“What was that you said about grabbing strangers?” he grumbled, flexing his hand then taking a sip of his drink.
Gray wine. The one Horace said made people spill their secrets. Did Nox realize what he was drinking?
“Who attacked you?” he asked. “Tell me everything.”
Glancing around, I kept my voice quiet as I answered. “Three Shifters. A snow leopard, a serpent, and a coward. The last one got away, but the first two are dead.” I paused, waiting for some sort of indignation that his people had been killed, but his features remained smooth. “They stopped our carriage in the middle of the night on our way to the palace. They killed our driver and tried to kill my uncle, but we got to them first.” My thoughts onceagain strayed to the cloaked man from last night, his dark eyes flashing at me when I blinked.
Nox took another drink of wine. “I’m sorry that happened. But I promise, I had nothing to do with it.”
“Why should I believe you? You’re the Drakorum challenger, aren’t you? How do I know you didn’t find out the Feywood challenger was in that carriage and send them to take out the competition?”
“Because I don’t care if I win this ridiculous tournament,” he spat out, enunciating each word with heated blue eyes. For a split second, his pupils seemed to elongate.
I stepped backward and blinked my shock away. He didn’t care about winning? That didn’t make any sense. “Then why are you evenhere?”
Sighing, he inclined his head to a shadowed alcove beyond the rest of the guests. After a moment of deliberation, my curiosity won out over self-preservation. I nodded and followed him.
“You don’t understand what it’s like where I come from,” he said in hushed tones. “In Drakorum…there’s no higher honor than being selected as the challenger. No more important purpose. And if you fail or reject what you’re told, their retribution is swift and without mercy.”
He must be an incredibly powerful Shifter if they chose him. I could understand the significance each province placed on their challengers—wealltook the Decemvirate seriously. But the haunted look in his eyes told me Drakorum was an entirely different breed altogether. One I should be thankful not to be involved in.
“I don’t wish to be here, but I have no other choice. My people”—he cleared his throat—“have ways to ensure my obedience. But believe me, I despise everything this Decemvirate stands for, and have no desire to play into their twisted obsession with power.”
My eyes shifted around us, shocked by his brashness. This man was toeing a dangerous line. “Why would you say any of this to me? I could report you for treason.”
“Yes, you could,” he said simply, bringing the flute to his lips again.
“And why are you drinking that?” I blurted. “Don’t you know what it does?”
“Doyou?” When I hesitated, he smirked. “Grimlock wine makes one incapable of lying. Very dangerous. I don’t recommend it,” he added as he drained the entire glass.
“Then why drink it?”
“Because, viper, the truth can be just as useful as a lie. Do you believe what I’ve told you? Do you believe I mean you and your family—or any other challenger—no harm?”
I ran my tongue along my teeth. Nox was a puzzle. Cocky and sly, yet genuine and open. My brain told me not to trust him, even with the supposed truth wine he’d ingested. We’d been conditioned to believe everyone was only looking out for themselves, and that the path to glory was paved by those you trampled beneath your feet.
But he seemed…different. Someone who had seen firsthand the ferocity and mercilessness this empire stoked and truly didn’t want a part in it.
Plus, the Grimlock. He wouldn’t have been able to say these things if they weren’t at least partially true.
I let out a breath, hoping I wouldn’t regret this.
“It’s Rose, not viper,” I finally said. “My name is Rose.”
At that, he chuckled. “Rose. How fitting. I certainly don’t want to be at the end of your thorns.” He tipped his empty flute to me. “What do you think of the rest?” he asked, motioning with his head to the chamber full of preening guests.
“I haven’t met many of them,” I answered, still keeping my distance. Searching the room, I spotted a tall, brown and gray haired figure laughing with a group of the emperor’s council by a table of drinks. “That’s Alaric Rinehart, the Tenebra challenger.”
Nox shot me a look of surprise. “I recognize that name. Didn’t he compete last time?” When I nodded, he let out a snort. “Well, that either bodes very well for us, or very poorly.” Using his glass,he pointed to the blonde woman who’d been leaning against the wall during Lark’s speech, the one who had asked about cheating. Arowyn, I thought Lark had called her.
“She’s the Strider,” Nox explained. “We arrived at the same time last night, and I saw her use her magic. Seems rather…prickly.”
As we watched Arowyn, she kicked from the wall and sauntered over to one of the finely-dressed ladies of the court, plucked a pastry from the woman’s outstretched plate and a bottle of wine from a servant’s tray, then crossed to the entrance doors and kicked them open with one foot before disappearing down the hall.
What an exit. I couldn’t help but be slightly impressed.
“Alright, so that’s Tenebra, Celestria, Drakorum, and Feywood,” I recounted, pointing to Nox and myself as I said the last two provinces. “I wonder which one is Iluze.”
