Chapter 14
ou know what you said about putting a slit in my dress? How would‘Y you feel about doing it to yours? I think it would be the perfect final touch.’ I haven’t yet been allowed to see my reflection, though I know the dress Llinos finally decided on is black at the bottom and red on top. ‘These dresses are incredible,’ she said as she rummaged through the wardrobe. ‘They need a bit of updating, but still, the fabrics are so on point.’ ‘Feel free to borrow them,’ I replied, assuming ‘a bit of updating’ was a major understatement and Llinos was just being kind. ‘Really?’ Her eyes bugged with delight before her face fell. ‘My little sister Carys chose my first couple of ball dresses, so I feel like I have to wear them first, you know? But maybe I could wear one to one of the later
balls?’ ‘Absolutely.’ While I put on the dress she’s picked out, she heads back downstairs to her room to get yet another item: an actual garter sheath. She returns with the leather in her hands. ‘There’s no way I’ll cope, knowing there’s a grubby old belt strapped around your thigh,’ she says, handing it to me before twisting me around to take hold of the corset ribbons on my dress. Only when she’s yanked so hard it feels like she’s cracked a couple of ribs does she spin me back around to face her. ‘Now, what do you say about that slit? ’ I can’t imagine anyone choosing the Cotillion ball as an opportunity to attack each other, but who knows? And there’s not much point to having my
dagger sheathed on my thigh if I’ve got to hoist up my entire dress to reach it. ‘Go for it,’ I say and watch the grin spread across Llinos’s face. It’s worth desecrating the dress for that alone.
Without waiting for me to change my mind, she grabs her own dagger and slices the fabric of the dress all the way to the top of my thigh.
Standing, she looks me up and down. ‘Do you have any fighting shorts?’
she asks. ‘Fighting shorts?’ ‘Just plain black leather. I’ve got an idea.’
‘Okay …’
‘Do you need me to get you a pair?’ ‘No, I’ve got some.’ Leather shorts are one of the few items of clothing I have left from my mother, and they were among the first things I packed to come here. I slip some on under my dress, then turn back to Llinos, who has her dagger waiting. She slides it up the other side of the skirt, then along the stitches of my waistband. A large swath of the dress’s skirt comes away in her hand. ‘I like it. Really like it.’ She grins. ‘Go. Have a look.’ With an unexpected flutter of nerves, I head into the bathroom, only to do a double take at my image.
There’s still that element of weariness in my face that Llinos mentioned earlier, but the way she styled my hair does a good job of hiding it. My gaze quickly trails down the rest of my body. The top of the dress is a deep burgundy velvet corset that’s been pulled so tight that, for the first time in my life, I’ve actually got curves. And while the leather skirt balloons out, the panel that’s been taken from the centre reveals more than just a glimpse of my shorts and garter sheath. It is by far the most striking thing I’ve ever seen, let alone worn. ‘You’re not going to go unnoticed like that.’ She smirks, and I can’t help but agree. She was right about fixing the dagger in my hair. Combined with the leather of the shorts and the dagger on my thigh, I don’t look like someone you’d want to fuck with. Though hopefully the incident with Zara has already confirmed that. ‘Can I help you get ready?’ I ask Llinos, aware of just how unconfident I sound. Neither my hair nor my clothing skills are half as good as hers, and I get the feeling she knows it.
‘Don’t worry,’ she says. ‘It won’t take me long, though I’ll probably need to hurry the guys. You know how they like to preen and pamper themselves. Well, Benny does, at least. See you in the dining room in
twenty?’ ‘Sounds good,’ I reply with a chuckle.
It’s only when she goes that I see the raven has returned and is tilting his head as he looks at me. ‘It’s a ball, okay?’ I snap, not sure if talking to a raven can cause even worse luck than one simply appearing in your presence. ‘This is what people wear to balls. I think.’ As I finish speaking, he flutters his wings before taking flight and leaving me alone. The twist of fear in my chest is accompanied by an undeniable surge of adrenaline.
As much as Llinos’s comment about not going unnoticed unnerved me at first, I think it might actually be useful. Because it means the king and the prince are likely to notice me among the crowd of competitors.
It’s time they realise exactly who Etta let into this tournament.
MANAGING THE RICKETY, impractical stairs in the skirt is even harder than scaling a damn wall, and my nerves definitely aren’t helping. Given that I now have a small cluster of people I feel relatively safe in front of, I should be feeling slightly less fearful, but instead, my throat is growing drier and drier with every breath, and by the time I reach the bottom of the staircase, I wish I’d had a drink of water. But there’s no way I’m going back up. My best bet, I decide as I continue down the narrow – but substantially less perilous – servants’ staircase, is to get myself a glass of water in the kitchen where I met Llin and the others earlier.
Jai is the only member of the group already in the dining hall, and after offering him a quick nod of acknowledgement, I head for the kitchen … only to find my route blocked.
For a split second, he doesn’t see me – he’s too focused on the bottle of drink that he swigs from like he’s suffering from an uncontrollable thirst – and I stand frozen, my stomach somersaulting at the sight of his familiar icy-blue eyes.
He’s not dressed for a ball – hell, he’s barely dressed at all – and I can’t help the way my eyes scan his upper body – the hard muscles that carve his flesh and the tattoos rippled over them. His skin is decorated with scars, but rather than mar him, they seem to highlight all his perfections. Never have I known my body to react so instinctively and viscerally to a man.
His eyes find mine and he drops the bottle from his lips. ‘Kultavaris?’ His voice is just as deep and gravelly as I remember, but the use of my
name causes my heart to jolt. ‘You know who I am?’ ‘Everyone knows who you are, daughter of the Queenkiller.’ He waits a beat, then slowly and deliberately drags his gaze down my body, lingering on my exposed legs. Heat flickers in his eyes, dark and hungry, and I feel the pull between us coil tighter, as if the air is contracting, eliminating the space between us. ‘That’s one hell of a dress. Not trying to fit in with the
ladies of the court, are you?’ ‘I’m not here to make friends.’ His expression tightens. ‘No, you’re here to die.’ ‘I’m here to win,’ I snap back.
He laughs, the sound patronisingly amused. ‘You’re a lamb among wolves. I don’t know what the fuck Etta was thinking, letting you in. You’re doomed.’ ‘You’re hardly the first person to tell me that today, yet Zara Duarte is the one holed up with the healers, and I’m standing here, enjoying this riveting conversation,’ I spit out, hating the condescending tone of his voice. Hating that anyone has written me off so easily.
His eyebrows rise. ‘Is she now?’ He looks at me, his gaze now appraising instead of hot. ‘Well, well. Perhaps the rose has some thorns after all.’ He takes another swig from the bottle and pushes off the wall he’s been leaning against before staggering deeper into the kitchen, no doubt hoping to find more drink. He’s drunk before the Retterheld has even begun, and yet he thinks I’m the one who’s going to die out there?
Frissons of something I don’t want to name continue to roll through me as I watch him go, unable to haul my eyes away from his back. Those perfect black circles etched in his skin. Only once I’m sure he’s gone do I make my way into the hall to join the others. My need for a drink is all but forgotten, a very different type of thirst having taken over.
‘WOW, ROSE.’ Coulter’s jaw hangs loose when he sees me walking over to join them. My interaction with the blue-eyed problem was evidently just long enough for them all to gather. ‘You look amazing.’ ‘Thank you. As do you.’ He drops his gaze to the ground as the tops of his ears colour bashfully.
I’m not the only one who’s stepped their attire up a notch. Llinos is in a bright red dress that must have a train twice as long as mine, while the boys are wearing black shirts with sharp dinner jackets. They all look impressively smart, though there’s something about the cut and stitching of Benny’s – not to mention the deep purple hue and the gold accents – that makes it look a grade above the rest. The quiet confidence I sensed from him before has been kicked up another notch. ‘I guess we’re not the only group who thought to meet here first,’ Loch says. ‘Though I think a few groups have already moved on.’ He’s right. Four distinct clusters have formed around us, one with notably older participants than the others. It’s the biggest group, with around a dozen people. Knights. Each one of them is ripped, with taut muscles displayed even from the women’s backless ballgowns. Unlike the group I find myself attached to, these men are shirtless beneath their jackets, revealing the intricate designs of their chest tattoos: circles of Wrohelm, the chevrons of Rowell, and the three bands of Dorain, all intertwined with various symbols. Not just for their Gods, but for their families, too. Their personal desires. But all of them have one thing in common: the lined symbol of a wolf. They are all bonded, which means to be here, they must be separated from their dire wolves. I wonder if it hurts or if it’s like the separation I feel from Kay – a dull throbbing behind my ribs.
Thankfully, I don’t recognise any of the faces in the other groups, so either the Rowell Rettlings have already left or they’re not ready yet.
Assuming Zara even makes it to the ball. I don’t know how long it would take healers to work on burns like that, but I can’t imagine it would be quick. ‘So shall we get going?’ Llinos loops her arm through mine. ‘First ball of the trials. Ready?’ The knot in my stomach says no, but it’s Jai who answers.
‘Let’s get the fucking parade started,’ he grunts.
As we start the march across the courtyard and towards the palace, the cold wind bites at my arms and I wish I’d brought some sort of shawl to cover them. I’ll remember for next time .
Assuming I make it to one of the other balls, that is. ‘You feeling okay?’ Llinos mutters to me. ‘You know he’s going to be there, right?’ My stomach squirms. I don’t need to ask who ‘he’ is. While I’m sure an exception will be made for Zara, I can’t imagine the king would be too happy if his only son missed the event. Which means that for the first time since he had us stripped, I’m going to be face-to-face with Prince Kyor. At least I have allies with me. That’s something, right? ‘Holy shit. They don’t do things like this on the islands,’ Coulter says as we step into the outer atrium of the place. ‘Korvane must be broke if he spends all his money on stuff like this.’ ‘Not when it’s the other cities’ taxes he spends,’ Loch bites back.
Llinos shoots him a look. ‘As we have discussed numerous times, I can accept that one, or even most of us, might get killed in the trials,’ she says, ‘but I will not accept it if you get yourself killed because you piss off a member of the royal family. Or anyone in this court. Keep your tongue civil. Got it?’ A low rumble of noncommittal noises drifts from Loch and Coulter. ‘She asked if you got it,’ Benny repeats with a glare at the other men.
This time, when they respond, they are louder in their agreement. ‘Good.
Don’t forget our priorities here. We have a gifting to win,’ he says firmly.
When I walk to the hall, anger stirs, hot and heady. Korvane is such an utter prick. Lots of memories may have faded from my mind since leaving the High Hold, and though I attended only a few of the balls as a child, I’m certain I’ve never experienced anything like this.
The hall is decked out in dark wood, but it’s the ceiling that’s the most breathtaking feature. It’s as high as the temple’s, but here the light comes from massive chandeliers instead of windows. The design of each is deliberate, with six rings stretching outward, like the six rings of a Hold.
It’s not exactly subtle, but it is beautiful. What makes me baulk, however, is the choice of candles he’s used to fill it. Smaller, dimmer ones to fill the outer loops, getting larger and brighter until they reach the point right in the centre – the High Hold. It is a brash and arrogant analogy.
Despite the sheer number of Korvane’s people who live there, there are no lights for the slums.
One of us. Yes, I think I am. More than I realised. The depths of the slums have ingrained themselves into me in more ways than the dirt embedded into my skin.
Llinos beams at me. ‘I think we’re supposed to go this way.’ With a slight tug on my arm, she directs us towards a large arched doorway.
Though she’s barely taken two steps in when our route is blocked.
My line of sight falls straight on a broad chest I immediately recognise, though it’s not the one I’ve been thinking about almost constantly since the incident in the kitchen. The dark leather jacket he wears is unbuttoned, revealing a crisp cream shirt beneath it, fastened with garnet-coloured buttons, and for a second, all I can do is stare at the hints of tattoos and muscles visible beneath the fabric. A light tan weapons belt is slung around his waist, and the decorative, gem-covered hilt of a dagger pokes out of the top. It’s not something you’d use in an actual fight. Appearance over substance. Like so much of Korvane’s court. Though somehow it doesn’t annoy me as much given the wearer. ‘Jonas?’ As I shift my gaze up to his face, I try to keep my voice sounding as neutral as possible, but it’s hard. You’d have to be dead not to be attracted to him in this moment. ‘Wow, Rose.’ Jonas’s voice is breathy as his eyes wander all the way down my body and back up again. ‘Who knew you could scrub up so well?’ A smile begins to form on his lips, only for his jaw to drop as his brain catches up with how offensive his words were. He flushes bright red. ‘Oh Gods, I didn’t mean, you know … because of the slums or anything. I just mean … I meant …’ ‘It’s fine,’ I say, placing my hand on his arm and liking how easily it fits there. ‘I know what you meant. And you don’t look so bad yourself.’ I have no intention of using Jonas as a guard in any of the trials, or when facing Rettlings like Zara, but having Jonas here, in a ballroom full of enemies … well, that’s a comfort I’m willing to accept. ‘Thank you for the gift. The sand bucket,’ I clarify. ‘Very amusing.’ ‘Oh, there was no joke involved.’ His lips twist. ‘I just didn’t want you setting fire to the entire barracks before we’ve even got to the first trial.’ I let out a laugh at his warm teasing. ‘So are you going to introduce us?’ Llinos interrupts.
‘Sorry, yes.’ I step back so Jonas can see the rest of my group. ‘Jonas Lorathin of Wrohelm, this is Llinos … Llinos of the Eastern Isles.’ I make a mental note to learn the islanders’ surnames. ‘And this is Jai, Coulter, Loch, and Benny.’ As Benny steps forward to shake his hand, Jonas’s brow furrows. ‘Haven’t we met before?’ ‘Probably, if you’ve been dragged along to these things for decades like I have,’ Benny replies with an easy laugh. ‘Now, let’s get in there. I need a drink.’ As Benny and the others head inside, Jonas places his hand on my waist, twisting me around to face him. ‘Rose, before you go in, there’s someone I need to warn you about.’ ‘Your father?’ My heart skitters. ‘Is he here?’ I need to make sure he got my message about Kay. Hearing that she’s somewhere safe, where she can keep tabs on how I’m doing, would be the positive news I need to get through the rest of the night. ‘Not yet, no. But look, Rose, I’m not sure how to say this. You just need to know —’ ‘Oh fuck,’ Llinos says, her voice loud enough to cut Jonas off. ‘I don’t
know if I’m impressed or terrified.’ I follow her line of sight.
Turns out Zara isn’t holed up with the healers after all.
