“Here comes trouble,” Kaelzar mutters.
Two hours later,I’m standing in line with the rest of the Champions and their Godbeasts, right in the middle of the arena, surrounded by hundreds of spectators.
The Divinity Gazes must have been lit up this morning because the Sibyls announced the third Challenge, which was meant to prove ourworth to the king, and now people are flooding into the arena, watching from every height and angle.
I wear fitted, comfortable pants and a loose tunic, something that gives me full range of motion. A strange excitement buzzes in my chest. On the way here, riding through the streets of Viele, I saw people with red ribbons in their hair, handkerchiefs in their pockets, and small patches sewn to their sleeves. It warms me and it terrifies me.
Those are more than support, they are trust. Belief. And by wearing them, they aren’t just cheering for me. They are pledging themselves to Calista.
I try to keep the panic at bay. What happens if I win? What kind of future will our kingdom have under a goddess like her? Will I be able to control Calista and her wicked ways? Or will she force me into submission, unleash on the world what she once inflicted on Kaelzar?
My hands curl into fists at my sides. If that happens… will I be able to live with myself, knowing my stubborn refusal to accept fate brought ruin to Calcatra?
“Today is our third Challenge,” the Sibyls say in unison, their voices carrying across the arena, even from the raised dais at the far end. “Today, the Champions will fight for the prize that proves their worth to our king.”
They raise their arms, long fingers pointing to three stone, cone-shaped pillars in the arena’s center. Each one has a flat top which holds a floating box on a small pedestal. A faint golden glow surrounds each one.
My gaze sweeps past the pillars to the noble stands beyond. Among the jewels and a sea of white hair, I spot Eva. She looks radiant, every detail composed with care: her white gown contrasts perfectly against her warm brown skin, her posture regal. Her expression, though, still and unreadable.
But I know her well enough to see through it. She holds herself like that not because she doesn’t care, but to show the court that she has full confidence in me winning this challenge. And I love her for that.
I only wish she’d force Peonica to sit beside her. But the girl is stubborn as a mule and must have been furious with me not to have soughtme out as soon as the Divinity Gazes lit up. I’ll find her when this is over, I swear to myself. I’ll apologize for being too harsh.
“There, you see three wishes,” Sibyl's voices pull my gaze back to them. “Whoever reaches the top and touches the box, wins.”
Next to me, Seraphina exhales, the sound is loud and impatient. The noise is so out of place in the heavy silence that I wonder if her parents, lounging in their private booth, heard her.
The Sibyls’ words fade into the background as I glance at the girl who, by all accounts, might be my most dangerous competitor. She would probably rather die than fail this publicly.
I swallow hard, thinking of my own father. He’d want me to feel that kind of fear, he would’ve found satisfaction in my reverence of his disapproval.
“Is something ailing you during such a joyful moment?” I ask, trying to keep my voice light. If Seraphina’s composure is any clue, she’s absolutely sure she’ll win one of the wishes. I can’t let myself look any less confident, even if I feel like I’m barely holding it together.
She throws me a side glance, oddly lacking her usual bite, and then looks skyward with a wistfulness that nearly stuns me. For a moment, it seems like she doesn’t even want to be here.
“Sometimes I wish I could ride one of the Veylnar Tunnels,” she says dreamily, “and disappear somewhere no one knows my name.”
I follow her gaze. The remnants of the glowing tunnels from last night still shimmer faintly in the sky, flickering and fading.
“Maybe one day I will,” she breathes, then drags those feline eyes back to me. I brace for whatever insult is coming next. “But not today, failed queen,” she says with a sharp smirk. Her white teeth gleam. “Today, I’ll use you as a stepping stool to reach that wish.”
Strangely, her words don’t hit the way they usually do. Instead, I feel… pity. Pity for the girl who tries so hard to be ruthless and calculating. Who dreams of the stars but is forced to crawl through the dirt.
“You’re welcome to try, Seraphina,” I reply with a shrug.
She gives me something close to an impressed glare. Her dragon growls low behind her in a deep, rumbling challenge.
Kaelzar answers with a growl of his own from behind me.
I can’t help but smile, imagining the threatening expression on his face that’s probably hidden by his oversized hood. Intimidating in theory, ineffective in practice.
“Take your positions,” the Sibyls command, pointing toward four marked spots spaced evenly around the arena’s circular edge.
Above us, a shimmering glimmer of the Sphere passes over the arena. It dances over the Sibyls, catching in their robes like stardust. I feel the hum of magic resonate through the space as the Trial’s magic is sharing its will with them.
The Sibyls then raise their arms simultaneously again. “And know,” they add, “the gift must be offered in good faith and with true intention. It cannot be faulty, nor used to harm the king in the future. No gift may be repeated.”
My pulse drums like war beneath my skin. I take a deep breath when the blare of a horn shatters the air.
