by Tate James
“Master Schneider, this is the Lady Callaluna, our last lucky participant in the trials. She was set upon by bandits and, sadly, lost all her luggage on her way here. Can you see she is properly dressed and looking presentable in time for the opening ceremony?” She gave the old man a warm smile, but there was an edge to it that was clear she wasn't asking a question—rather, giving an order.
The old man scowled his feelings on the matter, but stood aside to usher me into the room. When Mistress Mallard didn't follow, I turned to her in panic.
“You'll be fine here, dear, just remember what I said.” She gave me a pointed look and tapped her lips. “I'm off to find you a maidservant.”
“Oh!” I exclaimed, an idea popping into my head. “I have one; she's waiting just outside the north gate. Red hair, blue dress. You can't miss her.”
Mistress Mallard raised her brows at me but nodded and bustled away in a swish of skirts and click of heels, leaving me alone with Master Schneider.
“Why,” the old man croaked, “is your maid out there and not in here with you, hmm?” When my jaw flapped and no sound came out, he waved his hand in dismissal. “Ah, save it. I don't care. We have work to do if you're to be ready for the ceremony. Now, strip out of those clothes and let me see what I'm working with.”
3
Half an hour later—I had no damn idea how he managed it, but somehow—I was stepping out onto a freaking stage with twenty-seven other glittering, primped, floral-smelling girls.
The audience section was crowded with aristocrats and general onlookers. All of them were looking somewhat worse for wear at the end of a long night’s celebration, but for the most part it was well disguised by the elaborate masks they wore.
Wearing masks to court events was a longstanding tradition in Teich. Since it was forbidden for commoners to look upon royalty, it had just become easier over the years to incorporate masks into court attire. That way the royals could be free within their homes without fear of being seen and having to put that person to death.
From what I'd observed, on less formal occasions the masks were more of a suggestion with some ladies merely painting the mask shape on with glittery products, but for events—such as this—the best mask makers in the land were called upon for their finest work.
A herald began reciting his welcome speech, which he'd clearly been working on for a long-ass time, judging by the swell of pride in his chest and the flamboyant way he commanded the stage. But the core message was clear.
“What the hell?” the girl beside me muttered under her breath, much like a lot of the girls were doing. “No one said anything about people going home today; we were invited.”
I stifled an eyeroll and bit my tongue to keep from responding. But seriously, just because they'd been sent an invitation did not mean they were guaranteed anything more than exactly this. A chance.
“So, what?” another girl murmured from somewhere down the line. “We have to be interviewed by the princes, and they will send seven girls home right now?”
“Not interviewed,” someone corrected her. “He said inspected.”
“So, we can't speak to them?” the other girl blurted out, sounding outraged, and the herald spun around to glare at her.
“No,” he hissed. “Of course you can't speak to them. They are the future of this kingdom; you are nothing but eye candy until one of you becomes the future queen.”
“One of us?” the outspoken girl squeaked. “But there are three princes; won't three girls be chosen?” I didn't blame her for this assumption; it was what the city officials had implied when they'd announced the Trials.
“Three cannot rule when King Titus relinquishes the throne, only one can. Therefore, one woman will win this whole affair and one prince will become the next king. Now shut your pretty mouths and let me continue.” The herald's face was hard, and he was not looking for any disagreements or arguments. He was far too good to speak with women... or that was the impression I gathered from the snooty way he turned his back on us once more.
“One by one, these beautiful contestants will be blindfolded, then taken into a private room for Their Royal Highnesses to conduct their inspections. When all are done, seven will go home and twenty-one will stay.” He paused for dramatic effect, and as he'd probably been hoping, the crowd tittered with whispers and speculations. Aana's tits, there was even money changing hands as nobles placed bets on who would stay or go.
Growing up in the Pond as I had, I'd never had need of a mask, but standing up there on the stage and being stared at by so many incognito faces, I almost felt naked with my face exposed.
“Once the seven losers have been sent home, the first Trial will begin,” the herald continued, and a gasp rippled through the room. The first trial wasn't supposed to happen for a week. Tradition dictated the first week be spent training the prospective brides in the ways of the court and enjoying evening meals with the royals. It was a chance to make a good impression, I guessed, or perhaps it allowed the royals a chance to see what sort of people were competing to win the kingdom.
I tuned out on the rest of what he was saying, instead choosing to eye up the ladies and their jewelry. Would it be pushing my luck too far to snatch a piece or two before making my escape?
“Let's begin.” The arrogant herald clapped his hands dramatically, perfectly timed with someone ringing a bell, which made the whole thing just painfully scripted.
Whatever, it really didn't matter. This early elimination was exactly what I needed to get the hell out of this place with my skin intact. All I needed to do was leave an awful first impression, ensuring there was simply no way the princes would select me.
Simple.
Infuriating people in positions of power happened to be a specialty of mine, too.
One by one, girls were blindfolded with a strip of midnight-black silk, then led from the stage and through a small door, which must be where the princes waited.
The girls waiting with me were a jumble of nerves, whispering to each other about how they hoped the princes would like them, or how one of them had heard Prince Alexander's favorite color was blue, so she had an advantage since she'd worn blue. Another was sighing her love for Prince Louis, a man she had literally never set eyes on before. The whole thing was laughable, but I bit my lip to hold it in.
I wanted to tease them that I'd not only spoken with the three royals, I'd almost kicked one in the nuts. But that would have been suicide, so I kept my trap shut.
As my turn drew closer, the skin across my bare shoulders prickled with the unmistakable feeling of being stared at. Scanning the room, it wasn't hard to locate the interested party, and my stomach flipped with fear.
Lord Taipanus, the King's Snake, glared down at me from a viewing balcony. His dark eyes were glued on me and burning with malice. But for what? Had he already worked out that I was an imposter? He'd been sitting there the whole time we'd been onstage, yet his glare had only just turned menacing when I'd turned to look at one of the girls gossiping.
Curious.
The birthmark on my shoulder blade tingled, and I sighed. The odd, silvery mark, which looked more like three matching scars than a proper birthmark, was somehow linked to my intuition. It sometimes tingled when danger was near, but I didn't need any warnings this time. I knew beyond a shadow of doubt that Lord Taipanus was the most dangerous thing in this whole damn city.
And I had caught his attention.
I groaned under my breath and chewed the inside of my lip. The sooner I could insult some royals and get the hell out of the damn palace, the better.
Shaking off the creepy feeling of Taipanus's glare, I stepped forward when the herald called my assumed name and forced myself to stand perfectly still as he tied the heavy silk across my eyes. At least the blindfold would afford me a small amount of anonymity, just in case—Aana forbid—my path ever crossed with the royals in the future.
“This way, Lady Callaluna,” a meek-sounding woman said, taking
“Just here, m'lady,” the woman whispered, stopping me and dropping my hand. The blindfold was secure, and the only sign I had of her departure was a whisper of fabric against stone flooring.
For a long time—too damn long, in my opinion—the room was silent, and I stood there with my fists buried in the full skirt of my dove-gray gown. Finally, I lost my patience.
“Is this it then?” I demanded of the silence, knowing full well I wasn't alone. “This is how you choose who is worthy of your Trials? See who can stay silent the longest?” I snorted a seriously un-ladylike laugh and shook my head. “Well, if it was, then I guess I lost. What a shame.”
A small sound broke the silence, sounding almost like someone smothering a laugh with a cough, and the scrape of boots on stone alerted me to someone approaching me.
For all my bravado and bluster, my insides were twisted up in all kinds of knots as the man stepped into my personal space, so close I could practically feel his body warmth. These were the freaking princes! I needed to hold my tongue before I found myself facing the executioner next to Flick.
“Did Harry not explain the rules of the game to you, My Lady?” The man in front of me spoke, his voice a deep rumble that sent a physical shiver through me from head to toe. I recognized that voice from the alleyway; he was the one who had grabbed me when I'd tried to save Flick.
“Game?” I sneered, unable to help myself. “That's all this is to you, huh? A game. No regard for the fact that your winner will be the next queen of Teich, so long as it’s fun for you three along the way?”
Oh, holy Aana's nipples, Rybet shut the ever-loving fuck up!
My heart just about leapt from my chest when the prince placed a finger under my chin to raise my face, almost like he wanted to look into my eyes—had they not been covered by silk. His touch was electric, his skin almost uncomfortably hot against mine, and I needed to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from gasping aloud.
“A lady of Teich with fire in her belly,” he murmured with an edge of amusement. “Not from Lakehaven, certainly. We would have seen you before at court functions.”
“Lady Callaluna,” another man responded for me, as though reading “my” information off a paper, “from Riverdell. Apparently her retinue was set upon by bandits on their way here, and only herself and her maid survived.” He clicked his tongue, and I heard the sound of papers being tapped on a table. “That fire served her well, it would seem.”
“So it would,” the prince holding my chin captive repeated.
As close as he stood, with his warm breath feathering over my cheekbones, I needed to mentally steel myself to speak without my voice shaking.
“I am standing right here,” I snapped, when I felt confident enough. “I would have thought the royal princes of Teich had better manners than this.”
There was a long pause—within which I possibly pictured at least seventeen different ways they could have me killed before sundown—and then one of the princes burst out in peels of laughter.
As much as I hated to admit it, he had a sexy laugh too, all dark and velvety, and against my better judgement, I could feel a flutter of attraction in my belly. Damn it.
“How very right you are, Lady Callaluna,” this third voice said, his words still rounded by amusement as he approached where I stood with his brother. “I must apologize on behalf of my brothers. We do not socialize with ladies of your standing often, so we do forget our manners. Hopefully, you'll be able to remind us of them in the coming weeks.” This prince circled around behind me as he spoke, and even though none of them touched me more than the fingertip under my chin, I got the distinct impression I was now sandwiched dangerously close between at least two of them.
Still, those words caused me to practically choke on shock and outrage as I sputtered my response. “Excuse me?” I coughed out, jerking my chin out of the first prince's hold and turning in the vague direction of where the third stood. “You mean to keep me here? After I have been so rude to you all?”
“But of course,” number three purred in that velvet-smooth voice, his fingers brushing my long, pale blond braid over my shoulder, then tracing the lines of my birthmark. “Don't you want to stay, Lady Callaluna? After all, isn't it every girl’s dream to become a princess?”
“I, ah...” This time my voice did quiver, and I needed to lick my lips before trying again. Damn them, damn me! Was I really so sex-deprived that just the princes’ physical nearness was turning me into a simpering idiot? “Of course,” I lied, not wanting to push things any further than I already had. “It's all I have ever wanted.”
“Excellent,” number three murmured in approval, brushing his fingers across my bare shoulder blades once more before stepping away—hopefully not noticing the way my body involuntarily leaned toward his touch.
“Wise choice, My Lady,” number one rumbled, his warm thumb stroking lightly across my lower lip before he, too, stepped away.
“Welcome to the Trials, Lady Callaluna,” the second one, the one who'd read out “my” name and origin, called out to me from wherever he sat. “This all suddenly became more interesting, I think.”
At a loss for words and reeling from what had just happened, I didn’t even bother attempting a curtsey before taking the same maidservant's hand as she reappeared to lead me from the room. It was for the best, both as a sign of disrespect and, more importantly, as it saved me from falling flat on my face. That was one thing I’d never really learned how to do—curtsey like a lady.
How in Aana's fortune had that gone so wrong? Instead of getting myself kicked out, I'd just... what? Painted a big old target on my chest?
I groaned to myself as the woman removed my blindfold, and I blinked into the morning sunlight. She'd led me outside to a beautiful courtyard where other ladies sat sipping tea.
“Please make yourself comfortable,” the woman encouraged me. “Lord Taipanus and Lady Savannah will be out shortly to bind everyone to the Royal Trials.”
“Bind us?” I repeated, frowning at her in confusion.
She gave me a smile and a look that said this was information I should surely already know. “Yes, m'lady. Once selected, the hopefuls must swear an oath to the magic of the Trials that they will see them through to the fullest of their abilities and not leave unless given the express permission by the king or queen themselves. It's tradition, ma'am.”
“Oh,” I murmured, giving her a vague nod. “Yes, how could I have forgotten. The... binding oath.” She smiled again, then left me to get to know my new competition.
Binding oath. Well, shit.
4
The oath was just that, and more. There was mention of magical backlash should any lady attempt to break their word, either through leaving without permission or by not giving the Trials their full effort. There would be no half-assing these tests to deliberately get eliminated; everyone was now here to win.
“The first trial begins now and concludes at the end of the week with a final test,” Lady Savannah, an older woman with impeccably styled gray hair and a deep green velvet gown, informed us. She'd pushed her jewel-studded mask up onto her hair, and the age lines around her eyes were clear to see.
A small part of my mind wandered as she spoke, pondering on whether she'd been a part of the last queen's household or if Filamina had brought her on when she ascended the throne.
Technically, King Titus and Queen Filamina were royals in their own right; however, their kingdom had been a much, much smaller land mass than Teich was. When the last queen had been murdered and her daughter disappeared, they’d stepped in to fill the void and had done the best they could to maintain the balance of nature with royal magic.
“This first week focuses on training. Certain skills are required of a royal, so each day, beginning today, you will be given a brief introduction to a new skill and then tested on your mastery of it come sundown. In the evenings, you'll dine with the royals themselves, and that shall be your chance to get to know your prospective husband, lord, and king.” Lady Savannah sounded like she barely even remembered the days when our queen had ruled overall and never took a king. Times sure had changed.
“Ma'am?” One of the girls—a mousy sort of girl who smelled vaguely like ink and parchment—raised her hand tentatively, and Lady Savannah nodded to her. “How will girls be getting eliminated? There are still twenty-one of us here, so I am guessing there is about seven each week who will go?”
“Very observant, Lady...” Savannah trailed off, raising her eyebrows in question.
“Agatha, ma'am. Lady Agatha of Rockford.” The mousy girl announced her title with a hint of pride that made me smile. She clearly loved her home and wasn't ashamed to proclaim it.
Lady Savannah nodded. “Lady Agatha is indeed correct; each night the lady with the lowest competency in that day’s training subject will be eliminated. At the end of the week, there will be a final trial that sums up everything you have learned. The lowest score on that will also go home, but the highest... well, the highest scoring lady will spend the night with one of the princes.”
Girlish giggles broke out among my companions, but I tasted bile. Were they serious? The lucky winner of the first trial got the privilege of spending a night in a prince’s bed like a common whore? What the hell kind of game was this?
“Now, now,” Lady Savannah chuckled, holding her palms up to silence the chatter. “Nothing unseemly, of course. Just a chance for one-on-one time to... talk. Get to know each other without the outside distractions of tests and eliminations.”
I couldn't stop a huge eyeroll at this line. Nothing unseemly? Who was she kidding? Had she never met those three smooth-talking, walking hard-ons?
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