“Little Rose,” he smirked as he rose from his seat and swept to the door on the left of the room. “This will be your room.” Inside the room was a bed bigger than even the grand dining table. Satin and sheer waves of magentapoured over the top as the comforter spread across the surface, stacked with pillows that could’ve made a mattress of their own. The bed easily could’ve held eight—nine—maybe more beings on it. Curtains closed over the only window in the room, which was too high to reach and was more of a cross between a skylight and a window. The walls a rich purple so dark it was almost black with a rug at the base of the bed made of a snow panther’s pelt.
A light peach marble covered every inch of the bathing room, the large bathtub and washing basin a brilliantly polished copper that glinted under the firelights. The bathing chamber itself was almost the size of the bed chamber with large mirrors along the walls. Ambrose had always been forced to share the servants’ bathing chamber with the rest of them. It was the time they all got together and chatted freely and away from the nobles. The girls would discuss the most interesting parts of what they’d seen that day, gossiping and sharing about the nobility, what was going on among the servants, that bathing alone seemed almost a sad thought. A luxury she never thought she’d have.
“You’ll sleep and bathe here,” Akadian told her from the doorway where he’d been watching her every move as she took it all in. “Your group training will continue with Magnus as usual however you’ll now be doing private lessons as well. The Grand Mage will do his best to get you ready for the arena. You’ll also be starting fighting lessons.” He cocked his head as he studied her. “Although, seeing the body of that guard, something tells me you won’t be needing them.”
Pulse racing, she admitted, “I didn’t mean to kill him.”
“You could’ve fooled me.” He shrugged from the doorway, lips parting into a smile. “You did an expert job.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment? Am I supposed to say ‘thank you’?” she sneered. He said it like she should be proud.
“Yes. And I don’t give them out lightly.”
“I’ll let you know when I care about your compliments.” She threw all the hate she could into the look she gave him.
“Then you won’t get another one.” His face went cold and whatevertwisted fun he seemed to be having evaporated with his smile. With that, he turned on his heel and slammed the door shut behind him, locking it firmly on his way out.
“No!” she cried, lunging for the door as the lock clicked in place. She pushed and shoved with everything she had but the door wouldn’t budge. Trapped, Ambrose desperately searched the room for any means of escape. The window was too high, she could never reach it, and there were no passageways to be found, the only exit being the one that had just turned the room into a vault.
Too exhausted to move to the bed, she slumped to the ground and brought her knees into her chest. She wondered what Ernaline was doing and if she’d heard the news yet. If so, she was probably terrified for her. The two of them always joked about how one would have to be insane to pledge their name. How absurdly impossible the trials were. All these years and not once had anyone become a Champion. No one even knew what the trials consisted of after the Champion’s Tournament since no one had ever made it that far. Even if she did manage to win the tournament, there was no telling what horrors awaited her in the trials afterwards. To even try was certain death.
Adym would’ve heard by now, being part of the guard. No doubt informed that his sister was a criminal twice over—once for being born, and now for murder—and that she’d be entering the trials. She wished she could talk to them. Explain to her brother what happened. Ernaline would forgive her, but Adym… he’d taught her to fight. How could he know those skills would end up taking someone’s life by her hand? Would he forgive her? Where were they now?
The tears she’d been holding back all day came spilling forward as the day played over and over in her mind. Each moment repeating itself until burned into her memory forever. She let herself grieve for everything she’d been feeling for her entire life. For all the pain and resentment she held growing up under the thumb of a kingdom given power by absent gods. For every moment she had to live in fear, never knowing what could happen the next day. For a brother that wanted deeply to help her, but could onlyever do it in his own way. She cried for every servant in Almuria. Trapped with no way out. She cried for every child forced to grow in a world that was dangerous to exist in for so many. Where a choice as simple as a stolen loaf of bread could condemn them and their entire line of descendants to servitude to a harsh and terrorizing empire. She cried for Almuria and the world they lived in. She cried all afternoon and into the night where no one disturbed her.
For the first time in her entire life, Ambrose was completely alone.
That night she dreamed of a glowing forest centered around a tree. She dreamed of an Almuria where everyone was free and she could explore the kingdoms to her heart’s desire. She dreamed of beings who were equal, and a just world for them to live in.
She dreamed of another life.
Chapter 9
The next few days went by in a blur. More like a dream than waking hours. Or a nightmare. One Ambrose was completely unable to wake from.
She’d been given a dark red dress that hugged her chest, waist and hips, but thanks to a high slit up each side of the leg, it moved freely and comfortably. Underneath, she wore light leather pants, thin enough for comfort and mobility, and a new dragon leather corset strapped around her sternum. Akadian had gifted it to her two days after her trial with a gruff,“You’ll be needing this.”
It only made her long for the one her brother had given her. Her new one was crafted from a deep red leather with gold detailing, and while it was beautiful, it wasn’thercorset.
She’d been barred from going back to the servant dorms, and hadn’t seen Ernaline, nor Adym, since her trial. Sneaking out for their nightly training sessions now impossible under Akadian’s watchful eye. She was allowed to roam freely around the palace, however no matter where she went, unless it was private lessons with Magnus, Akadian was right behind her. Silently with her.
Adym was smart. She knew he wouldn’t risk it and hadn’t left the palace at night since their last session, and was lying low. Murmurs of a servant with the sword skills to kill a guard traveled like Wyldfire and the royals had already begun investigating how she’d come to acquire those skills. Members of the guard would be obvious first suspects. Though it was impossible, she wished she could see his worried smile once again. Hernow white braid fell down her back and she wondered if he would even recognize her anymore.
Unable to see any of her friends, Ambrose had been subjected to the random, annoyed sounds the prince made throughout the day. If he bothered to acknowledge her at all. The rest of the time, he’d taken to posting quietly behind her wherever she went. Each night he locked her door without a word and she’d hear his own shut moments later, and only then, would she finally be alone. Those moments had become something precious to her. When the rest of the world no longer existed, and for some stolen, quiet moments, she was the only one left.
At least today she had her first private lesson with Magnus. A few days stretched for an eternity since the last time she’d seen him. How different everything had become so quickly. Standing in the courtyard, watching him clap his hands joyfully now felt like a lifetime ago.
“When can I visit my quarters? I have some personal items I’d like to retrieve,” Ambrose asked for the tenth time. She knew what he was going to say and his answer still annoyed her. The trip to Magnus’ office used to be something she looked forward to, now it was like being watched by the kingdom’s worst guard dog.
“As I’ve said,” Akadian told her, his annoyance mirroring hers, “if you have anything to retrieve, I can get it for you.” A bluff, the prince would never be caught dead in that area of the palace. “Casimir has forbidden the servants from engaging with you and you with them. While he can’t punish you, he can certainly punish them. By all means, if you don’t care what happens to your friends, be my guest.”
“Is that why you’ve been getting my dressings every day like a lady maid?” She taunted him, but deep down was quite happy to have colors to wear now, instead of the white cages she’d worn her entire life. The world was so much warmer with color in it.
“Yes,” he replied sharply. “Watch it, Little Rose.”
“Ambrose,” she bit back, “I thought the title Trial Champion came with the full autonomy of one?” She rolled her eyes, quoting Casimir.
“It does.”
