Tonight will go as planned. Kaidren will receive a threat from the Shadow Queen. His aunt harbors illegal magic. On its own, it’s not much, but last night served as confirmation: he loves Jules. Hopefully, it will be enough to coerce him to drop out of the Tournament. So long as he does as he’s told, I won’t have to mention the discovery that he murdered his father.
I’ll use it if I have to, but I’d rather save it for later. After all, Kaidren Vale has a long career ahead of him as an Honorate. I’ll need all the secrets I can find to keep him in line.
There’s no room for error, no space to get emotionally involved. Too much hinges on this dance going smoothly for me to risk it for a boy I was certain I hated just a few weeks ago.
Selva Sixmen ruined Eduma and had her thrown in prison. Arliss Vale ruined Kaidren’s mother and cost her a job and, ultimately, her life. Mathson Kyler ruined Aja and cost her everything. It’s the same story, over and over. Powerful men taking advantage and ruining lives because they can. They have no limits. Why should I?
I climbed the mountain, right to the crest. I’m so close to the top, I can taste it. If I fall, I fallallthe way down. If Kaidren falls, he stays exactly where he is.
I seal the lid back over the box and shove the gift under my bed, where I can’t see it. Where it can’t distract me from the only goal that matters.
The ballroom is beautiful tonight. The dance floor is illuminated by a crystal chandelier hanging from the high, domed ceiling. The usually clear shards have been replaced at intervals with sky blue and white. Candlelight casts wintry light around the ceiling, walls, and floor.
A maid was supposed to replace those crystal shards, but I did it myself. I painstakingly fiddled with the chandelier until it was perfect for my plans, yet beautiful enough for no one else to notice.
The ballroom floor is tiled with squares of dusty pink and banded tshira, polished to shine. Tall glass windows of pale blue quartz line the back wall, bringing in light from the beacons outside. The golden columns are tied with silk ribbons in large bows.
Everything is perfect, down to the last detail. Sef did my hair, and she outdid herself. My thick, coily curls have never been bigger. They’re displayed in a combination of tight braids, two-strand twists, and free hair. Two sections twisted in the front frame my face. Thin braids trail from my forehead to the crown of my head, where the rest of my hair is free and loose. And all throughout my curls are glittering crystal sparrow clips that match the tshira trinket on my bracelet. My dress is rich black velvet embroidered with gold along the bodice and inlaid with stars that wink within the folds of my skirt as I move. My gloves and mask are matching red lace.
Tonight, I feel beautiful. It’s a rarity for me, but despite that warm feeling of confidence, I hug the back wall, watching Luc dance.
We spent hours ahead of time going over the best ways to make a good impression. He’s naturally personable, but tonight, I need him to be more than nice if he’s to charm donors.
So far, it looks like it paid off. Luc holds himself with poise and dignity. We’re not a monarchy, but in his splendid golden robes, he looks the part of a king.
I should feel proud. Instead, I resent it and him.
I wish Sef were here. She would stand in the back and gossip with me. Give me her opinions on everyone’s outfits, crack jokes, and make me feel less lonely. But she’s completing a more important task right now, involving an illicit magical object and a vial of poison.
Footsteps plod in my direction as Kaidren approaches. “Remira.” He speaks my name softly, as though awed.
He wears dove gray. A stunning shade against the warm tones of his skin. The small black mask around his eyes does nothing to hide who he is. Or disguise the way his gaze shamelessly rakes me up and down. His lips stretch into a smile that shows off all his teeth. Except it doesn’t look like his usual campaign smile. There’s a brightness to his eyes and an awkwardness to the slant of his mouth that makes this one feel genuine.
“You’re exquisite,” he says.
I fight a shudder. There’s that word again. He said it to me before, in the library after the first trial. There’s something different in the way he says it now. His tone is heavier, more reverent. He holds the word in his mouth, savoring it, before releasing it in a near whisper, for my ears only.
“Thank you.” I stop myself before I say anything more and reveal how breathless I am from that single compliment.
“Did you get my present?”
“I did.” I no longer sound breathy, but my throat is dryfrom the way he stares at me, and my words sound more like a croak.
“And?” he presses.
I frown. “And what?”
Kaidren grins and extends a hand toward me. “Dance with me?”
I study his hand for longer than I should. We’ve been at each other’s throats for weeks. I’m planning on blackmailing him later this very night. I shouldn’twantto dance with him.
But I do.
I thought I despised the way his unpredictability has rattled my world; I thought I hated his ambition and the tricks he plays to get what he wants.
As it turns out, Ilikehis games. I like taunting and plotting and tossing barbs back and forth until one of us slips. I like knowing that beneath his cool exterior lies a vicious, ruthless creature. I’ve craved power my whole life. Kaidren aims to strip me of mine and take it for himself. For some reason, that struggle—his thirst for the one thing I want above all else—is more alluring than pretty smiles and sweet words.
“I don’t think I like sweet at all.”
