A woman on the opposite side of the table raises her hand. “Yes, I think I saw you when we signed our terms and agreements?”
Many of us snap to her at the sound of terms and agreements. I find some semblance of comfort in knowing I’m not the only one in the dark.
The middle-aged woman smiles. “Correct. I am Lady Bethany. And during your stay here at the castle, I will be overseeing you?—”
“Then you’ll explain why some of us, if not all, woke up unclothed lying in a pool of our blood withoutanyrecollection of why we’re here?” Marcella’s voice rises loudly beside me.
I flinch at the anger in her voice—the demand for an answer. Everyone else around the table tenses, slowly gliding their attention back to Lady Bethany.
A small smile lifts Lady Bethany’s lips. Though no warmth touches her small eyes. Drilling directly into Marcella with an intensity that makes me shrink back just being in her proximity. “Ladies…as you will be reporting directly to me during your time here, I have averyimportant set of rules to ensure we maintain the utmost amount of order here.”
She rips her attention off Marcella and sweeps it acrosseach individual. “You have all been accepted into this competition to prove your potential compatibility with our King. I’m here to help guide you. To help form you into the perfect wife for King Cyrus, and ultimately, the perfect Queen of the Dragon Lands. My first rule, however, is that you will not speak unless prompted. Is that clear?”
Queen?I try not to flinch back in my seat. We’re all silent. Some nod their heads. Marcella crosses her arms over her chest beside me, not bothering to mask the stubborn defiance in her expression.
“The second rule is that this…” she plucks a golden bell from the table and rings it three times, “is my call for you. Anytime and anywhere you hear it, you must immediately stop what you’re doing and come form a single-file line in front of me. Shall you be late…” She flicks her gaze directly at me, and my cheeks heat as everyone follows her line of sight. “There will be consequences. So be punctual.”
She abandons her chair to stalk carefully around the table. “The third rule is that none of you ladies may fight. Should you show any aggression you will be escorted back to your room for…a time of deep reflection.”
I swallow at the hidden threat beneath her words. Even though picking fights is the absolute last thing I would ever do.
She continues pacing, “Finally, for your own safety, you must travel in twos and always be accompanied by a guard, not venture north past this dining room, and stay in your rooms after dinner until daybreak. Now is that clear?”
We all nod, and she wags a finger at us. “Girls. I need a ‘Yes, Lady Bethany’ or a ‘No, Lady Bethany’ when I address you.”
In unison, we all murmur, “Yes, Lady Bethany.”
She smiles wide. “Good. Following breakfast every morning, we will either have etiquette lessons, a history briefing, or dragon studies. After week two once you’ve become more acclimated to the castle’s altitude, we shall begin the trials.”
All of us straighten at the table.Trials?Despite not knowing much of my past, I don’t need my memory to know physical trials would not be my strong suit. As I glance down at my thin fingers, shaking as my head pounds, it's only a confirmation.
“Yes?” Lady Bethany says.
I look up as Aelia slowly lowers her hand. “What kind of trials are they?”
Lady Bethany stops behind me, and I lower my face to the empty plate in front of me. Thankful someone else is brave enough to ask.
“You will not find out until they begin. The reason,” Lady Bethany’s voice shifts as she directs her answer to Marcella next to me, “you all have woken up the way you have is because we needed to wipe your memories. So that the trials could be a true test of your instincts, skills, and reflexes. Rather than your knowledge and experience. You all came to this castle with the confidence that you would excel in these trials…”
Her voice trails off as she begins to walk away from us, allowing me a bit more room to breathe. Though, I’m searching for whatever confidence led me to enter such a competition.
Lady Bethany continues, “After each trial, we will clean up and ready for dinner. The King shall choose one woman every night for a one-on-one dinner to get to know each of you personally. And at the end of every month, we will gather you for the King to approve for the next round. Those he doesn’t select shall have their memories wiped once again before being immediately sent home. The entirety of this courting shall last no more than six months unless the King selects his match earlier.”
She stops, turning toward movement on the top of the stair landing. Devin is there, gold amongst the silver of the other soldiers. He gives one nod to Lady Bethany from across the expanse, and she clasps her hands together with a smile.
“Well, ladies,” she plucks the golden bell up and rings it three times, “time for you to meet your King.”
Gathering our skirts with a tension lingering over us like fog, we all form a single line in front of Lady Bethany. Then we make our way up the stairs. Aelia is in front of me, with Marcella behind me as the very last woman in line. We’re led down hallways and corridors, passing grand rooms filled with art, books, tufted chairs, and flowers in vases. We stop in a massive room with tables at its center, and an odd scent in the air that nags at my attention. It’s quite dark, and out of the corner of my eye I swear there are oddly floating shadows around the room, but I chalk it up to my imagination. Toward the northern part of the room is a raised platform with two stunning, gilded chairs to look out across the expanse below.
My jaw drops. By the straightening of backs in the line of women before me, I can tell who recognizes what those chairs are.
This is a throne room. Given that Lady Bethany said this was KingCyrus we are competing for, it becomes immediately apparent where we are.
We are in the oldest capital of the entire continent.
Vitalis.
A man stalks out from the shadows behind the throne chairs. Each gliding movement carries a rolling power, sending the black chiffon cape attached to one of his shoulders cascading behind him. The rest of him is dressed to match. Rich black clothing layered over him, with tonal details and trimmings.
