Page 32 of Glow of the Everflame

“No, thank the gods. If more than one House raises a Challenge, the Regent selects the strongest Challenger to fight. If you win, then you can be coronated.”

I shrugged. “That’s not so bad. Father trained us well. I can take ononeDescended.”

Teller gave me a grave look. “It’s a battle of magic only, D. No weapons allowed.”

My stomach dropped. “Is there any possibility no one Challenges me?”

Lily jumped in. “Oh, yes! Especially if they believe you’re a Corbois. The other Houses won’t want to risk making an enemy of us.”

This proposition with Remis and Luther might be worth considering after all.

I frowned and rubbed my temples. The effort of thinking amid thevoice’s endless drone—Fight. Fight. Fight.—had given birth to a brain-splitting headache.

“Diem,” Teller said slowly. “When are you going to tell everyone back at home?”

I ignored his question. “One of the cousins mentioned an Ascension Ball—do you know anything about that?”

“A ball?” Lily squealed.

Teller smiled at her happy outburst, the affection in his eyes reminding me so much of the way Henri sometimes looked at me. A knot tightened in my gut.

“It’s your presentation to the court,” he explained. “It’s the official beginning of the Period of Challenging.”

“Is there some kind of test at this ball, too?”

“The books didn’t mention one.” We both glanced at Lily, who offered a shrug in return.

A new voice, low and booming, reverberated through the cavernous chamber.

“Have you not realized that everything you do between now and the Coronation is a test?”

Teller froze.

Lily gasped.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes.

He spoke again. “The next time you organize a secret meeting in the dungeon, little sister, try to remember to close the door behind you.”

Lily chewed on her lip and gazed at the floor. Teller started to comfort her, then glanced nervously toward the stairs and pulled back.

“Go away, Luther,” I grumbled.

“Your Majesty,” he said coolly. “There are many people looking for you. What a blessing none of them thought to search this far downstairs.”

His patronizing tone was like waving a torch near a barrel of kerosene. Thevoicewas no longer chanting—it wasscreaming.

In the distance, I sensed Sorae pacing her perch and screeching wildly.

“Calm down,” I mouthed, telling myself I was talking to the gryvern and not my own spiraling temper. “I’m fine. There’s no danger.”

Fight.

Thevoice, apparently, felt otherwise.

“What do you want?” I snapped at Luther.

“I believe you and I have some matters to discuss.”

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