Page 44 of Blooms of Darkness

“To your positions, please,” the king shouted, moving from the dais.

“You enjoyed yourself far too much, my dear,” the queen said behind her gloved hand.

My father winked at her, taking his place in front of his throne.

The eight contenders walked toward the center of the massive circular arena, where eight tables were lined in a long row, one for each contestant. Even from our vantage point, I couldn’t be certain what the first task would be.

As the king spoke again, Vivienne appeared at his side. She placed her hand gently upon his arm, nodding toward the crowd in a silent request. Her wiry hair lay tamer today than when I encountered her in the hallway at the opening ball.

Today, she wore robes of this century as well, and her eyes were sharper than they usually appeared.

Vivienne, unable to command her voice like the king, spoke as loudly as she could. My father directed the winds to carry her voice to the uppermost areas of the arena stands. “Strength of men are mighty and bold, but what's in is out and out is in, foronly one can sweep a fair maiden under her chin. Be bold you men of here and there, minds can trick, and flop, and flee, steady now for the kingdom’s heart takes more than one victory.”

Vivienne cackled as she raised her arms above her head, aiming them high into the sky. A wide grin blossomed across her face as she basked in the sunlight above. The only sound at the end of her rambling was the rustling of the wind.

My parents respected the Seer, and all of the people throughout Brookmere had learned to heed what Seers heard from the Fates. Right now, though? Right now, every gaze focused on Vivienne, unsettled. Everyone stared blankly, clearly unaware how to respond.

My father bowed his head to her, and then started clapping, the audience quickly followed suit. Vivienne returned the gesture and went back to my mother’s side, silent once more.

“Thank you, Vivienne, for those profound words,” the king said. “May nature guide you and bless these lands.”

Nervously, I balled my hands into fists, clenching my skirt. It was time.

“Dearest, you’ll announce ‘Begin’ when you’re ready,” he whispered to me.

Would I ever be ready?Never.

I refused to expose my insecurities here, though. I strode to the front of the thrones, staring down at the field. There was nothing to do but watch the trials unfold. Before I could second-guess myself, I inhaled sharply.

“Begin!”

A less-ornate, gold-trimmed chair sat adjacent to my father’s throne. My chair.

From it, I had a perfect view of the arena below. The contenders had a scroll before them, with instructions they were furiously reviewing. Although untimed, the last to finish would be declared the loser and be ejected from the trials.

All at once, ten dice appeared on each contender's table, along with five cards. Ian grasped the dice, giving them a quick roll immediately, all with a widening smile on his face. Hewouldbe smiling. He may have recognized the task before I had, but only moments sooner. How could I not recognize it when Ian spent our entire childhood constantly beating me at the game?

I turned to my father, eyes blazing. “You are having these men fight for my hand, to be my husband, and the King of Brookmere with a game I played as a child?”

Blinking slowly, I caught the disrespect flying from my tongue, seconds too late, especially in such a public place. Closing my lids momentarily, I tried to school my features, aware our world studied our every move.

The king reached for my hand, a performance for those whose eyes were still upon us. He kept his gaze straight ahead as he held my hand. His voice amplified once more, ringing through the arena.

“The first task is a game of Chance & Destiny.” He sat back, leaning toward me, still clasping my hand in his. “How many times did you play Chance & Destiny and not end up in tears?”

My mouth shut instantly. As a child, Ialwaysended up in tears after the game, easily frustrated with losing.

“How many times did you want to stop and never pick up those dice again?”

Too many to count.

“You see, Illiana, Chance & Destiny, is not just a children's game. It is a game of strategy, yes, but it reveals much more. It is the long game one must play in order to win. Someone who can win Chance & Destiny has the strength and fortitude to know when to take and when to give. For you cannot win without making sacrifices. Some work out, some don’t.” My father looked me in the eye, waiting patiently for my understanding.

“When they do not work out, how will the player react? When they are not beating the others, will they give up? Will they stay strong and try again? Our future King, your husband, cannot win without making sacrifices, regardless of where those sacrifices may lead. Hopefully, their choices will lead to the greater good. Ideally, the sacrifices and strategy will lead to the prosperity of our people. If not, they must continue to rise. So, while you may see this as petty and insignificant, please have faith in me that I have chosen tasks to find you a worthy husband and ruler of our lands.”

I slipped my hand from his and placed it on my lap, nestled amongst the soft velvet fabric of my dress. Shame washed over me as it had when I was a little girl. No one wished to be scolded by their parents, but even less when your parent was a king. A king who had the foresight you could only dream of most days, even when infuriating.

“Pay attention and see what the contenders reveal about themselves as they play,” he said with a knowing grin.

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