Page 46 of Blooms of Darkness

“It is happening again?” the king asked a little too loudly.

Though my gaze remained on the field, I desperately tried to eavesdrop on what had caused my father obvious fear. The second either of the two men knew I attempted to listen in on them, the conversation would cease.

“Yes, my King,” Andras said quietly. “The village of Demarva has been overrun again. We must send more troops now in order to quell the unrest.”

Normally, I never heard these kinds of conversations. My father and his advisers were so careful when they spoke of the darkness, ensuring I remained far enough away so I couldn’t overhear them. Whatever happened rattled the king to the point where he forgot I sat a few feet away. I had to take advantage of the opportunity when it presented itself.

“More troops at this rate could leave us vulnerable to?—”

I leaned sideways, as their voices lowered to an almost undetectable volume.

My father rotated to look at me, so I quickly scanned the stands, giving the onlookers a loving smile and waved at a few, only to prove my thoughts preoccupied. They didn’t start speaking again and I continued my crowd gazing.

Wait. What?

As my eyes passed over the men and women on the east side of the arena, I paused, narrowing them. A Fae, largely resembling Storm, sat in the front row of the stands. His gaze stood fixed on the contenders in the arena below. Apparently, Storm and Kade appeared as inseparable as me and Ian.

“No more than twenty, my King,” Andras muttered.

Straining, I shifted toward them, stretching, trying to be inconspicuous with my eavesdropping. Suddenly, a howl of pain startled me, echoing from the field.

I fell off my chair, sideways.

“Lana!” my father called.

But my head jerked toward the arena, where the scream had sounded, as I quickly picked myself up and sat back on my chair. “No,” I whispered, dread clawing through my body while trying to discern what had occurred below us.

Then, another scream sounded from the crowd, followed by shouts of fear.

Our entire pavilion’s undivided attention had shifted to the arena.

Chapter 14

All discussions of troops and unrest paused as the king and Andras witnessed the commotion in the arena.

Lord Levi Thatcher lay on the ground, foam bubbling from the corner of his lips as his body convulsed on the ground. The veins in his face turned red as he gasped, desperate for air.

Lord Thatcher hailed from one of the stronger magical lines in Brookmere. I wondered how long it would take for his powerful magic to heal him. Would he be able to finish in time? Elisabeth should be nearby if he couldn't heal himself. I didn’t care too much if he didn’t finish the first trial. He had been uptight, slimy, and I could still feel his overly wet lips upon my hand before our dance.

But his actions didnotwarrant my wanting him poisoned. Or worse, dead.

The other contenders hesitated, frozen in place until the crowd's fright quieted. Though Lord Thatcher hadn’t recovered, the others seemed to understand the contest continued despite the downed man.

Ian had pushed two of the four chalices to the side, removing them as options. Kade had done the same, catching up quicklyto surpass some of the others who had edged him out in the strategy game.

Frederich’s gaze darted toward Ian’s table, then Kade’s, as if he were trying to decipher what moves they were making. Almost too quickly, he appeared triumphant and made his final decision, tipping the chalice back, consuming the liquid in one gulp.

A few droplets caught on his massive mustache, which he wiped away with the back of his hand, as if he sat in a tavern instead of competing to be King. Victory was his for this round, and as he stood before the wooden door, it swung open for him.

Ian and Kade made their final decisions within breaths of each other and locked eyes as they, too, drank their chosen liquids. Both of their doors opened simultaneously.

Edmund fell to the ground, but not paralyzed like Lord Thatcher. Instead, he scratched his body as though bugs crawled atop his skin. I shivered, watching him flip over, rubbing his back along the grass.

Elisabeth finally darted onto the field, hovering over Lord Thatcher.

Ryland passed through his door, and Hale followed.

Andras resumed his conversation with my father. “What are your orders, my King?”

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