It surprised me that we were almost the same age. All that restless swagger made Kai seem older, especially since he was so confident as captain of his ship. Then again, Arcus was king and he wasn’t much older. His serious demeanor always made him seem more than a few years my senior.
“Indeed, but the most powerful among us have a duty to produce heirs, as you know. It is good to start young. You have seen how it is with me. I cannot have children and the succession is now uncertain.”
Kai paused for several moments. “I will give the matter serious consideration, Your Majesty.”
“Perhaps since your mother is no longer alive and your aunt has not found the right woman, I may be of assistance in finding you a bride.”
His eyes widened. I stifled a laugh at his expression, relieved the conversation had lightened.
“You’re most generous,” he muttered, downing his drink.
The plates were cleared and dessert was served, tiny iced cakes and tarts filled with sweet berries and cream. In what I deemed a transparent attempt to ward off any further talk of nuptials, Kai carried the conversation, steering it into neutral territory. I pasted on an interested expression and tuned everyone out, mentally reviewing my plans.
“You have much on your mind,” Prince Eiko said, leaning forward across the table and speaking in a low voice so as not to interrupt Kai’s conversation with the queen.
I hoped the worry hadn’t shown on my face.
He added, “You must be nervous about your trials.”
“Yes, a little,” I admitted, glad that I had a reasonable excuse for anxiety. “I’m sorry if I was inattentive.”
He waved away the apology. “It’s only natural. Anyone would be preoccupied on such a night. And it’s difficult not knowing what to expect, isn’t it?”
He glanced at the queen, who was still engaged in conversation with Kai, and leaned in further. “I can tell you a few things without breaking any oaths. If you like.”
“Please,” I said, wondering why he would want to help me. What did he have to gain?
He pressed his fingers together, reminding me a bit of Brother Thistle when he was about to give a lecture. “Each trial tests a different ability, so the first, second, and third trial are all quite different from each other. They’re meant to push you to your limits so that only the strongest of Firebloods will have a chance of passing. However, strength of the gift does not guarantee success. There are other factors that come to bear on your success or failure.”
“What kind of factors?” I asked.
“Some of them are physical, like endurance, agility, or skill. Some things are mental, such as adaptability and perseverance. Your will, your decisions, can play a large role in the trials.”
Suddenly, I noticed the table had fallen silent. I glanced up to see the queen watching Prince Eiko.
“You come very close to revealing too much, my dear,” she said in silken tones. “She will find out more tomorrow, and that is soon enough, I think.”
Prince Eiko sat back, looking chagrined. “Of course.”
“Best of luck tomorrow, Ruby,” Queen Nalani said as she rose to her feet. Prince Eiko, Kai, and I stood as well.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I replied with a curtsy, when a question occurred to me. “Your Majesty, when you were telling me your history, you never mentioned what happened to the Frostbloods living in Sudesia. Perhaps next time, you can tell me more.”
She smiled, but it was cold, as if it were ice and not fire that ran through her veins. “Why, child, I assumed you knew. When it was clear that my people in Tempesia were lost to me, I rounded up all the Frostbloods living in my kingdom. Some of them became indentured servants, like my loyal Renir.” She gestured to one of the footmen standing against the wall and I blinked hard. How had I missed that? His eyes were a pale grayish blue, subtle but definitely the mark of a Frostblood.
“And the ones who refused to go into service?” I asked curiously, forcing myself not to stare.
She captured my gaze, her irises as cold and opaque as prison walls.
“I ordered my Fireblood masters to execute them all.”
THIRTEEN
THAT NIGHT, I WAS PACING THE plush, richly patterned carpet in my room when a soft knock sounded at my door. I opened it to see Kai, still dressed, a cup in each hand. “May I come in?”
Conscious of the thin fabric of my nightgown, I crossed my arms over my chest and backed up. “I suppose.”
“Can’t sleep?” he asked, shutting the door with his foot.
I shrugged.
“Neither could I the night before my first trial.” He held out a cup. “To ease your nerves.”
“Is this tea or wine? I need to be sharp tomorrow.”
“Which means you need sleep. Just a few drops.”
I sighed and took the cup. He clinked his against mine. “To becoming a master.”
“Are we toasting you or me?”
He grinned. “Both.”
All was darkness outside the glow of my single candle. The emptiness pressed against us as if it wanted to swallow us whole. For all I knew, this night was my last, the last time I’d feel the comfort of a bed, the last time I’d dream my dreams and think about the person I cared for most in this world. I’d written a letter to Arcus after dinner, telling him things I’d never had the courage to say to his face. Hot tears had fallen, making a mess of the ink and sizzling tiny holes in the parchment. I hoped he’d forgive me. For that and for everything else.
I pushed the thoughts of Arcus away, at least as much as I could. He was never far from my mind.
“You’re confident I’ll pass, then?” I asked, my stomach knotting. I recognized the nerves—they were the same I’d felt every time I’d had to enter King Rasmus’s arena.
He gave me a reproving look. “I wouldn’t have wasted my time this week if I thought you couldn’t pass.”
Not as reassuring as I’d hoped, but maybe that was high praise from Kai. After all, he’d failed at least one of the tests.
“Did you pass the first trial?”
“Of course. I passed the first two trials, which is why I don’t have to retake them.” He took a drink and then stared at his cup, swirling it gently. I watched his dense lashes, several shades darker than his hair, cast shadows on his cheeks. He looked almost melancholy, which was so unusual for him that my heart squeezed a little.
I took another sip. “Do you ever consider how cruel the trials are? They’re risking the lives of anyone who isn’t strong enough. I see little difference between this and the Frost King’s arena.”
“The trials are a choice,” he said defensively. “No one is forced to take them. And there are ways out of the first trial for anyone who realizes they’re not strong enough to finish.” He snapped his mouth closed, as if realizing he’d said too much. “However, if you leave, you forfeit, and you’ll never be allowed to take them again.”
“Unless I bargain with the queen like you did. Oh, wait, you’re the exception to all rules.” I forced a smile.
“Indeed.” He lifted his goblet to me in acknowledgment, his lips curving, then drained it and set the goblet down. “Well, I suppose I should let you get some sleep. I don’t want to be the reason you’re fatigued on the most important day of your life.”
“Before you go, I have a favor to ask.” I went to my dressing table and picked up the rolled-up parchment. “If I don’t make it out of my trial, I’d like you to make sure this gets back to Tempesia.”
Kai frowned at the scroll. “To whom?”
“Arcus,” I said simply.
He frowned and didn’t move to take the letter.
“Just get it to him.” I pressed it into his hand. “It’s a last request. You do honor last requests here, don’t you?”
“We try.”
“Thank you.” I paused. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t read it.”
He looked offended. “I wouldn’t do that.”
I nodded, feeling a little awkward, though I didn’t know why. We stood in silence for a few moments more.
“You will pass tomorrow,” he said, his eyes bright with warmth. “Just stay calm. Remember your training.”
I tipped my cup, drank in a series of gulps, and offered it, empty, to Kai. “Thanks for the drink.” Craving oblivion, I turned and crawled into bed to settle under the covers.
“Sleep well, little bird,” he said, shutting the door with a quiet click.