Chapter 14 #2
He’s right. Four distinct clusters have formed around us, one with notably older participants than the others.
It’s the biggest group, with around a dozen people.
Knights. Each one of them is ripped, with taut muscles displayed even from the women’s backless ballgowns.
Unlike the group I find myself attached to, these men are shirtless beneath their jackets, revealing the intricate designs of their chest tattoos: circles of Wrohelm, the chevrons of Rowell, and the three bands of Dorain, all intertwined with various symbols.
Not just for their Gods, but for their families, too.
Their personal desires. But all of them have one thing in common: the lined symbol of a wolf.
They are all bonded, which means to be here, they must be separated from their dire wolves.
I wonder if it hurts or if it’s like the separation I feel from Kay – a dull throbbing behind my ribs.
Thankfully, I don’t recognise any of the faces in the other groups, so either the Rowell Rettlings have already left or they’re not ready yet. Assuming Zara even makes it to the ball. I don’t know how long it would take healers to work on burns like that, but I can’t imagine it would be quick.
‘So shall we get going?’ Llinos loops her arm through mine. ‘First ball of the trials. Ready?’
The knot in my stomach says no, but it’s Jai who answers.
‘Let’s get the fucking parade started,’ he grunts.
As we start the march across the courtyard and towards the palace, the cold wind bites at my arms and I wish I’d brought some sort of shawl to cover them. I’ll remember for next time.
Assuming I make it to one of the other balls, that is.
‘You feeling okay?’ Llinos mutters to me. ‘You know he’s going to be there, right?’
My stomach squirms. I don’t need to ask who ‘he’ is.
While I’m sure an exception will be made for Zara, I can’t imagine the king would be too happy if his only son missed the event.
Which means that for the first time since he had us stripped, I’m going to be face-to-face with Prince Kyor.
At least I have allies with me. That’s something, right?
‘Holy shit. They don’t do things like this on the islands,’ Coulter says as we step into the outer atrium of the place. ‘Korvane must be broke if he spends all his money on stuff like this.’
‘Not when it’s the other cities’ taxes he spends,’ Loch bites back.
Llinos shoots him a look. ‘As we have discussed numerous times, I can accept that one, or even most of us, might get killed in the trials,’ she says, ‘but I will not accept it if you get yourself killed because you piss off a member of the royal family. Or anyone in this court. Keep your tongue civil. Got it?’
A low rumble of noncommittal noises drifts from Loch and Coulter.
‘She asked if you got it,’ Benny repeats with a glare at the other men. This time, when they respond, they are louder in their agreement. ‘Good. Don’t forget our priorities here. We have a gifting to win,’ he says firmly.
When I walk to the hall, anger stirs, hot and heady. Korvane is such an utter prick. Lots of memories may have faded from my mind since leaving the High Hold, and though I attended only a few of the balls as a child, I’m certain I’ve never experienced anything like this.
The hall is decked out in dark wood, but it’s the ceiling that’s the most breathtaking feature.
It’s as high as the temple’s, but here the light comes from massive chandeliers instead of windows.
The design of each is deliberate, with six rings stretching outward, like the six rings of a Hold.
It’s not exactly subtle, but it is beautiful.
What makes me baulk, however, is the choice of candles he’s used to fill it.
Smaller, dimmer ones to fill the outer loops, getting larger and brighter until they reach the point right in the centre – the High Hold. It is a brash and arrogant analogy.
Despite the sheer number of Korvane’s people who live there, there are no lights for the slums.
One of us. Yes, I think I am. More than I realised. The depths of the slums have ingrained themselves into me in more ways than the dirt embedded into my skin.
Llinos beams at me. ‘I think we’re supposed to go this way.’ With a slight tug on my arm, she directs us towards a large arched doorway. Though she’s barely taken two steps in when our route is blocked.
My line of sight falls straight on a broad chest I immediately recognise, though it’s not the one I’ve been thinking about almost constantly since the incident in the kitchen.
The dark leather jacket he wears is unbuttoned, revealing a crisp cream shirt beneath it, fastened with garnet-coloured buttons, and for a second, all I can do is stare at the hints of tattoos and muscles visible beneath the fabric.
A light tan weapons belt is slung around his waist, and the decorative, gem-covered hilt of a dagger pokes out of the top.
It’s not something you’d use in an actual fight.
Appearance over substance. Like so much of Korvane’s court.
Though somehow it doesn’t annoy me as much given the wearer.
‘Jonas?’ As I shift my gaze up to his face, I try to keep my voice sounding as neutral as possible, but it’s hard. You’d have to be dead not to be attracted to him in this moment.
‘Wow, Rose.’ Jonas’s voice is breathy as his eyes wander all the way down my body and back up again.
‘Who knew you could scrub up so well?’ A smile begins to form on his lips, only for his jaw to drop as his brain catches up with how offensive his words were.
He flushes bright red. ‘Oh Gods, I didn’t mean, you know …
because of the slums or anything. I just mean … I meant …’
‘It’s fine,’ I say, placing my hand on his arm and liking how easily it fits there. ‘I know what you meant. And you don’t look so bad yourself.’
I have no intention of using Jonas as a guard in any of the trials, or when facing Rettlings like Zara, but having Jonas here, in a ballroom full of enemies … well, that’s a comfort I’m willing to accept.
‘Thank you for the gift. The sand bucket,’ I clarify. ‘Very amusing.’
‘Oh, there was no joke involved.’ His lips twist. ‘I just didn’t want you setting fire to the entire barracks before we’ve even got to the first trial.’
I let out a laugh at his warm teasing.
‘So are you going to introduce us?’ Llinos interrupts.
‘Sorry, yes.’ I step back so Jonas can see the rest of my group. ‘Jonas Lorathin of Wrohelm, this is Llinos … Llinos of the Eastern Isles.’ I make a mental note to learn the islanders’ surnames. ‘And this is Jai, Coulter, Loch, and Benny.’
As Benny steps forward to shake his hand, Jonas’s brow furrows.
‘Haven’t we met before?’
‘Probably, if you’ve been dragged along to these things for decades like I have,’ Benny replies with an easy laugh. ‘Now, let’s get in there. I need a drink.’
As Benny and the others head inside, Jonas places his hand on my waist, twisting me around to face him.
‘Rose, before you go in, there’s someone I need to warn you about.’
‘Your father?’ My heart skitters. ‘Is he here?’ I need to make sure he got my message about Kay. Hearing that she’s somewhere safe, where she can keep tabs on how I’m doing, would be the positive news I need to get through the rest of the night.
‘Not yet, no. But look, Rose, I’m not sure how to say this. You just need to know—’
‘Oh fuck,’ Llinos says, her voice loud enough to cut Jonas off. ‘I don’t know if I’m impressed or terrified.’
I follow her line of sight.
Turns out Zara isn’t holed up with the healers after all.