“You’re a brave man, Horace,” I said quietly.
He looked at me out of the corner of his eye and grunted.
I huffed out a laugh. Some things never changed.
We reached the dining hall, which was smaller than I’d anticipated. More intimate. A long table stood in the middle, tall candles and strands of greenery as the centerpieces. The low ceiling was painted a light cream with ornamental gold candelabras hanging from it, casting the space in a warm haze. The walls were dark blue and adorned with large landscape paintings—a beautiful cliffside, a snow-capped mountain range, a sunset over a beach. It was all very…relaxing. Cozy.
I was instantly suspicious.
A servant greeted us at the entrance and showed me to my seat, while Horace took his place with his fellow guards at the walls. I glanced down the rectangular table to find each of the challengers’ names written in swirling black ink. Mine was the very last seat on the left side, while what I assumed was Gayl’s seat of honor was at the opposite head. Peering at the name next to mine, I rolled my eyes.
Alaric Rinehart.
“Not my biggest fan, I take it?” Alaric asked from behind, then took his seat beside me.
I didn’t respond. I wouldn’t let these people rile me up tonight. I’d chosen my outfit and appearance carefully; the tight, thigh-length black dress with long sleeves extending to my wrists, little silver loops hooking around my middle fingers that glistened when I silently reached for my wine glass. The black liner beneath my eyelids, sharp enough to wound. The dark red lips that spoke of sin and blood and roses.
Iwas in control. I’d had enough of letting others think they could say whatever they wanted or walk over me and leave me in their tracks. I may be an Alchemist, one of the least powerful provinces, but I wanted them to know I didn’t belongbeneathanyone.
Nox strode in soon after and, to my relief, sat right across from me. He took one look at my steely expression and smirked.
As everyone else filtered in, I noted the seating arrangement. Callista and Callum were next to Alaric on our side of the table. There had been an obvious tactic to the placement—the four people who held such animosity toward one another, forced in tight quarters. Callista’s arm was still in a sling from whatever had happened between her and Callum in the first trial, and while she laughed and spoke cheerfully with Lark and the two architects across from her, I saw the way her eyes narrowed when the Illusionist sat down. The way her hand inched ever so slightly toward her dinner knife, a small beam of light twirling between her fingers.
I knew putting Alaric and me next to each other wasn’t a coincidence, either. I caught Lark’s eye at the opposite end of the table and raised an eyebrow, tipping my head subtly in Alaric’s direction. She gave me a sheepish grin and a shrug. What was more entertaining than sticking a group of hot-headed challengers in a single room with a bunch of forks and knives at our disposal?
Not that we needed sharp objects to hurt one another.
Next to Nox sat Arowyn, who immediately plopped down in her seat, grabbed the bottle of wine from the servant pouring the glasses, and propped her boots up on top of the table.
I shared a look with Nox. Fates, I wanted to be her.
“No hard feelings there, Emberfell?” I heard Alaric say, and turned to see him holding out a hand to Callista.
Tawny skin crinkled at her eyes as she smiled sweetly. “Of course not, Alaric. We all know how these trials go.” She took his outstretched hand, and I could’ve sworn a bolt of static like lightning zipped through the air. Alaric grimaced and flinched when she pulled away.
“Hmm,” I said, taking a sip of wine. “I take it I’m not the only one you graced with your presence in the trial, Alaric?”
“Our paths may have crossed on my way out of the central sector. She looked a little too confident,and I couldn’t have that, now could I?” he said, tapping his nose and offering a light chuckle. “But I didn’t harm the girl. She must have run into the Iluze boy later. Ah, Nox!” Alaric raised his hand across the table in greeting. “Haven’t seen you around the palace much. Been off licking your wounds?” He laughed at his own joke, and I rolled my eyes.
“I’ve never been better, Rinehart,” Nox said smoothly as he tipped his glass.
“You know, I don’t think I caught you during the trial at all. Tell me, what is your form, anyway?” Alaric asked.
I raised my eyebrows over my wine glass. I’d posed the same question days ago, but still, it was a very intrusive thing to ask someone. Iwascurious, though. The fact that he hadn’t revealed his Shifter form yet made him an enormous threat.
“Probably some sort of rodent,” Arowyn said, shooting Nox a lazy smile from her slumped position. “Like a squirrel. Or a naked mole-rat.”
I coughed. The sweet wine burned as I choked it down.
“Something like that.” Nox’s eyes flashed in amusement. “If you want to see me naked, Strider, you only have to ask.”
“Pass. You’re not my type.”
“Darling, I’meveryone’stype.”
Arowyn smirked. “Trust me.” Taking a swig of the bottle, she planted her feet on the ground and looked up at the head of the table. “Where’s our gracious host, anyway?”
On cue, the entrance doors to the dining hall opened once more, and in strode Emperor Gayl. Lark immediately rose to her feet, and the rest of us followed suit. He wore no cloak this time, opting for a coattail dinner jacket of such a dark green that it appeared black. His gloved hands rested at his sides as he swiftly and silently paced to his seat, flanked by the same short man I’d seen with him the evening I got caught. Daye, I think he was called.
