He shook his head. “It’s nothing. Bloodshade is a weed that grows easily. But...” He turned to the shelf to his right, retrieved a small, square packet from a box, and handed it to me. “This is smartweed. All the girls in the White Board and Black Board purchase it. If anyone asks why you were here, you can tell them you came in for this.”
“What does it do?” I asked.
Mr. Oakes flushed. “It prevents you from getting with child.”
“Oh!”
My cheeks grew so hot I felt like a street lamp. “I... I won’t need this.” I tried to give it back.
“Keep it,” he said firmly. “It’s the perfect excuse.”
“I see.” I put the small paper packet away.
“Ten Chekes,” he said, all business now.
I paid him and thanked him again.
“When you need more,” he said, returning to the work I’d interrupted when I first came, “come at the same time and wait until no one is inside.”
I nodded and thanked him one more time, but he wasn’t paying attention anymore. He had dismissed me and seemed ready to be rid of me. He had more than one reason to want me out of his store. One, I was wearing the White Queen’s uniform. Two, I was a Trove.
We had a right to distrust each other. Though perhaps I was the one taking the bigger risk. One word from him, and I would end up a slave. But I had no other choice but to trust him. Without bloodshade, I would be discovered anyway. But what about him? The few Chekes he’d taken from me wouldn’t make him rich. So why would he risk so much for someone he barely knew?
With a bow, I turned and left Oakes Apothecary. The bell above the door tinkled as I left, a gentle sound that punctuated my desperate desire to run and hide the proof of my crime.
CHAPTER 13
I crossed the street away from the apothecary at a fast clip, so intent on getting back to The Bad Bishop that I didn’t notice the dark figure hiding under the shade of one of the opposing buildings.
Guided by instincts I didn’t know I had acquired, my hand flew to the sword at my waist. I was about to draw it out when I recognized the would-be assailant.
Nyro.
“Hello,” he said as if we were acquaintances, but I didn’t befriend thieves... or Blackies.
I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to ignore how he cut an impressive figure in his black uniform. Instead, I twisted my mouth in distaste, a message to let him know I wanted nothing to do with him. Then, hand still on the hilt of my sword, I continued on my way.
“You joined the Whities and lost your manners?” he asked, matching my step down the sidewalk.
“Thieves demanding manners,” I mused. “What nerve!”
“I have to say, the uniform suits you.” He leaned back, taking a suggestive look at my posterior.
Outraged, I whirled and slapped him, or at least I tried. He was too fast and caught my wrist before my hand could connect with his face. I pulled away, anger swelling in my chest. He was smiling crookedly, regarding me with amusement.
“Leave me alone,” I growled and continued on.
He walked by my side as I tried to ignore him. If I didn’t talk to him, he would get bored and leave me alone.
My patience only lasted to Castling Park.
“Stop following me!” I demanded.
“I’m not following you,” he said. “I’m walking right next to you. Besides, you should be grateful. A lady shouldn’t be out by herself at this hour.”
“Thief. Challenger. Protector,” I said in a mocking tone. “You certainly are multifaceted.”
“I do my best,” he said.
I rolled my eyes and gestured toward my sword. “I do not need your protection.”
“You do... if you are purchasing bloodshade.”
My mouth went dry. “I... I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He smiled knowingly and resumed walking, leaving me standing there, blinking at a park bench.
How did he know? Who would he tell? He was nothing but a thief. He would become a rich man if he turned me in.
Oh, gods.
I caught up to him, wondering what to say, how to beg so he wouldn’t run to King Maximus to claim his reward.
“Is it for you?” he asked without looking at me.
“Is what for me?” I said in a small croak that probably gave me away.
“Mr. Oakes sells bloodshade to me, too,” he said. “Has for a long time.”
My heartbeat echoed in my ears. Nyro was a Trove?
“It’s not for me,” he said as if guessing my question. “It’s for... someone important to me.”
Why was he telling me this? It was probably a lie to get me to admit I was a Trove.
“I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. “I was there to purchase something else.” I thought of mentioning the smartweed, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, so I just added, “Something personal.”
He stopped and faced me. When I continued on, he put a hand on my arm to stop me. My eyes darted to his fingers, then back up to his eyes, sending a silent “take your hands off me” message.
He kept his hand right in place. His dark gaze locked on mine. “Why did you become a Challenger?”
“Why did you? I didn’t think they accepted thieves.”
He sighed and removed his hand from my arm, clearly aggravated. “You need to stop calling me that. I told you my name.”
“Nyro, I know.” I don’t know what made me acknowledge the fact, but it felt important.
He blinked, lips parting. “You remember.”
I nodded. For a brief instant, he had been part of that world I’d left behind, a life in which strolling down the market with Talyssa was fun and easy, and buying pretty flowers for a vase was the most important event of the day.
“You were so beautiful that day,” he said, surprising me. “Red looks good on you. I knew you were watching me.”
His hand reached for mine, and I was too stunned to pull away. A thrill ran up my arm as his thumb caressed the top of my fingers. Something stirred in my middle, a wild restlessness I’d never felt.
“I couldn’t believe you’d noticed me,” he continued. “The gorgeous girl in the red dress, her skin like honey, her eyes near onyx. I wanted to talk to you, but...” he took a step closer, “I knew it wasn’t my place. You, a lady, and me...”
He licked his lips. I swallowed, hypnotized by his intense gaze and velvet-soft voice.
“And now... enemies,” he said, breaking me out of the spell. He let go of my hand, and I clenched it into a fist.
“I can’t imagine what caused you to join the White Queen,” he said, “but I know it must be hard for you. It’s not the life for a lady.”
“I... thank you for your concern,” I said, sounding stiffer than I intended. “But I’m doing just fine.”
“I can see that.” Nyro nodded. “I’m glad. But be careful... with the bloodshade.”
I was opening my mouth to say something, when I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. With a jerk, I glanced down the road and saw Vinna and Alben a few yards away, staring in our direction.
“Um, I should go,” I said, turning and taking a few steps away from Nyro.
“Wait,” he said.
I glanced over my shoulder.
“Tell me your name.” There was a certain longing in his face, as if my name would give him a key to something that should forever be kept out of his reach.
“Bianca,” I said.
He nodded, satisfied. “I hope to see you again, Bianca.”
“Me, too.” I’d barely finished saying the words when—like a child who has done something wrong—I turned and ran toward Vinna and Alben.
“Was that a Blackie you were talking to?” Vinna asked, her voice a drunken slur.
“It was,” I said. “I know him, from before.”
“Well, that’s unfortunate,” she added, rubbing her face and swaying to one side.
“Yes, it i
s,” I said. “Let’s go.” I slipped Vinna’s arm over my shoulder, turning her in the direction of the White Palace. “It’s late, and you’re drunk.”
“Where’d he go?” Alben said, blinking into the night.
I followed his gaze to where Nyro had been standing. He was gone.
“One minute he was there, and the next, puff,” Alben said, following us with heavy, staggering steps.
“He tends to do that,” I said, as we made our way back to our regimented lives.
CHAPTER 14
The last few weeks of my training flew by. I wanted more time to prepare for this, but eight weeks was all they allowed. The contract even stated this date as the date my challenge should take place, if possible.
The other Challenger ahead of me, Miron, had come and gone, easily defeated by Skender. Not surprisingly, Mr. Piggy Eyes hadn’t pardoned him. He’d been sent to Queen Lovina to become another meal, which gave me a clear image of my fate if I didn’t defeat the bully today.
I very much doubted he would pardon me, even though I hadn’t said anything about his relationship with Breen. But that was inconsequential, I had to win. I’d even laid out the ground work for my next challenge with Alben as a way to assure myself that I would beat Skender.
Sweat trickled down my back in an unladylike manner. I’d only just changed, and my shirt was already soaked. I slipped on my jacket, making the nervous sweat that had assaulted me even worse.
“It’s time,” Vinna announced.
I followed her out of the dormitory, and we walked toward the Challenge Hall. When we arrived, all the Pawns and Challengers were already there, including Skender.
“Good luck,” Vinna whispered with a pat on my shoulder.
Alben gave me a thumbs up. “I hope yeh win.”
I nodded. I had to win. My plan was in motion, but oh, gods, I didn’t feel ready for this!
Swallowing the tight lump in my throat, I walked toward the center of the painted chessboard. I stopped in front of the pedestal that held the Challenge Vessel—I’d learned its official name since last time—and stood across from Skender. He wore a satisfied smile that was clearly meant to be a threat.
After merely a beat had passed, he quickly proceeded to stick his hand inside the vase. I didn’t mind his haste, however. The suspense was terrible. I’d been on pins and needles for the last week, and I was ready to conclude this ordeal. If I ended up being the main dish at dinner time tonight, so be it. The Queen would drain me, and she would never discover I was a Trove because of the bloodshade in my veins.
Skender pulled out his hand, bringing the small, receptacle box out with him. Still holding the same smile, he handed it to me.
Please don’t be a Knight. Don’t be a Knight.
That was all I asked, all I’d been praying for since I learned what type of challenge drawing a Knight piece would entail.
With a deep breath, I opened the box.
The piece was, indeed, a Knight. I was as good as dead.
CHAPTER 15
I looked at the stubborn mare in the eye.
“You have to listen today. You can’t stop to eat weeds. My life depends on it.”
The horse snorted as if to let me know what she thought of my pathetic life. Honestly, the mare had a better life than me. It had a roof over its head, food, someone—namely me—to clean after her. I even had to brush her ugly mane and stinky tail every day.
“If I die, there’ll be no one to clean up after you,” I said, as if the beast could understand, as if it were true.
I sent a worried glance in Vinna’s direction. She nodded and smiled in encouragement.
The sky was as blue as the irises Talyssa and I had planted early this summer, and not a cloud marred its beauty.
Not a bad day to die, I thought.
“What are you waiting for?” Skender leered at me from atop his horse. His bristly hair was standing on end as stiff as brambles.
With a sigh, I climbed my horse and pulled on the reins. The creature was nipping at a tiny patch of grass on the ground and took her sweet time to rear her head and go to the start line, where Skender already waited, the satisfaction in his eyes as sickening as horse dung.
Breen, the First Pawn in our Quadrant and Skender’s illicit girlfriend, stood next to the start line, holding a checked flag. We were on the oval track, where we rode each morning.
“Ready?” she asked.
Skender nodded. I did the same even though I felt anything but ready. We only had to race for one lap, but it might as well have been miles and miles for all the good my horse would do.
Breen pointed the flag toward the blue sky, then cried out, “Semper Lumen.” The flag fell to the ground as she let it go.
Skender’s horse leapt as he viciously struck its rump with the crop, then took off at a full gallop.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled and, also, struck my horse in the rear.
The beast let out a loud neigh and, for once, did as she was supposed to. Still, Skender had gained the advantage and was quickly turning the first bend.
“Beat him, please!” I pleaded with my horse. “You can do it.”
To my utter surprise, the mare sped up, gaining enough on Skender that I could have reached out and touched him. Just then, he glanced under his arm and spotted me. His eyes widened, looking as if they might pop out and roll onto the track.
With a growl, he raised his crop and struck his horse harder than before. The animal cried out and lurched forward, kicking up dust into my face. I coughed, my throat clogged with dirt.
Wincing, I raised my own crop, but I couldn’t bring myself to strike the animal again. If, to win, I had to hit the mare as hard as Skender had hit his mount, then I would lose. I couldn’t be that cruel, no matter how many headaches the animal caused me. No one deserved to be mistreated that way.
So instead, I pressed closer to her, leaning forward and patting her neck.
“Good job so far,” I said. “But I need you to try harder. Do you think you can do that?”
Of course, the mare didn’t try harder. Instead, she started to slow down.
“No!” I screamed. “Go faster, faster!” I kicked my heels into her sides. “C’mon, girl. You can do this.”
At this, the horse snorted and picked up her pace.
“Yes! That’s it. Faster, faster, girl,” I said.
Her legs pumped, hooves tearing the ground. The wind hit my face, sending wisps of hair in all directions. Heat and energy shot into my veins, and I started to feel as if I were flying.
Soon, we approached Skender on his right and caught up with him. For a moment, we galloped head to head, then started to turn the last bend. White uniforms waited at the finish line.
Skender beat his mount mercilessly, one strike after the next. The horse gained additional speed, trying to run away from the monster that kept tearing at its hind quarters.
“C’mon, c’mon, girl. You can do this,” I encouraged my horse.
She sped up, and as impossible as it seemed, we got a nose ahead of Skender.
“Good girl,” I said, patting my horse’s neck. It was slick with sweat, and her breaths came hard and ragged.
Hooves beat the ground like thunder. Then, Skender caught up to us again, making me realize we were going to lose. He had the better horse. Mine was tiring already, unaccustomed as she was to doing more than snacking on weeds.
But it seemed the mere possibility of winning wasn’t enough for my opponent, and to make sure of our loss, he switched the crop to his right hand and violently swung it at my horse’s face.
With a cry of pain, the mare careened to the side and collided with Skender’s mount. I cried out in turn as my leg was caught between the two animals. Skender’s horse lost its footing and, tripping on its own legs, fell with a crash of bones and wild shrieks of pain.
As if he weighed no more than a feather, Skender flew off his horse.
A prayer caught in my throat. I hugged my mare’s neck
and shut my eyes, waiting to be thrown off or crushed under the weight of the animal. Neither came. Instead, my mount slowed down and, finally, came to a stop.
I sat there, pressed to her slick body, for what felt like an eternity. At last, I opened my eyes and sat straight, glancing around. Skender and his horse were on the ground—the animal’s legs twitching, while Skender lay immobile.
Trembling, I dismounted and limped toward my opponent.
“Skender,” I croaked.
He didn’t respond.
A moment later, I reached him, then turned away with a gasp of horror. His neck was bent at an odd angle, and his eyes stared blankly toward the blue sky, reminding me of Papa, and the way his vacant gaze had been lost to the nothingness of a world beyond, a place where I could not reach him.
CHAPTER 16
I limped back to my horse. She spooked a bit and tried to get away.
“Shh, it’s all right,” I said in a soothing tone as I took hold of her reins.
Angling her long face in my direction, I inspected the damage Skender’s strike had caused. Blood seeped from a large cut above her eye. The eyelid was shut, covered in crimson and already swollen.
“Oh, gods,” I said, the sight turning my stomach.
Would the poor animal lose her eye? I caressed the side of her face and spoke sweet nothings as I hugged her neck.
Rushing steps pulled me out of my despairing thoughts. I glanced up to find all the Pawns rushing in our direction.
Vinna arrived first, panting and looking almost as spooked as I felt.
“Are yeh all right?” She looked truly concerned. It warmed my heart and made me feel less lonely to have someone worry for my safety.
“I’m fine. My leg is a little bruised. That’s all.”
“Gods damn,” Breen exclaimed, her gaze fixed on the fallen horse, ignoring Skender. “We’ll have to put the beast down,” she said, never glancing at her lover. After a long moment, she snapped out of it and whirled to face me. “What exactly happened?” she demanded, accusation in her expression.
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