Page 25 of Manor of Wind and Nightmares (Fae of Brytwilde #3)

As our steps followed the beat of the music, I mulled over his words and studied his expression. He seemed innocent, and yet nothing about his response told me definitively whether he’d known what happened last night in his absence.

“Have you not noticed that our number is much diminished?”

Florian dipped his head. “I assumed some would change their minds and return home once they heard the details about the competition.”

I blinked, lowering my voice. “Return home? Surely you know what really happened?”

He frowned, but before we could speak further, the song ended and Ji announced that it was time for us all to retire to our rooms so we could rest before our next test began after sunset.

My head was pounding as Callista and I retired to our rooms. Though I knew resting while we had the chance was vital to surviving this contest, my mind would not quiet when I lay down beside my sister.

She swiftly fell into a deep sleep, her rhythmic breathing soothing me.

All I could recall was the way Laura had gazed up at Kaede after he’d carried her down the tree, and then the glimpses I’d caught of them dancing together.

Of the way his gaze had burned into mine.

Of Bentley’s words about Kaede’s desire for revenge, and Glen’s declaration that the prince’s magic was tainted.

How much had Kaede changed? And did he care for Laura?

The prickle of jealousy growing in my heart made me feel even guiltier than ever.

Who was I to envy her after the way I’d betrayed Kaede?

I would be fortunate to survive this ordeal and to go on living in the human world, content with knowing Kaede lived.

But my foolish heart ached all the same, longing for a future that could never be, daring to imagine what it would be like if I was once again Kaede’s betrothed, but not in disguise. With these wishes in my heart, I fell asleep at last, drifting through memories.

We were only afforded a short nap before servants led us to the great hall once again.

“This time, you will each be alone as you complete this test,” Ji explained. He lifted his eyebrows. “You will show us your mettle, how well you could manage during a war. You will move pieces on a board signifying Willowbark’s army and enemy soldiers as you play against Willow Manor.”

Without further instructions, servants ushered us out of the hall, sweeping us each in different directions.

A stoic man with antlers shoved me unceremoniously into a round, windowless room with a large circular table in the center and a fire burning in a hearth opposite me.

He slammed the door and I heard the click of a bolt.

For a moment, I gathered my bearings, searching for additional exits, hidden or otherwise.

I knew I couldn’t escape this test. It was more a habit of my training, paired with my desire to avoid any nasty surprises.

What if “playing war” against the manor didn’t merely mean moving pieces on a board, but facing off against actual opponents?

I had to anticipate anything and everything. My only weapon was the dinner knife tucked into my boot.

Stepping forward, I surveyed the intricately painted board on the round table.

There were armchairs pushed in along its circumference, but I remained standing.

Tiny trees and hills and rivers and cities lay before me, making up the fae world of Brytwilde.

To the north of Willowbark was the ocean, and beyond that, the illustrations were vaguer, showing representations of the rainforests surrounding the capital of Emberglade and a symbol for the castle and its surrounding city, but little else.

Either this board hadn’t been updated since the war, or, even after that brief, bloody conflict, Emberglade was still mostly a mystery to the kingdom of Willowbark.

The green and gold pieces clearly represented Willowbark, while the red and black were for Emberglade. My breath caught when one of the Willowbark pieces moved across the board—a tiny wood carving of a ship—and settled in the Bittertide Ocean.

I wasn’t going to be representing Willowbark, as I’d expected. The manor was making me play as the enemy. That was no coincidence.

It knew who I was, and it was throwing my past in my face.

Grasping the little wooden rake designed to move pieces across the vast board, I settled my own ship replica in the ocean and frowned.

What is the true test? The manor could choose the rules of this war, after all. I could set piece after piece upon the board and watch it be swiped away, any attempts at strategy lost. I ran through Ji’s words again, the only instructions we’d received before this test.

You will show us your mettle, how well you could manage during a war.

The round table tilted, as if unseen hands had lifted it, startling me from my thoughts. While the Willowbark ship remained in place, mine slid from the table, landing on the floor with a clatter. I bit my lip as more green and gold ships flooded the Bittertide, pushing toward Emberglade’s shores.

I set out horses representing cavalry and carved men symbolizing foot soldiers, scattering them as ambushes in the thick jungle that ran along Emberglade’s shoreline, a natural defense against enemies approaching from the water.

Willowbark’s ships pressed nearer as I set a few lonely ships—Emberglade’s number was far smaller than Willowbark’s—in the port as a blockade against their advance.

The manor conceded one of its pieces, but as the ship slid from the table, clattering to the floor, a cry startled me. Breath snagging in my throat, I scanned the room again, searching for the unseen person. It had been a woman’s cry, full of pain. There was no one. Sweat beaded on my brow.

More of my ships followed. Willowbark was a stronger naval force than Emberglade, and apparently, the manor was ensuring our mock war reflected that.

I moved my pieces into position, forming a semicircle within the jungle to defend the castle further inland.

As a few Willowbark soldiers and horses settled on Emberglade’s shores, signifying that their forces had landed, I watched the table rock again, dislodging some of the green and gold pieces.

Thunk. Scream. Thunk. Whimper.

I held my breath, clammy fingers trembling at my sides, as I listened to the pieces fall and the continued noises of women in pain . Scared. Suffering.

Some of those voices sounded familiar.

Laura. Callista?

My stomach churned, and I squeezed my eyes shut as the room seemed to spin.

You will show us your mettle.

How well you can manage.

This wasn’t a test to determine if we could win a war with no clear rules and too many variables. It was a test to see how cold we could be, how well we could block out the suffering of our fellow humans. How ruthless we would let ourselves be in order to win.

My fingers trembled when I reached for the wooden rake.

In one move, I swept all of my pieces from the board.

The thuds echoed in my ears as agony spread through my body, pain that spasmed through my muscles and pounded in my head.

I couldn’t suppress my cry as my back arched and my fists clenched.

Sweat soaked my back and my ears rang. Blood pounded and throbbed through my veins, hot as flame. My skin was too tight; my lungs ached.

When I dared to look around, I found that tears swirled in my vision and more drenched my cheeks.

Another spasm of pain dropped me to the floor. I laid my head back, relieved to find the stone tile was cool against my skin, the only reprieve from the endless heat and pain that was devouring me.

But I would not get up. I would not touch another Emberglade piece again. I wouldn’t make the other women suffer, going through gods-knew-what each time I won a move.

I closed my eyes and curled into a ball, letting the tears flow, letting the ringing in my ears block out the continued cries from my fellow competitors as others played their own mock wars.

I had survived far worse. I could endure this.

Time lost meaning as I lay there, praying that my sister would be all right. Reciting songs and poetry I’d learned, counting and doing arithmetic in my head. Anything to try to block out the pain and the awfulness of the others’ screams.

At last, the agony ended. It happened so abruptly, I gasped. Cautiously, I sat upright, muscles shaking from the exertion. Every inch of me ached.

A creak drew my attention to the door as it swung inward, and Florian rushed to my side. “Ji met with the king and planned most of these tests,” he said with a scowl. “They’re sadistic.”

I wiped the tears from my cheeks. Part of me wanted to focus on his words and what they didn’t tell me—had he joined them in preparing the tests?—and question him to determine if I could trust him. But right now, that wasn’t my main concern.

When I spoke, my voice was raw, each word scraping up my throat like sand. “Is Callista safe?”

“Bentley went to her.” Florian offered his hand, and I saw no reason not to at least trust this small gesture of kindness.

“Please take me to her.” I imagined her in a room similar to mine, weeping on the floor.

But when we found our way back to the great hall, the other contestants were already gathered. Including my sister. Callista leaned on Bentley’s arm, her face pale and drawn.

“Callista!” I stumbled on my way to her, my muscles weak after holding them taut for so long against the onslaughts of pain.

Before Florian could grasp my elbow, I caught myself and pressed on.

Callista and the other girls appeared as weary and shaken as I felt, but I saw no visible wounds on anyone.

Like me, they must have suffered pain without actual injury.

I threw my arms around my sister, nearly knocking her over. She stifled a sob.

Brushing my hand through her hair, I blinked back the urge to weep again, this time in relief. “Are you alright?”