Click—
Marcella, Aelia, and I reach for it.
The cannons roar to life as Marcella and Aelia leap for the stairs, pulling me with them. My legs drag, unable to summon the strength needed to jump or land. As we fall onto the stairs, fire exploding in the arena behind us, both of them catch and steady me.
But darkness creeps in near the edge of my vision. Marcella and Aelia say something, but all of my senses begin to fade. I feel them lifting me, pulling me?—
And then I feel nothing at all.
Fifteen
- MARCELLA -
After we’ve returned to the castle and those injured have been led to the infirmary, we rest, bathe, and change into gowns for the evening.
I brush out the tangles in my damp hair aggressively, glaring at my reflection in the bathroom mirrors like it’ll disperse the anger in my veins. Devin’s warning to crawl last night was enough for us to get through the first part of the trial. But I’m furious he couldn’t have warned me about the rest. Had it not been for Lyra Goldbrook, not only would I have been one of the few taken to the infirmary—it’s quite possible I would have been dead.
Her trembling, burnt hands are a haunting memory replaying over and over in my mind. The limp weight of her in my and Aelia’s arms as we slowly hauled her up the staircase to the finishing platform.
And the look of Lady Bethany. Smug, and somehow still cheery. Even if she hadn’t witnessed the other deaths in the trials, surely seeing the state of Lyra and Moe would have been enough to wipe it off her face.
But no.
I place the brush on the counter and rest my palms on the cool marble, leaning into it as I look at myself in the mirror. A three-inch slice is crusted over beneath my left eye from an arrow in the first part of the arena. Despite Devin’s persistence in wanting me escorted to the infirmary, I waved it off.
Still too pissed to take any of his advice.
Half an hour ago I dismissed—or rather snapped at—my lady’s maids from bathing and readying me. Relishing in the silence left behind, the solitude instead of having them buzz about me.
A knock sounds at my bedroom door, and I straighten with a breath, lifting my chin. It can’t be the maids again, right? I still have plenty of time before dinner starts.
When no voice calls out to announce who it is, I go to answer it. My ruby-red velvet gown sweeps across the marbled floors behind me. I open the door to find Cyrus on the other side.
“Will you come take a walk with me?” he asks, his shoulders rolled back and hands folded behind him. A dazzling set of white formal wear trimmed in gold dresses his tall frame. Even his hair is brushed back in elegant waves from his sharp features.
I lean against the door slightly. “Do I have a choice?”
He snorts, then looks down at his boots, before looking back up at me. “Always.”
Rolling my eyes, I say, “One moment.” Then close the door to retrieve my shoes in the bathroom. When I slip out of my room, he offers me an elbow.
It would be rude to refuse an employer such an innocent gesture.
Never mind aKing.
So I loop my arm through his, and he escorts me down the hallway in the opposite direction of the dining room. We turn a corner, and a group of women gawk as they see him leading me. We dip our heads, their eyes blown wide before they scurry off.
He guides me down the grand staircase and out into the gardens. Lush and green. Bursting with every color of the rainbow and hazed over by the orange wash of sunset. Somewhere within the gardens, a fountain gurgles. Chirping birds flit in and out of cherry blossomed trees. He leads me down a pathway deeper into the gardens until we are surrounded by trees and bushes, the tops of the castle peeking up behind us.
“Why are you taking me out here?” I demand. “We’re to report to dinner in less than half an hour.”
“Because you’re upset.”
“Oh, more than upset. I’m absolutely pissed.” I take my arm out of his and turn to face him. Both of us stopping in the center of a benched, circular courtyard. “Did you even watch the trials today?”
“I couldn’t.”
“And why not?”
