Page 23 of Reign of Betrayal

Kylo’s laugh is contagious, and soon I’m laughing with him.

“What is going on in here? This doesn’t look like training. If you’re laughing, you aren’t training hard enough.”

We turn to find James narrowing his eyes at us, though he has a hint of a smile on his lips. James is all about some serious training, but is surprisingly fun on occasion.

“We were just?—”

“Save it. The king wants you… Your Majesty.” James smirks, offering a mocking bow.

I leave the training room and head to the throne room, ever the dutiful soldier.

The throne roomfeels colder than usual. My father sits on the throne with Vanna beside him. They’re deep in conversation, which halts abruptly as I step inside. Their silence hangs heavy, as though I’ve intruded on something crucial.

“Father. Vanna,” I greet with a slight bow.

“Lukene, we need to discuss the contestants. We want this round to be successful,” my father says. “So, we…” He glances at Vanna. “We want you to oversee the contestants this time. Vanna will be occupied with other tasks.”

I nod my head, wondering what Vanna could possibly be doing. Nothing good, I’m sure.

Vanna’s eyes meet mine, almost as if she can read my thoughts. “And you cannot interfere. If they’re going to die, let them. They are disposable. However, you will train them. Prepare them for the trials. Help them with their magic. We need at least one survivor by the end. The curse is worsening—the groves and Necrums are spreading fast. We need someone soon.”

“So, I have total control this time? I can train them and handle them how I see fit?”

“Yes. Pair them up with someone that can train them, strengthen their abilities, and monitor them closely. The prisoner that escaped during the last trials is still missing. Do not disappoint me… again,” my father says.

It’s ironic that I’m blamed for the failure, considering I advised both him and Vanna on how to handle the contestants last time. They ignored my advice, and everyone died. Well, almost everyone—one escaped because they didn’t have a guard, as I had suggested.

I always knew they pulled prisoners from the Hollows, but I didn’t realize the prison held organized fights. It’s barbaric, but I can see the appeal. Apparently, Vanna knew. Once prisoners are sent to the Hollows, they’re no longer my concern. Not my problem.

“I understand… Your Majesty.” I bow and take my leave, not wanting to talk to them any longer. I don’t bother waiting to be dismissed—I never do anymore.

I walkacross the training room to where my guards and Kylo have gathered the prisoners—or contestants, as I should call them now.

“Today, I want to see what you guys can do. You all have skills with fighting—that is what landed you here. However, let’s see what else you can do—what sets you apart. I also want to see if you can access your magic. Break off into groups and grab a weapon you are familiar with.” My eyes glide over the contestants until I see her. She’s not even listening, murmuring to Elm and a female prisoner with bright golden eyes. That just won’t do. I begin to walk over to her, and her eyes snap to mine, and that blazing stare now settles on me. That’s it.

“Prisoner, are you paying attention to what I am saying?” I ask.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” she seethes through her teeth.

“Since you paid attention so closely, please tell me what you are going to be doing.”

She hesitates, her eyes portraying an internal battle before replying. “I’m going to show everyone I’m the best with a blade. It sets me apart from the rest.” A smile, dripping with malice and deceptive sweetness, stretches across her face. She is cocky and bold.

I scoff, taken aback by her boldness. I scrunch my brows together. “Is that so?” A challenge is stitched into my words. “Then by all means,” I extend my hand in the direction of the targets. “Please give us a demonstration of your handy blade skills.” I chuckle at the rose color caressing the tops of her cheeks.

We walk over to the table with many different daggers, blades, and swords. I pick up a throwing blade, extend it to her, but pull it back just before she grabs it, flashing a lopsided grin. “Do you plan to stab me with this blade, prisoner?” I ask, my tone playfully sinister.

“Not atthismoment, Prince.” She smiles widely and snatches the blade from me. Reckless, so reckless.

She strides to the line in front of the targets. As she readies the blade in her hand, she turns to look at me, the corners of her mouth curl up. The smile is vicious, anything but kind. Her lavender eyes never leave mine as she lets the blade fly, hitting the center of the target dead-on.

“Is that a good enough demonstration of myskills?” She does a mocking bow, “your… Highness,” she questions. Her tone is sarcastic with a mischievous glint in her eye. She turns to her prison friends, and Elm slightly shakes his head side to side, like he doesn’t approve of her actions.

I glance between her and the target, then shrug. “I’ve seen better, but that was okay, I guess… for a prisoner. Now, all of you, get in your groups.”

The truth is, I am impressed. She barely even looked at the target before deciding to look into my eyes, those lavender depths that just suck you in, trapping you in her gaze. Then she threw the blade, hitting the bullseye. I watch her rejoin the other prisoners, who grab blades and start throwing, never missing.

Kylo catches my eye, his brows furrowed, as I approach him.

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