Page 72 of A Fate so Wicked

“That’s epic! What I would’ve done to see that. About time someone stood up to?—”

The court erupted into cheers as King Harkin and Prince Bowen entered the coliseum, putting an end to our conversation.

“I expect you to finish telling me all the details when this is over.” Breana turned her attention to the king. “Or I’ll stab you in the leg.” She winked.

I took a shaky breath, gripping the edge of the coarse table to still my hands. A million scenarios played in my head—most of which were about how I could get out of this alive. I didn’t like my odds and how I was already gambling with my life. How many chances was Lady Luck willing to dish out?

King Harkin entered the arena, swathed in his rich silk robe and a jeweled crown on top of his head. The court fell silent; light giggles lingering in the air as Bowen winked and blew kisses to the nymphs in attendance.

I grimaced.

Sure, he was conventionally attractive with his wispy, blond hair and square jawline, but there was something beneath those brown eyes that was rotten. Wicked. Not to mention their blatant display of status made me sick.

“Welcome, fae, to the third trial.” King Harkin puffed his chest out as he spoke. “Today we will test our human’s judgment and put their attention to detail to the test. This is the most anticipated and my personal favorite trial thus far, as I contributed my alchemy expertise to ensure very interesting results.”

He and Prince Bowen chuckled, although I wasn’t sure what was funny, and I ran my hands down the side of my pants, drawing a sharp breath through my nose.

Why did Talon always have to be right?

“One of the three chalices before you are poisoned. Drink the correct one, and you may live. Drink the wrong one, and you must find the antidote before time runs out. Choose not to drink and seal the fate of another. Those of you who survive will be invited to dinner with the prince and me to celebrate your victories. Whoever discovers the antidote will be invited to attend our spring ball.”

The court broke out in a whisper—visibly against the king’s statement. But he waved off their remarks, his decision already made. “Altruism is a virtue most don’t possess. It’s a potentially lethal risk for those who might not be deserving of such sacrifice. May your ego not cloud your judgment. You have thirty minutes.” With a snap of his fingers, he and the fae court disappeared, leaving us to fend for ourselves in the cold, bleak arena.

No one moved as the timer began ticking down, a menacing reminder that our lives hung in its balance.

Don’t show any uncertainty.

I noted everyone’s tells to distract myself. How Calandra coiled a strand of her brown hair around her finger. The way Breana’s leg bounced underneath her. Kelvin’s deep furrow between his brows, and the relentless glare Aeron kept on me—his head cocked as he assessed my every movement.

“How should we do this? Should we all drink at once? Take turns?” my voice echoed off the walls, and everyone turned to me at once. Just as the vultures had at the riverbank when Lilian was discovered. I regretted saying anything immediately.

“Why?” Aeron asked. “So you can pretend to drink and calculate your next move? Buy yourself extra time to plot the different ways you could stab someone in the back?”

“Get over yourself. Just because you’re a scheming rat doesn’t mean everyone else is, too.”

Aeron snarled, preparing to respond when Kelvin spoke up first. “Why don’t we go by age order? Youngest to oldest?”

Breana and I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that works for me.”

“Same here,” Calandra agreed.

“You fools are actually going to drink whatever’s in these cups?” Aeron gawked at us as if we were out of our minds as he circled his table, resting his hip against the edge. “Seems it’s a better bet to chance someone dying. After all, it’ll come down to only one of us in the end. Why delay the inevitable?”

“And who’s to say we all won’t die if we all don’t drink?” Kelvin challenged. “The king didn’t specify a death-to-drink ratio. For all we know, if we don’t comply, we’re dead. I don’t know about you, but I haven’t gotten this far only to die now.”

Aeron shrugged. “That seems doubtful. Who would they have to parade around in these little trials of theirs if we all died? There wouldn’t be any entertainment in that. My original comment stands.”

“A coward’s stance. We wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” I spat. “I, for one, don’t want any blood on my hands.”

He laughed. “You already do, sweetheart.” Aeron blew me a kiss.

I recoiled, shifting my weight between my feet before reminding myself not to show the reluctance I felt. “Tell me, how’s that leg feeling?” I asked.

Aeron lunged for me, but Kelvin interjected. “Enough! The timer is not going to wait for us to decide. If you don’t want to take part, you’re within your rights.” Aeron sat on the table, and the chalices clinked together. “I’m twenty. Calandra, how old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

Kelvin pointed to Breana next. “And you?”

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