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CHAPTER NINETEEN

I foundmyself on a stone bench in what looked like a courtyard garden. The space was enclosed by high walls covered in climbing vines. Gravel paths wound between neat beds of roses and herbs, all arranged around a central fountain. Stone archways connected different sections of the garden, their weathered surfaces smooth from years of rain. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the paths, and a cool breeze carried the scent of lavender blooms.

Someone sat beside me, though I couldn't quite turn my head to see who. Through the archway ahead, I recognized a woman immediately—the same girl from my previous dream, though older now—one of the twins. Her dark hair was elaborately styled, and she walked arm in arm with a handsome man in formal attire.

"The Northern trade routes have been quite profitable this season, Lord Skaldvindr," she said, her voice carrying that same tone I remembered from the night at her vanity. Her fingers tightened slightly on his arm as they passed our bench.

"Indeed." His response was polite but distant, his attention seeming to drift. As they rounded the rose bushes, his eyes flickered toward where Isat, and something in his expression softened—a small smile touching his lips before he returned his attention to his companion.

"Father says the silk merchants have been particularly generous in their offerings," she continued, though his gaze had already begun to wander again. I watched her try to maintain his interest.

They made another circle of the garden, their conversation a steady stream of trade agreements and political niceties. Each time they passed, I noticed the same pattern—his careful glances toward our bench, that subtle warming of his features. The person beside me shifted, and when I turned, I caught only a glimpse of a flushed neck as she bent her head, dark hair falling forward like a curtain. My heart skipped—it was the other sister, the one who had sat in her robe asking about balls she never attended.

"Perhaps we should discuss the upcoming harvest festival," the other sister said, her grip on Lord Skaldvindr's arm tightening as she steered him toward another path. But even as she led him away, his eyes found our bench one last time.

The sister beside me remained still, but I could see the rapid rise and fall of her breath, the way her hands trembled slightly where they rested in her lap. The tension between them was palpable now—this careful dance of stolen glances and unspoken words.

They disappeared around a corner, though the sister's voice still carried—eager and hopeful as she detailed plans for upcoming celebrations. The tension beside me seemed to ease slightly, but that flush remained, creeping down past the collar of her dress. I wanted to turn fully, to finally see her face clearly, but the dream held my gaze just out of reach. And then, the steady sound of voices began to pull me from sleep.

"Noneof this would be happening if you just took the position when they offered it to you." It was Vexa's voice, hissing with frustration.

Consciousness came in waves, like being pulled through murky water. Everything hurt. The world existed only in fragments—the scratch of rough fabric against my skin, the dull throb at my temple, and the sound of whispers just beyond.

"I’m not discussing this again," Aether's response was low, almost a growl.

Their words faded in and out. I tried to open my eyes but my body wouldn't respond.

"But it was yours. You earned it." Vexa again.

"Irrelevant." Something in Aether's tone made me think this wasn't the first time they'd had this argument.

A groan escaped my lips before I could stop it. The voices ceased immediately, followed by the sound of quick footsteps.

This time when I tried, my eyes actually opened. The room swam into focus—stone walls, iron torches. Some kind of infirmary chamber carved into the mountain. The bed beneath me was narrow but solid.

"How are you feeling?" Vexa appeared at my side, concern etched into her features. Behind her, Aether leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed. Even from here I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his golden eyes had turned sharp with something that looked like anger.

"I'm sorry," I managed, my voice rough. "I lost. I assume that's why I'm here."

"Don't apologize." The words snapped from Aether like a whip.

Vexa shot him a look before turning back to me, her expression conflicted. "It's not your fault. Urkin has never had any contestant fight Darius before. He knew exactly what he was doing."

The words hit like another blow. "So I'm finished then?"

"No," Vexa said quickly. "The combat trial and tether observation are cumulative. You showed skill today—lasting that long against Darius..." She shook her head. "Your score isn't as high aswe'd hoped, but if you can make up for it tomorrow with your tether demonstration, you could still move on to Void considerations."

Aether shifted against the doorframe. "I'm going to check on Lael." His eyes met mine for a moment, intense enough to make my breath catch, before he turned and disappeared into the corridor.

Vexa settled onto the edge of the bed, her eyes scanning my face with a wince. "You look terrible."

"Thanks." I tried to smile but my split lip protested.

"No, really. When you hit the ground..." She shook her head. "I've never seen Aether move so fast. He was halfway over the railing before Effie and I could grab him."

I touched my temple gingerly, feeling the raised bump. "What happened after?"

"Chaos, honestly. The other contestants were horrified." She ran a hand through her hair. "We went straight to Urkin, demanded to know what he was thinking, putting you against Darius."