My foot taps a steady beat against the marble floor.
Members of the court mill about the throne room, having used the last three hours as an excuse to drink and sloppily trade gossip among themselves. The countdown to midnight has become nothing more than an exclusive party of Elites.
Forgotten goblets of wine litter every flat surface, while others can be found sloshing in the hands of noble men and women. Scanning the room and what obvious boredom fills it, I take a sip of my own wine, savoring the biting sweetness on the back of my tongue. I’ve been leaning against a towering pillar for more than an hour now, content to stay tucked within the chaos.
After my visit with Mother, I reluctantly joined the court to restlessly await Paedyn’s arrival. My wandering gaze continually returns to the large doors at the opposite end of the throne room in the hopes she will stride through them. Because the alternative would mean that something happened to her, and I simply refuse to entertain that spiraling thought.
I will her to walk through those doors. If not for this kingdom, then for me. I need her to come back to me. She is willingly my weakness, and yet, nothing has ever made me stronger. And I fear what I will become if—
“You’ve been staring at the doors since you got here.”
I turn to face a grinning Jax, his hands shoved into the pockets of too-short pants. “Not the whole time,” I state smoothly. “I’ve managed to catch you sneaking sips of wine from Andy’s glass.”
His grin shifts, suddenly sheepish. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I cross fidgeting arms over my chest, chuckling. “Really? Why don’t you go ahead and walk in a straight line for me, then?”
The mere question has him swaying on his feet. “Because… maybe I don’t want to.” He leans against the pillar in a comical attempt at nonchalance.
“At least one of us is having a good time.” I sigh out the words, my gaze straying back to the doors.
“I could finish that for you,” Jax says, pointing to the cup in my hand. “I mean, if you’re not going to…”
I tilt my head against the cool marble. “What the hell,” I mumble, handing the goblet to him. “It’s not doing me any good—” He’s tipped his head back, greedily gulping the wine despite a ribbon of it dribbling down his chin to stain the dark skin beneath.
“Easy, J!” It’s a struggle not to laugh as I tug the cup from his sticky hands. “I better not have to carry you out of here tonight.”
He gives me a toothy grin. “Hey, I’ve helped Kitt ca—” A hiccup interrupts the word. “… carry you from a party more than once.”
I can’t exactly argue on behalf of nights I don’t remember. So, instead, I settle with a simple, “If her life weren’t at stake right now, I guarantee I’d be much more fun tonight.”
His confused look is only exaggerated by the alcohol that’s loosening his features. “But why are you so worried about Paedyn? Isn’t that Kitt’s job? They’re engaged, after all.”
I open my mouth before promptly shutting it.
My gaze travels across the room, skipping between the several circles of gossiping court members. I wonder how many of them whisper the same question. Why does the future Enforcer worry for his brother’s betrothed? Is it simply due to loyalty and protection over the king? Or perhaps something far more scandalous?
I suppose the truth leans more toward the latter, but reducing my feelings for Paedyn to something as juvenile as a scandal is absurdity. Only, it does not matter that every beat of my heart belongs to her. Because she does not belong to me.
Turning my attention back toward an awaiting Jax, I open my mouth to spew an answer he likely won’t remember in the morning.
That is when the doors swing open.
Everything fades away, forgotten in her presence.
The future queen of Ilya strides into the throne room, and every Elite falls silent. She is covered in dirt, streaked with blood. It freckles her face in a gruesome addition to the twenty-eight ones I know stretch across the bridge of her nose. Large tears in her clothing reveal jagged cuts beneath, softened only by the mud accompanying them.
My eyes trail down the length of her, knowing just how much that blood must be affecting her. It’s coating her temple, her shoulder, her hands…
Her hands.
There, gripped between scarlet-stained fingers, hangs a crown.
The rest of the court seems to recognize her achievement at the same moment, resulting in a collective gasp that ripples across the room. I push off the pillar, eyes wide as I study the lost relic from afar. A crack crawls up one of the sides where a splotch of blood stains the large gem there. The rest of it remains covered in mud, just like the woman holding it.
Paedyn’s piercing gaze travels over the crowd as she watches them take her in. No one dares speak, dares move beneath her commanding stare. But when that blood-splattered face turns in my direction, I nearly smile. This formidability is not unfamiliar to me. I’ve seen it within her since the moment she saved my life.
Her eyes meet mine, and it feels like relief.
She reflects my sentiment with a slight softening of her expression. But it doesn’t last long. It can’t—not with this audience.
So I let her go. Let her pretend. Let her morph back into the queen she will become.
All it takes is a single slow nod of my head.
She understands—and meets the king’s gaze with a newfound fortitude.
My eyes flick to the dais, seeing something akin to awe settle on Kitt’s features, and I can only assume that my expression looks the same. She takes another step into the throne room, pushing aside her pain for the portrayal of what is far more potent—power.
Every wound is on display. She wears them proudly, allowing each pair of eyes to sweep over her. Blood drips from the gash at her temple, staining her hair and spilling a trail of crimson into her eye. With strides never slowing and face unflinching, she wipes at the blood with the back of an already stained hand.
I push slowly through the crowd, my gaze unable to stray from such eminence. But watching isn’t nearly enough. I could fall to my knees, beg to be the only one worthy of witnessing her.
Clothes torn and body bloody, she slows before the dais. I shift on my feet, knowing the weight of those piercing eyes now pinned on my brother. Kitt clears his throat, blinking at the scene before him. When he finally finds his voice, it’s to declare, “Ladies and gentlemen of the court, it seems Paedyn Gray has successfully completed her first Trial.”
And with that, Paedyn’s lips lift. She raises the crown then, matching its bloody and mud-streaked appearance. I smile before she’s even done it. Wide enough to show those damn dimples she loves to hate.
Yes, I smile when she pushes the crown onto her head.
It sits atop her blood-streaked hair, drawing gasps from the gaping court. My breath catches as she stands before the king, every bit his queen-to-be.
With a slight nod to Kitt, she turns slowly toward the court. Her sudden smile catches even me by surprise, the flash of her teeth white against that dirt-streaked face framing it. She inclines her head then, dipping it toward each side of the throne room. The movement is nearly taunting, as if daring any Elite to try to tear the crown from her head. Her gaze is a challenge that travels around the room. But with one final dip of her head, she turns back to Kitt.
He stands, accepting her silent invitation. Stepping from the dais, he offers Paedyn an arm she readily takes. I feel suddenly hollowed out as the happy couple strides down the aisle.
I’m stunned by the sinking bite of bitterness. This shock of envy is quickly swallowed by my resolve, focused only on being rid of this crowd. Seeing her. I push through the shifting bodies, unburdened by the need to be polite.
Murmurs grow into a gentle roar even before the royal couple steps from the throne room. It’s difficult to shove against the shocked sea of people now milling mindlessly about. But I’m nearly at the door now and—
A hand tugs at my arm.
I turn to find Andy looking alarmingly serious. “Don’t steal her away from him when they finally get a moment together.”
Unspoken words hang in the air between us. The corner of my mouth twitches. “I don’t need to steal her away.”
“No,” she says smoothly. “You just kick down her door when she isn’t answering you.”
My voice is low. “Don’t start, Andy.”
She shakes her head at me, saddened by what she sees. “They’re engaged, Kai. You can’t have her.”
“Yes, and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to accept that fact.”
I turn away and push through the doors.
They are standing in the hallway, bodies close and voices hushed.
Her eyes meet mine over Kitt’s shoulder.
I quicken my pace. Smother my jealousy. And open my damn mouth.
