This was it. No one coming to save her. If there had ever been an opportunity to try and escape, it was now. She doubted she’d make it, but what did she have to lose? She weighed her odds against the powers in the room and her likelihood of survival and boiled it down to at the very least, a quicker death in an altercation. Surviving a fight was out of the question but maybe she could get them to kill her quicker if she fought with everything she had.
How did everything lead up to this? Sure, she wasn’t a shining example of a servant but she wasn’t a threat to anyone. It was a mistake. She’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time. There had to be something she could do—
And then it hit her.
So simple, yet so obvious.
Not much of a better chance, but itwasbetter.
It would buy her time.
Time to think.
Time to escape.
She rose to her feet.
Gritting her teeth, the current inside her pushed forcefully against her and she reigned control back in, guiding her channels to a steady flow, though they pushed to rage fiercely. She lifted her chin, squared back her shoulders, clearly and loudly declared, “I, Ambrose of Eltoria, first of my name, and servant to the crown, pledge my life and honor in name of the kingdom of Eltoria. I pledge my name and life to the Immortal Trials.”
Furious screams erupted all around her.
“She can’tdothat,” one slender noble cried in utter disgust.
“Unacceptable! It would make a mockery of the trials!” another shouted from behind a goblet of wine that she crushed in her fist.
“She’s acriminal,” another spat in hatred as he waved his hands in the air.
For the first time the whole trial, the king’s brother turned his full attention to the display, a wicked look across his features.
Casimir stood, not enraged by her pledge as she thought he would be, but with a sharp-toothed grin so large, it stretched all the way to his eyes. Ice cracked from the floor where his feet touched the intricate carpet. He seemed… pleased.
King Tallis pulled his sword high above his head, the sound of metal grating stone as he lifted it. “SILENCE.” The room fell reluctantly but quickly quiet again. “A pledge is Divine Law. Once a name has been put forward, no nation, no king, nor god may stop them. Only fate will determine the future of a Champion.”
He recited it perfectly from the Divine Law contract that every kingdom followed and knew by heart. Divine Law had authority even over the gods themselves. No one could keep her from putting her name in, and now that she had, no one could harm her either. At least not until the tournament began, but thankfully, that wasn’t for another six months. Six months to figure out a way to escape her fate… to escape almost certain death. She’d figure out where she would go later, the details unimportant. There had to be one corner of the world the gods couldn’t reach. Somewhere.
“He is correct…” Casimir hummed, drinking in the moment. “As of now, Ambrose is no longer a servant, but a Trial Champion. Given the full autonomy of one. No one may harm her outside of an agreed upon duel between her and another Trial Champion. I will remind you all no one is exempt from the law or safe from the consequences of breaking it. I will remain in Eltoria until the tournament has finished and we’ve seen the results of her participation. Law is law.” Casimir finished.
“Law is law.” The nobles chanted back.
Ambrose clutched her hands to her chest.
She did it.
She had six months to figure out an escape plan. Six months to save herself before the tournament began. Six months to find a way to escape the gods forever. She released a shuddered breath and held back the sob that clawed for release.
Casimir placed a closed fist over his heart, and bowed at the waist to Ambrose. “Bold move.” The grin he gave her made her want to crawl out of her skin.
“I wouldn’t underestimate me,” she shot back at him, her voice dripping with distaste.
He couldn’t touch her.
No one could.
For the first time in her life no one could hurt her.
“I certainly won’t make that mistake again, will I?” He winked, his emerald eyes flashing with something she couldn’t fully identify as he tossed his well-manicured blond locks over his shoulder.
Was he impressed?
