THE ROYAL TRIALS: HEIR

by James Tate

  "I'm sorry," Kevaml said, looking at me with absolutely no recognition in his brown eyes. "Have we met? I'm new here; all the faces on the grounds staff are blurring together a bit." He gave a nervous laugh and took the handkerchief from my extended hand. "Thank you. I must have dropped this."

  Shocked, I just nodded.

  "Well, have a good evening." Kevaml—who wasn't Kevaml—gave a polite smile and turned back to his planting, leaving me to wander back to my rooms in a daze of total confusion.

  I only had one question. Who had I just spent my evening gardening with? Because it sure as hell wasn't a mild-mannered palace employee named Kevaml.

  Chapter 21

  ZARINA

  "You're sure the attack was meant for you?" Sagen pressed as we walked down the hall after grabbing a basket of food from the kitchens. She'd come looking for me before breakfast, and we'd decided to eat in the sanctuary where we could all catch up on everyone's progress. The last trial—the mysterious magical chamber—was just three days away, and we needed to discuss what would happen afterward.

  "No," I replied honestly, shaking my head. "I thought it was meant for Ty. But he insisted the position of the attacker and the length of blade meant he was going to try and stab me."

  Sagen pursed her lips, thinking. "Well, if anyone is the expert on that sort of stuff, it's Ty. You've seen his magic in action?" I nodded, remembering how he’d strategized his way off the cliff-face and how his fluid athleticism helped him catch our attacker so quickly. "Well, it's more mental than he lets on. He sees battle strategies in everything. He can predict where his opponent will strike next, where his foot will fall, which direction his weight will shift. It’s scary but also insanely impressive." Sagen paused, giving me a shrewd look. "How is he in bed?"

  I spluttered, choking on my own saliva at her question. "What? How does that have anything to do with—Oh." I applied what she'd just said about Ty's battle strategy to her rapid change of subject and saw what she was asking. "Um, I don't think it works like that. It's battle strategy, isn't it?"

  Sagen's face fell. "Oh. Good point." She thought for a moment, then grinned with another idea. "I guess you need to get him really fired up into an argument and get some good angry sex going on. I bet his magic would register that as a battle." She licked her lips suggestively. "You know you want to try it. It's all over your face."

  I just laughed in response, a bit scandalized but also more than a little curious. Damn her for putting that idea in my head.

  She continued joking about my sex life while we wandered down the hallways, keeping the details vague enough that the many servants and courtiers we passed wouldn't know who we were talking about.

  "You've put way too much thought into this," I observed as we turned into a lesser used wing of the palace—a shortcut that would take us into the gardens closest to the sanctuary. "I'm wondering if this is your way of deflecting attention."

  Sagen gave me a look of feigned innocence, all wide eyes and raised brows. "Me? Deflect from what? I was only making conversation, seeing as you've clearly decided you want to be my friend."

  I smiled and shook my head. "Oh, I have, have I?" Insert eye roll. "You wouldn't be just talking to fill the silence so I wouldn't ask about Kaiten?"

  Sagen's brows dropped into a scowl, and her lips tightened. "I don't want to talk about that asshole."

  "You mean you don't want to talk about that devilishly handsome, strong-jawed asshole with piercing dark eyes that seem to follow you like a magnet? That one?" I gave her a smug grin as her tanned cheeks flushed with color. "Yeah, this works both ways."

  "Now I remember why I don't have any girlfriends," she muttered, folding her arms over her chest in a clearly defensive pose while speeding up her pace a bit.

  A pair of men in kitchen uniforms were coming toward us down the hall, so I refrained from teasing her further until they'd passed.

  Sagen all but ignored them, but I smiled and offered a greeting as they drew closer. One of the men startled, meeting my eyes with confusion before his own gaze hardened to something determined and cruel. That was the only warning I had before his companion drew a dagger from under his tunic and lashed out at me with it.

  "Woah, what the—" I dodged his strike, deflecting the blade with the only weapon I had on me. The breakfast basket. It wasn't the most graceful of weapons, but it did the trick for keeping his deadly steel away from my skin.

  Sagen—who wasn't encumbered by the huge basket of breakfast pastries, darted in close to the second man, stunning and disarming him with just a few hard strikes of her hands, then turned his own blade back on him. She paused with the steel pressed tight against his neck, then glanced over at me.

  "You okay?" she called out, right as I shoved my attacker with the base of my basket, throwing my weight into it and trapping his weapon inside the tight wicker weave.

  "Fine," I replied, ducking as the man abandoned his knife and swung a beefy fist at my face. Throwing all fancy form and training out the window, I disabled him in the quickest way I knew how—a solid kick right between the legs.

  "Oof!" The man's eyes bugged out, and he dropped to the ground as though paralyzed, his hands clutching at his groin while he whimpered in pain. I didn't blame him; I'd kicked damn hard.

  "What kind of moron attacks ladies of the court inside the palace?" Sagen demanded, "Do you have any idea what the king will do to you for interfering in the Trials?" She was bluffing, but they didn't know that.

  Or did they?

  The man on the ground at my feet started laughing manically, coughing and wheezing as I rolled him over with my foot. "Who do you think gave the orders?" he finally spluttered out. The last word had barely left his lips before his whole body started disintegrating like it was made of nothing but ash. Within seconds, all that was left of both men were twin piles of dust.

  "That's fucked up," Sagen muttered in disgust, standing up and brushing all the human-powder off her leather pants. "I guess it answers your question about whether the attack in the Pond was meant for you."

  My stomach twisted, bile rising in my throat as I stared down at the remains of our attackers. Titus—if it had been Titus who sent them—must have created some sort of spell or oath to dispose of the evidence should their task go wrong. Maybe even if it had gone right.

  "We should..." I looked around at the mess of ash and squashed breakfast pastries. "We should clean this all up."

  Sagen shook her head. "You carry on to the secret lair and fill the guys in. I'll go find someone to clean up this mess and replace that basket of food."

  I arched a brow at her. "What? You're not going to insist on shadowing me just in case someone jumps out of the bushes and tries to kill me again?"

  The raven-haired beauty just snorted and shook her head. "I think you can handle yourself, Your Majesty. Just don't dither like an airhead, okay?"

  "Understood, Your Highness," I replied with equal sass. "Don't forget to grab those custard-filled ones. Those are my favorites."

  She was already hurrying back the way we'd come but waved a hand in acknowledgement.

  I stood there just a moment longer, looking down at the remains of two poor men who probably hadn't had much choice in their own actions. Money and threats could force most people to do just about anything, but I would guess that they’d had no clue their lives would be forfeited for failure.

  Feeling sick and even more horrified at Titus's casual disregard for life, I hurried out of the palace and across the gardens to the sanctuary. While Sagen was right and I was totally capable of taking care of myself—especially given the obvious lack of skill in these assassins—I still needed a hug.

  Chapter 22

  TY

  The door to the sanctuary closed behind me with a solid sound, and I took a moment to find my calm. Zarina had just told us about the attack on her and Sagen in the hallway of the damn palace, and my anger was building to a raging inferno, fueled by my fear for her safety.
>
  As badly as I wanted to stay in our "secret lair" as Sagen kept calling it, our sanctuary, I had an important meeting to get to with the Asintischians—a meeting I couldn't afford to miss, given they were our best option for a show of strength at the Golden Ball.

  "Hey, you okay?" Sage called out, coming toward me. She was carrying a large basket, which—judging by the tension in her forearms—looked to be heavily laden.

  I gave her a terse nod, still not fully back in control of my temper. "Fine," I snapped. "You?"

  Her brows rose at my tone, but she didn't push the issue. "Still alive. Takes more than a couple of spelled servants to take this chick down."

  Her brazen attitude brought a small smile to my lips. "Too true. I'm glad you're here, Sage." Not just for the entertainment her many faces brought me, but for the fact that she was a formidable fighter in her own right. Had I needed to choose, I couldn't think of anyone better to act as Zarina's personal bodyguard. Other than myself, of course.

  She screwed up her nose, her dark eyes laughing. "Don't get all mushy on me, tough man. That's not the kind of friendship we have."

  I gave a small laugh then, feeling the worst of my anger draining away. "Damn right, princess. I'll be back later today. Take care of my girl."

  She gave a casual shrug, shifting the heavy basket in her hands. "She's tough as nails, Ty. She can take care of herself." She pursed her lips, giving me a pointed look. "But just in case, I've got her back."

  I let out a slow breath, feeling just a tiny piece of weight shift off my shoulders. "Thank you."

  Sagen tossed her hair. "No drama. She amuses me."

  I held the door open for her and the massive basket of food she carried, then headed back into the palace to change for my meeting with Sagen's ex-boyfriend and her bad attitude–wielding, spoiled older stepbrother who was next in line for the throne of Asintisch. Much as I hated the guy, he was potentially set to be one of Zarina's strongest allies in the coming years.

  The constant dull ache in my chest seemed worse today than yesterday, and I rubbed the scar through my shirt with the heel of my hand, gritting my teeth. No matter what Lee tried, his magic wasn't working on it anymore. It was driving him crazy with frustration, too, because in every other way his power was only getting stronger.

  If it were any normal wound, I'd be resigned to leaving it to heal on its own. But this was no normal wound, and every day that passed I noticed a decrease in my strength, both physically and magically.

  The attack in the Pond had highlighted my weakness to me in a way that kept me up all night. I should have seen the strike coming well before Zarina, yet we noticed it at almost the same time. It scared me more than anything else that I might not be able to protect her as well as I wanted to. Needed to.

  So as much as I hated to leave her after yet another attempt on her life, I knew my brothers were providing all the support she needed for now.

  Shoving open the door to my room, I yanked my shirt over my chest and went straight to the mirror to inspect the pitch-black scar. The web of dark veins radiating from the scar itself had grown, there was no question about it. A day ago, they’d barely extended a couple of inches, whereas now two lines were creeping up toward my throat.

  "Shit," I cursed under my breath, the weight of all my worries resting heavily on my shoulders once again. "That can't be good."

  As I reached a hand up to touch those longer lines, my fingers trembled, and I needed to take a few calming breaths to fight back my fear. Not because I was afraid to die, but because my greatest fear was Zarina's safety. If I was no longer here... would my brothers be able to keep her from harm? Our father would only be the first in a long line of challenges for my love, and I could only pray to the gods that I would be by her side to face them all.

  "I'm so sorry," a boy spoke, startling me as he came out of my attached bathroom. "I apologize for the intrusion, Your Highness," he stammered, averting his eyes to the ground while I let out a long-suffering sigh and tugged the mask down over my face from where it’d rested on my hair.

  "No intrusion at all," I replied, feeling like an ass for not checking if my rooms were free of staff before busting in and stripping down. "I'm sorry to have startled you."

  The servant boy, who looked barely half my age, gave a small bow and almost dropped the armful of dirty laundry he was holding.

  "Sorry, Your Highness," he apologized again, "I'm a bit clumsy."

  I quirked a small smile and shook my head. "Nothing to be sorry for, kid."

  Heading over to my closet, I grabbed a clean shirt and pulled it over my head while the servant boy still stood there, shuffling his feet and looking awkward.

  "Is there something I can help you with?" I offered, trying really hard to sound caring—because I did care—and not impatient. Which I was also.

  The boy wet his lips, his nervous, blue-eyed gaze flickering from my masked face down to my chest, and I realized he'd seen my black scar. "If you don't mind my impertinence, Your Highness, would you tell me where you came by your injury?"

  I raised my brows, intrigued by the bold question from the boy. "Uh, I came off second best in a fight with a corrupt magic user." Why I felt the need to tell him the truth, I had no idea. But there it was.

  The kid just gave a nod, like he wasn't surprised to hear this. "I know someone who can fix it for you," he said, totally expressionless like we were discussing a hole in my sock.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. "What do you mean?"

  The kid shrugged. "I've seen a scar like that before. My father had one."

  I frowned but figured the kid was mistaken. Maybe his father had been badly burned or something, causing a scar that looked similar. But still... "How did he fix it?" I asked, noticing the kid had said his father had had a scar like mine. Past tense.

  The boy’s blue eyes didn't shift at all, but his mouth turned down. "He didn't. I overheard him talking to someone about it, but he said the price was too high to pay."

  The kid’s information was vague at best, but I was curious enough to learn more. "So what happened to him?"

  "He died," the boy responded, his voice cold, "a year and a day after coming home with the mark. Every day he got weaker and more frail, then he started having seizures up to a hundred times a day. He couldn't eat anything because it would come right back up, and eventually he just... died."

  My lips parted in surprise, but no words came out.

  "Anyway, I just thought if you want to get that taken care of, I know where to find the guy who offered to fix it for my father." The servant boy gave a small shrug like he didn't really care either way. "I followed him back to the gods’ temples. He's a priest there."

  I wet my lips, still feeling stunned. "What was the price, do you know? What price was so high that your father would rather die such a slow and painful death?"

  The kid shook his head. "I know, right? I didn't get it either. The priest just said he needed to make an offering at the temple in order to change his fate."

  "An offering?" I frowned. "What kind of offering?"

  The kid's blue eyes turned up to the ceiling, like he was trying to remember the exact words he'd heard. "Not an offering. A sacrifice. He needed to forfeit my mother’s love. He would live, whole and healthy, but she would have no recollection of ever loving him. No one would remember that she’d loved him, not me or anyone. Except him." The boy sighed like he thought his father was a damn fool for not accepting the deal. "Anyway. It seems like a no-brainer to me. What good is love compared to your life, right?"

  I nodded slowly, but definitely didn't agree. But what would this kid know? He'd clearly never been in love, so he couldn't possibly understand what an impossible choice his father had been faced with: survive a year and a day with the woman he loved or be erased from her memories and doomed to love her from afar.

  "So?" The boy prompted. "Do you want me to take you to the priest? I'm sure he can offer you the same deal. Easy."

  My
brow furrowed. My instinctive reaction was to reject the offer because the thought of losing Zarina's love was a fate worse than death. I'd happily suffer through a thousand painful deaths if it meant just one more day with her.

  But the alternative offered something I craved almost as much as her love—the opportunity to protect her. She would no longer love me and I'd be cursed to live with the memories and unable to act on them... but she would be fine. She'd have Zan and Lee to care for her, to love her just as much as they do now. And I'd still be alive to protect her from the shadows. More than that, she would be spared the pain and heartbreak of watching a loved one die what sounded like a horribly painful death.

  "Your Highness?" the servant boy asked, looking impatient. "Will you trade love for life?"

  I shook my head slowly, rapidly weighing up my choices and coming up with only one answer.

  "No?" the kid sounded surprised. "You're content to let her suffer your loss when you're gone?"

  "No," I replied. "No, I can't make this decision so lightly. Both choices would impact her life, and it wouldn't be right to make that choice without her."

  The boy looked confused for a moment, then gave a short, childish laugh. "So... you're going to consult with the woman you love before making a life-changing decision that will alter everyone's fate?" He nodded slowly. "I didn't expect that. How interesting."

  The servant boy bent down to collect the shirt that had slipped from his armload of laundry, then started heading for the door.

  "Wait, that's it?" I called after him, confused as all fuck.

  The kid continued, only pausing when he got to the big laundry basket on wheels he'd left near my door. He tossed the armful of dirty clothes into the basket, then glanced back up and did a small double take when he saw me standing there.