Page 66 of Immortal Origins (Chronicles of the Immortal Trials #1)

T he ball was certainly anything but tame as beings of all kinds dug into the plates of food Ms. Asquith had spent all week preparing. Eating up every bite of roast meat, breads, ales and wines. Desserts disappeared off of trays as servants ran between tables.

Ambrose nursed her own goblet of strawberry wine, thankful the King of Nethyr had turned his attention to scold a servant for failing to refill his goblet in time.

The fae had red hair and a short build that made him look far younger than he actually was, the crest of Sepikara pinned to his chest as his face flushed and he ran away to refill his decanter.

Ambrose was sure the King of Sepikara wouldn’t take too kindly to another royal scolding one of his servants, but it wasn’t as though he didn’t have the authority.

When she glanced over, the tundra king was otherwise immersed in a conversation of his own with a Trial Champion that Ambrose could only assume was Sepikara’s favorite.

Nobles drank and danced in the center, letting the music take all their inhibitions away as the musicians stiffly played without stopping, and Ambrose was left to think of the man she’d met in the markets and the soulful melody he’d played.

Casimir watched from his stolen throne, meeting Ambrose’s watchful eye whenever he had the chance.

Something in his smile was more sinister than her previous encounters with him—if that was even possible.

She did her best to avoid making eye contact with him and instead did everything she could to catch Adym’s attention from behind him, but he refused to look at her.

Was he still mad ?

Casimir lifted the ban of servants talking to her days ago and in all that time, Adym hadn’t come to see her once.

She did her best to hide her disappointment when Akadian never joined them.

His throne next to the king’s completely empty of its owner.

Ernaline pranced from table to table, refilling goblets and plates, dodging hands that reached out at her, at the behest of unsatisfied royalty.

Years of serving displayed as she expertly moved throughout the intoxicated crowd.

Every once in a while she would pass by Ambrose, offering her hushed words of encouragement before she’d quickly move along.

With each round she made, her love for her best friend grew.

Akadian might’ve been missing, but she wasn’t alone.

Lily sat next to her, back straight as she watched the crowd the way a true warrior would, hand flexing over her dagger as her eyes never left the royals, and Magnus even came to find her to give her a squeeze on her shoulder and tell her good luck.

No matter what, she wasn’t alone.

Desperate for a breath of fresh air, Ambrose excused herself from the table, much to the protests of Jovian and worried looks from Lily.

She made her way out into the open corridor and leaned against one of the glassless windows, allowing the cool evening breeze to wash over her as it kissed her cheeks.

When she closed her eyes and listened closely, it was as though the wind sang an ancient song to her that danced in her veins.

The ground pulsed and she could see out into the night beyond the blankness of the horizon and the trees that lined the walls of the city and the way they spoke to her.

Even the moon called down to her and she could feel the waves on the far-off coast to the south and the rhythm in which they danced together.

Her body hummed in response to it. She stood like that, frozen in that precious moment.

“Are you alright?”

Ambrose sucked in a breath and turned quickly from the window. “Inanna! You startled me.”

The Oracle was draped in her usual black robes and hood, crimson peaking out from beneath it as she pulled the veil from her face.

Her raven-like hair fell like a waterfall down her chest, framing her porcelain features.

Her cheeks rosy in the cool evening air as her brows pulled together in worry. “How are you?”

“I’m not really sure how to answer that question,” Ambrose sighed.

The Oracle stared out into the dark, her features set into a sad, distant look. “I’m sorry I didn’t come see you sooner. I’ve been called into service more than usual lately. There’s a disruption in the kingdoms that has most of the royalty on edge.”

Before Ambrose could stop herself she asked, “Is that the same disturbance in Damayaria?”

“I can’t speak on that,” the Oracle said softly.

Ambrose followed her gaze out the window and propped her elbows on the stone windowsill. “You look tired.”

The Oracle gave her a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

Her cheeks were slightly sunken in, making her already pale face appear even paler, with dark rings under her violet eyes that almost matched the color of her hair.

Did the king know his daughter looked so worn down?

“All the royals have been keeping their Oracles close in hopes that one of us will produce a new prophecy.”

Odd.

The royals always kept the Oracles in the palaces in case one of them were to produce a new prophecy, but they didn’t usually try to pry one out. What could be so disruptive all the royals would be on edge?

“Have there been any?” Ambrose leaned her full body against the window frame, letting the cool stone ease the warmth under her skin.

“No, and they haven’t seemed too satisfied with that.” Inanna’s expression darkened. “They’re keeping us close and I don’t know why. It bothers me. I’ve been thinking about you ever since your trial. Something about it puzzles me and I can’t seem to fit the pieces together.”

“That seems to be a running theme around here,” Ambrose tried to joke, but the princess shook her head. “I’m sorry if I worried you.”

“It’s not that.” Inanna stared out the window once more. “Can you feel it?”

“Feel what?” Ambrose asked. She felt plenty of things .

“Magick. Something’s different. It has been since that day,” Inanna whispered more to herself than Ambrose, lost in thought. “Something has shifted in the air.”

“I mean, aside from learning to control my own powers, I don’t think so.” Ambrose turned her face to the stars. “If that’s what you mean?”

Inanna shook her head again, biting her bottom lip. “No, that’s not what I mean.”

Ambrose’s face fell into concern, the corners of her mouth pulled down as she took in the princess. “Are you okay?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” Inanna seemed to come back from the thoughts plaguing her mind and smiled at Ambrose.

“Good luck tomorrow. I have complete faith in you, I know you’re going to do—” She placed a hand on Ambrose’s shoulder and her face fell as her eyes went from a deep violet to a milky white color.

Terrified, Ambrose squeezed her hand. “Inanna?”

The Oracle’s mouth opened and the voice that came from her wasn’t Inanna’s but something far older. “Stolen lands and unclaimed power, fire reigns an endless shower. Ten is Twelve with no power, one unseen of fruits devoured. What once was lost at midnight hour, only the found can empower.”

As quickly as it began, Inanna’s eyes returned to their natural color and her knees buckled as she collapsed. Ambrose reached out and caught her before her head could hit the ground, cradling the princess’ body before she made contact with the marble floor.

Ambrose shook her lightly. “Inanna!”

Her eyes fluttered open with a groan as she sat upright.

“Are you okay?” Ambrose asked, concern growing.

Inanna placed a hand to her forehead as Ambrose carefully helped her back to her feet. It took a moment for her to regain her bearings, swaying on her feet while she rubbed her temple. Her eyes snapped open and she grabbed Ambrose demanding, “What did I say?”

“Um…” Ambrose did her best to try and remember but she hadn’t been prepared for the princess to collapse in front of her. “Something about ‘un claimed power’…?”

Inanna quickly pulled her veil back over her face. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“Careful.” Ambrose held her arms out, ready to catch the Oracle were she to fall again. “That looked pretty intense, don’t stress yourself.”

“I’m sorry.” Inanna fled down the hall, her black cloak flying behind her.

“What just happened?” Ambrose watched her vanish down the hall, confused more than ever.

Mind racing, Ambrose decided it was time to get back to the festivities before Casimir sent someone hunting for her.

She rejoined the hall, nobles and royalty singing happily as Trial Champions drank away what could be their last night.

Eager to tell Lily what just happened, Ambrose rushed to find her in the crowd, but she’d abandoned her seat.

A hand as cold as ice snaked its way around Ambrose’s waist. “May I have this dance?”

Fuck.

“What do you want?” She narrowed her eyes at Casimir as he peered down at her with that frozen, stalking stare.

“I was looking for my favorite Trial Champion,” Casimir said, pulling her towards the center where bodies swung and danced.

“I’m not in the mood to dance.” Ambrose tried to pull herself away from him.

Casimir grabbed her hand with his free one and pulled her body in so it twirled to meet his. Fluid enough to not draw attention, sharp enough to tell her it wasn’t a request. His chest was as cold as a corpse as it touched hers and she pushed herself away a few inches.

“I wasn’t actually asking.”

He spun her expertly across the dance floor, feet moving as though he were gliding on ice as he twirled them around.

“Fine. One dance,” she bit out.

Casimir let his eyes wander over her, how the dress hugged her body, the chains that hung from her and finally the collar on her neck. “You look ravishing tonight.”

She cringed inwardly at his compliment. “I was told I didn’t have much of a choice in my fashion this evening.”