Page 14 of Immortal Origins (Chronicles of the Immortal Trials #1)

“ M URDERER!”

“Execute her!”

“Justice for the gods and Almuria!”

Infuriated shouts from nobles called for her death, naming her a killer from every corner of the Grand Hall. Self-defense didn’t matter in this court.

Ambrose could care less about the nobles who gorged themselves daily and would forget about this as soon as it was no longer thrilling. She cared far more about the foreign monarch who hadn’t broken eye contact with her in all this time.

“Enough,” Casimir ordered, the word slicing through the crowd like shards of ice.

No one dared make another sound.

Even King Tallis couldn’t tear himself away from Casimir. Watching his every move the way a predator would evaluate something far stronger in its den. The silence from him was deafening.

Casimir waited patiently until he was sure all eyes were back on him, grinning from ear to ear.

Someone loves a good performance, Ambrose thought, analyzing whatever she could from the being. No weaknesses. Not a single crack in his composure to be seen. All she saw was something she would never want to meet on the other end of a fight.

“Finally, do you confirm or deny entering a sacred space and stealing from the gods?” Casimir asked with a flare in his eye .

Stole from the gods? That garden belonged to the gods? Why was it all the way in Eltoria and not in their home kingdom? She fell back, mouth falling open slightly as she called into her mind, “ How did you get me into more trouble than I was already in? ”

But wherever they were, the voice was long gone.

“I… I didn’t know,” she said stunned.

“Ahhhhhhh,” Casimir purred. “So you don’t deny it?” His expression turned fierce.

Magnus, standing ten paces behind her in the crowd, let out a small sob.

The flicker of the firelights cast shadows on all their faces, distorting them as the crowd murmured and peered down at them from their wooden pews.

A tense current hung in the chilly air as the king’s flags along the chamber grew frost on their frayed ends, the crackling of ice snapped through the room.

Her heart broke for the people who would be left after today.

Her brother, ever devoted to the kingdom and to order.

How would he mourn her? If he were here, he would tell her she should’ve listened.

That she could’ve saved herself had she only done her duty.

Would he hate her? Thinking for the rest of his life that she’d needlessly gotten herself killed?

Magnus, who devoted his entire life to training and guiding her, always so patient and enthusiastic when she accomplished a challenge.

Pushing her to grow her magick every day.

Ernaline… Her sister, though they shared no blood.

Who would look after her when Ambrose wasn’t there to keep an eye on her?

Ms. Asquith, who’d become too accustomed to burying servants in her charge.

But still managed to love each one as though she’d never known the loss.

How she always tried to guide Ambrose but knew she could never make her choices for her.

Would she shed a tear? Or did she not have any left to cry?

“I didn’t know! I never would’ve stolen from the gods, I swear, it was a mistake.” She hoped Casimir believed her words. Stealing from the gods was suicide.

“You all bore witness to these confessions today.” Casimir lifted his face so he faced the crowd. “You all heard, with your own ears her crimes… ”

Ambrose’s heart punched a lump into her throat. There had to be something she could do, something she could say. This couldn’t be the end. How was this taking control of her own fate? She was completely and utterly powerless at the hands of beings who violently wanted her dead.

“Such crimes cannot go unpunished,” Casimir continued.

“Servant Ambrose of Eltoria is a Common Mage who has failed to master an Element for the empire, and thus has forfeit any protection being a mage grants her.” Hushed and excited whispers buzzed through the chamber with rising magickal energy.

The tension growing with each small spark in the room.

The nobles’ taste for torture growing to a ravenous appetite.

“For these crimes,” Casimir beamed, “I, Casimir of Naenaros, sentence servant Ambrose of Eltoria, to death.”

Cheers roared from the crowd as they slung profanities and ideas for her execution at them. Whatever punishment their twisted minds deemed fit for the criminal kneeling on the marble floor before them. The stone so cold, it burned her knees where it touched her.

This was it. No one coming to save her. If there had ever been an opportunity to try and escape, it was now.

She doubted she’d make it, but what did she have to lose?

She weighed her odds against the powers in the room and her likelihood of survival and boiled it down to at the very least, a quicker death in an altercation.

Surviving a fight was out of the question but maybe she could get them to kill her quicker if she fought with everything she had.

How did everything lead up to this? Sure, she wasn’t a shining example of a servant but she wasn’t a threat to anyone. It was a mistake. She’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time. There had to be something she could do—

And then it hit her.

So simple, yet so obvious.

Not much of a better chance, but it was better.

It would buy her time.

Time to think.

Time to escape .

She rose to her feet.

Gritting her teeth, the current inside her pushed forcefully against her and she reigned control back in, guiding her channels to a steady flow, though they pushed to rage fiercely.

She lifted her chin, squared back her shoulders, clearly and loudly declared, “I, Ambrose of Eltoria, first of my name, and servant to the crown, pledge my life and honor in name of the kingdom of Eltoria. I pledge my name and life to the Immortal Trials.”

Furious screams erupted all around her.

“She can’t do that,” one slender noble cried in utter disgust.

“Unacceptable! It would make a mockery of the trials!” another shouted from behind a goblet of wine that she crushed in her fist.

“She’s a criminal, ” another spat in hatred as he waved his hands in the air.

For the first time the whole trial, the king’s brother turned his full attention to the display, a wicked look across his features.

Casimir stood, not enraged by her pledge as she thought he would be, but with a sharp-toothed grin so large, it stretched all the way to his eyes. Ice cracked from the floor where his feet touched the intricate carpet. He seemed… pleased.

King Tallis pulled his sword high above his head, the sound of metal grating stone as he lifted it.

“SILENCE.” The room fell reluctantly but quickly quiet again.

“A pledge is Divine Law. Once a name has been put forward, no nation, no king, nor god may stop them. Only fate will determine the future of a Champion.”

He recited it perfectly from the Divine Law contract that every kingdom followed and knew by heart.

Divine Law had authority even over the gods themselves.

No one could keep her from putting her name in, and now that she had, no one could harm her either.

At least not until the tournament began, but thankfully, that wasn’t for another six months.

Six months to figure out a way to escape her fate…

to escape almost certain death. She’d figure out where she would go later, the details unimportant.

There had to be one corner of the world the gods couldn’t reach. Somewhere.

“He is correct…” Casimir hummed, drinking in the moment.

“As of now, Ambrose is no longer a servant, but a Trial Champion. Given the full au tonomy of one. No one may harm her outside of an agreed upon duel between her and another Trial Champion. I will remind you all no one is exempt from the law or safe from the consequences of breaking it. I will remain in Eltoria until the tournament has finished and we’ve seen the results of her participation. Law is law.” Casimir finished.

“Law is law.” The nobles chanted back.

Ambrose clutched her hands to her chest.

She did it.

She had six months to figure out an escape plan. Six months to save herself before the tournament began. Six months to find a way to escape the gods forever. She released a shuddered breath and held back the sob that clawed for release.

Casimir placed a closed fist over his heart, and bowed at the waist to Ambrose. “Bold move.” The grin he gave her made her want to crawl out of her skin.

“I wouldn’t underestimate me,” she shot back at him, her voice dripping with distaste.

He couldn’t touch her.

No one could.

For the first time in her life no one could hurt her.

“I certainly won’t make that mistake again, will I?” He winked, his emerald eyes flashing with something she couldn’t fully identify as he tossed his well-manicured blond locks over his shoulder.

Was he impressed?

No. He was a royal. He just enjoyed playing with his food before he ate it and she just gave him six months of an appetizer before her brutal death as the main course.

Disgusting. Every single one of them. How little they cared for life, and how easily they toyed with it as though they owned it.

Like it was just another of the many pleasures laid out for them to bleed out and suck dry.

Hate simmered inside her, boiling just behind her chest.

“Akadian,” Casimir snapped.

“Yes?” the prince replied from his perch, growing interest all over him.

“You’ll be in charge of watching this one. Make sure she doesn’t neglect her duties and think she can run. Watch her, do not help her. I’ll know if you do. She has six months to train and I want consistent updates on her progress.” Casimir waved a hand to the entire gathering. “Dismissed.”