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“I challenge the future duchess to roam the maze.”
The crowd explodes, screams, applauds.
I haven’t opened the maze once in the fifteen years of my reign, yet I cannot think of a punishment more fitting.
The silver labyrinth was designed as a respite for my ancestor, the halfblood king who conquered both islands, who stole the strongest woman of Xhera and made her his queen. To anyone but those of my blood, this place is torment, an ever-changing personal nightmare.
“And what are the stakes?” My regent’s glaring at me, his anger barely concealed.
She’s his stepdaughter, and he doesn’t appreciate my calling her out.
It’s about time he learns I am king.
“For getting out of the maze?” I chuckle. “Well, the crown jewels are at the center. It’s the lady’s choice.”
No one is expected to solve the maze; the challenge is to endure as long as possible.
“No one gets that far,” Salvar Rhodes seethes. “It is custom to provide a boon for those who remain inside for a determined amount of time, your highness.”
True, but she won’t last ten minutes before begging to be rescued, and my court will see her for what she is.
“Sal, Sal. You drive a hard bargain. Say your girl stays an hour, she will be honored above anyone in the court. Two, and she may have her weight in gold. If she stays till dawn,” I don’t try to contain my laughter, “I’ll make her queen.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
INTO THE FIRE
The maze.
There is no doubt in my mind that he’s referring to the complex, immense construction I was so taken with when we arrived. I’d wanted to see it closer then. Now, with Zale standing proud, victorious, and cruel, I’m nervous about getting that wish fulfilled.
I read nothing of a maze in my research about Ravelyn, which unsettles me further. I rarely go into any situation without thorough preparation.
The king’s triumphant smirk says it all. I am in too far over my head. Not only am I expected to fail, I’m also likely to suffer.
There’s something unsettling in seeing Zale like this; he wears only slacks and a shirt open to almost his navel, even more casual than his usual debonair attire, but I don’t miss the silver crown on his messy white-blond hair, or the large signet ring at his right hand.
“Well, if she gets to compete for the crown, so should I!” someone screams, interrupting my glaring at Zale.
He breaks eye contact first, looking over at a woman at the front of the crowd, close to the platform holding his marbled stone throne.
I’m surprised to recognize Adelaid from alchemy, dressed in a form-fitting white gown with a deep plunge at the front and back.
Murmurs of agreement cross the court, though no one dares to express themselves as brazenly.
Zale is unbothered. “By all means, you may all enter the maze, and the stakes remain the same.”
If Zale trusts none of the magik wielders here could hope to remain a single hour, though they’re familiar with this place, the maze is more dangerous than I can dream.
The king lets go of my hand to walk through the great hall. After seven strides, he looks back. “Well? Any day now.”
I bite my lip, and reluctantly follow him out of the hall, trailed by the rest of the court.
We reach a grand staircase leading upward and splitting into two branches that head down, into an empty darkness.
I already regret my choice of clothing. My gown drops to the floor; carefully, I walk down the flight of stairs, until we reach the most imposing sets of doors I’ve ever beheld.
Identical ugly faces frozen in screams greet us at eye level on either side of the scarlet double doors, surrounded by snakes and spiders as large as dogs. I survey the horrible art, distinguishing scarabs and poisonous plants, giant worms and wasps in the carvings.
