Page 41 of Fae Trials

“What was that?” asked Helen.

“I know him.”

“Pay attention,” said Flora. “The princes are about to say something.”

Prince August flew up on a podium positioned by the wall to a loud fanfare of trumpets. “As you can see, there are only four eligible princes.”

The smugness in Prince August’s voice carried across the room, making me suspect he secretly enjoyed the spectacle of girls fighting over him and his brothers. He held out his palm, spreading his fingers wide. “Four princes and five potential mates.”

Prince Rory flew to Prince August’s side, his green eyes gleaming with delight. “To thin out the number of mates, Mistress Ellyllon has authorized a trial to the death.”

The students sitting around the tables cheered. Some stood from their seats to wave their arms and stamp their feet. Fury surged through my veins. Since when was someone fighting to the death deemed entertainment? I glanced across the room to where I had found Elijah, and he stared straight into my eyes.

My breath caught, my heart clenched, and my hand flew to my chest. He recognized me!

Elijah’s lips curved into the kind of smile he gave me when I would complain about having been cheated by a hag or insulted by a faerie. Sympathetic. Understanding. As though he shared my frustration with the Isle of Fae, and that was what kept us connected.

His smile broadened, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

Flora clamped an arm around my wrist. “Pay attention! They’re about to announce the rules.”

“According to the lore, whoever authorizes the challenge must also be its host,” said Prince August. “As such, no hostilities will take place outside the academy grounds. All violence must be conducted by the contestants themselves and not hired out to third parties for assassinations.”

I shot the floating faeries a filthy glower. Neither of them seemed good at marksmanship, and I doubted they had shot the poisoned arrow themselves. It also meant that they couldn’t hire a pixie to slip poison in my soup.

“There will be three challenges.” Prince August held up three fingers. “Each to be announced at least an hour before they start, and at any time during the trial, we may alter our requirements for the candidates as we see fit.”

“Great,” I muttered. So they wanted to make things up as they went along. This hardly seemed fair.

“We also reserve the right to continue the trial until our bonds are consummated,” Prince August said with a smirk.

My brows drew together. Did that mean they wanted to have sex with the contestants?

“Oh, no,” said Helen.

“What?” I turned to my new friend.

She drummed her fingers on the table, upsetting the array of forks at the left of her plate. “Queen Maeve once proclaimed two rival families to combat each other over a land dispute. The trial lasted fifty-four years, with family members dying in a series of battles.”

“Who won?” I asked.

“Nobody,” Helen said with a sigh. “They battled themselves into extinction, and when the last member of the families succumbed to mass poisoning, the queen took the land for herself and turned it into a water garden.”

I slid into my seat. “So, they want the girls to fight to the death?”

“They’re reserving that right,” said Helen.

Sucking in deep, ragged breaths, I glanced at Prince August’s left to find Prince Rory grinning at a horrified-looking Lady Gala.

“The halfling’s going to die!” someone shouted from a nearby table.

Laughter filled the dining hall. The pixies broke into high-pitched peals, exposing tiny, serrated teeth. Narrowing my eyes, I no longer thought them so beautiful.

Prince Rory rubbed his hands together and grinned. “The first trial will take place tomorrow and will be a test of magic.” He turned to me, his eyes hard. “Ready yourself for anything, because failure will mean death.”

After the princes took their seats, the Fated floated down to their table and continued their dinner. I locked gazes with Elijah, who gave me a knowing look and swept toward the exit. Just before he left, he paused to say something to Pokeweed, who nodded and trudged back to the kitchen with his shoulders slumped.

I picked up a silver spoon and placed it into my soup bowl.