Page 49 of Jeweler to the Blessed (Champions of Chaos #1)

He will make her acknowledge what she is.

— FROM CHAMPIONS OF KAVIOS

P rince Elias proved how he’d earned his reputation after the ceremony.

No matter his nerves, he worked the crowd.

Chatting, smiling, even laughing with those who had attended.

As much time as he spent with the Blessed, he also spent with the other citizens.

Everyone he spoke with left the conversation looking like they floated on a cloud.

I stood at the foot of the stairs, not straying into the group. Hart’s steady glower drove away any brave enough to approach.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said when we were finally alone.

I didn’t question what he referred to. His touch pulled me back.

For all he knew, I could have been digging my fingers into the dirt before the gathered crowd.

I’d already known he could anchor me. His voice usually did, but his hand on my back also did the trick.

I would have thanked him … if he hadn’t sounded so condescending.

“I knew you could handle it.”

The heat of Hart’s glare warmed the back of my neck.

Then, the prince approached Deidre near the refreshment table, and I stretched my fingers at my side. I was still worried about whether she had processed what she’d done during the Presentation. Luckily, she’d been angled, so I hoped only Hart and I had noticed.

Now, she was standing on her own, staring at the mine entrance. With the prince’s approach, she rushed to swipe something from her face.

A tear. She must be thinking of her partner. Anger flooded through my veins as the prince took her hand. To many, it would look like a genuine offer of condolences, but the blue flash of his adamas pendant told me another story.

He took her sadness. Now the anger I fought to hide wanted to show itself.

Deidre smiled as her sorrow left her, though I was sure whatever remembrance of her partner she experienced had also disappeared as her mood shifted.

The prince’s other conversations started to make more sense.

He had been approaching those alone, those pensive.

I thought he’d been trying to unite the city, but I should have known better.

He only required sadness to power the numbing calm he laid upon his citizens.

“Macen pointed me out to someone in the crowd,” I murmured. “It didn’t matter after the prince announced me. But … ”

“Elias is nervous,” Hart finished. “And you’re worried he knows something?”

“I’m not sure. It was unexpected of him to announce me like that. It was almost like he was … daring them to come for me.”

Hart stiffened and his hand went to the sword handle at his belt. “We’ll be ready for them.”

Across the crowd, Vaddon approached the prince. Elias nodded and clapped his hands, commanding the crowd’s attention with a simple gesture.

“I’m being told the miners must continue their shift. Thank you for joining us. Those returning to the city, we should leave now to avoid travel after dark.”

His smile was captivating even as he told people to return to work. His head swiveled as if he were meeting the gaze of every person in attendance. They were all his personal guests, and he appreciated them.

I wasn’t buying it.

“We should be in the middle of the crowd,” Hart whispered.

I nodded and found a place as citizens began trekking to the Eastern Gate.

The urge to go below the ground pulled taut with each step I took away from the mines.

I hadn’t yet learned how to communicate back to the voice—the captive—but I hoped he knew we were coming for him.

We wouldn’t leave him as a prisoner of the Glanmores.

As we reached the midpoint between the mines and Kavios, the Oldwood claimed its toll.

The first shot was an arrow striking the shoulder of the woman walking next to me.

Hart had me behind him before her scream registered. Steel sang as he pulled his sword from its sheath .

With one arrow loosed, a full volley followed.

Screams erupted from the Blessed as they scattered.

Some sprinted down the path, seeking the safety of the Eastern Gate.

Others forgot their fear of the Oldwood and fled into the trees for protection.

I wanted to laugh as the Blessed ran like livestock from a predator.

Maybe the problem with having their power was that it made them feel unassailable.

They fed on those who didn’t fight back.

Now, rebels attacked the Blessed, and the Blessed fled without thinking to use their magic.

For the first time, I saw merit in the Feared’s idea.

The Blessed might not be ready when the rebels decided to fight back.

Unfortunately, today, I was as good as one of the Blessed to the attackers. I wanted to cry out to those fleeing and tell them to stand and fight. They should use the magic they’d stolen from the citizens of Kavios to defend us.

Reluctantly, I acknowledged the sharp shake of Hart’s head as he pulled me to him. “Don’t give away your location.”

A line of men and women with swords drawn sprinted from the trees after the volley of arrows. They cut down any that stood in their path. Not many did. Their target was clear: me.

Hart pulled me into the trees. “I’ll kill Elias myself.”

He grabbed my gloved hand, but the warmth between us pushed away the chill of the Oldwood as we plunged into its harsh protection.

The attackers followed.

The first two to reach us were quickly dispatched. I grabbed my dagger. Not an ideal weapon with so many swords, but I’d defend myself any way I could.

“Not our primary concern,” I hissed.

Hart still gripped my hand, unwilling to let me out of sight. He grunted in acknowledgment as his sword slid into another attacker. He pulled again, leading me deeper into the Oldwood. Hiding me behind the tree, he stabbed the next man who came barreling through the bushes.

“You can’t stop us all,” the next man said as their weapons clashed.

Hart kicked the man back, his sword following, thrusting through the man’s heart before he hit the ground. “I assure you, I can.”

“Do we have a plan?” I asked.

Hart spun me into his arm as another attacker rounded the tree. His blade greeted the woman where she thought to sneak up on me.

“More than killing them?” he asked.

I’d admit he was doing fine, but the attackers weren’t stopping.

The longer he tried to keep me safe while fighting them all off, the greater chance he’d take too significant a risk.

He, like the other Blessed, hadn’t reached for his magic.

I trusted him to know what he was doing.

He said he’d use it if my safety was on the line.

Clearly, he didn’t think it was.

I bit my lip as another attacker came around the next tree. I stabbed him in the neck before Hart pulled me away. He tucked me behind a different tree, and steel met steel as another attacker found us.

But what about Hart’s safety?

His moves never slowed, but I knew they would eventually. We needed a plan. As if proving my point, the next swing from his attacker tore a groan from Hart’s lips.

Something unfurled within me at the sound.

Hart still wore his helmet, but his head turned, and he glared at the cut across his arm through his shirtsleeve. His sword met the man’s again, pushing it back with a brutal strike .

More were coming. Hart would take this one down, but then there would be another. My thoughts scattered.

I couldn’t lose Hart. I’d finally found someone to trust—someone to plan with, someone who wanted things to change in this city as much as I did. They couldn’t take him from me.

Hart was mine.

There was no time to examine the feelings swirling within. I unleashed them on the attacker, and he screamed.

The man who’d sliced Hart’s skin was on his knees, words falling from his lips that made little sense. “Jessikah! No!”

It reminded me of the horrendous sounds of the Selection Festival. He screamed in agony. “I can’t lose you!”

Then he crumpled to his side in a fetal position on the Oldwood’s forest floor. Hart only hesitated for a moment. With a brief glance at me, his blade slid home to end the man’s nightmare.

And I was confident that’s what it was: a nightmare.

Ice-cold fear coated my chest. The Cursed King must be here.

Hart pulled me toward him, his sword lowering. “Come here, Chaos.”

My body shook.

“It’s alright.” His tone was gentle now, though moments before it had boasted only death.

The attackers stopped. Hart let his sword hang limp at his side. As I stepped out from behind the tree, I saw why. Blue glowed from Prince Elias’s pendant. Any remaining enemies were frozen in place. The guards around the prince dispatched those who hadn’t approached me.

“What about the … Cursed King?” I whispered.

I couldn’t see Hart’s face beneath his helmet, but I was sure his brow arched. “That wasn’t him.”

“But … the nightmare. ”

His hand pressed lightly to my lower back as he ushered me back to the road. As he did, he leaned in close to whisper in my ear: “That was you, Chaos.”

I couldn’t process that statement as the prince approached.

No enemies remained alive. Any scattered Blessed slowly returned to the path.

One limped, another sobbed, and with so many having sprinted for the gates, it was impossible to tell how many died in the ambush.

The limping man’s ring glowed orange. With each step, the prominence of his limp depleted.

He was healing himself with stored energy from lust.

Now that the fear was gone, the Blessed thought to heal themselves. Orange glows spread through the slowly darkening forest. Minor scrapes and bruises alongside stab wounds closed before their eyes.

The prince reached for my gloved hands. “Are you alright, Emberline?”

I nodded as he took one, squeezing.

He gestured at Hart. “I see your guard is as good as he claims.”

Hart wiped his blade on a body sprawled at our feet. “Only doing my duty.”