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My ears burned.
“Is that you?” Magda hissed in my ear.
I shook my head and glanced toward the door. I knew what was coming next, and I could already feel my stomach going sour. The doorway wasn’t empty. Maestra Cecelia blocked the exit. She was wearing a sleeping robe. Her arms were crossed, but her nostrils were flared as she stared at me on screen.
I waited for her to look at me, to reveal her inner thoughts when I heard a button click come from the small screen.
The soft screech of the vents overhead sounded, and hissing accompanied black smoke which filled the room.
Some people jumped when the recording of me launched at the two-way mirror and collided with a loud crash. I watched myself beg for my life.
Glancing to the side, I saw that Magda’s breathing went slow as she watched the hair she had styled come out of my bun. I gripped the counter behind me, trying not to look at the screen, but it didn’t stop the way my limbs shook. My body remembered everything that had happened.
Air refused to make its way down my throat. In real life, an ugly choking sound erupted from my lungs, and a few people turned to look at me. I started forward, but a cold, muscular arm wrapped around me. Then a soft, warm one followed.
Magda and Cecelia patted my back as they dragged me toward the door.
Aurora looked up and said, “Calm down. It’s a video,” as Cecelia, Magda, and I reached the doorframe.
“She’s so dramatic,” Aurora said to her friends, and Fernando popped out from his hiding place.
“Is she okay?” he asked.
“Quiet!” Cecelia barked when the small screen filled with light and my skin started to glow.
All of the air in the room bent towards me, I felt it swirl around my head, as if probing me. I gasped once again, and more air went in. My lungs would have screamed their gratitude. The actor that they’d hired to play the first King had been a poor substitute for what the magic looked like.
It was like watching a star go supernova.
The woman inside of the room screamed, and Antonio yelled,“Stop the camera!”
Everyone gasped.
The brilliant light dimmed, and left me in its place. That same ethereal girl with golden skin and hair stared directly at the camera.
I knew what would happen next, and I braced myself for the challenging voice I used when I dared them to speak with me now. All I could think about was that my life was over.
Antonio Castillas’ life was over.
The screen cut soon after I smiled, and the familiar face of the Canciller grinning came onto camera.
Applause thundered, and he nodded as if soaking up their adoration.
People all around me whispered excitedly. I couldn’t blame them—what had happened was extraordinary.
Canciller Duarte held up his hands. “I know, I know. Imagine how I felt when this was presented to me yesterday. I couldn’t believe my eyes.” The powerful man stepped to the side and held out his arm, awaiting someone to join him.
I was still trying to focus on breathing in and out and Antonio Castillas appeared on camera. His dazzling smile shocked the air right out of me all over again.
“Our beloved former ex-Campeón Castillas discovered this magnificent girl. The commonwealth is delighted to announce that Antonio will indeed be mentoring Renata Valarde Bordón!”
The crowd went wild, but time stopped. My brain separated conscious thought from bodily sensation. I couldn’t move, so I stared at Antonio’s face as he took over the pulpit.
I could acknowledge that it was a magnificent spectacle. One of the most loved and prolific champions of the tournaments coming together with this strange young woman.
I blinked, and time resumed.
That strange girl was me.
