I know Death. There is something intimate about the ending of a life.
Over the years, Death and I have come to share a special bond. But fear is a far less familiar feeling. One that has never gripped me as tightly as it had in that study.
Calum agreed with Easel’s proposition and urged Kitt to do the same. But my focus was wholly on her. I watched Paedyn ponder this deadly decision, watch the agreement form on those pretty lips of hers. Rage was a rumble in my chest that rose to my tongue, shouting that she can’t be serious. I stood before her, fought the urge to cup her face, and told her she cannot enter another set of Trials. I simply wouldn’t let her risk everything for a kingdom that would rather see her die.
But I should know better than to give Paedyn Gray an order. She is not one of my soldiers, after all. No, she is so much more.
That was when she looked me in the eyes, took Death by the hand, and declared once again that she would enter herself into these new Trials.
“It’s the only way,” she had said sternly, though her face was pale. “I have to prove myself to them.”
“And if you die?” I’d shot back, chest heaving.
Her next words still plague my thoughts, more than a day later.
“Then they will have been right about me. I’m a weakness.”
The ring feels foreign on my finger.
I pull my hands behind my back, hiding them from the sea of prying eyes beneath the dais. Fidgeting with the thick Enforcer’s ring, I can practically feel the blood that has been spilled by those who wore it before me. I blow out a breath, keeping my gaze on the large throne room doors ahead.
I—and the rest of the court, for that matter—have been begrudgingly awaiting our king to grace us with his presence. The minutes drag by, leaving me alone atop the dais and very much on display for the entire court. By the time I’ve considered borrowing a Veil’s power from the crowd to simply vanish from this unfortunate situation, the doors swing open.
In steps the king. The golden crown glitters atop his head, bleeding into the hair beneath. His outfit is simple at first glance, refined at second. The buttoned shirt he wears is pressed perfectly, tucked into equally pristine green pants. But every feature is enhanced by what he carries on his arm.
Her hand is threaded through his bent elbow, tan skin glowing against the white dress hugging her closely. The neckline encircles her throat, hiding what I know to be a branding of my father’s doing above her heart. Shoulders exposed, waist cinched tightly, hair waving around her ears.
She looks equally youthful and thoroughly weathered by the world. It’s a contradiction she wears confidently.
But the draping white fabric is a message to this court, a reminder piercing my heart. She is a bride-to-be. But not mine.
I swallow at the sight.
Her eyes are on mine as she steps up onto the dais beside me. I stare too long, too desperately to be nothing more than her Enforcer. With more than a little effort, I pry my attention from her, returning it to the door even as Kitt begins speaking.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the court, thank you for your patience. I’m sure you are all very curious as to why I’ve called you here today.” His voice carries over the intrigued faces filling the room. “As you all now know, there was an attack in the slums during our parade. Most of you will likely not find this to be grievous news. But you should.”
At the sound of his deep breath, my eyes flick to him. Exhaustion smothers his features. “I know that my engagement to Paedyn Gray, along with the sudden acceptance of Ordinaries, will be difficult to adjust to. But I will not tolerate outright acts of defiance against my decrees. Especially those I make for all our sakes.” His voice softens slightly. “But I do understand how difficult this change is, and how this kingdom does not wish to accept Paedyn as their queen. Despite the necessity of this arrangement, I offer you the opportunity to judge her strength and see for yourself if she is capable of becoming a ruler.”
Murmurs ripple throughout the room, forcing Kitt to raise his voice. “Paedyn Gray will once again compete in a series of Trials.”
Giddy gasps ring out at his words, followed by bloodthirsty nods of approval. This is what they wanted—and their king provides.
“These Trials,” Kitt continues, “will be for the future queen alone. They will be structured around the three B’s you all know my father to have lived by. It is bravery, benevolence, and brutality that make a great ruler. These events will test each of those qualities. This will allow Paedyn to prove herself worthy of the throne—and your loyalty.”
The court is thrilled to find their proposition becoming a reality, likely because the outcome will mean certain death for an Ordinary. Paedyn barely survived the first set of Trials she was thrown into. Even still, Ilya may not deign to accept her if she makes it out of these ones alive.
“Once again, we will be posting fliers all across the city,” Kitt states over the whispering crowd. “This test is for Ilyans alone. As far as the surrounding kingdoms know, we have gracefully accepted our Ordinary queen. And I hope that will prove to be true in due time. For all our sakes.” There is a pause before his next damning declaration. “The first Trial will take place in three days’ time.”
This solution seems to satisfy the court. They will happily sit back and watch her die, smile if she meets the death they think she deserves. But I will only survive this life if she does.
She steps forward then, every gaze snapping to her. The dress clings to her in a way I long to, eyes sweep over the crowd that I now desperately wish I was in. She is striking in the most formidable of ways. Sharp like the pointed stare she gives, the tongue I’ve tasted, the end of her dagger that’s worn my blood.
The words that leave her lips are stern, possessing the subtlety that anger lacks. “I know I am not who you want as your queen. In fact, I did not ask for this. I’ve dreamed of nothing in this life except to survive it.” Her gaze travels around the room, bright and bold. “But I do this for the hope of a kingdom far better than this one. One where Ordinaries and every ranking of Elites live side by side. One where we still have a kingdom to call home.”
She takes another step forward, forcing me to fight the awe beginning to slip through my mask of indifference. “I will show you my bravery, my benevolence, my brutality. I will survive these Trials and so much more. Still, you will likely hate me.” She lifts her chin, expression deceitfully calm. “So bow at my feet with a sneer, if you must. I won’t see it with your face to the ground.”
My lips twitch, utterly amazed by her. Looping her arm back through Kitt’s, she turns one last time toward the crowd. “If it is power you seek from me, then so be it.”
Kitt wears an expression of muted surprise as he nods slowly to the court in silent dismissal. But they don’t move, nor do the loose lips they all possess. No, they are all too busy staring at her.
And so am I as she strides, arm hooked within the king’s, out of the throne room.
