Chapter 32

I stand in the frame of an archway in the bedchamber. On the brink.

The intangible thickness of the darkness shrouds the scenery. The night lights are on, unseen during the day, but strings of glowing golden lights wrap around boughs and branches. Standing light fixtures are situated along the border of the bridges.

My body felt numb before, after the...

But now I feel my nails piercing my skin. I ease my own grip on my arms.

I am a fool. Stupid. A caricature of the Valwa line.

My father warned me endlessly not to trust, to be vigilant, but like an idiot, I had my guard down. I kept underestimating the Herems, time and time again. And now I had to learn in the worst way imaginable not to repeat such a reckless mistake.

I can still hear that stomach-turning laughter, rebounding in my ears, my thoughts lost in a fog of fear. His gruesome touch... the consequence of my own stupidity. The shame is on him, but the fault is mine. Heart-rendered by an overwhelming sense of ignominy. I can barely make sense of it. It happened so fast, but the jarring sensations linger...unabatingly. I can feel it all, every inch of him, the dread gnawing my insides; my bones turning to water. Powerless. Then I knew what true terror was.

I know many kinds of pain. But the pain of powerlessness is one I cannot comprehend, rendered weak and helpless like a child. I have trained all my life to be equipped with the skills to protect myself, but when I needed to the most…

The unsteady tempo of my heart is sometimes too slow, sometimes too rapid. Unstable. Unable to pump placidly as if in fear, afraid that my breaths will once again be stolen in its beat.

A hand settles on my left shoulder—my senses razor sharp—my hand snaps to seize their wrist, spinning to face the intruder. With liquid ease, I spin them around, shoving them into the narrow panel between the two open archways. I jab my forearm against their throat to keep them pinned flat.

"Adalia!"

Lila's blanched face turns into a sickening colour, her eyes flickering wildly. Digging her fingernails into my skin, she tries to tear off my hand, but my hold renders her efforts futile. She gawks at me pleadingly, eyes exploded, her mouth agape, screaming silently.

"Adalia, I demand that you let my sister go!" Her voice shrill with panic. "Let go or I will have you locked deep in the forgotten caverns of the Citadel," Cassia threatens from my rear. Her volume spikes with her fury. "Now!"

I release her. Lila plunges to her knees, releasing a series of coughs, her palms pressed on the floor. I back away slowly. Cassia rushes past me to tend to her sister with a lavish gown still in her grasp. With her free hand, she places a quick hand on her sister's shoulder then tips her chin up to guide Lila's gaze.

"Adalia, what is wrong with you!" Opal shrieks. Her eyes are frantic with shock. "Are you demon-possessed? If my father hears of this, you will be thrown out of the Citadel, and this time. No beast or creature will spare you."

Wordlessly, I turn around to look at her. It's too dark, all I see is her outline. Too many shadows roam free, no light to restrain them. But I can tell there is something in her hands; it is round and it shimmers like glass...a crystal ball.

Promptly, the orb erupts with a golden glow. Its light bursts out of the glass-like confines, filling the bedchamber, illuminating everything with sunny light. Everything is as clear as day. She steps forward and the glowing orb floats out of her grasp, drifting up to nestle itself upon the centre of the ceiling. It shines nearly as bright as a full noontide sun. I look back at Opal; she is crowned in extravagance. Her gaze levels to loo back at me and her eyes swell beyond its sockets.

"Adalia...oh my."

Self-conscious, I cross my arms over my chest, muscles strained.

Opal cups a hand over her mouth.

Why is she looking at me like that!

It's like my shame is engraved on my face for all to witness.

I turn from her, watching Cassia help her sister stand. And they both stare at me with the same horrific look in their eyes that evicts any former feeling of loathing, shock, or even fear.

A composure-corroding look of pity.

I want to scream at them, scream for them to leave me. But I cannot even separate my lips. Something gripping my throat, words wilting in my mouth.

Cassia's eyes soften with maddening sympathy. "Adalia...did something happen to you?"

Mute, I look back at her, bewildered. Enough to inspire an elaboration.

She takes cautious steps towards me and gestures to her neck. "Your neck..."

My eyes widen. I swivel around, dashing to the vanity only to decelerate, unable to ignore the discomfort that aches between my legs. My hand finds my stomach, clutching as if to quell the upsurge of growing pain. Approaching, I slant forward to peer into the mirror, seeing the band of discoloured bruises on my neck that bellows pain, the edges shaded with darker splotches. His treason against me etched into my very flesh.

They are not too severe, but they are unmistakably prominent.

They look how they feel. Painful, but bearable.

I lift a reluctant hand to try to touch it, but my reflection winces in protest.

"Adalia," Cassia breathes. She struts towards me. She evades the cords and dumps the gown on the foot of the net bed before she approaches me. "Who attacked you?"

I straighten, looking away disinterestedly. I have no wish to retell the ordeal and as a result; be forced to relive it. My gaze on nothing. I can hear the other two scamper to their sister's side.

"Tell us so we can help you," Lila offers, her voice so gentle and small. I try to resist, but my eyes drag my gaze to her. Her hand on her own neck, fingers brushing against it soothingly.

I will not bear their pity.

I clear my throat; stubborn pain grates the back. "I handled it." My voice is hoarse and distorted. I don't even recognise it. I turn my back on all three of them.

"What was handled?" Opal asks exasperatedly. She shifts her weight to one side, arms folded.

"Do you not wish to see your assailant punished?" Cassia asks. "It's clear that one of the Herems did this, candidates to take the throne. And I know much about kingship, the traits a ruler should have. A woman-beater is not one of the qualities."

"I was not beaten," I mutter through clenched teeth. My pride is as bruised as my neck.

"A woman-strangler, then," she says quickly. "I will not tolerate this kind of behaviour. As the Reling, I have the authority to see whoever is responsible to be shackled as the fiend that they are."

"Adalia, place your ego aside for one moment," Lila says beseechingly. "You were attacked. This was an attempt on your life, and if you do not tell us who. I will inform the Regulus and he will have this monster punished."

I whirl around to face her, shaking my head with vigorous refute. "Please," I mutter, my cheeks tightening. It hurts to speak. "That will only make me appear weak. And I cannot have that so afford me my privacy."

All three of their eyes flood me with unease, inundating me in their pity.

I cannot tell if I want to gouge their eyes out or my own.

I rip my gaze away. "I will not give him the satisfaction to see me cower, and expose my weakness to everyone, how he devalued me. For it will only set a precedence to having others go after me in such a way. I am fine and the situation has been dealt with. Now please, leave me."

"Will...will you not attend the banquet?" Lila whispers.

A frown twists my face. I turn to them. A trinity of shared worry.

"What banquet?"

"To honour the Virdi Victor," Opal says awkwardly, pronouncing each syllable slowly. "We came here to help you prepare." Then she steers my gaze to the side, looking pointedly at the sparkling gown.

The last thing I need is to be amid a revelry to glorify that uncouth, deceiving runt. I usually have a reserve bank of energy for formalities such as this. But everything is depleted. I am depleted. I do not have the strength to go there, and act as if everything is well and...face him again.

I cannot.

"I am not privy to small talk, and I'm exhausted. I think I will retire early this day."

A moment of frigid silence ensues my words.

"Well," Cassia says thoughtfully. Her voice dents tension's wall. "If you change your mind, the gown will remain there. But I suggest that you do not do it for anyone else but yourself. We may get knocked down on the outside, but the key to living in victory is to learn how to get up on the inside. And I know you have the might to do just that."

She's wrong about me. They all are for placing their misguided beliefs in someone undeserving. No action of mine has proved otherwise. And I am sick of all their expectations. I am either seen as this benevolent, future High Queen. Or a weak, lone Hera. I cannot even muster the will to look at either of them. I feel as if I do, I will suffocate on a deluge of self-pitying sobs. Even though my eyes dry, no tears left to shed for my anguish.

"Question," Opal says. "Where were the guards when...your attack occurred?"

"Nowhere near me, apparently," I say dryly. My tenor deprived of any emotion.

Opal tries again. "That is impossible. Your annex is patrolled hourly, and even if. Where were your Avangard soldiers? Surely they would have heard your scream, if—" she cuts herself off.

Finally, she realises.

"Adalia, I—"

I force myself to look at them. "I will confess that I am a bit...shaken," I say unsteadily. I clench my jaw into stillness. Unable to rid myself of this long-lasting shock. "But I am not broken. I just need to rest is all. And Lila, please, forgive me for my...reaction."

She shakes her head, and I remorsefully lay my gaze at her feet.

"There is nothing to forgive. On the heels of such a trauma, it makes sense that you would react as such but. This cannot go unheeded, Adalia. Perhaps it's best if you had guards detailed to you for the remainder of your stay?"

My head shakes with a silent refusal. "Believe me, this will not happen again. I was taken off guard then. But now. Well… I am very much aware."

"Alright," Cassia says and loops her arm with Lila's. "We will not bother you further. I suppose we will see you tomorrow, then."

She nods a farewell and ushers her sister towards the entrance with Opal following. I stare after them as they make their way, but Cassia stops suddenly. She drops Lila's arm, standing at a dead halt before the entranceway.

"No, she doesn't want to see anyone. I suggest you take your leave and return to the throne room, to celebrate your fellow Herem," she says wryly and lifts a hand to block the anonymous visitor.

The tall figure shoulders past her and marches inside, then stops once he sees me. Vince stands on the opposite side, waiting for my word. I glance back at Cassia to nod my approval. Dubious, she throws an apprehensive look at Vince before she disappears into the archway, and her sisters follow suit.

"A thousand apologies for barging in," he fumbles. And starts to fiddle with his fingers like he's nervous. A peculiar sight. "I...needed to see you and make sure you were alright...safe."

Wordlessly, I abandon the vanity, making my way past the foot of the net bed. And I join him on the other side.

His eyes lock on my neck. "Adalia." He reaches for me impulsively and I flinch from him, shrinking cowardly as if he had meant to do me harm.

He takes back his hand, drawing it to his side.

"Why did you come, that time?" I ask harshly.

The veil of concern lifts from Vince's face to reveal his affronted expression at the accusation in my tone. "Pardon? You mean why did I come after Rimnick had raped you?"

The word is like a blade's tip that punctures my chest. Anxiety eclipsing my thoughts.

Grasping at my unravelling resolve. I feign equanimity. "No guards, neither Terra nor one of our own were near me. And yet you came?" Aggression bashes my tone. "What were you doing here?"

Vince frees a burst of hollow laughter, like he's the one in shock. "Unbelievable. You think I had a hand in your assault? That I would be a part of something so vile. If we were in Emikrol, Rimnick would have been castrated. Emikrollians are ruthless in nature but we are not without honour. I treasure honour above all else. And what he did was despicable."

I stalk towards him. "Answer the question," I demand. "I do not care for your sentiments."

A muscle in his jaw jumps.

" If it is honour you treasure, then give me your answer, Herem."

Vince's eyes snap to me. His eyes aflame with both incense and...hurt. "Has your memory been cut short? I told you prior to my departure that I would return to ensure your welfare. Not to mention I had something planned for you, the reason for my prolonged absence of late."

Bewilderment contorts my face, pulling at the skin. "Then why—"

"I was on my way to you to reveal to you why I have been absent." His eyes are bright like polished gems. "Next thing I saw was his half-naked form."

A flash of terror—despair pierces my insides—my heartstrings close to severing.

"After what you have just endured. I understand that it has made you paranoid and that you—"

"—do not trust anyone?" I finish with an echo.

"As you should not, Hera," he says with a raised voice, matching my yell. "No one here is your ally or your friend. And if you believed that, you are less than a fool."

Lashed by anger, my lips rot into a snarl. "A point that Dario made when he had me hanged. Believe me, I know my error and I will not repeat it with you, so you can cease your efforts in trying to befriend me."

His face breaks into a broad smile; flawless pearly whites exposed. But it holds no sincerity.

"Hera, I came here because believe it or not. I care for you!" He exclaims so fervidly like he spewed a curse. "I am not a fiend; I do not need to stab my opponents in the back to defeat them or exploit them when they are at their most vulnerable. I will not deceive you. My Regnum is a lineage of cut-throat, warmongering bastards. That blood flows through me. But none would stoop to Rimnick's treachery. And for you to think I would be a part of that is repulsive."

Guilt sinks its claws into me. But not deep enough to force a verbal retreat.

"The only side I am on is my own. Because make no mistake. We are fighting for one throne. There can only be one true victor and I intend that to be me," he says with raw honesty. "But I mean to win honourably, to fight honourably, and I do not need to sabotage my competition with acts of vicious savagery. He brought shame to his Regnum in an irreversible way, and he will pay."

He pauses in his zealous speech to inspect my throat. My gaze strays away, scorched by the sear of his scrutiny. I grip the collar of the robe, stretching the material over my chest to conceal the bruising.

"Just because we are pitted against each other, it does not mean we cannot remain civil. During challenges, we are competitors. But outside of them...we can be something else," he says softly, his tone tender. "I do not seek your trust; The Vasilias Imperii have made that an unattainable feat. We are opponents, but we do not have to be enemies."

Suspicion constricts my vision into slits. "So, your convenient timing, you tribute to your mysterious surprise? The reason why you have been absent of late?"

A far-off look enters his eyes. "You know this wasn't the 'thank you' I imagined."

"Ah," I chirp dryly. "What were you imagining? That I would swoon and fall at your feet? Is this another one of your fantasies?"

Vince draws out a long exhale. Frustration pinches the edges of his face. "I was not involved. Do not trust my word, but trust my reputation. You said it yourself, I, a friend of future kings. Do you honestly think I would smear my reputation with this disgusting misdeed? I would never do that." He glances at himself with a full-fledged smirk. "Besides, I don't have to stage an attack to win a girl's attention. Not when they already beg for my audience."

I remain cynical.

He ploughs a hand through his hair, causing dark ripples. "I have proof to absolve me of your baseless suspicions. I can show you what I was preparing, but I cannot do that until we make an appearance at Dario's banquet," he says with all the contentment he can assemble. "To avoid looking like bitter failures, and not to disrespect the Regulus in his own home. Duce Merian will have our heads if he feels we have offended him."

"You can go," I dismiss.

"Not without you," he snaps.

"No." I turn from him, pacing the length of the room, each motion growing more feverish. "I cannot."

"You must attend," he says firmly.

"I...cannot...not this day. Not now."

"You must," he says with the same measure of severity. "Rimnick's act was not just senseless brutality but a ploy to terrorise you. And undermine your standing among us. Because you are our equal just as much as any Herem."

My pacing persists, eluding his gaze.

"Do not succumb to your fear, do not let him win. He tried to degrade you, but he failed. And you will show him that you are stronger than him because you will walk into that banquet with your head held high. Untarnished by his attempt. He defiled you, but he did not destroy you."

I slow down, and soon I become still.

"What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us. Show him you are a force to be reckoned with because you are, Hera," he says, trying to capture my gaze. "Then after, you will give me a chance to absolve me from your suspicions. Allow me to prove to you that I am your opponent but not your enemy. Do not trust me, but you do not have to despise me either."

I rotate to look at the gown Cassia lent me. I can feel Vince's stare. His gaze haunting my periphery. Regardless, the fact remains that I am partly in his debt. For that, I can spare him a moment to attest to his innocence. And as much as I hate to admit it. Vince is right.

I cannot show that Rimnick's vile act to diminish me was successful. He altered nothing.

I will not cower, nor will I wallow in anguish.

I will show him why he should never cross me again.

Because if I ever have the chance in the King Trials to slay that fiend.

I will strike him down where he stands.

***

One positive aspect of the floor-length gown is that it has a halter neckline that conceals my neck and it's long-sleeved. The sole negative aspect of this fortunate concealment is that its material wraps around my hypersensitive throat like a choker. The dress is simplistic elegance, my daggers hidden beneath the turquoise layers. Seliah's favourite colour. The top section of my hair is braided into a plait. I freed the rest to fall past my shoulders. My chest inflates with a deep breath. I swivel from the vanity, departing from the lit bedchamber.

Passing through the entranceway, Vince sidles my flank and we walk down the vacant corridor of our annex. The outdoor lights guide our way to the palace.

"You look worth the wait," he says.

I glance back at him, spurning him with a mere look.

His eyes inflate with mock fright before he turns his gaze forward. "I only meant to say that you look beautiful."

"Forgive me if I pay no value to your words. I am aware of a certain pattern forming among the Herems, mouthing kind and insincere inanities to distract from your true nature."

"You tribute that to their nature...or perhaps you should give it to their boundless desire to be the next Ruler of Urium. What did you expect? None of them are your companions—"

"And you are?" I stop, seizing his bicep, forcing him to a halt. "Am I to believe that you are the only good apple amongst the rotten lot? I do not trust your motives. Why rally my spirits to help me show face to my adversaries, why not let me sulk and be diminished? As a reward, you would have one less threat. Because even you proclaimed your will to rule. The only ones that impede your victory are us."

A deep line forms between his brows, pure frustration painted on his face.

"And suddenly, when I needed aid the most, you were there." I step back and feign a look of remembrance. "Oh right, that is because you had some secret, surprise for me. Do not even get me started with the peculiarity that is your mysterious invitation. Since when do contenders wow each other with surprises?"

"I am not your enemy," he says wearily.

"You are neither my enemy, ally or my friend. Then what are you?"

A smug smile tugs his lips to one side. "Something in-between."

I resume my walk; a maelstrom of anger and despair is like a stimulus of verve that powers my strides.

"That is because I care for you, as anyone with a heart would," he says to me and his words drive through my back.

"Why?" I ask over my shoulder.

"Because I'm a sentient being with emotions and feelings, same as you." Tone tinctured with wryness. "Just because I wish to ascend the throne, it does not undermine my compassion. What kind of Ruler would do such vile acts to obtain his aspirations?"

I smirk to myself. "One who wanted to obtain his aspirations."

"Without honour? Then I would be no better than the Ulris."

His words rein me to a pause. He moves into my periphery.

"I will let my actions speak for me. I do not want you to trust me. You would be foolish to do so," he agrees. "Just believe that I mean you no harm...unless. If one of the phases of the Trials demands that we come to blows, then I will show no mercy. But never with your back turned or to ambush you like Rimnick did, like the coward that he truly is."

The unseen bonds released; I continue forwards. "I should have never been in the position to be ambushed," I say thoughtlessly.

Vince glues himself to my side. "Hera, you cannot possibly blame yourself?"

I do not because the fault is mine.

"The shame is on him alone," he says resolutely.

We travel the rest of the journey in silence, crossing the web of suspended bridges to enter the open palace. The interior appears even more fanciful at night. The glistening moonlight showers blue-tinted light like beams of elf dust, its delicate radiance twinkling, only adding to its mythical grandeur. Promptly, we arrive at the widespread archway of the throne room. My gaze is drawn up to the grandiose domed ceiling, now draped with a sea of floating orbs packed tightly together. The same glowing gold ball Opal held. The might of one orb is great but the might of rows and rows of golden illuminations casts everything below a-gleam.

My gaze levels to the clusters of people in attendance that rivals the audience at the celebration of our advent. The Terra truly prizes the Virdi tournament. The Regulus sits on his throne with the Regine that stands beside him. The crown of gilt leaves on her head glints beneath the golden brilliance. The reaching moonlight sneaks glimpses between the ring of towering columns. But where most of the clusters mass, they stand encircled around one being. I slant my head to catch a glimpse; a crown of gilded thorns on Dario's head that trails around in two connecting tiers. No doubt cajoling about his sole efforts in achieving his feat.

My eyes waft through and my gaze falls on Rimnick. Dread seizes a breath. Three other Herems and two Terra nobles that I do not recognise accompany him. He stands there engaged in conversation, conversing blithely, and trading laughs nonchalantly. All of them are ignorant of the depraved savage that they are entertaining.

I grab Vince's bicep, gripping his attention. "What is Rimnick doing here?" Fear takes a hold of me. Inescapable. "He shouldn't be here—I—" my eyes hunt for Duce Merian, "—he does not even bear a sliver of remorse. Duce Merian needs to know—"

"He already knows," Vince says with an even tone. "I made sure of it, believe me."

I glance at Rimnick, then I stare back at Vince. "Then why is he still here?" I whisper back aggressively. "He should be disqualified, or does the High King commend such abominable acts?"

Vince cautions me with an abrasive look. "Duce Merian is empowered to make his own choices, and he chose to turn a blind eye to his misdeed. I do not know why."

Heat rises in my chest, blistering my skin from within. "He deserves to have his hands cut. If he will not sanction his penalty. I will do it myself—"

I lunge forward, but Vince is swift, cutting down an arm before me like a barrier. He holds me back, restraining my movements. With an elbow to his gut, he sucks in a jagged breath, taking a wary step back. I turn my livid glare on him.

"Do not cause a scene," he warns in a low voice, clearing his throat. "If you were absent here, it would have only solidified the impression of your fear. But if you attack him outright, you will still look just as weak, erratic, pitiful even."

Trembling with fury, I say, "So, should I let justice go unenforced? Should I... shoulder what he did to me with grace?"

"Never," he blurts, anger warping his face. "If they will not enforce their justice, you will invent your own. In the right time and in the right way. What better way than to boast of your presence, and show him that you are unscathed. That you will beat him where it matters most."

He nods at me emphatically. And that sense of clarity douses the flames that run rampant inside of me. Avid, I reclaim my calm, regaining my composure.

Vince takes a moment to examine me. "Good," he says and glances up. Something grabs his gaze because it remains beyond me. "If you will excuse me, I need to go check on something. Try not to kill him in my absence."

"I do not make promises that I cannot keep," I retort.

My gaze is trapped on Rimnick. To maintain my calm I need to know where he is at all times. Better the sight of him to foul my eyes by being in the safety of my vision. Vince shakes his head at me and moves to pursue whatever concerns him. I drift through the crowd, weaving past people with my eyes planted on him. He will not leave my sight again.

"Adalia," a merry voice greets. Solaris.

Gnashing my teeth for a second. I tear my gaze away from him to look back at Solaris.

His welcoming smile wavers, thinning into a terse line. "Are you alright...you look troubled?"

I construct a smile. With no idea to determine the degree of its believability. "Yes... I am just... mourning my defeat."

"Ah," he says, and his smile returns with full force. "Aren't we all, it is no surprise it was Dario, he is an expert tracker. But I am surprised that he figured out the ambiguity of the objective."

I refrain from rolling my eyes. "Yes... it was quite the plot twist."

Solaris's eyes do a quick scan over me. Worry furrows his brows. "Excuse me for saying this, Hera Adalia. But from the time that I have known you for. You seem to care little for wins or losses, but this one gnaws at you?"

My face twitches with sudden disquiet, blinking too many times. I stretch my smile but it wobbles. "It does not. We practically ran the breadth of the celestial forest, I barely ate, I'm starving. And exhausted."

Solaris clasps a hand on my shoulder. I shrink from him involuntarily.

"I see. Wait here and I will bring you something. In this case, you need a good slab of meat, but since we are among the Terra, I'll pile your plate with fruits and vegetables to renew your strength."

I thank him with a nod, briefly watching him make his way through with haste. Apparently, not all the apples are rotten. My gaze finds Rimnick. His gaze slices across the room to cut into me. Dread obliterates my insides. Rimnick's eyes poisons me with fear and the venom spreads incurably. Horror mounts with a series of hot flashes, fear roping itself around my neck, tightening. His unblinking stare suffocates me like unseen hands strangling my throat. I try to draw breath, but mid-inhale it's shredded into a desperate rasp.

Rimnick's lips expand into a needle-like grin.

My chest heaves, my mind grows hazy, and the world around me topples over.

I stagger back a few steps before I whip around, moving hastily to the exit. Through the threshold, I throw myself down to the left. My hand slides against the wall of aged wood, using it for stability, blindly guiding myself as far as I can. Black dots pulsing everywhere.

Burnt by panic. Beads of sweat are accumulating on my temples. I bend over and try to quash the growing tide of intense emotions that clog up my airways, hampering my ability to breathe.

Breathe, Adalia. You are stronger than this. I am stronger than this.

I squeeze my eyes shut, desperately trying to recall my father's words.

Make sure that every time that you are afraid, for fear will come. Make certain that you are the only one who knows of it.

Calm trickles in.

The Domuses' sons will aggravate you and try to test your capabilities. Let them underestimate you. So only in the Trials, will they come to regret it.

A shadow follows me. But it is not my own.

My spine snaps straight.

I wheel around and Markiveus shoots up his hands in mock surrender. "Forgive me. Did I disturb your panic attack?" Tone fashioned from scorn.

My resolve steels. "What do you want, Herem?"

He creeps towards me, and even in the gloom. I can see his amethyst eyes glittering with mischief. "What I want is to know if these exciting rumours that Rimnick is spreading are true? That you shared a forbbiden night of passion and sin with a fellow rival?"

A wave of fury crashes through me.

"I am warning you," I utter, the words crawling between my clamped teeth. "Leave me while you still have a tongue in your mouth."

I sidestep, but he blocks my path.

"And what will you do?" he asks with a belittling laugh. "I was wondering. If you would demean yourself by letting that mutt ravage you. Would you not consider redeeming yourself by adding me to your list? Since you're making the rounds."

Slimed with disgust, I repress a shiver. I try to escape him peacefully, but he makes the mistake of trying to impede me again. I grab a fistful of his garment, ramming him backwards until his back smacks against the wall. I jab my forearm under his chin and in a nanosecond. My other hand slips into the slit of my dress to unsheathe my dagger. My hand fisted around the glass hilt. With one inhalation, I plunge the dagger forward and the blade embeds into the wood—inches from Markiveus's temple.

Fear flares in his gaze, but it dissolves as he knocks both of my arms away and reaches for my throat. In a heartbeat, I seize his wrist, twisting it in an unnatural angle—his torso dunks into the direction of the agonising slant, forced to bend to my mercy.

His head whips back to look up at me.

Fear colours his eyes.

Good.

I wanted to take part in the Trials respectably, for my Regnum's salvation and for my father's honour. I wanted to be one kind of Hera, but wretches like him have forced me to be another.

"Listen carefully, because I will only say this once. If rumours you wish to spread, then proclaim this one. Stay away from me and keep my name from your tongue. If you do not—" I tauten my grip, twisting it further, resounding a sickening crunch. He struggles to rein in his pained groans, prominent veins bursting on his forehead. His face aflame.

"—I do not need to slay you to destroy you."

I release him, and he stumbles from me like a drunkard. I yank out the dagger from the wood, brandishing it in my grasp. Markiveus coddles his wrist to his chest like a wounded pup, but his eyes still burn with defiant anger.

"If Rimnick failed to put you in your place. I will not," he says with a look that conveys he wishes nothing more than to throttle me. With his good hand, he slings back a ready fist.

"Markiveus."

His fist freezes in the air for a moment before it melts back to his side.

Vince walks towards us coolly, with a petite servant tailing him. She stops once he gets too close to us. Vince stands beside Markiveus, and he rotates to face him with a jaded expression.

"My eyes must deceive me because I could have sworn, I saw you raise a fist at the Hera," he says it like a statement but in his tenor. He demands an answer.

Markiveus scoffs wryly. "What are you, her defender? Keeper of the Hera?"

"No, but if any harm befalls her. You will receive it in kind, tenfold." he vows. He smiles sadistically. "I honestly wish you would give me a reason."

Unexpectedly, Markiveus bursts into a fit of hysterics, pitching me with an inviting look, as if I will join him. He fixes his gaze back on Vince, and his irksome laugh fades. Markiveus slinks closer to him, ducking his head slowly, mockingly, pretending to examine his eyes, as if trying to unearth something.

"What is this?" he asks like his interests have been piqued. "For cycles I have watched noblewomen chuck themselves at your feet without a scrap of dignity. And not once did I ever see you genuinely reciprocate such passion." He jerks his chin back at me pointedly. His smile morphs into a sly leer. "Try to hide it under that stoic mask, but I see right through it. You care for the Hera," he says and his laugh restarts. "How unfortunate under these circumstances, because your love of power will always overshadow any fondness you bear for another." Markiveus pokes a finger at him. "I knew you had many talents, but I did not realise that theatre was one of them. You play the role of a valiant hero, very well."

"I do not care for your words," Vince says evenly, unprovoked. "Do you not see that your presence is unwanted. Or are you so accustomed to your family's apathy towards you that you cannot detect it from others?"

Markiveus laughs again, but this one lacks humour. Something sinister takes its stead.

He saunters right up to Vince until they are nose to nose. A fraught staredown ensues.

"You may care for her, Vinny. But you will not be able to defend her. Because there will come a time where you will have to choose between her and victory. And an Ethane will always choose power. Then who will protect her from you?"

Vince breaks into a one-sided smile. "You seem to know much about me. Are you secretly one of my many admirers?"

Markiveus eyes erupt with fury. He swings an ambitious punch, Vince sweeps under the attempt and thrusts a strong fist at his gut—Markiveus nearly falls over but regains stability at the last second.

"If you so much as look in her direction—in any ill way—I will rip your eyes from your skull." Anger reddens his gaze. "And if you touch her. Your body will be in need of a new head."

The two exchange blazing looks.

Markiveus rubs his wrist and says, "She will be your undoing. And when you both are routed; you will remember my words." He huffs angrily and storms back down the corridor.

The servant darts aside as he stomps past her, returning to the throne room.

Vince looks back at me, then glances at my dagger. "Are you alright? Or... should I be checking up on Markiveus?"

We both share a smile.

I move to sheathe my dagger. "I have a distinct feeling that he will not bother me again."

Vince dazzles me with his trademark smile. "Good, since we did our duty and made an appearance. I think it is time for me to show you your surprise."

He flags over the servant and she rushes to his call.

"My surprise?"

He nods, and his smile only brightens. "Not only for you, for the sake of my honour," he says with a flair of melodrama. "I must prove my innocence."

I release a small laugh. Stunned by my sincerity. "You do not need to; you have proven yourself enough."

The servant appears beside him.

Vince nods agreeably. "It may not be what I need to do, but it is what I want. So, come with me."