Page 39

RYN

Ryn awoke to Matthias gently shaking her shoulder. “Ryn,” he said. “I was calling for you outside, but you didn’t answer.”

Ryn lifted her head from her pillow. She scanned the room with tired eyes until she spotted Heva snoring on the couch in the living space.

Matthias held up a card of thick, glossy paper. “The organizers were here. I wouldn’t let them in without your permission though, so they left this.” He passed it to her.

Ryn rubbed her eyes and took the card. When she unfolded it, gold letters glimmered across the page in the Weylin alphabet. She flipped it over. There was nothing on the back. “What is this?”

Matthias scratched his head. “Well, the organizers wanted to explain the rules to you themselves, so I kept calling, but… Anyway, I think I got the basics out of them on my own. It’s for your first match.”

“Match? Like a duel?”

“A theoretical duel. It’s a contest,” he explained.

Ryn climbed to her knees. “You mean there are actually trials in the Heartstealer trials? I thought that was just a flashy name.”

“Let me read it for you.” Mattias took the card and cleared his throat.

“Trial Card: A Battle of the Senses. Sound, Touch, Smell, or Taste.” He tossed the card aside.

“You need to pick one of the five senses, except for sight. So, no paintings or anything. And you need to present a skill to the King to try and capture his interest. I suggest you play the harp. Sound is a lovely choice.” Matthias smiled.

“It’s the day after tomorrow, so you’d have plenty of time to practice. ”

Ryn huffed in disbelief. Xerxes wanted all the maidens to try and impress him? That didn’t sound like him at all.

Although… she wasn’t sure she knew what he wanted anymore.

“He’s going to be blindfolded,” Matthias went on. “That’s why you can’t choose sight. You have to appeal to one of the other senses.”

Ryn dropped the note to her lap. “Blindfolded?”

Blindfolded…

The room tilted as that settled in. Kai’s letter said the King would be blindfolded on the night B’rei Mira spies would assassinate him.

“Why do you look so pale?” Matthias asked. “Are you all right, Ryn? Do you want me to get you a cup of water?”

Ryn glanced up at her friend. Her oldest friend in these palace walls.

He hadn’t put the pieces together yet, she realized.

It hadn’t crossed his mind that whatever trial this was, it was happening on the same night the B’rei Mira soldiers were coming.

And as Ryn saw the soft flush of Matthias’s cheeks, and the kind look in his eyes that made her wonder if he’d ever had to raise a sword against someone, she decided it was better that way.

“Matthias,” Ryn said, folding the card and setting it aside. “I think you should stay back from this contest. I have something for you to deliver to the Priesthood anyway, so you can go that night since I’ll be… safe… around hundreds of people.”

Matthias shrugged. “Sure. What is it?”

Ryn’s face changed; she hadn’t thought that far. “I’ll… let you know.”

Her lie was too obvious. Matthias studied her for a moment, then he grinned. “Why don’t you want me to be there, Ryn? Are you going to flirt shamelessly with the King? Are you worried I’ll be repulsed?”

A hot blush hit her face. “Absolutely not!” She grabbed her pillow and threw it at him.

Matthias snorted a laugh and waved her off. “You should bathe, Ryn,” he advised as he headed to the door. “You smell like rotting food.”

Ryn glanced down at her dress from yesterday, stained with grape juice and shiny splotches of oil. She lifted her skirt and sniffed it.

Divinities, she did need a bath.

She slid off the bed, snuck past snoring Heva, and followed Matthias outside, gently closing the door behind her.

“You’re going to the baths alone?” Matthias asked. “What about Heva?”

“She’s exhausted. You should have seen what we did yesterday. And it was twice as bad for Heva because she spent the whole day yelling on top of everything.” Ryn smirked as she remembered. “I’ll slip to the baths and return before she wakes.”

“I’ll accompany you,” Matthias decided.

“No! Matthias, you can’t accompany me to the baths .” She rolled her eyes. “Just stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Matthias looked unsure, but he stepped back to his post outside her door.

Ryn headed down the hall toward the women’s bath chambers, listening to the chatter seeping down the hallways from the atrium.

She ignored it as she rounded the bend. Her arms and legs were itchy from the dried fruit juice, and she wondered what sort of condition her bed was in after she’d slept in it like this.

“Maiden.” Ryn looked up as she entered the atrium. She was at the edge of the great glass room, not in everyone’s view, but where enough people could see her. She crossed her arms to hide her spoiled dress and kept her head low.

Damon stood there, eyeing her attire. “Did you roll around on a table of food?” he guessed.

Ryn took inventory of those nearby. She stepped left so the fountain would obstruct the view between her and a group of nobles.

“It’s none of your business,” she said. “I’m on my way to the baths.

Excuse me.” She moved to pass him, but Damon took hold of her sleeve.

She lurched to a halt when he didn’t let go and her sleeve nearly slipped off her shoulder and revealed her bare skin to the room.

A choice word burned on her tongue as she turned back, but the words locked in her mouth when she found Damon hovering close, his purple lips right by her ear.

“Are you trying to run away from me, Lady Estheryn?” he asked quietly. He tugged her sleeve again, forcing her to brush up against him so it wouldn’t slide off.

The servants throughout the atrium parted, standing at attention. Ryn’s gaze snapped to them, and her gut recoiled when she spotted Xerxes coming their way, his brows furrowed, his jaw set. It was the first she was seeing him since…

Since…

Ryn took hold of her sleeve and yanked, but Damon held tight. She glanced to the hallway, toward her chambers. The sage bit back a smile and leaned in ever so slightly like they were sharing a secret. He did nothing else; he just stayed that way.

Xerxes passed by them. He looked indifferent, focused on something else. It was just the brief dart of his gaze over to Damon’s back that made Ryn flinch.

Xerxes’s stare was ahead again when he marched out the front doors of the palace and into the gardens with several dozen Folke trailing him.

Ryn’s shoulders dropped in relief. He hadn’t seen her while she was such a mess, hadn’t spotted her this close to Damon and formed the wrong idea—not that it mattered, she realized.

Xerxes had gotten serious about choosing a queen, and Ryn was just the maiden he needed for a cure.

Ryn leaned forward to peer out the lobby’s front entrance where he left. No, she hadn’t wanted him to see her. But still, her chest grew hollow when she thought of how he hadn’t even noticed she was standing right there.

She tore Damon’s fingers off her sleeve; he let it go this time. A slow, crawling smile found his mouth. “Enjoy your bath, Maiden,” he said. It left a dirty feeling over Ryn’s skin as he turned and left.

She shuddered and headed for the baths, not stopping again even when servants noticed her dress and asked her questions.

She spent two hours scrubbing herself clean, and still never felt clean enough.

The air grew chilly. Rising winds dried Ryn’s hair as dark storm clouds rolled over the garden. Rain covered the Mother City in the distance, and it would reach the palace soon—the distant echo of pattering drops swept in.

“El,” she whispered. “Tell me how to silence his voices so I can leave.”

The wind was too loud for anyone to hear her prayers, even if others had been in the garden.

A warm, breezy embrace surrounded her amidst the cold. She closed her eyes, letting it soothe her aches and worries.

“It’s not about his voices, Adassah. It’s about all the other things you’ll do first.”

She opened her eyes and chewed on her lower lip. Then she tugged at her damp hair.

“Ryn!” Heva called from her chambers window high above. “Come up for a fighting lesson!”

“Here?” Ryn asked in dismay.

“In your rooms! It’s not like we can go to the First Temple anyway! And it’s going to rain soon so the garden will be full of mud—”

“All right, all right! Just stop shouting!” Ryn waved at her. She looked around the garden for witnesses, then she climbed back up to her rooms.

“Which skill are you choosing for the senses trial?” Heva asked as Ryn pulled herself over the windowsill. Heva fetched El’s sword from the wardrobe and went to a large woven sack on the floor. She opened it and began pulling out armour plates.

“I don’t know,” Ryn admitted. “What’s all that?”

“It’s my spare armour. I’m not going easy on you this time,” Heva stated, “so you should wear this. Otherwise, everyone at the senses trial will wonder why you’re covered in bruises.”

Heva threw a pauldron at Ryn before she was ready. It flew past and smacked off the bedpost, sending a loud ringing sound through the room.

The door tore open, and Matthias rushed in. “What happened?” he asked, and Heva grinned.

“Nothing, Priest. Just stay outside and make sure no one comes in for the next hour,” she said.

Ryn stifled a moan and rolled her shoulder as she headed through the winding halls toward the Abandoned Temple. The whole palace smelled of baking ginger cookies. Whispering servants claimed they were for a traditional celebration relating to the royal family, but Ryn knew nothing about it.

She passed a domed window feature, and the late afternoon sun burned against the glass, momentarily blinding her as she moved into the next hall, squinting and rubbing her eyes. Not even a torch was lit to warn her what was waiting on the other side.

She walked into someone leaning against the wall. “Sorry—”