I flinch at the tingling sensation in my temple.
Not because it’s painful to have a wound close beneath the hands of a Healer.
No, it’s the familiarity that hurts most.
The feel of my skin stitching back together only reminds me of when it was my father on the other end of that ability. Once, his nimble fingers were the ones to run over every ache and gash earned during my long training sessions. And after he had healed me, or I’d helped him heal another, we would share a butterscotch to celebrate another day survived.
Until he was gone. And now I’ve forgotten what the sweet tastes like.
I shift on the bed, my body tingling with each pass of the Healer’s swift hands. Attempting to distract myself from the familiar feel of it, I stare instead at the late afternoon light spilling through so many surrounding windows. Kai hadn’t left my bedroom until the early hours of the morning, leaving me to sleep most of the day away.
He had tried to convince me to see a Healer up until the moment I watched him slip out the door. But I was far too tired to entertain the idea until this very moment, having stumbled out of the bath in a tremendous amount of pain. And with the ball looming only a handful of hours away, I force myself to endure the ache of being healed by unfamiliar hands.
Ellie bustles around the room, readying herself for the great deal of work that awaits. Having slept so late, I’ve left her with little time to make my damp hair and raw skin look presentable. I watch her quick movements, unnerved by the fact that we have yet to speak since Kai’s late arrival in my rooms.
“You’re all set, miss.”
I startle at the man’s deep voice beside me. “Yes, thank you,” I manage to the Healer, adding a quick nod in emphasis. He returns the gesture before making his way out of the room, leaving my healed body behind.
With a sigh of relief, I stand to my feet, stretching out stiff limbs. “It no longer feels like I nearly died yesterday,” I say cheerily. “In fact, I think I may actually be in the mood for dancing.”
“Someone seems happy.” Ellie pats the vanity chair with a smile, beckoning me to her.
I sit before her, letting my eyelids flutter shut as she begins powdering my skin. “I feel good. Hopeful.”
“I’m glad.”
Something about her tone has my eyes snapping open. “And this good mood has nothing to do with K—” I take a breath. “With the Enforcer.”
“Mm-hmm,” she hums, lips tucked into a thin smile.
“Ellie, there is nothing going on between me and…” I trail off when she shakes her head at me.
“Paedyn, I don’t need to know about you and the prince. I just…” She chews on her bottom lip. “I just hope you’re being careful. Queens are not as easily forgiven as their kings.”
Her words are a much-needed reminder. My eyes fall on the ring still residing on my right hand—a detail Kitt will not soon forget. The warm bath water has thoroughly cleaned it of the mud, leaving the promise to glint in my lap.
With a deep breath, I slip it onto the correct finger.
Ellie doesn’t seem to notice as she continues with that soft smile of hers. “But I enjoy seeing you giddy like this. It reminds me of Adena and her boy from Loot.”
My whole body stiffens beneath her hand currently dragging a dark line of kohl atop my lashes. “What are you talking about?”
I hear the hesitance in her voice, the quiet sadness that remains there. “That’s right. She never told you, did she?” She lets the words linger. “There was this boy she would sneak off to see while you were in the Trials.”
My heart pounds in time with her words, aching like it has since the day Adena died. “Why… why didn’t she tell me?”
Ellie pulls back, allowing me to open the eyes now welling with tears. “She didn’t want to distract you from the Trials.” Her lips pull into a thin smile. “She said you wouldn’t rest until you met him and approved. So the plan was to tell you after. But then…”
“There was no after,” I whisper, turning away with a shuddering breath. “She was always too damn selfless.”
We fall silent as Ellie hesitantly returns to the task at hand. After a long while in which I dwell only within my thoughts, I manage to gather enough courage to peek at my reflection. But I don’t recognize the girl within it. Her lashes are darkened, her lips tinted the color of blood. She looks like the sharpness that piercing grief hones one into. Like fearlessness carved out of necessity, not courage.
“I want her with me tonight. Adena,” I say quietly, breaking the silence that has long stretched between us.
Ellie nods in understanding and swings open the closet doors.
Silver pools at my feet, cascading down the body above.
Cool air brushes the low dip of my bare back. The dagger strapped to my thigh is more of a comfort than anything, as is the steel ring I spin on my thumb.
So much has changed since the first time I wore this dress. And yet, here I am again, walking toward a ball in honor of the Trials I’m competing in. Only, I’ve now gained a ring on my hand. Cut the hair falling down my back. Earned more scars I’m ashamed of. Lost the girl who made this very dress for me.
I pull at the elegant shawl around my shoulders, ensuring it covers the O carved above my heart. Thankfully, Ellie hadn’t questioned me when I requested to wear the silver wrapping. It ties elegantly beneath my breasts, draping over my shoulders while still covering the maimed skin I wish to hide.
Kitt nods as I approach the closed door to the ballroom. There is no denying how handsome he looks in a black suit. It’s perfectly tailored to his body, contrasting against the blond hair and golden crown atop his head.
“You look lovely,” he says evenly.
I smile, trying to warm this frigid indifference between us. “Thank you, Kitt. You look very handsome.”
He nods his thanks before offering me a stiff arm. I accept it, feeling more than a little awkward as I do. Kitt doesn’t waste a moment before tilting his chin toward the Imperials beside us. Understanding his silent request, they begin to open the massive doors.
We wait, loosely joined at the elbows.
The king looks down at our linked arms then, examining the bare fingers that fan around the crook of his elbow. “I see your ring made it back to the correct hand.”
The doors groan on their hinges. My heartbeat quickens its pace.
I lift my free hand, flashing the diamond at him.
This is the hand Ilya needs this ring to be on. The finger Ordinaries need it to be on.
“Of course,” I say evenly. “After hiding it from the bandits, I must have slipped it onto the wrong finger in my delirious state.”
The slightest bite in my voice has him studying me curiously until the doors fall open.
“Ready?” he murmurs.
“Not in the slightest.”
And with that, we step out onto the balcony that overlooks the ballroom. Kitt guides me to the railing, our bodies close. A sea of people stand below us, all staring up expectantly. I haven’t seen this view since my entrance to the final Purging Trial’s ball. And I can’t say I’ve missed looking down on every cold expression.
“Good evening!” Kitt welcomes, his voice carrying across the long length of the room. It’s suddenly warmer when not directed at me. “Tonight we celebrate the success of Paedyn Gray’s first Trial. She has achieved what few dared to do, bringing Mareena Azer’s crown back to its rightful home. And if Paedyn continues to complete these Trials, she will soon be wearing that crown herself.”
I struggle to stop from startling at the servant who suddenly appears beside me. Hesitantly, I accept the flute of champagne he offers and watch as Kitt does the same.
“A toast,” the king declares, lifting the glass out toward the crowd. They respond with a raising of their own champagne. He seems to clear a cough from his throat before finishing, “To Paedyn Gray, and the completing of this first Trial.”
My murmured words are swallowed in the echoing crowd. But they are meant for no ears but my own. “To surviving long enough to see a united Ilya.” I lift the glass to my lips, swallowing the champagne in time with everyone else. The bubbles fizz their way down my throat, crisp and sweet.
Life resumes on the dance floor as we make our way down one of the emerald-padded staircases that lead to the marble below. Spirited music accompanies each of my steps, Kitt’s arm an anchor to keep me from taking a tumble down the stairs.
When my heels hit the floor, I’m surrounded by a swarm of bodies. Not for me, of course, but for the grinning king. Women of all ages flock to us, rambling about Plague knows what while batting their lashes at him. I’m quickly shoved from his side, left to sip my champagne alone while Kitt occupies his entourage.
Annoyance quickly crawls across my features to redden my cheeks. I’m not upset by the women attempting to woo my betrothed, only that they were bold enough to do it in front of me. With that thought in mind, I begin to push my way through the gaggle to claim what is mine—not out of jealousy, but as an act of power that I clearly need to establish.
I reach for Kitt, looping my arm through his. “Let’s dance. I want to dance.”
The women seem to deflate at my words, Kitt nearly as surprised as they are. “You do?”
I flash him a bright smile, as though it could mend the relationship I left in shambles. “We are engaged, yes? It seems only right that we dance for the court.”
Kitt contemplates this for a moment before deciding he doesn’t have much of a choice. In silent agreement, we stride toward the dance floor. I throw back the rest of my champagne and set the empty flute on a nearby servant’s tray, stomach warming from the alcohol. As I turn back to smile at the begrudging king I’ve dragged along, my gaze snags on a familiar shade of purple.
Kitt nearly slams into me with how abruptly I plant my feet.
An emotion more potent than rage begins to boil within me at the sight of that lilac hair. Kitt’s mouth is moving, but I don’t hear a word that falls from it. Instead, I’m standing at the edge of the dance floor, staring at Adena’s murderer.
It’s as though I’m back in the center of that Pit, cradling her broken body with my eyes locked on the culprit, just as they are now.
My feet are suddenly moving. I push through the clustered bodies and swaying couples, not caring that I’m striding through a dance. With each step, her features grow clearer. The long lilac hair that was tied in a strap for that final Trial in the Bowl. The brown eyes that had watched the branch plunge through Adena’s chest. The painted lips that curled into a smile as she guided it there with a single murderous thought.
And I am going to tear her apart for it.
I’ve nearly reached Blair by the time her gaze finally deigns to land on me. And I smile when it widens with an emotion that might just be fear.
I lunge, teeth bared, and arms outstretched—
Arms wrap around my waist, tugging me back from her.
I let out a cry of frustration as I fight against the familiar hold. Kai’s lips are at my ear before my feet have even met the floor. “Easy, Pae. You need to calm down.”
I claw at his arms, anger clouding my vision. It’s not until another figure blocks my view of Blair that I still. Lenny’s face hovers in front of me, free of its usual Imperial’s mask. Without the leather obscuring it, I can see the worry that clearly crinkles his brow. “Paedyn, you can’t touch her, all right?” His voice is part plea and part command. “This isn’t worth it. You’re going to be queen. Think of what would happen if you tried to kill the general’s daughter in front of your entire court?”
Kai’s arms slacken around my waist, leaving me panting up at Lenny. “It’s not worth it,” he says quietly. “Please, don’t make me stand between the two of you. Because I will.”
His words have me taking a staggering step back. I shake my head at him. He must see every bit of hurt and hatred on my face because his falls into an equally torn expression. And yet, he chooses to return to his spot at Blair’s side. Her brown gaze flicks to mine, face placid in a way that makes it difficult not to shatter the facade with my fist.
“Keep her out of my sight,” I order evenly. “Because you won’t be able to stop me, Lenny. You know that.”
I’m walking away before a reaction can form on their faces. I hear Kai’s long strides behind me, likely following to ensure I behave myself.
But that is the last thing I want to do tonight.
I grab a flute of champagne from a servant’s tray and gulp down the liquid in a matter of seconds. Then I exchange that empty glass for a full one and do the same. Warmth spills into my stomach, coating my body in an intoxicating fuzzy feeling.
That is all I want to feel tonight. Not anger. Not hurt. Not queenly. Just this contentment beginning to thrum through me.
“Do I even want to know what you’re planning?” Kai sighs from where he towers over me.
I give him a smile, noting the way it affects him. Then I shove my empty glass into his hand. “I’m planning on having fun.”
