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“A trained healer in town—I’m sorry, I was mostly unconscious and struggling to stay alive, so I did not get his name, but he gave my friends the antidote, and I recuperated at home. Lyric and Madigan looked after me until I was well enough to take care of myself.”

“You are well now. Then we will speak of it no more,” Fren said plainly and waved his long white fingers. Apparently, attempted murder wasn’t important enough to worry about. And that was my last best hope out the window, literally dismissed with a hand wave.

“What is your decision, Raphael Willow?” Orl asked. “Which of your fated mates have you chosen?”

I took a deep breath. “Your lordships, I’m honored and pleased that you gave me the power to choose, but I will be entirely honest—I know it’s a subject that was put to rest, but I don’t know if I can trust either prince. Someone poisoned me. It very nearly took my life, and you ask me which prince I want to give my heart to? Neither. I would have to marry a man I can’t trust. I don’t think that’s fair to ask of me. I would love nothing more than to return to Norvale and⁠—”

Roh smacked his gavel sharply to stop my speech. I snapped my mouth shut. It seemed I’d gone too far and acted too familiarly with the Triumvirate. Was it possible I’d pushed them far enough to make a more fateful decision? Did I just sign my own death warrant?

“You will return to Norvale but only temporarily,” Roh said sternly. “We cannot allow this situation to turn into a war or battle where hundreds die and villages are burned.”

“I agree. Isn’t there a way to dissolve this whole thing reasonably?” I figured I’d already stepped over the line, so I decided to just leap.

It was interesting how the three men never looked at each other to exchange expressions. They stayed stone faced and seemed to know exactly what the others were thinking.

Fren knew without discussion that it was his turn to speak. “There can be no dissolution. We also cannot risk war, something we have worked hard to avoid. It only harms Troikana. However, there will be a battle.”

More low grumbles echoed through the chamber. Fren immediately raised his hand to silence the room.

“In five days, each region will send their best warrior here to the Tribunal for a fight. We will allow seating for spectators. The warriors will be allowed to use whatever skills and powers they have, and if the fight is to the death, then so be it. Raphael will be handed over to the winning region. It is an elaborate and unfortunate necessity to resolve this matter without precipitating a regional war. In the meantime, Raphael Willow must not be harmed. She will be there to witness the fight and will leave with the victor. If she is poisoned or injured again, neither of you will sit on a throne, and your families will leave their seats of power and live in disgrace.”

Old Coda was hunched over his desk, busily dipping his pen in a silver inkwell and scribbling away on the parchment, recording everything that was said. It was the equivalent of an official document and would soon be a decree issued to each region. The Tribunal ended and the three sorcerers walked out without looking back. I stood on the dais staring at the now empty table and asked myself, “What the hell just happened?”

More grumbling and snarling behind me as the two princes and their lackeys got up and strode out of the room. Fenrick and Gunnar seemed to already be planning how to win with someone named Greshum or some such name. The sorcerers stated that any form of power or magic could be used, which seemed unfair. But then, what did I care? I didn’t want to be with either prince. They could fight to the death for all I cared. Either way, I was the one coming out a loser.

My feet felt heavy as I stepped off the dais, as if my shoes were made of concrete. The only thing that lightened my steps and mood was standing in the row of seats—the tall, gorgeous Valian warrior looking like someone who stepped out of a movie screen.

I worked hard not to show any emotion as we walked out of the building. Once outside, my hand shot over to take hold of his hand.

“This is all your fault, Greyhart,” Fenrick hissed from his carriage. “Just how close have you become with my future wife? That’s right. Granier’s fighter doesn’t have a chance, so Raphael will be coming home with me, and you won’t see her or talk to her or so much as utter her name, vamp trash. You hear me?”

Revel didn’t answer. He turned his back on Fenrick while he was still going on with his nasty rant. We walked back to the wagon. I glanced through the tree limbs to the charcoal covered stake, and a shiver ran through me as I thought about the glitch. I shook off the icky feeling that it left me with.

Revel was quiet for the first leg of the journey, but he wasn’t sulking in anger. When he was angry, his chiseled jaw usually clenched tight, and there would be the slightest twitch in his cheek. Now, though, he seemed to be deep in thought. I felt a little hurt by that. Was he thinking about his own future, about how he’d just move on once I was out of Norvale?

I sat silently stewing about that possibility and then decided to test the waters. “So, I guess that’s it, then,” I said airily. “A silly, barbaric fight, and based on what Fenrick believes, his fighter will win and then off I go to Regnamoor. Maybe I’ll get really good at making moonshine. That’s a highly regarded skill there.”

No answer, which I took very personally. I crossed my arms snugly, and my posture slumped into a pout.

“We’ll see,” he finally said.

I looked at him. “Uh, could you give a little more detail to that response? Do you think Fenrick is right? Will his fighter win? Because now that I think about it, I’d prefer Solamere. Less mud and smells.”

“I know who Fenrick is planning to send for the fight. Greshun is one of his guards. He’s got far more bulk than brains, but he fights like he doesn’t feel pain. You can spear him right through the chest, and he’ll just laugh. I know this firsthand. He could probably tear Granier’s fighter to shreds, especially in his lethal wolf form, but a skilled fighter can outsmart him. And one who uses magic can easily distract him. Greshun has little attention span or patience. He angers easily, which can make him more dangerous or just plain reckless.”

“And so, your final analysis?” I asked.

His hazel gaze turned my direction. I momentarily held my breath thinking how incredible he looked under the sparse light of the forest. “I have no analysis.”

Everything about him seemed suddenly distant and cold, and it added to the terrible heartbreak I suffered from hearing that one way or another, and whether I liked it or not, I was going to marry a prince.

Now, along with the ache in my chest and the cold feeling in my limbs, my stomach was in knots with the realization that Revel had come to terms with all of this. It wasn’t too surprising. He was a man, after all, and he could very easily move on with his life. I was the one who would be in a strange place, trapped in a loveless marriage, and always in constant fear for my life.

I crossed my arms and sank down again. The rest of the journey was silent, and with each jostle of the wagon I felt another piece of my heart breaking off.

Thirty-Five

Three days had passed. I’d spent all of them at home. It made no sense to go out and enjoy life with my friends knowing that in two days’ time I’d leave them all behind. Revel had all but abandoned me. I should never have given him my heart … and my body. It was entirely possible that I’d get to my new home, and my secret would be revealed, whether by some creepy old lady with magical hands or a palace doctor. I was sure that would lead to a quick execution. That might even be for the best. I was destined for misery, so cutting that short would be an appreciated way out of this mess. Not that I’d resigned myself to pure misery. Mom had carried me away the first time, and we’d stayed hidden for years, until the use of her awesome healing powers gave away her location. She’d evaded being arrested by hiding out in a remote cottage in a forest. Why the heck couldn’t I do the same? Admittedly, I wasn’t nearly as savvy or brave as my mom, but running away was definitely on my list of possibilities. I’d even imagined a wonderful scenario where Mom and I ran off together to recreate the carefree life we’d had back in the human world. If Revel could forget about me so easily and make new plans, then so could I. At least, that was the pep talk I was going with.