Page 87 of Fae Champion

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Um…”

I rose and faced her; we were the same height. “What is it?”

Her cheeks colored a pretty pink. “I know I wasn’t supposed to listen, but…”

I frowned. “But…?”

“But he’s right, you know,” she said in a whispered sprint, as if speed would keep anyone from overhearing us. “If you have a mate bond with the drake, the fewer fae who know, the safer you’ll both be.”

“I don’t even know what he’s talking about. Azariah, that is.”

Her brown eyes, rich like freshly churned dirt, were earnest. “If anyone would know, he would. And he’s never wrong, no matter what he tried to say before.”

“Okay, well, um, thanks?”

She smiled. “And don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. I’ll be rooting for you. Someone’s gotta win in this place…” She faded off, muttering, turning toward the other handful of fae who were waiting for her to lead Azariah off the field.

The very moment the healers had the unisus hovering between them, his mane and tail hanging off his body, his wings dragging limply, before they even walked him off the field the queen’s voice cut through the now fervent chatter of the spectators.

“Have you enjoyed all the surprises I arranged for you?”

Her subsequent laughter made my lip curl in distaste before I remembered to hide my reactions. Until I could figure out how to get out of here with my head still attached to my body, I had to play her game, at least to some extent.

No matter what I’d told Rush before, I had toescape. To remain would secure my death, one way or another.

When her audience didn’t react as she wanted, she pressed, “Have you enjoyed my surprises?”

Tinged with their evident nervousness, the crowd broke out into applause that was too loud, too insistent.

But some of the tension in her shoulders eased, though my father’s behind her were hiked up so far they’d soon touch his ears.

“I’m sure you’ll all be relieved to know our dear announcer Azariah will recover fully,” she said—almost fucking chipper—“though he won’t be needed for the Nuptialis Probatio as that stage of the trials is more … personal. However, we’ll keep you all informed as our contestants advance.

“Unexpectedly, the Gladius Probatio has given us … two winners. The Drake Rush Vega will enter the Nuptialis Probatio to begin selecting the female who will eventually become his wife and crown princess, and the viscountess … Elowyn”—she paused to pucker her lips as if my name were sour—“will enter the pool of female competitors, to be chosen”—she tilted her head meaningfully, setting the rubies dangling from her crown to swaying—“or passed over.”

I risked a glance at Rush, whose nostrils had flared and jaw tightened. What, had he actually expected Her Mighty Bitchiness to be fair all of a sudden?

“But I’m getting ahead of myself,” the queen continued on a trill of grating laughter. “The Nuptialis Probatio is three days away. Now, it’s time to celebrateour winner. Oh, our winners.” She laughed again, as if she’d been so silly as to make that blunder.

“As you know, I aim to please my subjects, and I’ve delivered a spectacle like no other for this opening stage of our Fae Heir Trials. The grand finale of the Gladius Probatio will be the most impressive performance yet. So please—how is it that Azariah says it?—give it up for our dancers and musicians!”

This time, the crowd didn’t wait for her to instruct them to applaud. They clapped as if she’d told them every one of their essences were guaranteed safe passage to the Etherlands. On and on it went, until the orchestra struck with a strong bass beat and a fast tempo of strings layered over it. The dancers slid into their moves as if their bodies had been designed to complement this exact musical piece.

Once more brushing fluffy flakes from my face and shoulders, I began walking, intending to sneak off the field before the queen could order me to remain.

Rush immediately prowled after me.

And behind him, the five guards who were there to protect me—just not when it mattered most—scurried after us.

With these sorts of defenders, I was far better off alone.

25.A KNIGHT, NOT A PAWN

Rush gave up on trying to speak with me halfway to my chambers, which now felt as dangerous as the rest of the palace grounds. Wherever I was, so long as the queen knew my location, I’d never be safe.

I couldn’t decide if Rush finally quieted thanks to my persistent silence, or because he didn’t want the king’s five guards to witness me shunning him. Either way, it didn’t much matter.

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