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He opened the door, and right away, the wind whipped inside, stealing my breath. Once I’d pulled the cloak tighter around me, and I could breathe again, I peered out. Mounds of blinding, white, glittering snow on either side of a manicured path stared back at us, but there wasn’t a soul in sight.
“Is this event not well attended?” I thought back to when we went to the tourney, many fae flooded the walkway.
Sir Caelo nodded. “It is. Everyone invited to the Courting Festival is already at the Pit. Some common fae from Avaldenn, too. The prince was specific about how he wanted this timed.”
“Can you share more?”
He eyed me carefully. “Afraid not.”
If I didn’t trust Princess Saga, I wouldn’t have taken another step. But I did trust her.
And despite all of Roar’s stories against Prince Vale, I trusted him, too. The memory of his hand on my leg as he pulled out pieces of glass with care and precision pressed on me. How he’d delivered the balm to me and how he had not turned me in after I’d ended up in his rooms.
And Roar is clearly not the most trustworthy. He dosed me with potion without my knowing. And now he’s left . . . Perhaps I’ve had everything all wrong.
That idea terrified me, but I’d had many hours to consider such a thing. Roar had left. We’d had a deal, and he’d broken it and put me at risk. Whereas I’d believed us equals before, thought I trusted the warden with my life, now, I felt unsure about where we stood.
Sounds of a crowd met our ears. I looked about but found no structure large enough to contain the number of fae I’d seen at the ball, let alone them plus common fae from the city. “Where is—oh!”
Sir Caelo took a sharp turn on a snow berm lined path and the Pit came into view, silencing me. Hundreds of fae filled the gaping hole in the ground, all looking down into the center of the Pit.
Our escort marched up to the edge of the Pit, and from a few steps down, soldiers saluted him by pounding fists to their chests. He descended the steep wooden steps but did not salute back. Either Sir Caelo had not noticed them, or his rank made it inappropriate for him to salute back. Clemencia clasped my hand, and we trailed behind him, walking deeper into the inverted stadium.
Dirt covered the bottom of the Pit rather than snow like the outside, hinting that an invisible overhead shield protected the Pit. As I felt no wind, when before it had been whipping over the grounds, I was sure I was right.
No white bear prowled the center yet. Instead, jesters played at using magic. At the bottom, still high above the floor of the Pit and out of range of a white bear’s claws, sat the royal family, apart from the rest.
We headed straight for them. My stomach fluttered, and I watched the jesters to quell my nerves, until we reached the lowest level, and Sir Caelo stopped. “My lady Neve, Lady Clemencia, here you are.”
We took a few more steps and joined him to stop before the king, queen, the winter princes, Princess Saga and, of course, Prince Gervais. The royals sat in a partitioned area made clear by soldiers who surrounded them. From above, other fae could see the royals.
They’d see, too, that I joined them. Why? What were Saga and Prince Vale thinking?
“Thank you, Sir Caelo.”
He bowed and waited for us to enter the box. I did and came face-to-face with King Magnus.
Between the king and his queen perched Prince Gervais in a position of honor. Hiding my revulsion at both the fae king and the vampire, I smiled and curtsied. “My king. My queen. Prince Laurent.”
“You’re looking well, Lady Neve.” King Magnus eyed me. “So pleased that you could join us at the invitation of my son, though I do wonder at the late arrival.” His eyebrows rose, plastering a judgmental expression on his face.
“Apologies,” I said. “I could not find my cloak.”
The king didn’t look convinced, but it didn’t matter because at that moment Prince Vale stood and came over to me. He inclined his head, and I curtsied again. All the while, the vampire studied me, silent as the grave and deadly as a snake in the grass.
“My lady.” The Warrior Bear took my hand. “I have saved you a seat next to me. Your lady may take up a place with Saga’s lady-in-waiting.” He gestured behind the first row where the royals sat in cushioned wood chairs, luxurious only when compared to the bench seating the other fae used.
“Thank you,” I replied as confidently as I could. Showing fear in front of the king or the vampire was suicidal.
Prince Vale led me to the end of his family’s line and placed me between him and Saga. I caught the princess’s eye, and she winked.
Once I settled in, a bell tolled outside. At that note, the king stood and snapped his fingers.
The jesters reacted, rushing into the bowels of the Pit where we could not see them. I imagined the rooms to be dark and dank subterranean areas, behind a metal gate for protection, waiting for the white bear to be released from its cage, just like the rest of us. What terror they must feel.
Prince Vale leaned closer. He wore fighting leathers, and the scent wafted off him and mixed with a more seductive aroma of sandalwood. A chill dashed down my spine. I no longer felt immersed in what happened below.
“You look wonderful, Lady Neve,” he whispered.
