I give him a look. “This is a little complaining?” He narrows his eyes at me, but I can see the amusement in them. “I’m sorry,” I sigh. “Continue with your story and your little bit of complaining.”
“As I was saying,” he continues with a huff, “Kitt and I made the palace a home. We made friends with the servants, raced through the halls, ditched balls to sneak into the cellar and get drunk so we could forget about everything and simply laugh until the sun came up. We’ve probably fought in nearly every room in the palace. Twice.”
He grits his teeth when I pack more salve onto the wound and shoots me an annoyed look before continuing. “We needed it though. The constant sparring or stupid pranks we’d pull on poor Gail and the rest of the unsuspecting servants. Because when we weren’t laughing and distracting ourselves, we were both training and studying. Though that looked very different for the both of us.”
He looks past me to the blue sky painted above, his gray eyes scanning the clouds as he says flatly, “I don’t remember my life before I became the future Enforcer. I don’t remember a day when all the tests and trials and training began. It feels as though it’s always been that way.” He lets out a humorless laugh, sighing as he says, “Fate is a funny, fickle thing, offering you no choice in how you live.”
I’ve stopped rubbing in the salve and am instead staring intently at him. “And your training? What was that like?”
He sighs a heavy sort of sigh, one that makes me wonder exactly what he’s endured in his short lifetime. “Kitt and I’s upbringing looked very different. Where the future king’s training consisted of tutoring and education on how to lead his kingdom one day, mine was more...hands-on. As the future Enforcer, I didn’t just strategize battles, I fought in them. I didn’t just learn the art of torture, I endured it.”
My hands hover above his chest. “You...endured it?”
He studies me for a moment, seeming to decide what he wants to say before settling with a simple, “Yes. Often.”
“Who,” I swallow, “who did that to you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he says with a slight smile, spitting my own words back at me from last night.
So I do the same to him. “If it doesn’t matter, then tell me.”
His smile widens. “Good to hear that you listen to me when I speak, Gray.”
“That wasn’t an answer,” I say softly.
He blows out a breath, his smile vanishing. “My...the king took it upon himself to train me regularly. I had other tutors and generals of course, but when I wasn’t with them, I was with my father. Let’s just say that his methods were...severe.”
I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to know what it was that the king did to his son, what horrors he put him through. It makes me sick. And yet, I shouldn’t be surprised. He killed my father after all, and it’s my hatred for the king that has me needing to know what other twisted crimes he’s committed. So, I slowly ask, “What did he do?”
He’s quiet for a long moment. “Gray, I don’t think—”
“Please,” I cut in quietly. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I’m asking you to if you are willing.”
There is something about the quietness of the forest, the cover of the trees, that makes you feel safe enough to spill secrets. Something about knowing you might not see tomorrow that has you doing things you’ll only regret if you survive. The Trials aren’t meant to build trust, and yet, here we are, divulging the deepest parts of ourselves to one another. Offering our opponents ways to cut us deeper than any weapon ever could.
He meets my gaze then, holding it as he says, “I’ll spare you the details, but he showed me what it was to torture. What it was to be tortured. He taught me everything I know. Trained me both mentally and physically until he was satisfied with what he created.” He takes a breath. “Kitt’s relationship with our father is far different from mine. They spend time pouring over paperwork and bonding over their positions while Father instructs my brother on how to follow in his footsteps. And Kitt will do just that. He will do anything to make the king proud, and he always has. Me, on the other hand...” Kai laughs but it holds no humor. “I’m not the heir. I’m the expendable son. The future Enforcer that my father has molded and sent on missions for years.”
He sighs, almost smiling. “My brother and I have very different roles, very different relationships with our father. But because of it, Kitt will make a great king. And I will be his killer.”
I pause, watching him closely as he says those last few words.
And I will be his killer.
Nothing. No emotion, no expression crosses his face. I peer at him for a moment, wondering if perhaps the masks he has crafted for himself are a result of having to suppress his emotions from his own father. And perhaps that’s exactly what the king wanted, for his future Enforcer to be seemingly unfeeling.
“You asked me once if I wished it was me who would be king,” Kai says. “And I stand by what I said. I don’t want Kitt’s role in life because I refuse to give him mine. My brother is no killer, and it’s better me than him.”
I let his words sink in before clearing my throat to ask, “And these Trials that are different this year? Is this all just another mission for you to complete?”
“Not just complete. Win,” he says simply. “The Trials are just another way for me to prove myself to my people, prove myself valuable to the king.”
I watch him, wanting to know what he’s thinking. He’s never told me so much about his life, about what he went through as a child—what he still goes through today. He is the reason this year’s Purging Trials look so different, and the rest of us are simply pawns in a game that isn’t even meant for us.
I lather more salve onto his wound and wait until he finishes muttering about how he’s certain I’m plotting to kill him before asking the question that’s been nagging at me. “Your role in life as the future Enforcer. What do you think of it?”
“I think that it is my duty.”
I frown. “And I think that you have more thoughts on your own life than that. I’m asking you, Kai. Not the prince and not the future Enforcer. Just you.” I pause, and he studies me as I repeat, “What do you think of it? Your role? Your life?”
He’s quiet for a moment before the flicker of a smile crosses his face. “If I answer as Kai, will you quit with the goop?” He shoots a pointed look at the paste in my hand.
I crack a smile. “Yes, I’ll quit with the goop.”
His faint smile fades, leaving a set jaw in its place. “The truth then?”
“The truth always,” I breathe.
When he finally answers, his tone is dry. “I never wanted this. Never wanted to be what I am today. But monsters are made, not born. And I had no choice in the matter. I have no choice in the matter. But I won’t deny what I am, and I’ll do what I must for my kingdom. For my king.”