He recovers faster than I do. “Wardrobe problems?” His mouth twists into a playful grin, and something about it seems so familiar, and yet, not at all.
“Clearly,” I say with a small smile. His eyes quickly sweep over me, and only then do I remember that I’m wearing a robe. I pull it tighter around myself, fighting my flush.
He clears his throat. “Well, no need to worry. Your maid, Ellie, will be in soon to help you dress and prepare for dinner.”
He speaks with an air of authority, as though he is used to giving orders. Despite his plain clothes—slim black trousers and a tighter, green shirt that shows off his lean figure—I know right away that this man is no servant.
A contestant?
At the thought of having a maid wait on me, I quickly say, “That won’t be necessary. I can take care of myself, thank you.”
His gaze travels from my still dripping and tangled hair to the silk robe I clutch closed. “Clearly,” he says, mimicking my response to him only moments ago with that oddly familiar grin on his face.
I look down at myself and nearly laugh. “Okay, perhaps a maid will be necessary after all.”
He laughs softly before gesturing to the room behind me. “I just stopped by to see if everything was adequate?”
I find myself almost laughing once again. “If this is adequate, I can’t even imagine what is considered exquisite around here.”
His eyes search mine. “Then remind me to show you the gardens sometime.” He offers me a nod. “I look forward to seeing you at dinner, Paedyn.”
I blink at him.
“Strange,” I say slowly. “I don’t remember telling you my name.”
“Oh, you didn’t need to.” That crooked grin is teasing his lips once again. “I make it my business to know all the pretty girls who save my little brother.”
Plagues, he’s—
“I’m Kitt by the way.” He flashes me a grin before turning to stride down the hallway, leaving me shocked and staring.
Prince Kitt. As in ‘future king of Ilya’ Kitt.
What is it with me running into royals?
I had never seen the future king before, and I’d definitely never thought I’d meet him in a robe. He’s the heir to the throne, the next ruler who is ready to follow in his vile father’s footsteps. Between him and his brother—
His brother.
That’s why his smile looked so familiar.
I’ve seen a variation of it on the other prince’s face, though Kitt’s was bright and boyish while Kai’s was cockier, colder.
I watch as a small, dark-haired girl steps shyly up to my room with a timid smile tipping her lips. “Good evening, miss. I’ll be your maid while you’re here at the palace, and I’ll assist you with anything you may need.” Her voice is soft and delicate, but her rehearsed words are steady.
“Please, call me Paedyn.” She looks at me wearily, but I press on. “Plagues, a few hours ago I was sleeping in some garbage, so trust me when I say you shouldn’t call me miss.”
She fights a laugh at that, nodding slowly in agreement. “Great,” I sigh, “now that that’s settled, can you help me figure out what it is I’m supposed to wear tonight?”
She smiles shyly at me, looking relieved. “That, I think I can help with.”
We spend the next half hour filtering through outfits before settling on something relatively plain by the palace’s standards, though it’s still the nicest thing I’ve ever worn.
With half the wardrobe emptied onto the floor, we’ve decided on a pair of shiny black leggings paired with a silky, dark green blouse. It’s relatively low with drooping sleeves I already know will be accidentally dipped in food. I slip a small dagger into the back band of my pants, and the flat blade against my back is cool and comforting.
After lacing up high boots, Ellie motions me over to the vanity where she begins playing with my hair, trying to make the damp mop look presentable. “So, mi—” She clears her throat and tries again. “So, Paedyn,” she emphasizes my name with a small smile, “do you have any idea what the Trials will be like?”
“Not a clue.” I give her a pleading smile through the mirror. “I was hoping you would, though, seeing that I’m sure you overhear a lot in the palace?”
Her next words are little more than a murmur. “All I know is that this year is supposed to be…different.”
“Different?” I echo. “In what way?”
She shrugs, fistfuls of my hair grasped in her hands. “I dunno. Just different somehow.”
I struggle to see how a Trial could be different, seeing that each one is as bloody and brutal as the last. But the little information makes me feel even more unprepared for what is to come, and I try not to dwell on the unease curling in my gut.
Ellie soon gives up on my hair with a huff, deciding to let it lay limply down my back. She then adds powder to my face before smearing a bit of black onto my lashes. “There,” she says, studying me. “No more looking like you slept in garbage this morning.”
I snort. “Plagues, aren’t you coming out of your shell.”
She reddens before a knock on the door has her scurrying up to answer it. Lenny looks down at her and smiles, only causing her flush to deepen.
“Ready to go, Paedyn?” He drags his eyes from Ellie to meet mine.
When I meet him in the hallway, we begin our walk down the intricately decorated halls. As we zigzag through the maze that is the castle, I try my best to make a mental map of the layout.
One left, two rights, another left . . .
We are soon back in the large entry hallway that stretches to the even larger doors we first entered though two days ago. Lenny leads me to another pair of ceiling to floor doors a little further down the wide corridor as he murmurs, “The throne room. This is where you’ll be having your meals with the other contestants.”
Before I have a chance to spout off questions, he nods to the guards standing nearby, silently ordering them to push open the looming door.
And at first, no one seems to notice me.
They are all sitting around a long, wooden table at the center of the marble floor, so at odds with the delicate beauty of the throne room. As for the Elites surrounding it, they talk comfortably to one another, seeing that many of them likely grew up together.
I take a deep breath and begin walking slowly towards the table. Eight pairs of eyes flick in my direction, looking me up and down as I make my way over to them.
Of course I’m the last one to show up.
I pull out a chair at the end of the table next to Ace, reluctant to sit beside him, but relieved to be seated so everyone can stop staring.
Except that they don’t.
I feel their gazes and look up, unable stop words from tumbling out of my mouth. “So, what’s for dinner?”
I let out a sigh of relief when the girl sitting on the other side of Ace snorts and leans over the table to look at me. Her bob of wine-red hair shines in the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the window, competing with the shiny silver hoop in her nose. “I keep asking the same question!” Her honey eyes seem to glitter with mischief. “I’m Andy.”
“Paedyn,” I say, offering her a small smile.