“Because you’re following me, and I hate you.” My words hold none of their usual bite. They ring as hollow as I feel.
I don’t know when I stopped hating Kaidren, but even now, while I’m seething and sad and overwhelmed, I don’t. Sure, he makes my blood boil—that stunt he pulled in his speech made me want to throttle him—and he has a talent for rankling me, but I can’t bring myself to hate him.
He’s still walking briskly after me. “You’re upset about something, and it’s not me. Was it your parents? I had a feeling when they left just after you during my speech.”
We reach the top of the stairs. “So, you came looking for me?”
“I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“Why?” I finally stop walking and throw up my hands. “Why do you even care?”
“Do you know your posture changes when you’re around them? Or even when you mention them. You’ve got this unparalleled, unshakable confidence. But when you’re with them, you wilt.” He takes another step toward me, and I take one back. “It’s a shame. I think you’re brilliant.”
Oddly enough, it’s not a lie. My forehead creases in confusion. I expect his manipulation. I have no idea how to deal with a Kaidren who’s honest. I feel we’ve started a new game, but I don’t know the rules. “That’s why you’re following me?”
“I see how your family treats you. They’re wasting you.”
I frown. “I’m not a tool collecting rust, or a jar of milk left to curdle. I can’t be wasted.”
“That’s not what I meant. Lucien can’t win this Tournament without you. You know him better than anyone, and you know I’m right. Butwewould make an unbeatable team. If we worked together for the final trial, we could help each other.”
I’m so startled, I almost laugh. “You mean so I can helpyouwin.”
“When I’m on the throne, I would make you my right hand, not my lackey.”
Much as Kaidren likes to pretend otherwise, he’s no better than Luc. He calls me brilliant and expects me to fawn. He tosses around compliments only when he wants something. He offers me a place beside his throne, when what I really want is to wrest it out from under him. He’s just as unimaginative as my brother and the rest of this mountain, thinking I’ll settle for favor when what I crave is power. “I’m not interested.”
He looks incredulous. “Lucien is going to lose. I don’t want to see you get dragged down with him. I’m offering you a trade.”
“Shame you don’t have anything I want.” I shove past him and open my chamber door.
“You’re being stubborn,” he says.
“It took you this long to realize that? Looks like beating you is going to be easier than I thought.” I give a mocking grin. “I look forward to watching you lose the third trial.”
I slam the door in his face.
CHAPTER THIRTY
ONE TRUE THING
The mountain air is at its most violent in the sky cart. No matter how many layers I wrap myself in, I can’t help the shivers that wrack my body.
The cart attendant watches me warily from the other side of the small wooden box we share. The journey from the top of the mountain to the base always feels long. Especially since cart attendants rarely speak to me. The trip itself is only a little more than an hour, but silence stretches longer than words.
When we reach our destination, the attendant opens the door, as he always does.
“Thank you, Tallus,” I say as I exit into the evening.
He looks at me in surprise—he doesn’t expect me to know his name. I leave before he can question it.
The cloak I wear to Ophera is thinner than what I’m used to, in order to draw less attention. My boots are cheaper as well, and my toes grow numb as I trudge through the dirty, gray-tinted snow piled in the streets, making my way to the childhood home of Kaidren Vale.
There are bars fitted over the windows and ratty curtains inside. I peer into each room until I find one that looks as if it belongs to Kaidren.
Well, used to. Like me, he traded in this shack at the base of the mountain for a manor at the top.
The bars over his window are steel. With a bit of magic, I heat them enough to soften and bend them out. I wedge between the bars and climb through.
