Chapter Fourteen
walk as quickly as I can, trying to put as much distance as possibleI between me, Madame Odell, and the other Tributes. Right now, I’m about one inch tall. I wipe at my cheeks, clearing away the single line of moisture that marks the moment I nearly cracked.
But I can’t crack yet. I have the entire Sun Queen Trials to endure, and I intend to survive.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. I repeat it over and over. Even if they can’t see it, they’ll know. Females like Apricia can smell it. She’s just like Jude was in Nostraza, always digging into every shallow innocuous scrape, forcing them to fester into raw, gaping wounds.
Not paying attention to where I’m going, I find myself in an unfamiliar
part of the palace. But this place is so huge, it’s all unfamiliar. The halls are empty, devoid of the servants usually bustling about their duties.
I have work to do. I need to find a library. Madame Odell said I needed to know Aphelion’s history, and I have a lifetime of learning to cram into my
head, with less than forty-eight hours to do so. I have no time to waste.
I open doors at random, finding them either locked or leading to empty bedrooms, sitting rooms, and salons. Music floats down a hall, and I follow the sound, hoping to find someone I can ask for help.
After I turn a corner, I find myself in a populated part of the palace, golden marble and gilt gleaming in every direction. A set of double doors sits open at
the end of the hall, servants scurrying in and out of a room packed with Fae and humans.
I raise an eyebrow at the sight. It seems the Sun Palace is the venue of endless parties happening at all hours of the day. I know little about entertaining, but I always assumed this kind of celebrating occurred in the evening.
As I approach the fete, I attempt to stop a harried servant to ask where I can find a library, but they brush past me in their haste, ignoring my question.
But they also don’t stop me as I enter the room. This is definitely a party and these people are definitely having a very good time.
Someone plays a piano in the corner while others lounge on settees,
laughing continuously as though they’re telling a joke that never ends. A table laden with colorful treats sits in the center, Fae and mortals feeding each other morsels with their fingers.
A male Fae has a female pressed up against the wall where I enter, her leg wrapped around his waist and her skirt pushed up to expose her smooth bare
thigh. I can’t tear my eyes away as he devours her mouth, his hand sliding under the fabric of her dress as she arches her back and gasps.
They’re not the only ones enjoying themselves. More couples, trios, and
one quartet are in various states of undress and various throes of passion.
Thinking of the incident with Madame Odell makes me even angrier. How
dare she demand chastity from me when this sort of debauchery is going on right in the king’s palace?
It’s then I notice the Fae I was just watching is familiar.
“Gabriel?” I ask and he looks over, nonplussed for a heartbeat, before his confusion morphs into a cocky grin.
“Lor, what are you doing here?” The female he has pressed against the
wall eyes me with disdain, her nostrils flaring delicately.
“Relax,” I tell her. “He’s just my annoying babysitter.”
Gabriel barks out a wicked laugh and steps back from the female, unwrapping himself from her leg and returning her skirt to its normal position. “I apologize,” he says to her. “It seems duty calls. I’ll come find you later.”
She pouts and then leans over to whisper something in his ear that makes his eyes sparkle with anticipation, a grin cracking his face. Tossing one more glare my way, she saunters off, her hips swinging generously. Gabriel watches her ass, his smile never leaving, until she disappears through the crowd.
“This is what you do when you’re not busy with me?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest.
“That’s hardly any of your business, Final Tribute.”
I drop my arms and resist the childish urge to stomp my foot. “Don’t call me that.”
“What do you want, Lor? Why aren’t you doing ladylike things with the others?” He peers at me more closely then, analyzing my face. “Have you been crying?”
“No,” I snap, but it’s obvious I’m lying.
“What happened? Who did that?” he asks, his tone suddenly fierce. If I
didn’t know any better, I’d think he was being protective. That almost sets off a fresh wave of tears, but I close the tap on their flow.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say, grabbing his arm and tugging him out of the room. “I need your help. Madame Odell said the first test is in forty- eight hours and that I’ll need to know my Aphelion history to have a chance.”
Gabriel snorts. “And you don’t know any Aphelion history.”
I roll my eyes. “Is this a talent of yours? Stating the obvious as though it’s some profound revelation?”
He laughs as though I haven’t just insulted him. Must be nice not to care what anyone thinks about you. “So what’s your plan, Tribute?”
“I need a library. With books.”
“As opposed to a library full of squirrels?”
I suck in a deep breath, mining the depths of my patience. “Will you just help me?”
Gabriel ponders for a moment, scratching his chin, his stubble making a rough sound. His blond hair is loose today, brushing just past his chin, and the laces on his shirt expose an expanse of smooth bronzed chest. He’s not as
dazzling as Atlas, but he has a certain appeal. No wonder that Fae was reluctant to let him go.
“I’m not supposed to help you,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “That would be cheating.”
“You won’t. You’re just giving me a tour of the palace.” His expression
turns skeptical. “This contest isn’t fair, anyway. All of those Tributes have been studying for their entire lives. You showing me a library isn’t going to offer me any real advantage.” I pause and inhale deeply. “But I have to try.”
He considers me thoughtfully. “Okay, Tribute. Let’s go.”
I let out a sigh of relief as he strides past, not looking back as I scurry to
catch up. He directs me through several halls and corridors until we reach yet another set of wide doors, these carved from pale yellow wood. One stands partly ajar and we slip inside the room.
What I see makes my heart stop. More of that pale yellow wood has been assembled into hundreds and hundreds of shelves that arch up to a soaring ceiling. A library. A real library.
The only “library” at Nostraza was a single rickety shelf at the back of the mess hall where the occasional new book might have appeared when a guard brought one from home. Since most of the inmates couldn’t read, I always claimed them. I had to make do with reading the same books so many times they nearly fell apart, and I could recite them line for line.
Tristan and Willow could read too, but Willow had little interest in books and Tristan enjoyed reading, but only when he had nothing else to do. Books were my obsession, but I’d never been able to get my hands on enough.
This library exceeded every whimsical fantasy of what I thought a library could be. I run my hands along the shelf closest to me, seeing the titles blur together before my eyes. Romances and adventure books. Medical books and
atlases. Books on religion and ones filled with pictures meant for children. I could spend the rest of my life reading and never get through them all.
Gabriel is watching me with a curious expression. “I’m sorry,” he says, and I furrow my brow at the uncharacteristic softness in his tone. “Had I known you’d like this so much, I would have brought you here sooner.
You’re free to borrow anything you want.”
Scanning the walls of shelves, I feel something twist in my chest. I’ll never get the chance to read them all. I’ll be sent back to Nostraza or to the afterlife
before I get anywhere close.
“I need the history books.” First, there’s the trivia challenge to overcome,
and then I can dream about books. “I’ll start there.”
Gabriel tips his head. “Let’s ask the librarian for help.” A few minutes later, we’re directed to a small alcove lined with books bound in golden leather. It seems even Aphelion’s history echoes the grandeur of this palace and its king.
Gabriel helps me carry a stack of thick volumes to a small table, and I put
another pile down next to them.
Dropping into a chair, I puff a lock of hair out of my eyes. These books are huge. It would take someone months to get through them all, even if they read all day.
The despair on my face must be apparent because even Gabriel is moved to ask, “Is there something I can do to help?”
I shake my head. “You’re not supposed to help me.” I look up at him. “I have to win fairly. They’re going to be looking for reasons to get rid of me.”
His answering nod is grim.
“You’re perceptive, Lor. You may not have grown up at court, but you already understand its ways.”
I’m surprised at the compliment, and an involuntary smile tugs on the corner of my mouth.
I don’t know why I care what he thinks, except something about Gabriel reminds me of Tristan. His irreverence. The way he talks and swaggers like he doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks. In Nostraza, I was terrified that
attitude would get Tristan killed, but instead, he always managed to charm everyone into falling in love with him.
I pull a book off the pile, running my hands over the cover embossed with
scrolls and vines of gold. “The Complete and Unabridged History of Aphelion,” I read, then look up at Gabriel. “I guess this is as good a place as
any to start.”
His face is contemplative. “Good luck. I’ll come and check on you later.”
“Gabriel,” I call, before he leaves. “Thank you.”
He gives me a wry grin. “Don’t thank me, Tribute. If you win, you make me look good. Imagine how it felt when I drew the short straw. The other warders are still ridiculing me for it.”
Then he winks and walks away, laughing as I glare at his wide back and mutter “asshole” under my breath.
Hours later, my eyeballs ache like someone plucked them out, ground them into the sand, and then stuffed them back into my skull. I’ve lost track of the
time I’ve been here, skimming through reams of pages.
Thankfully, there’s a lot of overlapping information, but the history of Aphelion stretches through millennia and there are literally a million things the test could include. Will they expect me to recite the endless legacy of
Aphelion’s kings and queens? Perhaps it will be questions about the area’s primary source of commerce and trade. Maybe they’ll ask about the very Trials we’re competing in, which have a long and sordid history unto themselves. When I’d reached that section, I’d read carefully for a hint of the pact with The Aurora that Atlas had mentioned, but there was nothing. He hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said it was a closely guarded secret.
Gabriel stops to visit every few hours, bringing me food and water and tea, which I accept gratefully. Eventually, Halo and Marici find me where I’m
spread out over a mountain of books.
“Can we help?” Halo asks, sitting down across from me and pulling an open book towards her.
I give her a suspicious look, mistrusting everyone’s intentions. They were nice to me earlier, but they’ve both been pretending I didn’t exist until now.
“Why?”
Halo blows out a breath and leans back in her chair. “I’m sorry about what happened earlier today. That was really unfair.”
I say nothing, waiting for her to continue.
“And I’m sorry we’ve been ignoring you. Apricia—” She looks over at Marici, who is now sitting on the chair next to me, her hands clasped in her lap. “Apricia forbade any of us from speaking with you. Her family is powerful, and she could make life difficult for us if she chose to.”
I look between them. “And?”
“And Apricia is a bitch and I’m sorry we ever listened to her,” Marici says.
“We’re sorry, and we hope you’ll accept our offer of friendship. No one should have to face this contest alone.”
My shoulders collapse. I’m tentatively optimistic about her words and even more furious with Apricia. I could stay mad at Halo and Marici, but I recognize an olive branch when I see one. Right now, I need allies more than
I need to hold on to a grudge.
“Okay,” I say. “I would like that.”
Marici beams, her icy blue eyes sparkling.
“Let us help you,” Halo says, flipping through the book in front of her.
“I’ll show you some techniques my tutors taught me to help remember all
these boring facts.”
Marici giggles, covering her mouth. “Me too. I happen to be an expert on
the royal family.”
Finally, I’ve found some support, even if it took them a while to get there.
But I can’t say no to their help. I need every advantage I can get. “Thank you,” I say, reminding myself to keep up my guard. This could all be a ruse to trick me somehow.
But Halo and Marici exchange a sincere glance and then turn to me, rolling
up their sleeves with determination.
“Okay, tell us where you’ve left off,” Marici says, her voice brooking no nonsense. I point to the page I was reading and set to work, deciding to push aside my reservations for now. For the next few hours, they share their tips, helping me remember the heads of each of Aphelion’s twenty-four districts and the names of the most powerful Fae families.
As my brain expands with more and more facts and figures and dates, they start to jumble like they’ve been dropped into a barrel and rolled down a mountain. Still, I keep reading. Keep making notes. Halo and Marici quiz me until I can recite facts and figures by rote. When they’ve had enough, swaying in their seats from exhaustion, I send them away. But I remain in the
library, still studying, refusing to stop.
After all, one more page could mean the difference between my life and my death.
It’s late at night, the first challenge only hours away, when I awake with a jolt. My face is pressed to a book, and the lantern on the table flickers with
dim light. I know I should go to my bed for a few hours.
It’s then I realize I’m not in the library alone. The king sits across from me, and that causes me to sit up straight. His hand is clasped around my forearm from where he must have nudged me awake.
“Are you okay?” he asks, concern in his clear blue eyes. “It’s late. You should get some sleep.”
“I can’t,” I say, shaking my head and gesturing to the scattered books. “I have to keep studying.”
The king squeezes my arm and my heart squeezes in response. “Gabriel told me you’ve been reading for two days straight.” I nod, wondering if I’ve broken some rule and am about to be scolded. “I’m impressed, Lor. Anyone who shows this much dedication to the Trials would make a worthy queen.”
His encouraging words threaten to uncork the tears I don’t have the freedom to shed. In this vast palace full of cruel mortals and crueler Fae, why is the one person who doesn’t need to be kind making this effort? Atlas must truly be a worthy ruler, and the type of king every citizen of Aphelion deserves.
“I have something for you,” he says, reaching behind his back, his leg pressing against mine under the narrow table. The touch rouses my heartbeat, and Atlas’s gaze shoots to mine before he licks his perfect, luscious lips. I imagine what it might be like to sink my teeth into the bottom one, still feeling the ghost of the gentle kiss he placed at the corner of my mouth a few
nights ago.
Subconsciously, I touch my face in the same spot and his gaze follows my fingers, his eyes darkening as if he understands exactly what I’m thinking.
There’s a brief pause before he places a slim book on the table and pushes it towards me.
“What’s this?” I ask, dragging it closer. Bound in dark green leather, only flecks of the gold embossing remain. I note the absence of a title as I turn it over in my hands.
“A little something to help you out,” Atlas says. “I may have a clue about the first challenge.”
I flip open the book, realizing it’s about Atlas.
“This is your book?” I ask, scanning the pages, wishing there was a way for me to absorb this knowledge simply by the sheer force of my will.
He shrugs his wide shoulders. “There are many biographies of me floating around Aphelion, but very few tell the complete truth.”
I look up at him. “Why is that?”
His smile grows, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that leaves me strangely breathless. In the low light of the library, he’s like a lighthouse standing on a foggy shore, calling ships home.
“It’s not safe for anyone to know too much about me, so I tell different versions of the truth when it suits my purposes. No point in giving anyone information they can use against me.” His hand still rests on my arm and he
drags his fingers along my bare skin, past my elbow and along my shoulder as he watches his hand carefully. My body erupts into shivers, and I hold completely still, wanting to remain frozen in this spell.
His fingers make their slow journey back down the length of my arm.
“Someone I’ve known and trusted for a very long time wrote this particular
edition.” When he reaches my wrist, he circles it with his fingers and flips over my hand before he starts to trace loops in the center of my palm. I try to
focus on his words as he speaks, but my thoughts have burst apart like soap bubbles. “So it holds the real answers of who I am.”
His gaze flicks up to meet mine, those aqua eyes full of something I don’t quite understand. The look is so intense, my insides squirm and snap like ribbons whipping against a strong breeze. But the sensation is far from unpleasant. Rather, it brims with anticipation and the promise of something that tastes like freedom. It’s how I imagine a bird feels soaring over the clouds.
But I need to stop this. I’m being ridiculous and naïve. We barely know each other and I’m no one special. I have to survive so I can get Willow and Tristan out of Nostraza. Nothing else matters.
“Well, it doesn’t seem to be very long,” I joke, trying to dispel the tension.
“Should be pretty easy to get deep into your head.”
I wince, realizing what I’ve just said, but he responds with a low rumbling chuckle and shakes his head, his radiant copper hair glinting in the lamplight.
“Lor, the Sun Queen Trials have never met the likes of you.” He pauses and then leans in close, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I suggest you wear something…practical.”
Before I can react to that statement, he winks and stands. With one last
lingering look I feel to the tips of my toes, he turns and leaves.
