by Elly Blake
“You may rise, Ruby,” she said in Tempesian, surprising me with both her fluency and her willingness to speak the language, presumably as a courtesy to me. “Good evening, Prince Kai.” She invited Kai to sit at her left side and for me to sit next to him.
As Kai pulled out my chair for me, Prince Eiko stood politely. I took a second to examine him more closely. His sable hair was streaked with hints of white, his narrow but handsome face just beginning to soften at the jawline. My attention was arrested by his eyes, a bright shade of leaf green. They seemed to be fixed on the left side of my face, which made my scar feel unaccountably warm. I rubbed it briefly to ease the sting.
As he bowed, he towered over the table. I realized he was perhaps the tallest person I’d ever met, his height accentuated by his lean, almost skinny, frame. I curtsied again and took the seat that Kai held out for me, glad to have the table to hide the fact that I couldn’t stop bouncing my knee. I didn’t know why I was so nervous. The queen had decided to let me take the trials. As long as I didn’t come at her with a fish fork, I didn’t think she would change her mind.
A footman poured the wine, which tasted fruity and smooth but strong. I would have to be careful only to sip it. The queen and Prince Eiko made small talk with Kai as dinner was served, plate after plate of artfully arranged dishes laden with fish, sweet potatoes, pork, rice, and a variety of fruit. I took an experimental bite of a yellow fruit, blinking in surprise at the strong taste: both tart and sugary.
The queen chose that moment to turn her attention to me. “How is your training progressing, Ruby?”
“She learns quickly,” said Kai before I could answer. “And she knows more than I expected. Perhaps almost as much as an initiate after two or three years of training.”
My brows rose at that. He’d seldom praised me, not in actual words.
But the queen continued to look at me expectantly, obviously wanting me to answer as well. As if my answer mattered, which was an about-face from the last time we’d met. Yet her demeanor was surprisingly warm now. Perhaps this was the face she wore for social occasions. Or perhaps she wanted me to let down my guard. Did I dare to hope that I had earned some respect for doing well in my training? She had said her Fireblood masters were vital. If I passed, I would be important to her. To the entire kingdom. The idea sent a little buzz of satisfaction through me. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t here to please the queen. I had my own agenda.
I patted the edges of my lips with a snowy napkin. “Kai is a good teacher.”
“But not a patient one, I reckon,” said Prince Eiko with a twinkle in his eye. “The young prince isn’t known for his calm nature.”
“A true Fireblood,” said the queen proudly. “Though I have told him before that his impulsiveness could well be his downfall. As it has been before.”
Kai inclined his head. “And yet, you’ve been gracious enough to allow me a second chance.”
“Do not fail me this time,” she said.
His face grew serious. “I won’t.”
A footman came forward and refilled our goblets, the crystal reflecting the glow from an enormous fireplace rimmed in black marble. It was strange to think that in northern Tempesia, the first snows would already be weighing down the pine boughs.
The queen must have noticed me staring at the fire.
“It’s symbolic,” she said, taking a sip of her wine. “A fire always burns in the formal rooms of my palace. Night and day, summer or winter, sun or storm. The flame eternal, like the spirits of the Fireblood people. Crush us, beat us, cut us down. We will not be extinguished. We live in the embers and rise again to consume our enemies.”
“That’s…” I searched for the right response. “Very apt.”
“Do you believe it to be true?” Her warm dark eyes fixed on me.
“I hope so, Your Majesty. Though Firebloods in Tempesia were driven away or killed, I like to think we’ll thrive there again one day.”
“As it happens, I share your dream.”
I froze with my goblet halfway to my mouth. “You want Firebloods to return to Tempesia?”
“My islands are many, but the total land is small compared to the kingdom north of the Vast Sea.”
Prince Eiko swirled the wine in his goblet. “Tempesia has inferior soil and a harsh climate.”
The queen inclined her head. “Except for the Aris Plains, which are fertile. When Firebloods began settling in Tempesia, it was still sparsely populated in the south. We brought our farming methods, tilling virgin soil and building homes. You know this, of course.” She raised a brow at me.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“We kept the early frosts from crops, effectively lengthening the growing season. We shared our shipbuilding, our navigation methods. We helped shape that kingdom and, for a time, we worked and lived with them in relative peace. Now they’ve taken our lands in the south and Firebloods were disposed of so the Frostbloods could reap the benefits of our labor. I will fight for our right to those prosperous lands once again.”
It was unclear how she meant to fight for those rights, though. Sudesia, with its smaller population, couldn’t possibly hope to take the lands by force.
Her lips curved. “You wonder why I’m giving you this history lesson?”
I did wonder, but it would be rude to admit that, so I practiced my diplomatic skills. “I find history fascinating. My mother and grandmother taught me some, but there’s much I don’t know. For instance, I don’t know the history of the Frostbloods living in Sudesia. One of my”—I wondered what to call Brother Thistle, settling on the simplest description—“friends is a Frostblood who left here when he was a child.”
Her expression cooled. The idea of a Frostblood as my friend probably stretched her imagination to its limits.
“In any case, let me return to my history,” she continued. “Akur was crowned king, and some say he was driven mad by the murder of his queen by Fireblood rebels.” She leaned forward. “He set out to destroy my people in revenge. So let me ask you this. Why did he not sail across the Vast Sea to conquer my lands?”
“Because of the Strait of Acodens,” I replied.
“And the masters who guard it,” she clarified. “They are the true jewels of the land. Never forget that, should you pass the trials, you will serve as my best defense against attack. Our power lies in unity, not as individuals. My people in Tempesia had no such protection.”
“You still considered them your people?” I asked. “Firebloods who no longer live in Sudesia?”
“Firebloods have always been my people, whether they left Sudesia four days or four centuries ago.” She gripped the stem of her goblet, her dark brows winging down over her fierce gaze. “We lost many ships, many loyal soldiers, in our attempts to save your compatriots from Rasmus’s decree that they should be killed or brought to his arena. Though we were able to save some, most were lost. It is the greatest tragedy in the history of my people. And it happened during my reign. I will not rest until my people are in Tempesia again.”
Her knuckles turned white, her fingers tightening until the crystal stem snapped with an audible crunch. I gasped aloud before I could stifle it. The look in her eyes was murderous.
A footman came and carefully whisked the broken pieces away. A full goblet soon replaced the broken one.
No one batted an eye. Perhaps the queen broke crystal on a regular basis.
Again, I wondered if the Minax was possessing the queen. I checked my senses for any sign of it, but found none—aside from a tingle on the back of my neck, which could merely be nerves. My eyes were drawn to her wrist to check the color of the vein, but her long sleeves kept me from confirming whether it was a natural red or the inky black of possession. I sipped my wine and tried not to show how much her unbridled fury had shaken me. She was passionate, but with that came unpredictable behavior. It was a reminder that my current freedom was based on her whims.
“You alone were blessed by Sud to surv
ive the massacre of our people, Ruby.” I met her eyes as she added, “Your mother, I heard, was not so fortunate.”
I clasped my hands tightly in my lap, my stomach lurching. “That’s right.”
“I’m sincerely sorry,” she said.
“Thank you.” I cast my eyes downward. My hands were trembling and cold. This conversation had gone on far too long and I just wanted it to end.
“But let us turn to more pleasant matters.” She sipped and asked smoothly, “Prince Kai, has your aunt found a suitable bride for you yet?”
Though a change in subject was welcome, it was startlingly abrupt. And it didn’t seem like this was a pleasant topic for Kai. He had the look of a cornered rabbit as he replied, “Aunt Aila understands that I do not wish to rush into marriage. I am barely eighteen summers, Your Majesty.”
It surprised me that we were almost the same age. All that restless swagger made Kai seem older, especially since he was so confident as captain of his ship. Then again, Arcus was king and he wasn’t much older. His serious demeanor always made him seem more than a few years my senior.
“Indeed, but the most powerful among us have a duty to produce heirs, as you know. It is good to start young. You have seen how it is with me. I cannot have children and the succession is now uncertain.”
Kai paused for several moments. “I will give the matter serious consideration, Your Majesty.”
“Perhaps since your mother is no longer alive and your aunt has not found the right woman, I may be of assistance in finding you a bride.”
His eyes widened. I stifled a laugh at his expression, relieved the conversation had lightened.
“You’re most generous,” he muttered, downing his drink.
The plates were cleared and dessert was served, tiny iced cakes and tarts filled with sweet berries and cream. In what I deemed a transparent attempt to ward off any further talk of nuptials, Kai carried the conversation, steering it into neutral territory. I pasted on an interested expression and tuned everyone out, mentally reviewing my plans.
“You have much on your mind,” Prince Eiko said, leaning forward across the table and speaking in a low voice so as not to interrupt Kai’s conversation with the queen.
I hoped the worry hadn’t shown on my face.
He added, “You must be nervous about your trials.”
“Yes, a little,” I admitted, glad that I had a reasonable excuse for anxiety. “I’m sorry if I was inattentive.”
He waved away the apology. “It’s only natural. Anyone would be preoccupied on such a night. And it’s difficult not knowing what to expect, isn’t it?”
He glanced at the queen, who was still engaged in conversation with Kai, and leaned in further. “I can tell you a few things without breaking any oaths. If you like.”
“Please,” I said, wondering why he would want to help me. What did he have to gain?
He pressed his fingers together, reminding me a bit of Brother Thistle when he was about to give a lecture. “Each trial tests a different ability, so the first, second, and third trial are all quite different from each other. They’re meant to push you to your limits so that only the strongest of Firebloods will have a chance of passing. However, strength of the gift does not guarantee success. There are other factors that come to bear on your success or failure.”
“What kind of factors?” I asked.
“Some of them are physical, like endurance, agility, or skill. Some things are mental, such as adaptability and perseverance. Your will, your decisions, can play a large role in the trials.”
Suddenly, I noticed the table had fallen silent. I glanced up to see the queen watching Prince Eiko.
“You come very close to revealing too much, my dear,” she said in silken tones. “She will find out more tomorrow, and that is soon enough, I think.”
Prince Eiko sat back, looking chagrined. “Of course.”
“Best of luck tomorrow, Ruby,” Queen Nalani said as she rose to her feet. Prince Eiko, Kai, and I stood as well.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I replied with a curtsy, when a question occurred to me. “Your Majesty, when you were telling me your history, you never mentioned what happened to the Frostbloods living in Sudesia. Perhaps next time, you can tell me more.”
She smiled, but it was cold, as if it were ice and not fire that ran through her veins. “Why, child, I assumed you knew. When it was clear that my people in Tempesia were lost to me, I rounded up all the Frostbloods living in my kingdom. Some of them became indentured servants, like my loyal Renir.” She gestured to one of the footmen standing against the wall and I blinked hard. How had I missed that? His eyes were a pale grayish blue, subtle but definitely the mark of a Frostblood.
“And the ones who refused to go into service?” I asked curiously, forcing myself not to stare.
She captured my gaze, her irises as cold and opaque as prison walls.
“I ordered my Fireblood masters to execute them all.”
THIRTEEN
THAT NIGHT, I WAS PACING THE plush, richly patterned carpet in my room when a soft knock sounded at my door. I opened it to see Kai, still dressed, a cup in each hand. “May I come in?”
Conscious of the thin fabric of my nightgown, I crossed my arms over my chest and backed up. “I suppose.”
“Can’t sleep?” he asked, shutting the door with his foot.
I shrugged.
“Neither could I the night before my first trial.” He held out a cup. “To ease your nerves.”
“Is this tea or wine? I need to be sharp tomorrow.”
“Which means you need sleep. Just a few drops.”
I sighed and took the cup. He clinked his against mine. “To becoming a master.”
“Are we toasting you or me?”
He grinned. “Both.”
All was darkness outside the glow of my single candle. The emptiness pressed against us as if it wanted to swallow us whole. For all I knew, this night was my last, the last time I’d feel the comfort of a bed, the last time I’d dream my dreams and think about the person I cared for most in this world. I’d written a letter to Arcus after dinner, telling him things I’d never had the courage to say to his face. Hot tears had fallen, making a mess of the ink and sizzling tiny holes in the parchment. I hoped he’d forgive me. For that and for everything else.
I pushed the thoughts of Arcus away, at least as much as I could. He was never far from my mind.
“You’re confident I’ll pass, then?” I asked, my stomach knotting. I recognized the nerves—they were the same I’d felt every time I’d had to enter King Rasmus’s arena.
He gave me a reproving look. “I wouldn’t have wasted my time this week if I thought you couldn’t pass.”
Not as reassuring as I’d hoped, but maybe that was high praise from Kai. After all, he’d failed at least one of the tests.
“Did you pass the first trial?”
“Of course. I passed the first two trials, which is why I don’t have to retake them.” He took a drink and then stared at his cup, swirling it gently. I watched his dense lashes, several shades darker than his hair, cast shadows on his cheeks. He looked almost melancholy, which was so unusual for him that my heart squeezed a little.
I took another sip. “Do you ever consider how cruel the trials are? They’re risking the lives of anyone who isn’t strong enough. I see little difference between this and the Frost King’s arena.”
“The trials are a choice,” he said defensively. “No one is forced to take them. And there are ways out of the first trial for anyone who realizes they’re not strong enough to finish.” He snapped his mouth closed, as if realizing he’d said too much. “However, if you leave, you forfeit, and you’ll never be allowed to take them again.”
“Unless I bargain with the queen like you did. Oh, wait, you’re the exception to all rules.” I forced a smile.
“Indeed.” He lifted his goblet to me in acknowledgment, his lips curving, then drained it and set the goblet dow
n. “Well, I suppose I should let you get some sleep. I don’t want to be the reason you’re fatigued on the most important day of your life.”
“Before you go, I have a favor to ask.” I went to my dressing table and picked up the rolled-up parchment. “If I don’t make it out of my trial, I’d like you to make sure this gets back to Tempesia.”
Kai frowned at the scroll. “To whom?”
“Arcus,” I said simply.
He frowned and didn’t move to take the letter.
“Just get it to him.” I pressed it into his hand. “It’s a last request. You do honor last requests here, don’t you?”
“We try.”
“Thank you.” I paused. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t read it.”
He looked offended. “I wouldn’t do that.”
I nodded, feeling a little awkward, though I didn’t know why. We stood in silence for a few moments more.
“You will pass tomorrow,” he said, his eyes bright with warmth. “Just stay calm. Remember your training.”
I tipped my cup, drank in a series of gulps, and offered it, empty, to Kai. “Thanks for the drink.” Craving oblivion, I turned and crawled into bed to settle under the covers.
“Sleep well, little bird,” he said, shutting the door with a quiet click.
The carriage wheels creaked in the predawn hush, depositing Kai and me at the school as sunrise bruised the sky. Master Dallr waited in the entryway. As we came closer, he held up one calloused palm to Kai, who halted beside me.
Kai took my hands briefly in his. He looked at Master Dallr and then bent to my ear. “Lava will burn the flesh off your bones—you or any Fireblood. Don’t hesitate. Don’t look back.”
I looked at him sharply. My already elevated pulse sped up even more. Was he breaking his oath by telling me something about the trial? His gaze was dark, intense. I dipped my chin to show him I’d taken note. His fingers tightened before letting go. I turned and followed the Fireblood master without looking back. My stomach was a tight knot of nerves, but my mind was clear and determined.
