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“Thank you.” My eyes met his and asked another question. What are we doing?

He smiled broadly. “Did you wear that color for me? It’s one of my favorites.”

“I—wha—”

Saga’s sharp elbow found my side, jabbing in. I winced and twisted to find the princess glaring at me.

“Play along,” she hissed, just loud enough for me to hear over the excited murmurs of the crowd.

I turned back to the prince. “I didn’t know green was your favorite color, but I’m glad it pleases you, my prince.”

He grinned; the sight so lovely that I swore it stopped my heart. “I like hearing that.” Then, he reached out and took my hand, pulling it closer and placing it on his upper thigh.

Eyeing my hand’s position, I swallowed. I wasn’t sure what we played at, and while I found Prince Vale attractive, this behavior came off as strange and far too forward. Anyone might see.

Actually, that wasn’t a theoretical idea. People could see, and they were looking.

Prince Gervais leaned forward ever so slightly and trained his gaze on me. The king also stole glances, and Prince Rhistel, somehow the most innocuous of the threatening lineup, stared at his twin, mouth ajar. I squirmed and glanced around. Common fae watched openly too and whispered behind hands.

Why is he doing this?

I wished I had been privy to their planning session, but I had not, so I sat there, wracking my brain to figure out their motive.

As far as other fae knew, my fiancé had left court, and now the Warrior Bear was acting very familiar.

A sharp breath sunk into my lungs. Was he trying to convince others that Roar left because Prince Vale had an interest in me? Everyone knew that they did not like one another. Were rivals even. Was this supposed to look like a conquest for the prince?

But how would this get me out of Avaldenn?

My questions fell away as an announcer soared into the center of the Pit and glittering white magic flew from his hands. “Today we witness a trial of rebels! A trial by the white bear!”

I gasped at the show of magic, but the cheering of the crowd swallowed the sound. Though I was living in the land of the fae, and most had at least a base level of magic, fae did not use their powers often. For now, that suited me, as I had no magic to show off. I wondered what mine would do when I could wield it. Would I be strong or weak? What color would it be?

I didn’t know, but as the announcer’s magic swirled through the air and zoomed at a second gate at the base of the Pit, I lost all thought. His power hit the gate, and it burst open. Four fae, their wings torn off, raced out, chased by soldiers with spears on fire.

“Their wings,” I whispered.

“Father deems it appropriate that they can never fly again. Even if they win.” Prince Vale spoke just as softly in response.

A muscle feathered in his defined jaw. I didn’t think the prince agreed with his father on this course, and I had to wonder if anyone ever won against a white bear. Though I was not about to ask. The king sat too close and might overhear.

Besides, at that moment, the announcer’s magic soared toward the wall closest to me. I could not see a gate beneath where we sat, but the metal shuddered violently, and the next thing I knew, a great white bear surged from the bowels of the Pit.

Fae screamed, and my hands flew to my mouth. I’d never seen a living white bear before, but I’d read about them. On all fours the creature stood as tall as a large horse, and it had to weigh at least three times as much. The stuffed version in the palace looked tiny by comparison. “It’s enormous.” I gasped at the sight.

Prince Vale twisted to face me. “It was born from the largest of its kind.”

“Has it ever been free?”

“Free?”

“In the wild?”

The question appeared to strike him as odd, but after a moment’s hesitation, he shook his head. “It was bred and raised in captivity. It was the first white bear born after my father took the throne. The most savage of its line. My father is quite fond of it.”

That this bear remained alive and that the king used it for trials against those who committed crimes meant that it had never lost.

As the bear charged the fae, I pitied the defenseless rebels. Not only had their wings been torn from their backs, but not one of them used magic. I suspected they could no longer do so. Without wings or weapons, how could they fight in this so-called trial?