Page 133 of Of Bargains & Betrayal

“No, I couldn’t. And while we’re on that topic, I’ve decided I don’t want to see either of your two faces until after the Agōn Ferr.” Her voice, usually fully colored with any emotion, was unnervingly neutral. “Unless, of course, you’d like to both keep fucking with my head so badly, I make a fatal mistake in one of my trials. I mean, that would really be a problem solved for everyone, wouldn’t it? So, ultimately, it’s up to you. But seeing as my remaining sliver of autonomy will be utterly destroyed the moment I become your property—sorry, wife—I’d love it if you respected this one last wish.”

I had to make a concerted effort to keep my jaw from going slack.

This was an unfamiliar side of Enora, and I did not like it one bit. Not that my friend of days long past would shy from confrontation. It just never came with such brutal calculation. She’d been factual and a touch sarcastic in her youth, but never so nasty. I could tell Maksym didn’t like it either, from the way his body formed a taut line beside me and how pronounced the veins were in his clenched fist.

“But your training is⁠—”

“Don’t worry about that.” She took another large gulp from her tankard of tea. “Gallan offered to step in until the events officially start, and I’ll keep studying with Eilir. I think that’ll be better for everyone involved.”

Maksym’s mouth clamped shut, and a muscle feathered in his jaw.

“Anything to add, mage?” the princess drawled.

I stiffened, and my attention snapped back to Enora.

Mage? Oh, Mina help me. Whatever had transpired over these last few days officially had irreparable written all over it, and I’d been the goddess-damned catalyst, all because I couldn’t keep my fucking cool in the archives.

“No,” I sighed, and Enora gave me a curt nod.

“Incredible. Don’t let me keep you from whatever important business I’m sure the both of you have that doesn’t involve being here. Gallan will step us both back when he’s feeling up to it.”

To my horror, Maksym turned and walked away from Enora without another word. If there was one thing my king never walked away from, it was a being with an attitude problem. He lived for doling out a vicious cutting down, for seeing someone set squarely back into the place they belonged.

But his avoidance of engaging with Enora only meant one thing:

We were all unfathomably fucked.

PART III

30

FINALLY, THE DAY OF RECKONING

ENORA

Despite odds that felt like they would rip me limb from limb at times, the first event of the Agon Ferr had at long last arrived. Maybe it would finally be what drew and quartered me instead.

Last night, an unfamiliar guard whisked me from the peace of my room to the barracks to be given a pep talk with the rest of the contestants, facilitated by none other than the king, whose face I had little interest in seeing. The last thing I needed was for the days of careful work I’d been doing with Gallan to unravel. Thankfully, I found a spot in the back of the hall, buffered by a crowd far taller than me, and there was enough dull rustling of clothing and bodies that Maksym’s voice was barely audible.

I was sure it was the usual: “You’ve been selected for a reason. What you face will not be like anything you’ve contended with before. Some of you may not make it out the same as you went in.”

Blah. Blah. Blah.

Not words that I or my confidence needed to hear, not after spending ten years hearing a thousand different variations of them before I was ripped away from my home.

When the speech ended, the contestants were instructed to head into the bunk rooms, where they would stay for the duration of the trial—not me, though. Gallan was weaving through the crowd before Maksym had even finished issuing his orders. Apparently, with my safety in mind, I would continue to stay in my quarters. As if segregation would do anything to stem the distaste most other contestants held for me.

I’d grown a definite soft spot for Gallan, though, so I didn’t fight him. He was just following orders he had no say in.

With the effort he poured into training with me over the last week, on top of managing his other duties, I’d give him a pass. He didn’t treat me like I was a princess, or like I was fragile, or lesser than. No, he held me to terrifyingly high expectations and made me prove I would meet them blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back.

Between that and Eilir’s lessons, my confidence was at an all-time high.

Not seeing Maksym or Jasper probably had something to do with it too.

My head was clearer than it had been in weeks. Hell, maybe even months. That would all change as soon as the events ended; a new reality would wash it all away, of course. But I was basking in my newfound sense of grounding and clarity.

Despite the endless scathing looks and snide comments I got from the other Elixia members and some of the citizen contestants as I came and went from my training, I wasn’t bothered by it. They could hate me all they wanted. It was more of a burden on their conscience than it was on mine.