Each day, she breaks my nose. Or a rib. Or a finger. Sometimes all three. Once she dislocates my shoulder, and it’s the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced, and I spend three minutes sobbing into the arena dirt that I’m going to kill her.
She never stops until the king calls a halt to her abuse and heals whatever she’s done.
I’m not a fan of this pattern.
At least I don’t have to go to bed with broken bones or torn ligaments. The king is swift to heal the damages she causes.
But . . . ?sometimes I don’t tell him about all of it. Sometimes I ignore a bruise or an ache or a twist in my gut, and I lie in bed at night and wonder if the magic in my mother’s pendant still works.
It always does. It’s slightly addictive, having this secret that no one knows, this power that undoes the damage in the arena. It’s a little flicker in my gut that tells me I can endure it again and again. Like a gift from my mother. Is this something she did, too? Endured hard training to achieve her rank, secretly healing her injuries so she could come back sharper and stronger? The idea that my mother and I might have a shared bond through this secret magic always lights me with a tiny glow.
I’veneededthe glow, because for days, I’ve wondered if Queen Lia Mara was secretly encouraging her sister’s abusive methods. I worried that she harbored all the same doubts that Verin voices every time she’s slamming me into the dirt. It made for a few uncomfortable encounters where I kept my eyes down and did my best to keep Sinna engaged with her dolls or her games.
But then I’ll remember what the king said.If I thought you were a risk to the princess, you wouldn’t be here.
Surely the queen is the same. Why would they let me care for Sinna just to torment me about it?
I’m even more reassured when the queen touches a hand to my cheek one morning. “Callyn, you’ve looked so troubled these past few days. I must apologize that I’ve been so . . . ?distracted. Am I asking too much of you? You must tell me if Sinna isn’t allowing you to get enough rest.”
Clearly Verin hasn’t told her what she’s doing. It leaves me feeling like this is all part of a test. Like Verin is waiting for me to complain.
So I don’t.
After a week, I finally earn a reprieve. I show up to a nearly deserted arena to learn that Verin has been called away by other duties. As the last of the soldiers clear out for the dinner hour, I stand in the dust and deliberate what to do. A part of me wants to go find some dinner for myself—but I worry that eventhisis a test, like someone would report to her that I’m lacking in dedication.
Though honestly, maybe I am. There’s a part of me that wants to abandon this all entirely, to leave Nora to the funshe’shaving. But then I’ll think of the way Verin says things like,Your mother would be so disappointed, and I can’t quite bring myself to quit.
So in Verin’s absence, I practice what Ihavelearned: simple blocks and thrusts and punches that don’t really seem to make any difference when Verin is pummeling me. The arena is so quiet, and I cast a glance at the fields. A few lingering soldiers are out there, and I wonder if the king is among them—and what he’d think of me working in here alone. Eventually, the soldiers move off before I can recognize any of them.
Until this moment, I didn’t consider that if Queen Lia Mara doesn’t know what Verin is doing, then thekingmust not have mentioned it either.
But . . . ?why? I try to work that through as I begin the endurance drills that Jacob makes the recruits do every morning. Now that my thoughts have a thread to follow, they want to chase it.
The more I think about it, the more I’m beginning to wonder if the king is mentioning much of anything to the queen at all.
That morning Nora and I saw Lord Alek in the hallway, the king was already awake and dressed, and I assumed that meant he’d been handling things overnight. But now that I’m training with the recruits in the morning, I see him at dawn often—never coming from the chambers he shares with the queen. Breakfast is laid out each morning, but I have yet to see them eat together. When I first arrived, I assumed thatwas due to the king’s early duties on the training fields, but now I wonder if there’s something else.
I consider the way the queen touched my cheek, when she said I looked tired.
I must apologize that I’ve been so . . . ?distracted.
In thinking back,she’sthe one who looks tired. Or maybe sad.
But of course I’m not in a position to ask about her personal affairs.
I do know she was expecting a baby before she was kidnapped by the Truthbringers—but now she’s not. An official statement declared that the queen lost the baby during the attack, and I’ve heard enough whispered outrage in the palace halls to know it’s believed. The Truth-bringers were supposed to target the king and his magic, and to think that they harmed the queen and caused a miscarriage is a bit unthinkable.
But I protected the queen when she was held captive in my barn. I remember her voice when she said,There is no baby anymore.
It might be the story they’ve given the people, but I don’t think she lost the baby in the attack. She was dirty and bruised and anxious, but . . . ?it didn’t feel like something that had just happened. The way she said it was so final. Like something she’d accepted. It didn’t feel . . .immediate.
As much as I hate Alek, there’s one thing he said that keeps sticking in my brain, rolling around with my thoughts about the queen’s loss.
There are rumors that the king can’t control his magic. That he’s injured the queen somehow, but they’re hiding it.
I wish I could go back to that night and ask him the right questions.
I’m soaked in sweat now, and I’ve lost track of my laps around the arena. No one is left on the fields outside, and the torches hung from the wall are beginning to dim. I’m surprised to find that I enjoyed the physical activity. If anything, it helped shake the lingering worries outof my head. If this was a test, I’m not sure I care anymore. I’ll finish this round and go find Nora.
