Rather than taking her chair next to mine, she finds a new one at the head. Right at Lady Bethany’s side. I can’t help my lips parting in surprise, then closing them as I swallow. She has to be upset with me. She hasn’t wanted to look in my direction since the ball the other night, and now she won’t even sit next to me?
I’m running through every interaction from the second trial onward, searching for a reason for the change.
I take my seat as Aelia whispers, “Did something happen between you two?”
Flicking my gaze up off the golden plate in front of me to her, I shake my head. “I don’t think so…or at the very least, I don’t remember. She hasn’t spoken to me much or even looked in my direction.”
“She’s treating you as she does almost everyone else.”
Pinching my eyebrows together, I look down the long table at her. Now is not the time for grudges or frustration. No matter what I’ve done. We’ve created a blood pact. Willow is missing. We still have one more trial, and I can’t talk to anyone else about the bloody earring I found.
“You know what? If she treats all of her friends this way, then perhaps we shouldn’t waste our time worrying about keeping her friendship. Perhaps she’s realized only one of us can marry King Cyrus, and she doesn’t want to worry herself with her competition.”
I relax back into my chair slightly, because Aelia doesn’t know that’s not what Marcella wants. Marcella wantsmeto win the hand of King Cyrus so I can pardon her brother. Or…was that just a lie? And now that we’re closing in on the end of the competition, she’s realized what a foolish endeavor that was? That perhaps I don’t have a chance any better than she does?
But…what if I wasn’t the only one she made a pact with?
I slowly slide my attention to Aelia, who plucks a wine glass and takes a drink. As I scan the rest of the table, I snag on the one empty chair. One empty spot that belonged to Willow.
She still isn’t here.
“Lyra,” Aelia says loudly.
I stop, along with several other women around us, as we all turn to her.Based on the confusion in her face, it isn’t the first time she’s called my name.
“Sorry, I…” I shake my head as if I’ll be able to recall whatever she was saying while I was taking note of Willow’s absence.
“Is it Marcella? Or something else? You can talk to me, you know. We’re friends.” Aelia whispers quietly.
It’s Marcella.
It’s the next trial.
It’s Willow’s bloody earring I found, and Cyrus pinning Devin to the wall by the throat.
It’s the dreams and visions.
It’s a thousand things at once.
I finally answer, “I just thought her and I had become something of friends. Truthfully, I don’t think I would’ve survived the last trial if it weren’t for Marcella.”
“I understand you’re hurt,” she murmurs warmly. “But I don’t think you give yourself nearly enough credit for how far you’ve come.”
I look up from buttering a slice of bread at her and smile. “Thank you…” But I can’t take my mind off the forest and fog. Because what if that’s our next trial?
I take a bite of bread, and my eyes are drawn down the table as everyone eats dinner. I’m pulled back to that one empty spot.
Willow’s.
It’s like containing a wildfire in my chest, not being able to talk to anyone about my discovery yesterday. Each minute that ticks by, it burns hotter. Demanding me to speak to someone.
I slide my attention back to Aelia. Watching her lift her teacup to her lips and sip while I wonder if she’s someone I can truly trust the information with. She’s never given me a reason not to. She’s always been good to me.
“Still no word about Willow?” I ask her.
She sets her cup down in its dish. “No, not that I’ve heard of.”
Tossing one more glance down the table at Lady Bethany and Marcella, I gulp down the rest of my tea and quickly lower the cup to my lap. Scooping the earring out of my pocket, I place it in the teacup and set it on the dish. I push it across the table to her expectantly.
