Chapter 10
Ceri
Awailing sound filled the throne room, everyone darting glances at Lila, the betrothed woman who couldn’t stop crying.
Today was our meet and greet, a party hosted by Castle, where all the contestants and Cillian were stuffed into the same room so we could get to know one another before the first trial—which we still hadn’t been clued in on.
The throne room felt so huge with just eight of us, plus Morton. It was the first time I was seeing my competitors, and I had no idea what to think of all this.
Sun shone through the yellow and gold stained-glass windows that lined both sides of the space.
It was a spectacular room. I loved coming here to take it all in, the magnificence of it.
Historians of Fairwitch Isle thought this was the very place where Fairwitch once ruled.
It made sense, given how grand it was. Crowns were etched into the panes of the glass, glittering like jewels.
I turned my attention back to everyone in the room, golden crowns hovering over all our heads. They’d reappeared the moment we entered the throne room.
A small golden hat hovered over Morton’s head, and according to him, that meant he’d been chosen as the official trials master, which he hadn’t stopped mentioning since this event started.
“It’s a very important job, you know,” he was telling me as he perched on one of the tall tables peppering the room.
While we mingled, trays with drinks and food floated around. Though no one was eating much.
I took a sip of my champagne while Cillian tried to soothe Lila, but every time he said anything, it only made her cry harder. “So what does this important job entail? Is Niamh going to be okay with you taking a leave of absence from the library?”
Morton bristled, his wings flapping. “I’ll be able to do both jobs. The trials won’t last all day, every day. And Niamh understands that my role is very important. I’ll be enforcing the rules, making sure contestants are behaving appropriately, and making announcements.”
I peered at him. “But how do you know what announcements to make?”
Smoke puffed from his nostrils. “It just comes to me. At least according to that book, the one who is chosen as trials master will know when an announcement needs to be made and what to say.”
“Interesting,” I murmured, holding my champagne flute tight. I glanced at a table nearby where a cat was perched, licking her paw incessantly. I should probably talk to more than just the bookwyrm, get to know my competition. “Excuse me, Morton.”
He tipped his head while I strode to the table where the cat sat. “Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met.” Some of the Fair Folk were able to shift, and I’d learned many of them preferred their animal form over their human one.
“I’m Meera,” the cat said in the same lovely accent all the Fair Folk had, her black fur silky and smooth, her green eyes so vibrant. “You’re the dressmaker, right?”
“Right,” I said. A loud sob echoed through the room, and I cleared my throat. “It appears not everyone is happy to be here.”
Meera blinked, looking around. “I don’t think anyone wants to be here. I know I don’t.”
Cillian appeared at our table. “Well, that’s good to hear.”
Meera stared at him, not looking remotely embarrassed that the high prince had overheard her.
Cillian shot her his most dazzling smile, and she just blinked. “And what is your name?”
He held out his hand. Meera lifted her paw and allowed him to gently shake it before letting go.
“So I take it you’re not one of the contestants excited about the prospect of marrying me? I don’t bite.” Cillian leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Unless you want me to.”
I snorted at the way his attempt to flirt fell flat while Meera just continued to stare.
My absolute favorite thing in the world was finding someone who didn’t fall for Cillian’s charms.
Meera stared at her claws. “I’m attracted to cats. Are you a cat, Your Majesty?”
Cillian choked on his champagne, and I banged on his back until he finally cleared his throat. “No, I’m afraid I don’t possess any attributes of the feline variety.”
Meera leaned down to lick her paw. “Then I’m afraid this castle of yours chose the wrong contestant.” She flashed her teeth, and Cillian gulped. “I do bite, by the way, and I don’t think it’s the kind you’d enjoy.”
“Perfect,” Cillian mumbled, and I pressed my lips together as he shot me a glare. “Well, I’m going to go mingle and see if there is anyone here who actually wants to marry me.”
He strolled away, and I burst out laughing.
“Are you really only attracted to cats?” I peered at her.
“Yes,” Meera said. “Human bodies are so dull. You can barely jump or climb. No claws. And you’re so inflexible.”
“You’d be surprised.” I sent a wink Meera’s way and her lips peeled back.
“I might like you yet, human.”
“You can call me Ceri.” I leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “And I might like you too. Not many can scare Cillian away. That was entertaining. How are you going to navigate trials when you have no desire to marry a human?”
Meera studied her long claws. “Just because I don’t want to marry the prince doesn’t mean I can’t have fun. This is grand.”
It was oddly quiet, and I realized the woman’s sobbing had finally subsided as Siobhan wrapped her arms around her, patting her back and murmuring in her ear.
“Did I just hear nobody wants to marry the prince?” Another person appeared at our table, someone I was very familiar with because I’d made many tailored outfits for him over the years. Marsten flipped his long, dark hair over his shoulder and stroked his stubbled jaw.
“You don’t want to marry the prince either?” Meera asked.
“Are you kidding me?” he drawled. “I would gobble that man up like a cookie. But unfortunately, I don’t think I’m his type.” He eyed me. “Not like Ceri, anyway, in that stunning blue dress. You look fabulous, darling.”
“First of all, I’m not his type either. Second of all, I know.”
Marsten smiled, his pink-painted lips stretching wide. They perfectly matched the pink powder dusted on his eyelids.
“I am a dressmaker, after all.” I pulled at the long lace sleeves of my blue dress. “It’s my job to look fabulous. How could people trust me with their own wardrobe if I couldn’t even style myself?”
“This is why being a cat is so much simpler.” Meera sighed. “And if none of us are compatible with the high prince, how is any of this supposed to work?”
I looked around at the contestants, wondering how many of us would actually be a good fit for Cillian.
Right now he was talking to a faerie with flaming red hair—literally.
Her hair was made of fire. Every time she moved, embers popped and sparked, and Cillian had to duck to the side to avoid being set on fire.
I didn’t know her name, but she must’ve been one of the nature Fair Folk.
Unlike the others, they couldn’t shift into animal form.
But they could shift into an elemental form.
Hers was clearly fire. I’d also seen Fair Folk who could shift into trees, water, and flowers.
This was certainly an interesting bunch for these marriage trials.
Meera was right. It seemed like almost no one was suited to marry Cillian, or he wasn’t suited to marry them, which made me wonder what Castle was playing at.
My gaze traveled to Siobhan, who was still comforting Lila with her tear-streaked face and puffy red eyes.
The lavender-haired faerie was clearly still the best choice to become queen.
“Hi, darling. I don’t think I introduced myself. I’m Marsten.” He looked at Meera, who flashed her teeth.
“I like you. You’re hairy.”
Marsten made an impressed face. “You know, no one has ever complimented my hair before.” He flipped his long brown hair over his shoulder. “Thank you.”
Meera dipped her head. “Are you as entertained by all of this as I am?”
Marsten snorted and took a sip of his champagne. “I’m just here for the ride.” He lifted his glass. “And free champagne.”
“And because you have no choice,” Meera said in her flat voice.
“That too.” He lifted his glass higher.
“So what about you?” Meera’s green eyes swung to me. “Are you excited at the chance to become queen?”
Marsten slung his arm around me. “Oh, Ceri knows the prince intimately.”
Meera froze in surprise, and I elbowed Marsten.
“I don’t know him intimately. Well, I do, I suppose, but not in the way Marsten is implying. We’re childhood friends.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Meera said.
“Oh. Right.” Was I excited? “Well . . .” I started as Morton slithered up to the dais and called for everyone’s attention, the chatter in the room slowly fading into silence.
“Welcome to the official start of the marriage trials.”
Lila let out a muffled sob, burying her face in Siobhan’s shoulder.
Morton blinked, shaggy brows furrowing as he stared at her, waiting for her cries to subside.
He cleared his throat. “As I was saying, welcome to the marriage trials. There will be six trials in all, and after each trial, there will be an elimination, decided on by Castle.”
Marsten raised a finger. “Question,” he said in a singsong voice. “What does eliminated mean, exactly? Eliminated as in our heads get chopped off, or something gentler that doesn’t involve blood and gore?”
My hand went to my neck, even though Morton had already assured me these trials wouldn’t be dangerous. If my father got even a whiff of danger, he’d lose his mind, and I couldn’t have him falling apart on me when I would be gone so often and he’d be alone.
Morton stiffened. “I assure you, there is no dying involved in the elimination.” He paused. “That being said, I don’t exactly know what elimination means. It could mean not being part of the trials anymore . . . or something else entirely.”
My throat grew thick, and everyone shot each other uneasy glances. I didn’t like that answer, not at all, and I imagined Castle locking those who were eliminated away in some room, never to be seen again.
Cillian clapped his hands. “Okay, thank you, Morton. That’s enough.”
The bookwyrm arched his neck to look up at the high prince. “But I’m not done—”
“Yes you are,” Cillian said out the side of his mouth. “Let’s not scare anyone more than you already have.”
“But they need to know—”
“Ah, ba-ba-ba-ba.” Cillian stepped in front of Morton, completely blocking the bookwyrm from view. “So how are we all feeling?” he said in a chipper tone that defied the mood of the room.
Everyone stared at him with stony expressions.
“Perfect.” He grimaced. “This is going to be so much fun.”
“I love watching him squirm. This is already exceeding my expectations,” Meera said.
“This champagne is exceeding my expectations,” Marsten murmured. “Absolutely delicious.”
“Okay, I think we’ve had enough partying for one day.” Cillian swallowed. “Everyone go home, get some rest, and get ready for the marriage trials to officially begin—”
Before he could finish, our crowns began glowing so bright I had to shield my eyes.
“What’s happening?” Lila asked in a shaky voice.
“I told you to let me finish talking,” Morton said to Cillian. “I had another announcement to make.”
“Well, you were terrifying my audience,” the high prince shot back.
I reached to grab for the table, but it disappeared and my hand hit air.
The floor under our feet began to shift, each of the other tables disappearing with an ominous pop.
Meera screeched and landed on the floor on all fours, claws out.
“My champagne spilled.” Marsten looked at his red silk blouse and black trousers, both of which I’d made for him. “That’s unfortunate.”
The yellow and gold stained-glass windows of the throne room shattered, the glass dissipating before it hit us.
Everyone here had experienced Castle’s antics, so no one would have been surprised about it shifting, but what had me—and probably everyone else—stiff with alarm was that this shifting might have been related to the competition.
Cillian had his feet braced as the dais dropped away from him.
Then the floor fell out from under us.
Suddenly, I was falling. We dropped into a black hole, everyone letting out screams of terror. Castle had never done this before. My heart leaped to my throat, and I squeezed my eyes shut as wind roared around me while I free fell in this abyss.
Cries echoed around the dark space, but I couldn’t see anything, the harsh whip of the wind spinning me this way and that as bile rose in my throat. It felt like we were dropping forever, just endless black and flailing and insides twisting.
After what felt like an eternity, my feet finally hit solid ground, and I stumbled forward onto my hands and knees. I still couldn’t see anything, but as the roaring sound of the wind died down, I could clearly hear Morton’s voice ringing out as he said, “Welcome to your first trial.”