My gaze drifts to the painting above the fireplace, my mother’s smiling face making my heart ache. The resemblance is striking. No wonder he finds it hard to look at me. “I’ve been thinking, Father. You want me to do something with my life so badly—well, I believe I deserve to fight in this competition alongside the men for my hand, for my honor.”
A thunderous laugh booms from his throat as he tips his head back. “Delusional, just like your mother. You are to be seen as a princess, not heard, and especially never to fight. You’ll dono such thing.” He returns to his papers. “Now, please leave. I am expecting someone shortly for an important meeting.” He swipes his hand in my direction, dismissing me.
“I’m not asking. I’m telling you. Come three o’clock, I will compete in the first trial and all following, and if I win, I get to choose when and whom I should marry.”
He narrows his eyes, his harsh gaze slowly finding mine once more.
He hears the challenge in my voice, and he’s not one to back down. “To go against the King’s orders is to defy your entire kingdom. That is punishable in public ways, I’ll have you know, and I don’t think you would want to be humiliated in front of your future husband. It's a bad look.”
“Then I defy this kingdom and disobey you. I will do what is right for me. When the competition starts, I will stand alongside those men, and I will fight for my own hand. I will marry when I choose and to whom I wish. I demand this as the future Queen of Daramveer. And you won’t stop me.”
Bowing before him, I spin on my heels, panic surging through my body at what I’ve just proclaimed. My hand reaches for the knob when an unseen force slams me into the wall, my lip bleeding profusely as my face crashes against the rough stone.
“If you won’t listen to your father, your king, then you won’t attend the competitions at all. I don’t need you there to have them continue—I don’t think you realize that.” He grinds his teeth, now inches from my bleeding mouth. He shouts toward the study door, and four guards rush in, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me away from my father as I try to claw my way toward him. “You need time to think about this, Briar. I’m not sure what’s got into you, but I think some alone time will do you well. You are used to being alone anyway. I’ll give the men your regards.”
The unfamiliar guards swing toward my already bruised lip, and my vision fades to black.
My head throbs as I slump against the cold stone floor. My lip is coated with a thick layer of dried blood from hitting my face on the door. I quickly check to ensure my teeth are intact and feel relieved to find them all perfectly in place. Even the dim candlelight stings my eyes as I adjust to the gloom surrounding me, the gray stone walls quickly becoming suffocating. A thick wooden door sits in the far corner of the room and seems to be my only way out. I sit up, dizziness hitting me harder than the guards did as I grasp the wall, hoping I don’t pass out again. I stumble to the door and pull on the handle. It’s locked.
Shit.
My head throbs, but I burrow down, drawing in my magic to move through the shadows and out of this dungeon. As the mist takes me, I crash into the stone ceiling and land with a thud on the hard floor, my body ringing with pain from the fall. My father clearly has wards protecting this room to stop magic from being used.
I scan the room and notice a small ritual site in the far corner. Rigils line the walls in various patterns in a red liquid, which I quickly realize is blood. Mine. No wonder my magic won’t work. It’s warded specifically to keep me in. I slide down the stone wall as I attempt to slow my pounding heart.
Think, Briar, think.
The competition will start soon, and I know my father will keep his word—keeping me locked here until it’s over. He’s done worse things to people who didn’t speak to him the way I did. Tipping my head back, I scream until my lungs burn, bile rising in my throat. It’s over, and I ruined my chance before I ever got one. The candlelight continues to dance against the darkness, casting small shadows that float around the room as my attention shifts to something more significant.
The creature haunting me stands in the corner, a whirlpool of darkness enveloping its terrifyingly thin body. I spring to my feet, fear threatening to spill my stomach onto the ground beside me. With no weapons and nowhere to run, it has me this time. However, a quick death at the hands of this creature seems better than rotting in the King of Daramveer’s dungeon. I can’t help but wonder where the other prisoners are—the empty shackles rattle against the unyielding walls.
The creature remains frozen in the candlelight as if the wards are also affecting its powers, even though I know that isn’t the case. It got in here with me somehow. We study each other for a second longer before the door flies open, slamming against the stone wall. The crash rattles my teeth. My mouth falls open as the creature slowly turns its gaze to mine as if nudging me to leave the room. I peer through the open door and am greeted by an unnatural darkness waiting for me.
“No way I’m going through there with you right behind me,” I snap. The creature descends further into the darkness. “Why are you helping me?”
The creature points its bony finger in the direction of the exit. “Go!” it hisses.
The shriek makes my ears ring with pain. I scale the walls, my back scraping against the stone, until my feet cross the threshold of the room. My magic returns once again as a sudden surge of power flows into my veins. I glance over my shoulder to thank the creature, but the room is empty. If I hurry, I have time to make it to the first competition.
Ishift, landing a healthy distance away to not cause any commotion to the gathering crowd. I hear my father’s voice boom from the nearby canopy as I lower my head, asking an innocent townsperson to borrow their cloak. His eyes widen when he realizes who I am and he quickly removes it, handing the fabric over. “Princess,” he stutters.
“Please be quiet.” I lift my finger to my lips, motioning him to remain silent.
I navigate the crowd completely unnoticed as I make my way toward the armed men, ready to begin the trials.
The King of Daramveer stands before the large gathering. “You will compete in the order you were introduced last night. This order will continue throughout the competition if you make it to the end. A winner and a loser will be claimed for each task, and as a reminder, if you choose not to go forward in these trials, you die. At the end of the trials, whoever is left standing with the most wins under his belt will be deemed our winner and win my daughter’s hand in marriage. The Princess of Daramveer has recently fallen ill, so she may not be joining us for the upcoming trials. I will send her your regards.”
No one stands between me and the men now as I stay at the edge of the trial. The cloak conceals part of my face, and a small barrier keeps me separated from the trial. My palms begin to sweat, and a sense of unease travels through my core. I make eye contact with Silas as he tilts his head in my direction, confusion washing over his face. His gaze lingers, and one eyebrow raises slightly.
Silas mouths, “What are you doing?”
I shake my head. I press my finger against my lips.
Thatcher begins to turn his head in my direction, and I freeze. Silas knocks into his body, causing a quick distraction to ensure my cover isn’t blown. A scowl forms on Thatcher’s face, and he huffs something at Silas. A small bout of gratitude fills me.
My father continues, “Thatcher Madden of Daramveer. You were introduced first. Please step forward and begin.”
Thatcher steps into range of the first target, raising his bow. Exhaling deeply, he closes one eye and releases the first arrow, hitting the bullseye. Cheers erupt from the crowd, excited for the official kickoff to the trials. Moving to the next target, he fires his second arrow, finding its mark. Another perfect bullseye. He bows to the audience, earning squeals from the women as I roll my eyes, remaining hidden. The last target stands between him and potential victory, the distance nearly impossible to hit when my father intervenes.
