He stretched his neck from side to side. Though he felt well rested, that slippery coil of dread had yet to leave his body. The second trial would soon be upon them, but at least he had the morning’s hours to contemplate and write, to center himself and his thoughts—
“Your majesty, the contestants have gathered downstairs and the trial shall begin shortly. Are you ready?”
Arris whirled around and stared in absolute horror at his frog-faced valet.
“What?”
There had been no time. None at all. No time to bathe, let alone carefully select his attire. And what had his valet meant about the contestants gathering downstairs? Did that mean they were all assembled in Rathe Castle?
Out of choices, Arris had no option but to leave his chambers wearing his dressing gown. The best that could be said of the situation was that at least his clothes were comfortable. Oh, he hated this. The morning was in shambles. And on top of that he had skipped his daily diary entry, and he had been so consistent about it—
“You look well-rested,” said Yvlle.
His sister was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairwell. As usual, she was attired in an all-black ensemble.
“You couldn’t have woken me up earlier?” asked Arris.
“And endure an entire morning of you moping about and slowly working yourself into a fit? I wished to spare myselfand our parents,” said Yvlle. “Now come on. Everyone is here.”
Arris stopped short. “Do you mean to say that I have to greet my future bride attired like this? I have principles, you know—”
“Everyone is here, but they do not know what ‘here’ is, my brother,” said Yvlle. “For today’s trial, you are meant to be invisible.”
The dining hall of Rathe Castle was not merely the most beautiful room, but also the most important. It was a place of shape-shifting and whispering, a place where deals were struck and power switched hands. The doors to the dining hall opened only on special occasions. Otherwise, it was kept locked shut, for of all the rooms in Rathe Castle, it was the one that was most suggestible, and such raw power was not to be dealt with lightly. When he was a child, Queen Yzara would allow Arris to remain in the dining hall only if he promised to be very quiet. The dining hall could only listen to one person at a time, and it did not listen for long. A single sentence misconstrued might be the difference between diplomacy and disaster. Before dinners with dignitaries or members of the Isle’s aristocracy, Queen Yzara would utter aloud her needs and wishes with the utmost precision.
“The ambassadors who shall visit are renowned to be a cold folk and I wish them to warm to us, but such warmth must be a conflagration too… for they should remember who possesses the real power to scorch,” she would tell thestones. Instantly a hearth would spring up in the middle of the room while the dining table broke apart, arranging itself into a circle around the flames that were both lovely and leering.
On another occasion, Yzara might say: “The duke’s late wife was quite dear to him and her favorite flowers were black daffodils… the duke is more likely to be in a calm mood if he is reminded of her. Let such a memory be a mere whisper, however, for we would not have our guest too lost in thought.”
Again, the dining hall would comply. Arris remembered how the grain of the table’s wood softened until it resembled the sparkling striations of a black daffodil’s petals. The glass cups took on a blousy shape, like an overturned flower. The room was redolent of rainwater upon roses and the sweetness of laundered sheets and baked bread. Arris remembered how the visiting duke had entered Rathe Castle, his shoulders up to his ears, his brow thunderous. And Arris remembered how he had left, his eyes shining and smile soft.
When Arris entered the dining hall, magic suffused the air. It crackled with raw potential. It seemed as if the very stones trembled in anticipation, ready to become whatever was demanded of them. That the room was now open to the suggestion of anyone aside from Queen Yzara was unheard-of. But then again, so was competing for the hand in marriage of the Isle’s heir.
Inside, the dining hall was dark. The walls themselves appeared shadowed and dimensionless, not yet sure whetherto expand into a massive chamber or constrict into a cozy alcove. A slight wrinkle to the air was the only sign Arris had that he and his sister were standing behind a pane of some kind. This was a relief, considering how close the contestants were. They were lined up not more than ten feet from where he stood, each one of them wearing a plain black dress. Arris tried to step forward and see where Demelza had gone, but he only succeeded in running into the enchanted pane.
“Ow!” he said.
Zoraya, who stood closest to him, turned and looked suspiciously in his direction before shaking her head.
The dining hall was entirely bare except for the table, where a feast sprawled across the surface. There were several carafes of wine—some dark as blood, others pale and silver—and tureens of fragrant soup. Roasted vegetables glazed in honey and studded with berries winked like gemstones. Golden bowls of spiced plums, roasted nuts and stewed cherries and immense platters of sliced bread spread thickly with butter gleamed. A haunch of boar and venison flanked opposite sides of the table, the meat already carved and glistening in invitation. Arris’s mouth watered. There had been no time to eat.
Queen Yzara appeared to step out of the shadows, and Arris heard the girls’ collective drawn breath once she appeared. Like the room itself, Yzara was dressed in shadows. In place of her crown, she wore a diadem of onyx braided with silver.
“As queen of this realm, you shall be expected not merelyto entertain the appetites of your guests but also to envision the needs of our kingdom,” said Yzara. “In this, you will find that the dining hall of Rathe Castle is a willing conspirator… but only if you understand how to discern what the situation truly demands. For this trial, you will be asked to make a single addition to this room. Only one.”
Yzara paused and Arris studied the faces of the prospective brides.
“To that end, I ask you to envision that you are hosting visiting dignitaries from a city whose occupants are famed for their appetite. Imagine they are homesick and that they have been traveling for many days to be in your company,” said Queen Yzara. She raised an eyebrow. “Tell me. What is missing?”
Everything, thought Arris. There were no lights. No chairs. No music. Clearly that was the point. It was a test to see what his future queen would consider most vital. But it was not a fair test. Whoever went last would have the hardest task.
“You shall be called in an order reflective of your current standing in this competition,” said Queen Yzara.
“Oh no,” said Arris.
Beside him, Yvlle’s mouth pinched in a grim line.
“Edmea, please start us off,” said Yzara.
