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Twenty-Five
DAWN
The archway leading into the royal gardens is both breathtaking and vicious all at once.
Black and crimson flowers crowd the old stone, vines spilling between them, but hooked thorns twist through the flowers. It’s difficult not to imagine myself torn up if I get too close.
Through the arch, the royal garden grounds came into view. Hundreds of guests linger around, chatting to each other, drinking, studying the statues of naked women. Which is an odd thing.
After the guards pat down each monster in my company and remove their weapons, they wave us in.
Music greets us, and it’s impossible to not be mesmerized by the beauty and wealth behind this gathering. Guests wear silks and jewels, and even in my glinting silver dress, I feel underdressed. It has no straps, with a tight bodice and buttons down the front. The skirt tumbles to my ankles. I opted for flat shoes, knowing I’d struggle with heels on the lawn.
“A lot of guards for a simple party,” Corvin whispers over to Lian.
I doubt I’d call this simple, but as royals, I can only imagine the eloquent balls and banquets they’ve attended.
To our right stands an oversized fountain with a gold mermaid statue in the middle, tail curled beneath her, hair caught fluttering in the breeze, her breasts large and exposed.
Guests fill the space around us, gathering in groups to chat, others enjoying the food offered by servers wearing deep-purple uniforms.
I glance around and notice the king moving among his visitors, laughing and engaging with them. Close behind him, several guards watch everything.
He wears black pants and polished shoes, along with a deep-violet jacket fitted to his body and buttoned to his throat. The king is a large man, as tall as my men and towering over most, his chest and arms thick with muscles. Gold glints from his cuffs, collar, and ears. Black hair frames his handsome face, tumbling to his shoulders. It makes me wonder why someone like him doesn’t have a wife or a partner at his side. Based on the sheer number of statues in this garden, he clearly appreciates the female form.
The nobles he talks to seem to freeze in awe, staring at him, and I almost laugh at the impact he has on others. Then I recall how terrifying he was yesterday when he revealed part of his monster form, and I pray I never see him fully transformed.
We wander forward, Lian and Corvin in their element, helping themselves to food and drinks, looking down their noses at everyone else, which makes me laugh. Kazak remains at my side, more of a sentient protector than an attendee.
At least the three of them aren’t trying to kill each other for once, though I’ll admit, with Kazak having joined us, the other two are behaving less homicidal toward each other. Which is a nice change.
A server wanders past with a gold platter of fried rice balls with small sticks in them, so I grab one quickly and pop it into my mouth. It’s savory with tiny bursts of sweetness from the sultanas. Delicious.
Lian’s at my side, his hand on my elbow. “Did I mention how gorgeous you are today?”
The edges of my lips curl upward on cue, and I glance over, noticing that Corvin’s attention sweeps over to me as well. He gives me one of his captivating winks, and my stomach flutters.
Kazak leans in too, his hand sliding across my lower back, and I smile in return. I realize how fortunate I am for such attention, and how much they mean to me. The red moon is over a week away, and I’ve been adamant since the Selection Portal that I’d select Kazak. But now with Lian bearing my name from our bond, and Corvin calling to me with his mere presence, I’m unsure who I’m meant to select.
With my luck, given how things have been going, it’ll end in catastrophe.
A horn blares, and I flinch.
The crowd suddenly breaks into cheers and applause, crowding toward the rear of the gardens, so we’re moving closer to find out what’s going on. Beyond the crowd, a towering arch of thorns stands where a couple have emerged. They’re gasping for air, cheeks flushed as if they’ve been running, despite wearing fancy clothing. The man carries what appears to be a small golden chalice. He lifts it into the air, sending the crowd into a wild cheer.
King Slate strides up to them and shakes their hands, but we’re too far away to hear what he murmurs to them.
Leaning in closer to Kazak, I ask, “Do you know the king well from Grimvale?”
“I never had the privilege. He dealt with the other three courts, and mostly with the kings. Though, I heard many rumors.” He lowers his voice. “Apparently, his father cast him out of their world after he’d killed his older brother, the heir to the throne.”
My breath hitches, and I lift my gaze to the king, where he’s laughing with someone. Chills run down my spine.
“If the stories are true, he’s a very clever and dangerous man. He knows how to claw his way up from being exiled—all the way to becoming the king of a human territory.”
At once, the king lifts his hand, and his audience falls silent.
“My friends,” he begins, raising his voice. “Most of us are familiar with the yearly traditions of our amusements, including the Garden Maze Challenge. Today we have guests attending from a realm that holds a special place for me. What kind of king would I be if I didn’t extend them the privilege to participate?”
