Arris was careful to avoid his sister’s one-eyed glare. Ever since Demelza had revealed herself at the orangery, Arris had felt the burden of her secret. Veritas swans had long since passed from history to legend… but even the legends spoke of their value. The bones of a veritas swan could be fused into a chair, the contact of which would force whoever sat upon it to reveal the truth. Add to that her story that she was running from her father, a wizard. There was only one person whom she could mean… Prava the Sly.
Many years ago Prava had been the architect of Rathe Castle and even an advisor to one of Arris’s great-great-grandfathers, but Prava was a bloodthirsty sorcerer. His appetite for ambition proved insatiable and so he was given the whole of the Silent Lakes district in exchange for staying far away from Rathe Castle. It had been a trick, however. Once there, one of Arris’s ancestors had managed to bind Prava to the Silent Lakes so that he could never take his magic elsewhere and use it against the Crown.
But it would seem that Prava’s ambitions had flourished anyway.
Arris could have told his parents the truth of Demelza’s origins, but he hesitated. His parents were good people, but they were even better rulers… and Demelza could prove dangerously useful to them. Granted, Demelza was going to be beyond useful to him in the course of this tournament, but at least that was on her own terms. However, there was another reason nestled at the heart of himself.
Demelza was the first person who had ever asked Arris for his protection. Perhaps she was the first person to imaginethat he could even give such a thing. All the power of the Isle ran through his veins, but Arris was considered, at best, an instrument and, at worst, an impediment. Demelza saw him as something different though, and more than anything Arris wanted her to be right. Let him be different than others imagined. Let the ending of his story surprise even him.
When Arris held up his hand, the cave floor stopped trying to drag Demelza under the stage. She looked up at him, her eyes wild and accusing. “It’s not my fault you didn’t prepare for the trial!” Arris wanted to shout, but he stopped himself.
“The girl has professed to having no talent. What is the meaning of this, my son?” demanded Queen Yzara.
Arris cleared his throat. “Talent is a privilege, but some do not have the luxury of the time to hone such skill. Some are too busy working their family’s fields, or eking out a living.”
He glanced into the antechamber holding the contestants who had already demonstrated their talents. A few of them nodded appreciatively. Most looked deeply annoyed.
“I admire this contestant’s honesty,” said Arris. “For that reason, I grant her this one and only exception that she might remain.”
Arris could feel his sister’s gaze boring into him. She was trying to suss out his secrets. Arris did his best not to look at her.
“Talent, after all, can only take one so far!” he said. “After that, determination is the truer steed.”
What in Wrate’s name was he saying? Steed? Whatsteed? How did a horse wander into his metaphors? Arris was beginning to panic.
“You may be wondering what any of that has to do with horses… um, if you’re looking for a good ride, wait—”
“Well-reasoned, my son!” said his mother, raising a hand. She was very clearly done entertaining this conversation, which was good, because Arris knew he needed to be stopped. “The contestant with no talent may remain. For now.”
Immediately, Demelza was released. She fell to the ground, gasping, before she righted herself and scrambled into the adjoining antechamber.
Queen Yzara stood. “My congratulations to those of you who are still remaining with us now that the talent portion of this trial has concluded. We have a few moments before dinner service, and I have a small surprise for you.” Yzara’s smile turned sly and knowing. “May what follows be a time of reflection for all of us.”
The Ozorald Cave was very dear to Queen Yzara and King Eustis, for it was where they had shared their first dance and, later, their first kiss. The vaulted ceiling was beset with thousands of ozoralds so that if one squinted, it would seem as if it were dazzling sunlit foliage instead of gemstones and glowing roots above them. The floor was polished onyx, flecked with bits of silver. His mother had once told him that of all the things that made her realize she loved his father, it was the floor of the Ozorald Cave. She had told himin the early days of their marriage that he could not avoid his fate and that the stars themselves had marked him for death. Eustis had not minded. He told her that for her love, he would crush the very stars beneath their feet.
“That was how it looked when I danced with him that first time,” Yzara said. “As if we were smashing the stars to dust simply by choosing to love one another.”
When Arris entered the Ozorald Cave, he had been expecting lively music and a bevy of floating drinks, but instead he found a seemingly endless row of mirrors. Each one was at least twenty feet tall and each frame was simple, hammered gold. There was something odd about the mirrors’ silver. It looked frosted… and Arris could have sworn something darted beneath its surface.
The contestants, who had just entered by way of a nearby arch, looked as confused as Arris felt. Perhaps they had been expecting a panel of judges or two doors… one that would lead them to the next phase of the tournament and another that would cast them out of Rathe Castle. Instead, the room was austere. Eerie.
“In marriage, you will not always love one another,” said Queen Yzara. “That is normal. It is a sign of growth. But, in these turbulent phases, there is one way to move forward and it requires immense work. You must decide to see the person you have chosen for all that they are. Not just the bad, which rises to the top of your thoughts in times of distress, but the good too. The odd, the whimsical, the curious. And so I invite you to wander through these version of yourselves and, forgive me, reflect upon it.”
His mother smiled as she gestured the remaining fifty or so contestants to take to the onyx floor.
“You know, I thought eliminating some contestants would be more intriguing,” said Yvlle. “I wanted to see two girls get into a screaming match and then challenge each other to a duel. Something about them merely being sucked into the ground stole all the fun out of it.”
“Fighting to the death for the sake of my hand?” asked Arris. “Sister, I’m honored to know that you believe I can inspire such passion.”
“Please do not ruin my fantasies with your fatuousness,” said Yvlle.
“Your fantasies have no place in my bridal tournament,” said Arris. “My future wife is somewhere in that crowd so I would prefer you refrain from ogling any of them.”
“Half of them wish me to do far more than ogle, brother,” said Yvlle, smirking.
Arris hated when she smirked. As twins, it only made sense that they should be able to do the same things. But for some reason Yvlle was capable of whistling and smirking, and Arris could do neither. When he tried to whistle, he ended up spitting. And when he attempted to smirk, he looked as if he had been hexed.
“Go,” said Queen Yzara, pushing them onto the dance floor. “Go speak to people and open yourselves to wonder.”
