Chapter 25
Braxton
Where would Zephron be? My eyes scan the podium, the space behind it, but he is nowhere to be seen. It isn’t like I look forward to seeing him, but something feels kind of off. I am not sure what it is and why I am worrying about my brother at once. I grip the rails off the chair firmly. On my other side, Eliane isn’t acting like herself as well. She taps her foot uncontrollably, not giving me any hint of her strange behavior. I haven’t always been nice to her, and I still am not, but I did have the feeling like we were growing towards each other. But when I stepped closer, she acted hesitant, like I would hurt her. If she had all her power, she would be able to kill me with one flick of her fingers, but she hasn’t unlocked that side of magic—yet. Or maybe she did? I have no idea what happened yesterday, but I knew after she collapsed I wouldn’t be the only one who needed to give their body rest. She looks stunning today, naturally. Even with her sleepy eyes she looks insufferable. With her blond curls laying on her shoulders and that cleavage I am glad my black pants don’t show much.
My throat swells up as the king takes his time. I don’t really hear what he is saying. Normally, Zephron is on stage too, but he doesn’t seem to come now. Maybe he is in the dungeons, like I used to be? Maybe he finally has done something that the king doesn’t like? Something ugly fills my stomach. We might not have been anything like brothers to each other, but I know it is not a fair trade. I caught all the hits as kids, whether I deserved it or not. He should have been my big brother, but he acted like the golden boy to stay on our father’s good side. I am not there to be a disappointed or weakest link with the so-called weakest signet this time. So I am pretty sure he is getting the full blow. He can become king if he wants, it wasn’t a title that was predestined for me anyway. Since Mom left, the roles were made.
I was the scapegoat who would never meet the king’s expectations, and he was their heir. Even while trying so hard, he would never like me. Not the way he liked Zephron. And I wouldn’t want my brother to undergo the things I have.
If I win this thing I am out of here. I will make the king drown in guilt and disappointment, while he should have been proud of me.
Should have given me the title and role I deserved. Should have been proud of the little boy who stayed on track while his mom jumped out of his life within a split second.
I get shaken out of my thoughts, the first candidate being asked on stage. Aiden walks up, wearing a sage green suit that makes his hair look more reddish than it originally is. He sits down next to the king. The king has his eyes pointed at him, sharpened. He smiles, but his body language expresses hate. It might not be visible to everyone else, but all I see is a pathetic hatred man. The only reason he looks the way he does is because of the servants that help him dress, style him and shave his beard once in a while. The king speaks up again.
“Aiden, can you show us who you were robbing off those most important and meaningful things in life?” His voice is soft and some would think it sounds sweet. He is provoking. Making him look innocent while he is the one who made these trials. Aiden cocks his head up as he reaches in his chest pocket, showing the audience his name.
Caleb.
I look to my left. Two seats away, Caleb is sitting swallowing hard, but his face remains intact. Aiden makes eye contact with him and I see Caleb giving him a small nod. They don’t have much hostility towards each other, but that won’t last long. Aiden gives the guard a small nod and they walk on the stage. They hold a roll and hand it over to the king. The king rolls it open, reading what is written on it. He hands it over to Aiden, giving him a small nod. Aiden stands up, showing everyone what he got, the crowd going quiet as he does so.
“This is Caleb’s motivation letter,” he starts, his chest forward, a frown between his brows. “To one of the best schools in Ilanos. Apparently, he wants to leave his parents and sister, to become some technical nerd. Well, not some technical nerd as he wrote himself. And I quote, ‘The only motivation I can give towards you recurring to my application to one of the best schools of the continent is that I want to achieve the same goals as you. Learn to manipulate iron and use it as a weapon for the upcoming wars and trials that the king has planned for us,’” he says and it almost looks like he regrets the words as soon as they left his mouth. Caleb taps his fingers, but that is the only sign of tension I can find on him. This meeting isn’t just a chance to show off what you stole. It’s the moment to prove your character. To show everyone your fierceness and strength. To make it clear you’re all in fighting to win votes.
And so that’s what Aiden does. He breaks eye contact with Caleb and the paper bursts into flames. A few gasps come from the audience.
Within a few seconds, the paper is no more than a lump of ash on the floor. Caleb has his jaw tensed and I see it ticking. The crowd claps and cheers, Aiden bows his head in thank you and walks off. He doesn’t look really happy with himself, but still, the game is on.
The second one to walk up is Aaliyah who apparently has Ethan. She shocks the crowd with what she has found. On the stage doesn’t appear something, but someone. A familiar blonde-haired girl with blue eyes twists and turns as two guards hold her tightly, a bandage pressed in her mouth, her ears watering from all the screaming and pulling. The same girl as in the preliminary rounds.
“Nerena!” Ethan shouts. He jumps up from his chair, but guards push him back in. Her face is bruised and the stuffing is still pressing her mouth closed, not allowing her to talk. Aaliyah has a grin from ear to ear as she talks proudly about her new toy. She strolls off and before Ethan can come into action, Nerena is gone. A sob erupts from his throat as she is being dragged away, but I watch his eyes change. Change into something I could only describe as rage. He must feel my gaze because he turns towards me and the corners of his mouth twitches into an evil smirk. I think it is fair to say I know who has got my name. My gaze goes forward as Kailey is being called up. She is wearing dark blue and has those small braids ruffled and mixed between her soft curls. She has a pretty face with those freckles and tanned skin tone, but she is all leader and strong. She shows Aiden’s name and holds nothing more than the secret recipes of him and his parents’ bakery. She read one out loud and I notice some people taking notes.
Bastards.
She walks off grinning widely, showing off her bravery, knowing that she ruined the future of that bakery, but not letting it hurt her. Caleb goes next. He sits down and chats with the crowd. He looks funny, smart and friendly. That is how he wants to look, but I can’t agree with his act more. When the king asks him to show the name, he speaks the words out instead of showing the paper.
Aaliyah.
Good, perfect honestly.
He meets my gaze, and I smirk. I shake my head and my hair dances in front of my eyes. He smirks back as he invites the guards up with a small nod. A piece of clothing appears on the stage. The king unfolds it, and it looks like a male sweater. I glare at Aaliyah. She makes amends to move up, but two guards press her down. It is the first time I see the girl vulnerable.
“What is it?” the king asks, his mean voice clear that the cashmere sweater is nothing of value. Caleb smiles widely, his white teeth shine whiter in contrast with his dark skin.
“Aaliyah, would you like to tell them, or should I?”
She bites back her tears and locks her jaw, making clear she won’t tell them. Caleb stands up, his chest forward. “Well, she won’t tell you all I assume. It is her dad’s. The dad that has left her, her mom and brother alone, to suffer in the fields of Etakia. She holds on to this thing I have learned from her brother. I don’t think I have to explain much more. It is pretty clear she still cares.” He walks off stage, throwing the shirt towards Aaliyah. He is hard, but human. He cares and it shows.
“Braxton, you’re up.”
Eliane elbows me, shaking me out of my observations.
Shit. I stand up, lifting myself out of the chair. Act like a royal, I tell myself. I walk up and don’t meet the king with his gaze. Speaking in front of people has never been my hobby. They justlike to see us suffer and fight. The tension rises after this trial and it makes us more bloodthirsty. It is what they want. As I turn to the audience, holding my head high, everyone goes quiet. I don’t sit down next to the king, but hold my chest forwards as I look at him.
“Well, what do you have for us?” the king asks, tapping his fingers impatiently on his throne. His green eyes are bright as poison and his words are sharp as knives.
No name.
No kid or son.
