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I felt my cheeks redden as I scrambled for an answer. “Renata,” I said loudly. "I'm sorry I haven't heard of you."
There was a beat, and Isabela laughed. “Hmm, what is your name?"
“Valeria,” she said after a second, drawing the syllables out to emphasize each one.
This was power. It felt good.
“Nice to meet you,” I said with a forced smile, stepping into the hot water. "Perhaps we'll see each other at dinner." Then I spent another ten minutes soaking and cleaning.
Once finished, I took my time walking over to the towels and suits and pulled them up over my skin. After being satisfied I was dry enough to go outside, I walked out of the wooden doors.
Isaac was sitting around a fire with a large group of competitors. A large camera crew had also set up, and one pointed a camera at me when he saw me exit. Right on cue, Isaac stood up and started walking over. I continued to survey the competitors, marveling at how many were there. When Isabela and I had gone inside, there had been so few, and now there were easily more than a hundred.
“Finally. Time to eat,” Isaac said, his green eyes reflecting the moonlight as he pointed toward a large tent set up in the center of the encampment. As he closed in next to me, I stiffened. He was always here, always coming to my side, marking his territory.
The air buzzed with anticipation, pain, and fatigue. As we walked past a smaller tent, I could see the wounded competitors who had recently arrived, their faces etched with determination and despair while tending to the last of their injuries. Some of them were far weaker than me, with a reserve that left them with ugly scars. I shuddered at the sight but couldn't help but admire their resilience. Thankfully, the wolves seemed to have fled after the recent quakes, but I didn’t trust the calm.
I grabbed Isaac's outstretched arm. "Does it seem hotter to you?"
He shrugged. "You worry too much, Rena. You’re healed. We were the first ones here. For the next few hours, we are free from care. We can just rest.”
That made me pause while I recalled one of the things Maestro Joaquín had told us in a planning meeting. “Don’t they try to poison people at this dinner?”
Isaac laughed. “They didn’t tell you?”
I drew my eyebrows together, confusion displaying itself across my features. “They told me that someone gets poisoned at this dinner.”
More smirking. “Of course they do—we all do. It’s a game of poisons. Heal yourself or go home. It’s never televised, but it’s tradition.” He puffed his chest out with pride.
I gave him one last gaping look of horror before we went inside.
Entering the tent was like stepping into another world. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meats, and a symphony of laughter and conversation floated around us as Isaac led me further inside. My eyes were immediately drawn to an elegantly crafted wine fountain at the center of the room, crimson liquid flowing down its intricate tiers. I longed for the soft inebriation it promised, craving an escape from the crushing weight of reality.
"Time to find our name tags,” Isaac said, gesturing toward a small table off to the side. It was beautiful, with two tablecloths, pristine place settings, and a small tray with two cups in the middle of each table. My eyes snagged on the small, sharp knife beside the white napkins.
Isaac guided me through the crowd of people, and his strong fingers wrapped protectively around my wrist. As we settled into our seats, the din seemed to dull ever so slightly, allowing me to catch my breath.
My heart raced as I surveyed the room. The tent had about fifty tables, each with two chairs. "Isaac," I gasped, "We're really going to play with poisons first and then eat afterward?"
He smiled lightly and nodded. "Yes. Relax, it's just a game.”
"But I just spent the last two days in danger. I broke my leg, and I still feel weak." I took another look at the large group of us. "Besides, this will take forever, and we need to sleep. There are fifty tables at least."
“A few less than sixty-four, actually. We were lucky with an even number this time, but the quake took out about sixteen people. Rena, my love, sit.” He touched my shoulder, and I fought the urge to flinch and tell him to stop putting his hands on me. But I didn't want to cause a scene. Not yet. I'd save that for later.
“Don’t worry so much. First, there are only six rounds. Second, you have the most famous Blood Magic in Arrebol. You can do this. It's all part of the initiation into society. You're much harder to steal from if you can't die. A highly desirable quality in a wife."
I took a deep breath, trying and failing to hold my breath. "I don't want to be your wife."
He shook his head. "It won't matter once we win the whole tournament. Which, to be fair, our odds are looking better every day."
I stepped away from him. I hope it killed him that I didn't want to be at his side.
More people started piling in, and, to my surprise, Isaac went up to the front. Sometimes it was easy to forget how important he was to these people. Isaac was a persistent, aggravating young man. I didn't look at him as the Canciller's cousin.
"¡Hola chavales!" Isaac called, and a riotous few competitors roared back. "Are we ready for some fun?"
The answering shout rattled my bones. Why were they so excited about this?
