Page 20 of Starside

I look up to see Cadoc wink at me before he strides down the corridor.

Killing might not be allowed, but there are other ways to hurt a person. I’ll be sleeping with furniture against the door of my room, if I sleep at all.

When I make it through the grand foyer, my lips part. The outside of this castle is pure fortress—three rings of thick stone walls, high enough to keep all the hungry subjects out.

But the inside is gilded to utter excess.

Silver, everywhere. The king’s collection isn’t hidden behind a vault, it’s proudly displayed, hung upon every wall.

There are monstrous silver wings that once might have belonged to a great beast. Silver feathers that look dipped in starlight. Enchanted chalices, sitting upon stands, next to ancient books with blank pages.

I look around in awe and horror, at all the king has kept for himself, until I reach the base of a grand double staircase.

The Watchman is standing on the bottom step, hawk nowhere to be seen. “Pair up,” he orders. “Find a room and make yourselves presentable for dinner.”

Then he strides away, likely to go give the king a full report on everything that’s happened.

Kira grabs my arm. “Come on,” she says, wincing, like her head still hurts. “Let’s get a good room.”

I don’t think there is a bad room in this castle, but I follow her lead up the stairs, marveling at each step. These are nothing like the ones leading up to the ruins. Every stair is whole, and made of thick marble that’s shined so perfectly, I can almost see my reflection in them. At the top, we turn left, taking the opposite hallway as Cadoc and his group.

“He isn’t so intimidating without his militia,” Kira says. His personal guards were turned away at the castle’s entrance. “Or his fancy gold sword.”

I grunt in agreement, but I don’t take my eyes off him until he turns the corner.

The Culling has begun. Everyone will be looking for a way to rise above the others. Treachery will be celebrated. Plans will be forming.

Kira makes a choking sound. I whirl toward her, hand going for a sword that isn’t there—

Only to find her standing in awe in front of an opened door. She isn’t even being dramatic, I decide, when I slowly step next to her.

And nearly fall to my knees.

A bed. A real mattress, with thick blankets and pillows on top. Luxuries that would be ridiculous in Nightfell.

A rush of guilt poisons my excitement. Stellan might not have given me a true bed, or pillows, but he gave me a home when mine burned to the ground. He gave me everything when it would have been so much easier to just let me curl up and die.

Look where that got him.

Kira kicks off her muddy boots and hurries in. “There’s a private tub!” she yells. “I’m using it.”

I hear a door slam and then the sound of water running just beyond it.

Steps echo. The hall fills with voices as the rest of the challengers find their rooms. I finally walk inside, shut the door, then slide all the way down it, not wanting to sully the bed with my dirty clothing. From the floor, I run my fingers down the pale lilac wallpaper made of—is that silk?

Shit. It is.

The wall is wearing the most luxurious fabric I’ve ever felt in my life. And the rest of the room is just as opulent. I look around, taking in the gold trim of the ceiling, the four-poster bed, the massive hearth, the thick, richly woven curtains, and door-sized silver frame, surrounding a simple painting of a knight.

What a waste of good metal.

I’m not in that broken and blood-soaked forest anymore. But my body doesn’t seem to know the difference between a castle and a battle. It isn’t fooled by this finery.

My heart is still racing, anticipating the next danger. My pulse beats against the stone wall. I breathe in slowly, the way my mother taught me a long time ago, whenever I would get so overwhelmed, the world seemed to narrow into a keyhole. Her warm hand steady against my back, she would count for me. Eight seconds to draw a breath. Eight seconds to hold. Eight seconds to breathe out.

Breathe … just … breathe.

I do, and eventually, my heartbeat slows. My mind settles. My eyes close, as I drift into a half-sleep, waiting for my turn to clean up.