by Everly Frost
“Then don’t do that either.”
He jolts like I shot electricity through him. “What?”
I consider the floor, unable to stand looking at him. “Find a new home. You must have made it through the endurance test somehow. Find another mountain to climb.”
“Brute strength,” he says. “It’s all I’m good for… my father says.”
Ah, nothing like a label to define a male’s belief about who he is. “Then use it to kick him out.”
His leg stops jiggling. “What?”
“Your father. Go home and give him the boot. I don’t think the Elven Command will object. Let him live with the pigs where he belongs. Be a better master to your workers. Be a better son for your mother.”
He stares at me through the shield. The cogs may be turning slowly in his mind, but they are finally turning. “If I do that, will you show me mercy?”
“I’ll do better than that: I won’t give you another thought.”
He tilts his head, appraising me. “Okay then.”
He shifts gears. Again, it’s slow, but he gets there. “You’re more complex than I thought you were.”
I sigh. “Thank you, Harmon. For telling me the truth.”
He steps out of the chair. This time he takes a knee and bows before leaving the room. I swallow the unpleasant taste in my mouth and think calming thoughts to wipe that interaction from my mind.
Baelen is last and I don’t want to admit to myself that I’m tired. Dealing with the last two males was draining. I try to stay relaxed as I stare at the door, waiting for it to open.
It remains closed.
I wait. I fold my legs again. And again. And I wait some more.
Five minutes later, I’m worried. I check out the Elven Command. What if they’ve done something to stop Baelen getting here? What if this is the latest in their scheming? But they’re fidgeting and frowning too. If that’s any indication, they aren’t responsible for the delay.
The door finally opens and I almost leap out of my chair. I gasp as Baelen stumbles into the room. I try to see what’s wrong. Is he hurt?
He lumbers over to the chair. His forehead puckers. He frowns at it, tapping his heartstone against his thigh. Then he feels his way into the seat, fumbling and almost dropping the stone in the process.
“This is a nice chair.” He pats the armrest, leaning to one side of it.
Wait… My jaw drops. “Baelen Rath! Are you… still drunk?”
He rubs his forehead, squinting at me. “No. Maybe?”
“But that’s two days now,” I scold him. “How much longer do you intend to be inebriated?”
“As long as it takes.”
“To what?”
“Get you out of my head.” His grin disappears but he continues without pause, waggling his finger in the air. “Did you know that the color blue is supposed to be calming?”
“I’ve heard that.”
He growls as if he’s beyond disappointed. “Well, it’s not. I’ve tried looking at it from all angles and it’s not.”
“What are you…?” What is he talking about?
He leans so far forward that he almost tips out of the chair. He presses his finger against the shield between us. “Do you know what I need?”
I fold my arms across my chest. “I can’t imagine.”
He points at my shoulder. At least, I think he points at my shoulder. I can’t be sure because his finger sways between the wall and the back of my chair.
“I need…” He purses his lips. He taps his finger against the shield again. “Nope… I forgot.”
I’m not going to get any sense out of him. This interaction is pointless and the only thing I can control is ending it.
“Well, thank you, Baelen. For telling me the truth. Now get out of my sight.”
“You’re welcome.” He slithers out of the chair, wobbles, and somehow clambers to his feet. “Uh?”
I point. “The door’s that way.”
I wait only long enough for it to close behind him before huffing in exasperation. The Elven Command looks as astonished as I am.
Teilo Splendor clears his throat and announces through the shield: “Princess, you must wait here until the champions have presented their heartstones to the chest. Which… might take some champions longer than others.”
The other elves cough, but Teilo continues. “Your advisor may be present to verify the proceedings, but you may not know the outcome until we announce it tomorrow morning. Your advisor will return when it’s time for you to leave this room.”
The Command files out and then I wait. And fume. And worry. But mostly, I fume. How could he treat the compatibility test with so much disrespect? Such a lack of care? To turn up barely able to string two words together. By the time Elise returns, I’m fit to explode. I jump to my feet. “That male! Take me to his quarters.”
She blocks me before I can take another step. “Princess, you can’t go to the soldier’s barracks.”
I make a wide circle around her and stride from the room. “Don’t tell me what I can’t do right now, Elise.”
I call my Storm Command to me. Jordan and Elise have an exchange of the wide eyes when I announce where we’re going.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Princess?” Jordan asks.
“The best I’ve had today,” I growl. “Let’s go.”
It takes half an hour to get there but my anger just gets worse. For him to turn up to my quarters in the middle of the night was one thing, but to take the compatibility test when he couldn’t even stay upright…
My Storm Command wears full body armor every day now. They pose a commanding force marching through the archway into the military compound. It’s their job to know every part of the city so they don’t need to stop for directions. They escort me into the heart of the soldier’s barracks to an imposing building made of sandstone.
The soldiers standing guard do a double take.
My demand makes them jump. “Where is Commander Rath?”
They both bow. One of them points. “To the right along the corridor, Princess. It’s the door at the end.”
I don’t wait for my ladies to close the gap. Instead of surrounding me along the narrow corridor, they form two lines, one on each side of me, giving me full access to the door ahead. When we reach it, Jordan knocks and pushes it open without waiting for a response.
“The Storm Princess,” she announces, wise enough to step immediately out of my way.
The room is twice the size of my bedroom. Maps cover the walls, and chairs are scattered throughout the room. An enormous desk the size of the one in the War Room rests under wide windows on the opposite side.
My brother leans against the table, his posture relaxed. I haven’t seen him since the Heartstone Ceremony but he’s been busy acting as proxy for Baelen, looking after Rath land while Baelen is busy with the trials. Macsen gives me a wide smile. “Welcome, sister.”
Baelen sits on one of the chairs in front of the table, his head in his hands. I don’t care that he winces with every thud of my boots across the wooden floor.
“Baelen Rath, what is wrong with you?”
“Don’t shout, Marbella. My head hurts.”
“Oh, your head hurts? What about your reputation? Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to sit across from those… those… monsters? To think that I actually made them afraid of you. And then you blow in like a stale breeze without a sensible word to give me.”
“I had to protect you.”
“How was that protecting me?”
He jumps to his feet and towers over me in two seconds flat. Getting up so suddenly was clearly a bad idea because he flinches and grips his head. He sways, groans, but manages to focus on me. “Think about how dangerous the chair of truth is for us.”
“But… I wouldn’t ask you any difficult questions.”
“Marbella, please, give me a scrap of mercy. I can’t say out loud what I’m thinking when I’m around you. I’v
e been drinking for two days hoping that I could defeat that chair.”
“One day,” my brother interrupts. “You’ve been drinking for one day to defeat the chair.”
Baelen glares at him.
Macsen isn’t deterred. “The first day’s drinking was for reasons he won’t tell me about, but he got the idea for beating the chair after that.”
I plant my hands on my hips. “Well, it worked.”
Baelen presses his palm to his temple. “A bit too well.” He sinks into the nearest chair. “Ah, my head.”
I whirl to my brother. “Macsen, please pour a bucket of icy water over Commander Rath’s head. It seems to need numbing.”
I stalk out of the room, my fury remaining strong until I’m halfway home. Then it dissolves like ice in the sun. I don’t want to admit that Baelen’s right. Acting the fool is far better than saying something he doesn’t want to say in front of the Command—especially something that could hurt me.
My anger has evaporated by the time I reach my quarters. It’s replaced with worry about the results of the test. For all I know, the Heartstone Chest could have spat Baelen’s heartstone back at him and he could be out of the trials.
That’s what I want… isn’t it? I don’t want any of them to be compatible because then I’d be the last elf standing and the curse would be over.
For what might be the first time ever, I look forward to taming the Storm that afternoon because it will stop me thinking about the outcome of the test.
29. Marbella Mercy
The next morning, the arena is as gorgeously laid out as it was on the day of the Heartstone Ceremony. The Elven Command has worked hard to erase every sign of the battle that occurred here four days ago. Their spellcasters have turned the space into a lush garden. I’m not sure who is responsible—or whether the Command understands the meaning—but gladiolus flowers adorn ever pillar, cascading across the walls, and drape from the second level.
Just like the Heartstone Ceremony, the Elven Command takes up most of the dais and the remaining five champions wait at the base of it. To my surprise, that morning the advisor from the House of Bounty approached Elise to pass on a message to me: that Pedr Bounty’s grandson apologized for his presence, but the spells forced him to be there. He offered an undertaking: that he would not raise his eyes beyond the floor and would leave as soon as the spells released him. I accepted.
Elwyn Elder moves to the center of the dais to hush the crowd. “I now ask the Storm Princess to step forward.”
I press my hands to my sides. I’ve opted for simplicity today: a gray suit like the ones I wore jogging, but my weapons belts are on display and accessible if I need them. I step from my entrance room onto the stage.
Sound assaults me as soon as I appear. I flinch. I whirl to the crowd, on my guard, as the uproar continues. And then I realize… they’re cheering. Calling my name. Our Princess! Our Princess! Petals rain down on me from the second level. I turn in a circle, stunned and beyond words. How and when did this happen?
The cheering goes on for so long that I have to raise my arms for quiet. Finally, the crowd settles down and I stand to the side, waiting for Elwyn Elder to continue.
He doesn’t look at me but his countenance is icy. He doesn’t like being upstaged. “The results of the compatibility test will now be announced.”
At the base of the dais, the champions wait in their black robes. True to his word, Gwynn Bounty doesn’t look up. Harmon Faith has fixed his focus on the wall behind me. In fact, all of them have found some point in the room to fixate on. Even Baelen stands perfectly still, not looking at me.
What’s happened since yesterday? Why aren’t any of them looking at me? A shiver suddenly runs to my toes.
Elwyn Elder smiles. “Three males were found to be compatible.”
Three? The room suddenly spins. Sebastian can’t be compatible so that means one of the monsters is. Or both of them. The thought makes me nauseous but I tell myself that I should be glad. It will be so much easier to kill one of them if they win.
“The following compatible males will approach the dais. The others will leave immediately.”
Elwyn pauses, dragging out his moment of power. “Jasper Grace.”
Jasper strides up the steps and positions himself to my right, eyes down. I can’t figure out his expression, but that’s nothing new. I try not to read anything into it.
“Sebastian Splendor.”
What? No!
I take a step back. Sebastian climbs the steps, his hands balled into fists, but not at me. He’s the first of the champions to look up, throwing daggers at Elwyn Elder. He positions himself in front of me, blocking my view of the other champions on the arena floor.
I’m choking. I can’t breathe. How is this male compatible when his heart belongs to someone else? I shake my head at Sebastian. No.
He drops his gaze without responding.
“And the final compatible male…” Elwyn’s mouth pinches like this is the first distasteful thing he’s done today. “The final male is Baelen Rath.”
Baelen approaches the dais, still fixated on a point at the back of the room. He takes his place to my left. There’s enough distance for me to take stock of all three males. Jasper and Sebastian both cast imposing figures but standing beside them Baelen is a Rath through and through. He’s the biggest. The strongest. The one with the most scars. But these three males have fought side by side. They’re friends. They’re loyal to each other. And…
I’m the only one who can yield.
In a final fight between two of these males, one will have to kill the other.
Now I understand why they’re so subdued. There are only a few more chances for elimination. They must each be assessing the odds, the possible outcomes. From their point of view, the only way all of them come out alive is if I make it to the final fight and exercise my right to yield to my opponent.
Except that I already told Baelen I wouldn’t do that.
I never should have told him that.
I grip my stomach, trying to calm my breathing, to halt my overwhelming panic. I can’t kill any of them. I don’t want them to die. I want to scream. Why did it have to be these three males?
I understand why Jasper is compatible with me. He’s from a minor House. He knows what it’s like to be poor, looked down on. He’s worked hard to get where he is, using his determination, courage, and persistence to be his House champion.
But how is Sebastian still a contender? There’s no way we’re compatible. His heart belongs to Jordan and my own bleeds for them. She stands off to the side, focused on me, avoiding looking at him as if she can shield herself from what’s going on around her.
Elwyn Elder instructs the three males to leave the dais. At some point, the eliminated males have already left, and I don’t give them a second thought.
Jasper and Baelen are both wooden as they take the steps, but Sebastian has located Jordan. One glance from him is all it takes. She presses the heel of her palm to her heart. Elise pulls her close but it’s too late. Tears slide down the cheeks of my fearless protector. Jordan turns away before anyone else sees and five ladies from my Storm Command step up to form a visual barrier around her to protect her.
Sebastian is stricken pale. He stops at the top of the steps, his fists clenched, shoulders drawn back. For a second, I think he’s going to confront the Elven Command. His House forced him into this position, tearing him and Jordan apart. As he throws a look of anger at his grandfather, I finally see the hatred he’s kept hidden for so long.
He continues down the steps to take his place beside Baelen. That’s when it strikes me why Sebastian is still here. His heart is broken in the same way that mine tore apart seven years ago. Neither of us can have what we want, and our pain unites us. Our broken hearts link us. They make us mirror each other.
We are compatible in exactly the wrong way.
There are three males left. This is my last chance to use my power to veto one
of them.
Elwyn clears his throat. “The next trial—”
“Stop!”
Elwyn stares at me in surprise.
I say, “I wish to exercise my right of veto.”
The crowd gasps. Elwyn glances at the Elven Command. He clearly wasn’t expecting me to do this, but I haven’t played by their rules all along, so I’m not about to start now. “The Princess has that right.”
My heart is pounding, banging against my chest. I don’t have a chance of calming down, but as long as I can get the words out, I’ll be okay. “First I want to acknowledge that the vetoing of a House comes with an obligation. The vetoed House can make a request of me.”
“That is correct,” Elwyn says, “But it must be something that the Princess is capable of fulfilling without harm to herself or her… reputation.”
Oh, the hypocrisy. They’d tried to hurt both me and my reputation during the battle in this arena. I smother my distaste for Elwyn as I step down from the dais, pausing at the base of the stairs.
Baelen meets my eyes for the first time. He’s somber and clearly sober. I regret now my anger at him yesterday. At the time when I stormed into the barracks, he already knew the outcome of the test. I picture him sitting with his head in his hands as I burst into the room. Now I know that it wasn’t just because his head hurt.
Right now, I have to conceal my intentions. No House wants to be vetoed because of the dishonor that comes with it. There’s nobody left in Baelen’s House to try to stop me, so I head for him.
Confusion spreads across his face, followed by resignation. Maybe he thinks that I’m still angry at him. Maybe he guesses that I’m trying to save his life. Maybe he understands that I’m not coming for him at all.
Beside him, Sebastian’s expression becomes more and more blank and absent as he sees his chances of being with Jordan disappear with every step I take. Once I use my veto power, only two males will remain, which means there’s only one more chance for elimination before the final fight to the death.
Jasper, on the other hand, looks surprised. I know from our time on the mountain that he’s loyal to Baelen. He is also observant. He wouldn’t expect me to willingly dishonor Baelen by knocking him out of the trials.
