Page 11 of Kingdom of Tomorrow (Book of Arden #1)

Some solutions cannot be worked out in your mind: they must come from an enlightened heart.

I entered the commons with Mykal at my side.

No longer rushed by the HP, I cataloged the finer details.

A smaller room than the Dome, but just as spectacular.

Crimson crystals layered the walls and sparkled in the light.

The lounge area offered soft couches and comfy chairs.

In the kitchen, four tables offered intricately carved seats.

An island displayed plates, utensils, and an assortment of snacks.

From fresh fruits to creamy cheeses to savory pastries.

Everything else forgotten, I floated over for a closer look.

Sugar-glazed tartlets topped with strawberries.

Double-stacked sandwiches. Seasoned crackers.

Vegetable dips. Why was no one digging in?

My mouth watered as I reached for a mix of apples and figs baked inside a buttery crust. Delicacies I’d only ever seen in photos and films. Treats I’d yearned to sample for years.

“I didn’t give you permission to eat, Lady Pink.”

The HP’s rebuke hit my ears, and I froze. My mind blanked and restarted, revealing frayed nerve endings. Our illustrious leader had arrived. Empty handed, I straightened and dropped my arm to my sides. “No. Sir. You did not.”

“No one touches the food until they’re disqualified from the game,” he called to one and all. “If anyone wishes to forfeit, do it now.”

No one spoke up. I’m sure they remembered his earlier warning. Everything was a graded test.

“Good.” The HP stalked past me, and I caught a whiff of fairy dust and ambrosia. Or maybe rose and citrus. Whatever it was, it fogged my head with thoughts I had no business entertaining.

Mykal rushed to take up a post directly behind him. A group of medics entered the chamber, and I swallowed a groan. Great! We required medical personnel for this contest.

Only when I spotted Shiloh did I breathe easier. He and the others settled in at the tables, near a section of the room cleared of all furniture. On the floor was a large painted circle comprising eighteen smaller circles, each with a handgun in the center.

My widening attention whipped to the high prince.

He stood in profile, his brand stark against his skin and a beautiful testament to his strength and courage.

For a moment, the sight of him distracted me from what was to come.

I hated that the mark bothered him. Then I remembered the handguns and tamped down a mewl for help.

He stiffened and commanded, “Pick a ring and claim your weapon.”

I dragged my feet to one of the cir—nope, a girl shouldered past me and snagged it. I angled left to—nope. Right. Nope. Sighing, I snagged a ring next to Roman. A spot everyone else avoided. Made sense, I supposed. If we had to fight the people next to us, he was the man to avoid.

I peered down at the gun, uneasy. I’d never handled a firearm and didn’t want to start now. To become top lady, however ... I claimed the weapon, doing my best to hide my apprehension. The firearm was lighter than expected but not quite as firm. Not squishy, but not exactly solid either. Weird.

Everyone peered at everyone else, clearly wondering what to do next. Well, excluding Roman and a few others. They stared straight ahead, ready for anything.

In this position, I had a direct view of the HP and Shiloh. Avoiding the first, I concentrated on the medic. He offered me an encouraging nod. I nodded back. I would’ve taken comfort in the exchange, but once again, I read his eyes. It’s going to be okay ... eventually.

My limbs petrified.

“Let’s begin.” High Prince Dolion selected the apple-and-fig dessert from a tray Mykal held out for him.

Oh, that burned. “I suggest you listen carefully to my instructions. Your weapon holds three pain darts that simulate the sensation of interrealm travel. You will talk and get to know each other, using those darts to eliminate anyone you don’t wish to be your representative.

If you miss, you miss. If you hit your target and they don’t go down, too bad.

Exit your boundary in any capacity, and you’re disqualified.

Fall, disqualified. You’ll vote between the final two left standing.

” After biting into the treat and dabbing a drop of juice from the corner of his mouth, he casually commanded, “Go.”

Acid invaded my veins, my thoughts whirling.

This must be a trick. Yes, we were to look after ourselves right now.

But. Part of looking after myself was ensuring I had a team able to trust me, no matter what.

By hurting someone now, I only hurt myself later.

That meant, what? The true winner wouldn’t discharge a single dart?

“If we’re gonna do this, let’s do it. I’m Jericho, and I—” A broken grunt garbled his next words.

Perhaps because a dart now protruded from his jugular.

He jerked as if he’d been hit with a lightning bolt, the tendons in his neck stretching taut.

By some miracle, he didn’t fall or step from his boundary.

Roman lowered his gun. “I’m Lord Roman Alexander.

Here’s how this will go. One by one, you will sell yourself to us with two facts and an explanation about why you believe you should be our representative.

We’ll start with”—he pointed to Lark, the gorgeous girl from my school, who’d been a grade under me—“you. By the way, if anyone shoots her, they’ll have to deal with me. ”

Jericho began to breathe heavily. Beads of sweat trickled over his face.

As confident as Roman, Lark put her nose in the air. “I’m Lady Lark Foster, future archduchess. First fact, I don’t need you or anyone to protect me. Second, I’m not interested in dating you. I should be our representative because I’m good at keeping egotistical soldiers in check.”

“Consider my protection a bonus, since you’re preobsessed with me and all.” Roman spread his arms, unaffected by her rejection. Playful and yet still so, well, soldiery. “And I hate to point this out, honey, but you didn’t keep me in check.” He winced for her. “You followed my instructions.”

Lark blinked as she realized the truth of his words. Scowling, she shot him.

Laughing, he plucked out the dart as if it were nothing. “So you need a little more time to come to terms with our powerful connection. Noted.”

The object of his fascination huffed and puffed, but she didn’t shoot him again.

Whoosh. The guy on my right took his shot, a dart flying.

With a slight twist, Roman avoided a second hit. He didn’t turn away from Lark but raised his weapon and fired, nailing his would-be assailant in the throat. While I marveled at his skill, he winked.

Trigger Happy muttered something just before he wobbled and stumbled out of bounds. Disqualified. One down, seventeen to go.

“Please, go on.” Roman waved in Lark’s direction. “You were saying you don’t need a big, tough rescuer in your corner, but maybe suddenly you’ve realized you want one?”

“Nah,” she said, blowing him a kiss with her middle finger. “I’m good.”

“Very good,” he agreed.

I almost couldn’t process what was happening, my anxiety a wildfire and an ice storm at once, yet those two were flirting.

Amid my haze of shock, I missed the ensuing flood of names and information. At least until a guy barked a laugh and said, “Parents, man. They can be the worst. Do you think pre-Fall kids had such ridiculous names?”

Four people shot him without hesitation. Two of the projectiles landed. Screaming, he pitched backward, out of bounds. He lay sprawled on the floor, with white foam dripping from his mouth.

Three teammates eliminated themselves—none of whom were his shooters.

If I could have moved, I would’ve joined them.

My feet had morphed into boulders, keeping me captive as the victim gasped for breath he couldn’t catch.

Two medics rushed to treat him. It wasn’t long before he sat up with a groan and a glaze of pain in his eyes.

Cheers resounded as the medics helped him rise and lumber to a table.

“I didn’t say stop,” the HP said, merciless, and my bones quaked. “Continue.”

A new round of names and facts kicked off, blurring together. In the chaos, I retained only Juniper, Miller, and Titus.

Titus was tall and unassuming, but he glared at Roman, ready for battle. “I have no need to sell myself to you or anyone.”

Expecting an immediate shoot-out, I froze. When Roman continued making eyes at Lark, ignoring Titus, I sighed with relief and tried to listen to the next onslaught of information. Did I retain anything new? No. Soon I would be forced to speak and—

Every eye landed on me. My stomach churned. My turn had arrived.

“H-hi. I’m Arden. Lady Arden Roosa.” The gun nearly slipped from my dampening grip.

I can do this. “I don’t think we should harm each other.

We’re a team, or at least we’re going to be.

Plus, we’re being graded.” Warming up to my stance, I gave a firm nod.

“If we put down our weapons, we can—” A sharp sting pierced just below my collarbone.

I sucked air between my teeth. Searing agony consumed me in an instant, penetrating to my very marrow. Tears welled, screams barreling up my throat only to die on my tongue, unheard as my mind caught fire. Beads of sweat trickled down my temples.

Do not fall! Both the HP and Shiloh were witnessing my reaction. If I lost this early, I’d be forever humiliated.

Trembling, I yanked out the projectile. And yet the excruciating pain only magnified.

I nearly whimpered. Needing an anchor, I focused on—no!

But it was too late. The HP didn’t notice me, thank goodness.

He was completely at ease, busy selecting a new dessert.

I turned my attention to Shiloh. He gripped the edge of his table, ready to leap out of his chair to come get me.

His eyes chanted, Tap out, tap out, tap out.