‘Drunk one?’ Elaith suggests.
‘Amusing. I was actually going to say the –’
‘Vain one?’ Cole finishes, swilling wine round his glass.
Flint shakes his head. ‘I see how it is. Cruel, the both of you. Heartless and cruel.’
Moments later the sound of the horns drowns out the din, and we sink to our knees, watching as they stride through the doors – the emperor and Lady Kestrel, followed by the Crowned Council. King Balen’s raven eyes find me among the crowd, flitting amusedly to his nephew at my side. I’m anticipating it, but it still unnerves me when it comes, that soft, silken whisper, meant only for me. ‘Making friends, little dove?’
I clench my jaw to keep from shivering.
The emperor mounts the golden steps leading up to the Imperial throne, and every last shred of newfound confidence turns to dust in my mouth as he announces that a date has been set for the first trial. And it is tomorrow.
Tomorrow.The word echoes through me, blunt and harsh.
I’m not remotely ready. Not yet. Maybe if I had more time … but then what’s the point in speculating?
‘I thought we’d have weeks yet,’ Elaith hisses as the crowd erupts.
‘Scared, little girl?’ Cole smirks. ‘That’s music to my ears.’
Elaith stamps on his foot, a few of the candles nearby flickering out. ‘You wish.’
Hal shoots me an apologetic look. He must have known the whole time. But before he can say anything, Flint puts an arm round me. ‘All right, sister mine?’
No, Flint, I’m not all right. I feel as though the emperor just announced my execution.
‘Fine,’ I say. ‘You?’
‘Fighting fit.’ There’s not even the slightest glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes. ‘I always have a few tricks up my sleeve.’
‘Oh, good,’ says Elaith, tugging at the sleeve of his red doublet. ‘Give some to me.’
The Heirs are soon herded towards the centre of the throne room, which is filled to bursting with the sound of voices as the Etheri descend on us. It turns out what Cole said about the Eyes placing bets on who will triumph in the trials was no fabrication. I hear the odds being discussed loudly among the courtiers.
Four to one on the Harglade boy.
No deal, he’s a shoo-in. His sister, on the other hand …
What’s the latest? Can she call the rain or not?
I bet fifty gold pieces she’ll summon another storm.
I bet fifty gold pieces she’ll crash and burn.
Elaith brings her head close to mine, her hair tickling my ear as she whispers, ‘Don’t worry, it’s all just a big game to them. Pay no attention.’
But that’s about as impossible as the crowd is impenetrable. We’re hemmed in so tightly that I can hardly move. I consider trying to crawl through them, but run the risk of being trampled. I’m also not sure this is what Hal had in mind when he told me to start acting like an Heir. And I doubt calling down a shower of rain would cast me in a particularly favourable light either. Though it might alter some bets.
When it gets to the point at which I think I might scream, a hand reaches through the throng and takes my arm, the grip strong but gentle.
‘Thank you,’ I say, as River guides me safely out of the throne room.
We walk together through the blissful silence of the hallways. After several minutes River glances at me.
‘May I ask what you’re thinking, Blaze?’
I stop walking. ‘For the first time in my life, I felt as though I was managing to stay afloat,’ I admit. ‘And I suppose I’ve just been reminded that I will always be out of my depth.’
