Page 49

I tilt my head as Grandfather talks, trying to remember if there’s beef between the Astors and Jarvises. I’m sure there has been at some point, but none recently that I can recall. No bad business deals as far as I’m aware, but obviously Grandfather doesn’t share most Jarvis business with me. I’m just the muscle. The fall guy. He couldn’t care less if I was restrained in prison for the rest of my life.
Sometimes, I don’t think I would either.
“Through the seasons,” my grandfather speaks again, his voice raining down like thunder, “you will be a Knight of Arcadia. There will be periods of pain and pleasure, heaven and hell. And through it all, you will always be a Knight. It is not a choice, it is a privilege, and you must tread with dignity. You cannot only love the Knights when you are riding a high from one of its benefits. You must believe in our kinship to your core. If you choose to move forward, this Trial will test your physical strengths…and pain endurance.”
When I pledged like this, we stayed the night in a completely dark room, barren of sight, sound, smell. It was torture to the mind. Sensory deprivation at its cruelest.
“If you are up to the task, you will jump into the cold depths of the river. Then, on our marks, to the fiery coals. Through it all, you must persevere for the greater good.”
I swear the greater good is his fucking motto.
This is going to suck. The weather has finally turned, so I can imagine the river is frigid even in the height of day. At night like this, it’s probably dropped more than a few degrees.
And for Eden? Her sister drowned in this fucking river, and here she is, about to jump into it. …If she doesn’t back out.
“This is bullshit,” Oliver growls under his breath.
“Just fucking listen,” I snap, even though we’ve come up with the same assessment. Eden will be the only one who’s directly affected by the water in a different way. Oliver makes to peer over his shoulder again, but I reach out and grab his forearm. “Focus on yourself.”
“Easy for you to say, Jarvis.” He sneers. “Have you ever cared about another person’s well-being more than your own?”
His haughty fucking British accent is pissing me the fuck off. “It’s not about that, Prince. It’s about making her look weak. Worry about your damn self before you ruin your chance…and hers.”
I grind my teeth while he glares daggers at me. I should just let him do whatever the fuck he wants. If he fails, maybe Eden fails, then I’m off the hook. I’m out. Unless this is part of my test too. He told me they were assessing me.
And like that, I’m a little boy again, vying for his attention, and I hate myself for it.
His voices rises again. “You will traverse from river to coals for as many times as we ask. Remember, there is always a great reward after a great ask.”
I swallow, sudden memories of the nude woman who met me at my grandfather’s house after I survived this Trial assail me. To this day, I don’t know who I fucked until we both lay panting on the floor. It was just a body. Just a reward. No emotions involved whatsoever.
“Who is strong enough to weather this storm?”
All the Pledges’ hands raise into the air. Oliver doesn’t even hesitate, and I almost feel bad for snapping at him.
Grandfather looks around approvingly. “To the riverbank, then… And I suggest you strip down to your skin. Wet clothes are a nuisance, and sometimes a liability.”
Oliver’s hands turn to fists. He glances at Eden, then at me. “If it’s me or her, it’s her. You understand me?”
“Relax, Royal. Nothing’s going to happen.” Inside, though, his words harden my resolve. The same feelings that had me reaching for her on the bus strike again. Pledges have been seriously hurt in the past. I wish I’d paid more attention in health class to know what extreme temperatures do to the body. Polar Bear Dips are a thing, but frostbite is very real. I’ve also seen people walk over coals as some sort of personal development highlight, but what about standing on them when your feet are chilled to the bone?
My mind rages with every possibility, and I haven’t even scratched the surface of Eden’s mental health right now. During Trials, the Knights push the boundaries as far as they can because if it wasn’t difficult, everyone would make it. Sure, you’ll be handsomely rewarded, but Christ. I’m seeing it through a different lens this time.
“Once you begin, every time you hear this horn”—a bullhorn echoes through the air, and even though I’m braced for it, I nearly react—“you’ll move from one test to the other. As always, you are being judged.”
Finally, I let myself glance at Eden. Barclay is speaking in her ear as she unbuttons her pants. She’s not looking at him, though. Nor me. She’s staring at Oliver. They seem to be having some sort of silent conversation while we both stand here like twats. Jealousy twists my gut.
I glare at my charge. “You going to get naked or what?”
“I didn’t know you were so keen on seeing my junk again, Jarvis.”
A few chuckles sound around us, and my face heats. “See that tiny pecker again? No, thank you.”
Oliver smirks. I’m far from judging, but he has every right to be confident. He had more than a few inches to spare, even with Eden’s fist wrapped around his length and that whore’s mouth sucking him down.
Eden unclasps a black, lace bra, handing it off to Barclay. She stands there in nothing but her delectable skin that was so needy for all of us. It’s hard not to stare, but I make myself watch her face, looking for any signs of tension. Fear.
She does a good job of putting on a show. When her gaze finally meets mine, I spy the hollowness there. She’s putting aside her emotions, and she’s smart to do it. Emotions and feelings don’t get you anywhere with the Knights. They’re just a hindrance.