The Red Lake Test 2

Mirelah;

I let out a deep breath as I ran my palms over the elaborate white dress I was in. Today is the test. My first test. My first chance to prove to Queen Velnara and myself that I deserve someone who believes in me.

This is my first opportunity to be seen as more than just a weakling. My first step in a journey of a million miles. 

I stare at my reflection in the mirror as the handmaidens finish up with my dress. I once again have my hair in a formal updo. My eyes are alive with a determination that's constantly battling the anxiety bubbling at the bottom of my guts. 

The dress I'm in is a very extravagant one. It's a corseted dress that flows down to my feet like spells of grace. It's beautiful, yes. But my head tilts as I stare at it. According to Queen Velnara, King Danash picked this dress's design for this test and Blod Crescent has used it for years. 

As my fingers ran over the firm corset, a fact I am more than certain of sets into my mind. The restrictive nature of this dress was no mistake or coincidence. It was deliberate. Any bride who failed this test would drown to death if not helped. 

There is no swimming out of a 5 or 6-foot-deep pool of thick blood in this overwhelming dress. The more I think about it, the more I realize that King Danash was a lunatic with a lot of power at his disposal, and to think that Kealith… The man I'm about to marry is the reincarnation of this man…

"It is time, My Lady. "One of the handmaidens says, crashing through my thoughts, and I hold my breath as I turn to her. I swallow past my dry throat as I clutch the fabric of my dress in my hands.

I nod, and the handmaidens move ahead of me. Opening the door for me, and leading me to what I hope would not be my doom or array of disappointments.

*********

It's a dark room. About a quarter the size of the throne room back home. The walls are black and made of an array of stones. There are two windows at the top of the high walls. On the other end of the room is a massive, relatively old but well-maintained picture of a dashing king. He has a dramatic crown on his head, red eyes, a staff, and blood swirling around him.

'King Danash Varkaine' 

The name drops in my mind. I'm certain it's him. The man looks deathly calm and has that eerily alluring beauty of the Varkeins. I gulp as I stare at the middle of the enclosed room.

Right there, in the middle of the room is a dramatically long rectangular pool of blood. Is this real blood or ember wine? I've been curious since yesterday, but refused to ask as I wasn't sure I'd like the answer I'd get and getting the wrong answer would make things particularly harder for me.

My heart pounds in my throat as I stare at the pool, the air thick with the iron scent of it. Somewhere inside me, I know this is real blood. How did they get so much blood?

 My heart begins to drum in worry, and I look away. I can't start overthinking now. 

There are candles lit beneath the painting and torches on the wall. I shut my eyes as I listen to the crackling sound of fire as it hungrily devours the oil-soaked rags wrapped around the wooden shaft of the torch. Over the years, I've realised that the sound of fire eating soothes me. And now, standing with just my handmaidens in this room, and anxiety beginning to claw up my mind with its ugly talons, I need all the calm I can get.

I instinctively straighten my back when I hear footsteps, and sure enough, people begin to pour into the room. Darven walks past me and stands on the right side of the room. His other brothers follow, and again, Kealith is absent. 

He's not going to be present for the test? I let out a breath and lubricate my throat as I think. Is that a good thing or not? Given the interactions we've had in the past two days, I think I'll be tense under his constantly scrutinizing gaze.

There are more footsteps, and King Damarion and Queen Velnara walk past me. They stand on the left side of the room, and Queen Velnara smiles at me. Four men in dramatic red and white robes walk past me to the left side of the room. I blink and stare back at the pool of blood, and King Damarion's voice speaks.

"Where is he? "I raise a brow in confusion, and just then, the soothingly spicy scent I have begun to recognize fills the room as rhythmic footsteps enter.

"Here, father. "

I freeze on hearing Kealith's voice.

Through my lashes, I watch him walk past his parents and the four men bow as he walks past with his cape following behind him. He stands at the other end of the room, and I can't stop myself from looking up at him.

He grabs a silver bowl, and my eyes go wide when he starts walking towards the rectangular blood pool. I look over at Queen Velnara in confusion, and she closes her eyes and gently nods her head. A signal for me not to worry. This is probably some part of the ritual she didn't tell me about.

He stands at the other end of the rectangle, and one of the men in robes puts a stick into the pool. I watch him stir the blood as if to prove that it wasn't solidified beforehand.

"Let's proceed. "King Damarion's voice booms, and without wasting a second further, Kealith takes the first step. My eyes widen in concern but to my surprise, as he moves his second leg, nothing happens. He's standing on liquid blood that was just stirred as if it's a floor made of brick. 

I blink in amusement as he starts walking up to me, and I can not for the life of me tear my gaze away from his feet. I look up at his face and he looks calm. So relaxed. Like this is something he has done since he learned to walk. 

Soon enough, he's in front of me. Without warning, he takes my hands and places the silver bowl of… fire, in them. 

I stare into his deep, black eyes, and he stares at me in silence for a second. Like he's studying me. He gently squeezes my hands under the bowl, and I freeze at his touch. 

"Just keep your eyes on me. "He whispers, and I struggle to respond or even nod. Captivated by his beauty. 

He turns away from me, and his healthy hair bounces with each confident step he takes across the lake I can clearly see rippling under his steps, and when he gets to the other end, He gets off, and turns around to face me.

I find myself staring between him and the painting behind him. There isn't much resemblance between him and King Danash, but that aura… that allure… that grace… It's the same. The dangerous confidence in that painting is the same thing I see in him. It's no wonder he was able to do this. If confidence is all it takes to walk over this body of blood, Kealith could walk over it a thousand times more with not a single hitch in his step. 

Another man in a robe walks over to me and puts a stick into the blood. He stirs it, and I watch the blood swirl. He stands up, and King Damarion's voice comes again.

"It's your turn. "