Page 44 of Once the Skies Fade

When I glanced back at him, he hissed through his sneer, “I don’t know what game you’re playing at?—”

I blinked in confusion and pulled my lips lower. “This is the tournament for the queen’s hand, is it not? Would be so embarrassing if I showed up to the wrong games.”

He scoffed. “That tongue of yours will get you in trouble.” Before I could offer another witty retort, he pivoted on his heel and darted off after the others.

Chapter 22

Matthias

General Isa led us into a smaller, windowless chamber on the other side of the castle’s foyer, lit only by a handful of oil lamps on the walls and one on a desk at the far end. The general stood behind the desk, her hands resting on the back of a massive armchair as she watched us all file in. Once I clicked the door shut behind me, she cleared her throat.

“While the games have not officially begun, you might consider this your first trial. A pre-trial, perhaps, for all must complete today’s task in order to compete. Those who cannot—for whatever reason—will be escorted promptly off the premises by one of the royal guards, and taken back to their homes. Yes, the guard will accompany you the entire way. This is to ensure not only your safety, but also the sanctity of what you have witnessed here thus far. It is imperative that this entire process remain confidential. You will not speak of it with others, not even once the tournament concludes.”

From my position at the back by the door, I studied my competition, watching to see how each reacted to the general’s rules. Seb, Korben, Oryn, and most of the Arenysen males stood confidently, seemingly unperturbed, while Beck, Rhett, and Graham seemed agitated. I expected as much from Beck,who seemed intent on snapping off some of his fingers with how hard he was wringing them. Rhett, despite his cocky demeanor in the other room, now danced on his feet as though he were standing on hot coals and might bolt at any moment. Unlike them, though, Graham didn’t seem nervous so much as antsy to get moving, his heel tapping rapidly against the floor while his fingers drummed against his arms crossed tightly in front of him.

Stepping to the side of the chair, Isa studied each of us in turn as she continued to explain.

“These are volatile times, as you know, so per the direction of the Assembly—and with the approval of Her Majesty—each competitor must swear a blood oath.” At this a couple of the Arenysens looked nervously at each other, but it was Korben who stepped forward and lifted his chin, a silent request to speak.

Isa gestured for him to proceed.

“Are we expected to basically confess our marriage vows preemptively then? And is this a lifelong oath or?—”

I rolled my eyes. No doubt the general was planning to answer these questions regardless. The corner of the general’s eye twitched, yet her response came out gracious as ever.

“I understand any qualms and concerns you might have, but no, these are not the standard marriage vows, nor do we possess the power to force you to keep this oath for your entire life. In order to compete, you must pledge fealty to the queen and promise to serve all of Arenysen beside her should you be crowned the champion of this tournament. For those who survive but do not win, this oath will be deemed void at that time. You are, of course, expected to honor and respect the outcome of these games.”

“Did you saysurvive?” Beck asked, his voice cracking.

Isa nodded solemnly. “Indeed, I did. These are not the games of old with menial tasks and superficial contests. You will be tested, challenged, pushed to your limits, and yes, some of you may lose more than just your pride.”

Well, that answers Lieke’s question about danger.

“Why wasn’t the danger noted in the invitation?” Korben asked.

“Did you truly think we would choose our next king based on how well he could prance around in a suit of armor?” She paused to glance around the room. “Should any of you not be willing to risk your life for this kingdom and its throne, now is your time to bow out.”

No one moved, though a handful of the males shifted their weight nervously.

“What is to hold us to this vow? Some sort of magic?” Seb asked as he stretched his neck out to peer around Korben’s bulky frame.

Isa chuckled softly and shook her head. “No. No magic or anything like that. Simply tradition, honor, and the consequence of death should you break it.”

“Oh,” someone muttered, though I couldn’t determine who.

Smiling kindly, she produced a small vial and held it up for all to see. “This oath is not one-sided though. A drop of the queen’s blood will be combined with a drop of yours to seal this oath for both parties. You vow to compete honorably and swear your unfailing loyalty to her, and she vows to accept you as a competitor and swear her own unfailing loyalty to the victor.”

“How does she do that when she’s not here? How do we know that’s her blood, and not a muskrat’s or something?” This time it was Oryn who asked, but most of the other males nodded along with his questions.

“You will simply have to go on faith and trust my word as General of the Arenysen army that she provided this blood forthis purpose and granted me the right to vow by proxy.” Isa’s expression had been almost sweet this entire time, but now it darkened in challenge. “If you cannot accept or believe this, you are free to leave. Now.”

With that final word she swept her arm out in the direction of the door.

Silence, tense and suffocating, filled the room, as we all waited to see who—if anyone—would accept this offer to leave. Beck fidgeted in place, looking at the exit and then back to Isa. Everyone seemed to hold their breath until he moved.

But he didn’t leave.

He pushed past the other males, heading straight for the desk, where he stopped directly in front of the general.

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