All it takes is one seed of doubt, one grain of uncertainty to fester and grow.
And I just planted it.
I give him a reassuring smile as though I’m not lying through my teeth.
Trust me.
“Maybe,” he says, studying me. I fight the urge to try and convince him further, careful not to sound desperate or draw suspicion. “I’ll think on your offer.”
“Kitt.”
The hair on the back of my neck stands up at the sound of that voice. That cold, calloused voice. I slowly turn on my heel to see the king at the end of the hallway, making his way to us. I give him the smallest curtsy, biting my tongue as I offer a small smile.
“Kitt, I need you in the study to finish our discussion with the advisers.” His eyes sweep over me, finally deeming me worthy to look at. They are the same bright green as Kitt’s, and yet, they couldn’t be more different, more...cold. I nearly shiver, reminded of why I could barely meet his son’s eyes. The king’s gaze flicks back up to Kitt before saying, “Now.”
Though he doesn’t sound too thrilled, Kitt replies with a curt, “Of course, Father.” He steps beside the king, ready to walk with him back to the study.
“Go ahead, Son. I’ll meet you there.” His stern voice leaves no room for argument, and Kitt nods slowly in response before throwing me a small smile and turning on his heel.
I can barely stand to look at him, but I force my eyes to meet those of my father’s murderer. He’s looking at me like I’m the scum he scraped from the bottom of his shiny shoes. I can’t stand it, but I force myself to be still rather than squirm under his scrutiny. So I offer him a bright smile all while wondering if it looks like I’m baring my teeth. “Your Majesty.” I say in farewell before moving to go around him, to escape this man and my raging, revengeful thoughts.
His shoes click against the stone floor as he steps in front of my path.
I halt, looking up at his large frame. He’s in great health for his age, making it easy to see where his sons get their strong build and handsome features from. The similarities between Kitt and his father are astounding, but it’s the king’s Brawny ability I’m focused on, reminding me of the fact that he could snap my neck with ease.
“Miss Gray, good to see you made it out of the first Trial mostly unscathed.” He doesn’t sound happy about my well-being in the slightest. “Well, thanks to my son, that is.”
I can only imagine the king’s reaction upon seeing the footage of Kai with me in the Trial. I know he hated it. Hated that his son helped me—a no one, a Mundane, a Slummer.
An Ordinary.
“Yes, I am grateful I had Kai as my partner,” I say coolly, unsure of where this conversation is heading.
“Hmm.” The king looks down at me, eyes narrowing.
Before he can say anything else, I add, “And I am very much looking forward to the next Trial. And the one after that.”
Lies.
I just wanted to see the look on his face when I sounded so confident about surviving that long. I follow up my statement with a fake smile, ready to leave him and this conversation behind when he says, “Let me be frank, Paedyn. You are not winning this.”
I stiffen. “I’m sorry?”
“I know that is what you want. To win the Purging Trials and have a better life for you and your seamstress friend.” He laughs, bitter and biting. “That reminds me. I should congratulate you for the little stunt you pulled with your dress at the ball. You certainly got what you wanted. Reminding the people of their Silver Savior.”
I look away, unable to stare at him any longer as he continues with a wave of his hand. “Tell me, have you seen the polls?”
I had. A day after the showing of the first Trial, the contestants scores and votes from the people were combined and tallied up. The rankings of the remaining seven opponents were everywhere, displayed on banners and fliers throughout the city. Kai was at the top, followed by Ace with Andy close behind in third. That left Blair and I tied for fourth with Braxton and Jax tied in last.
It seems that the kingdom of Ilya doesn’t quite know what to do with me. Those from the slums are likely voting for their Silver Savior, while those outside of it are likely rooting against me, hoping to watch the Slummer die an entertaining death. And if I’m receiving any votes from those outsides of the slums it’s no doubt because they find me amusing.
“Yes. I have seen the polls,” I say through my teeth.
“Good. I doubt your ranking will get any higher, so what I’m most concerned about is your involvement with my sons. They don’t need you dragging them down, or worse, influencing them.” I stare at the king’s chest, watching as he fixes the cuffs of his jacket. “I doubt I need to remind you of your place, so stay out of their way and we won’t have any problems. Understood?”
The dagger tucked into my boot has never tempted me more, tormenting me with the thought of shoving its blade through his chest like he did to my father. But he didn’t just kill my only parent that day, he killed a piece of me in the process.
And I have never hated someone so wholeheartedly because of it.
My fists are clenched tightly at my sides, fingernails biting into my palms. But I school my face into a submissive, sweet expression when I say, “Understood, Your Majesty.”
If I didn’t want to win before, I certainly do now.
“Good,” he says curtly. “Then we should thank the Plague that you are alive and well, isn’t that right?”
There is a certain challenge ringing in his tone, flashing in his eyes. I mirror his smile, even as I swallow my pride.
I’ve never said the filthy phrase, and I swore I never would. And yet, here I am, opening my mouth to let the words fall out as though they aren’t foreign on my tongue. As though they aren’t leaving a foul taste in my mouth.
“Yes, thank the Plague indeed.”
“Hold still or I’m going to poke your eye out.”
I grumble while Ellie only grins. She’s still swiping a wand across my lashes despite coming dangerously close to accidentally blinding me on several occasions. She likes to blame it on my squirming, and I like to blame it on her unsteady hands.
“Alright, time to suck it in!” Adena is bubbling over with excitement behind me, her hands gripping the laces of my dress. She allows me one final breath before pulling the ties tight, squeezing the air out of my squished ribcage. She works the laces, slowly pulling the bodice tighter to cinch the open back together.
Gripping the chair in front of me, I gasp, “One more pull, A, and I think a rib will puncture my lung.”
I doubt Adena can even hear me over her squeals of delight. “Pae, it’s perfect! You know, I was a bit worried about the hem but look at it! It falls just right and, oh, the cut is incredible...” She pauses, huffing out a sigh. “Ugh, forget it. Just look at you!”