperor continued with a mocking smile, ‘could have married my daughter, and ruled Kalure as a provincial governor. Instead, he chose to conspire against us.’

A Warrior walked over, a silver blade in his hands – a ceremonial dagger used by the Order of Masks.

‘Your final Trial,’ Emperor Kalias told me, nodding to the dagger. ‘All you need to do is take that blade and kill him.’

My eyes went to the unarmed prisoner at my feet. The Kalurian governor who had looked at me with such reverence. The man who had laughed with my mother like an old friend. Who had offered the use of his ship.

Who had called me his queen.

It was a cruel, terrible choice. Refusal meant failure – and failure meant death. But what kind of person would I be if I killed this man, all to save my own life?

On the other side of the dais, Aric’s face was pale, his lips bloodless. He looked at me like I was already dead. He didn’t think I could do it.

But if I threw this blade down and walked away, the emperor would execute the governor anyway. And then he would execute me. I wouldn’t make it a single step before the Warriors descended. And if Aric tried to help me, like he had during the Choosing Ceremony, he would die too.

I stared down at Governor Halvor. Did he have family waiting for him back in Kalure, loved ones who would curse me until the end of my days?

I wondered if he’d known my father. I wondered if he would still have tried to help me and my mother if he’d known how it would end. Would he have looked at me with such hope if he’d known that his queen would become his executioner?

‘We don’t have all day,’ Emperor Kalias drawled from his throne. ‘What’s it going to be, Princess? Ravalia or Kalure?’

If I could have died to save this man’s life, I might have. I might have walked away and let the Warriors kill me, knowing he would live. Instead, I clutched the blade tighter in shaking hands.

When I glanced up at the emperor, I realised that he still didn’t think I was going to do it. But he didn’t know the vow I’d made.

One day – in a month, a year, even a decade from now – I will make you pay for what you did. I will make you bleed, like you made her bleed.

The thing about vengeance was this: you had to be alive to get it.

My eyes locked with Cassius’s. He had promised to help me destroy the emperor, but only if I survived this Trial. I could almost hear him saying the words: This is your chance, Mira, to convince me that you’re worth backing.

The prince nodded once, as if in encouragement. He was probably the only person in the entire crowd who thought I could do this.

My whole body was trembling by the time I reached the governor’s kneeling form. His face was upturned, his eyes staring into mine. They were calm, steady; they reminded me of my mother’s eyes.

‘What’s your first name?’ I whispered, crouching at his side. I couldn’t explain why it was so important for me to know, only that it was.

‘It’s S?ren,’ he said, giving me a sad smile. A smile I didn’t deserve.

I slowly straightened. The emperor shifted impatiently on his throne, and his guards tensed. In contrast, the rest of the audience was too still, too quiet.

‘Do it,’ S?ren urged, and his conviction was somehow worse than if he’d hated me. ‘Do it.’

He didn’t say those two words again, but I saw them in his eyes. Your Majesty. My queen.

His devotion almost broke me. Somehow, he still looked at me with reverence – even now, as I aimed a dagger at his chest.

‘Fight for them, Kasmira. Promise me.’

Tears dripped down my face and onto his, like rain. And I knew that the image of his face would stay with me for as long as I lived.

‘I promise,’ I said–

And stabbed him through the heart.

Blood spilled onto the ground as he collapsed limply to the floor. For a moment, I could have sworn I saw it twice – that I saw my mother fall too, red spreading across the volcanic sand of the arena. For a moment, my own scream echoed in my ears.

I didn’t scream this time, and I wasn’t sure which was worse. Shock and horror – or the absence of it.

It was physically painful to look away from his body. To raise my gaze to the throne and beyond, where the entire royal family watched.

Let them doubt my conviction now. Let them try to kill me now .

‘I choose Ravalia,’ I said, in a voice like death.

The world was taking on a hazy quality, a kind of dreamlike unreality. I’d just killed someone so I could live. I’d killed one of my own people, and I should be crumbling. I should be breaking, like I’d forever broken him.

But when I met the emperor’s cold eyes, when I heard him pronounce me a member of the Order of Masks, I felt nothing.

Nothing at all.