“Sloppy footwork, Gray. I’d hate to be your partner on the dance floor.”
I push against his chest with my palms, and he reluctantly releases me, laughing darkly. “Well then the feeling is mutual.” I’m flustered and I hate it. “And I have fabulous footwork, thank you very much—” I clear my throat, averting my gaze before adding quietly, “—when fighting.”
He’s right, once again. And once again, I hate it. I am a disastrous dancer. I may be able to dance around in a brawl, but that skill doesn’t extend to the ballroom.
He laughs again, but before he has the chance to make some sly comment that I would most definitely make him regret, Kitt drops down beside me.
“Toying with your competition, Brother?” I can hear the amusement in his voice as he walks over to a large lever on the wall and jerks it upward. The lights above us flicker and hum to life, painfully reminding me of home and the few buzzing lamps that scatter Loot Alley.
“I can’t help but toy with the competition that’s fun to play with,” Kai replies with a sloppy shrug.
I’m about to say something I likely shouldn’t when our conversation comes to a halt as the rest of the Elites quite literally fall into the room. Looking around, I find the space filled with plushy chairs and couches along with an assortment of snacks sprawled out on a long table, making it clear that we are waiting here until the interviews start.
Everyone mills about the room, dropping into chairs and grabbing food. I feel a brush of a hand on my shoulder and startle, spinning around to meet a pair of amused, honey eyes hiding behind stands of wine-red hair.
“Jumpy, aren’t you?” Andy quirks a brow.
“Yes, well, I thought you were Kai and was preparing to break your nose.”
She snorts loudly. “Understandable. My cousin’s an ass. Kinda.” She jerks her head towards Kai, but the smile doesn’t fade from her face.
“Your…” I blink. “Cousin?”
“Yep. He’s lucky enough to be related to me.” She smirks, her nose ring winking in the dim light. “They both are, though I’m only Kitt’s half-cousin, I suppose.”
“So, you grew up in the palace too? With them?” I nod my head towards the boys who look to be mercilessly teasing Jax.
“Yeah, unfortunately.” She shakes her head and chuckles. “The number of fights those two have gotten into over food…” she trails off, smiling to herself. “Anyways, I’m what they call a handy back at the palace. My dad and I fix anything that needs fixing in the castle, and trust me, those two have broken a lot over the years.”
Eventually, we find our way to one of the couches and plop down, talking hesitantly. We’re polite with each other, content to have a civil conversation while still being very aware of the fact that we are competitors.
The thundering sound of hundreds of stomping feet quiets us all. The rumble fills the arena above, making my stomach twist. They’re here. Hundreds of Ilyans—thousands, even. All here to watch the interviews, the show. Here to choose who they want to support, who they want to live.
I’m not sure how long it takes for the parade of footsteps climbing up the rows to quiet. But the voices don’t. They chant and cheer, waiting for the contestants to show themselves. The Imperials beckon us back towards the trap door where I suddenly find myself in another line, waiting my turn to pull myself out of the room and back into the glass box above us.
I hadn’t even noticed the future king beside me until he reaches up to pull something from my hair. I don’t even have time to flinch before he’s holding a flower in front of my face—the one I had forgotten was tangled in the silver strands.
“Although I think it suits you, maybe you shouldn’t do your interview with this on your head.” He gestures to the flower with a smile. “You might attract a lot of attention. Especially from bees.”
Play the part.
That’s what I must keep telling myself. Because every time I look at him, all I can see is his father, and a man who will one day rule over a corrupt kingdom. And yet, despite my disgust, I force a smile to my face. “Thank you. For saving me from both embarrassment and bees.”
Braxton steps beneath the exit, and I’m thankful for the excuse to look away from the future king. The Brawny doesn't even need to jump to grab hold of the lip before easily pulling himself off the floor and through the trap door. One by one, the boys help themselves up into the room above until only the two princes remain.
They help the girls up with ease, practically lifting Hera through the opening. Blair takes advantage of the situation, using it as an excuse to have the boys’ hands all over her. After Sadie politely asks for a boost, I’m left alone with the brothers.
I look up through the trap door, assessing my jump when Kai steps behind me, ducking his head so his chin nearly rests on my shoulder. “Too stubborn to ask for my help, Gray?”
“No,” I say coolly. “Too strong to need it.”
His next words are murmured close to my ear. “That’s what I like to hear.”
The heat of him vanishes when he steps to the side, gesturing to the trap door above with a smile twisting his lips.
I jump, my fingers curling around the edge of the opening as I dangle in the air for a moment. I’ve never been more grateful for the many years I’ve had to practice scaling buildings. I pull myself up, ready to swing my legs over—
“This damn dress,” I huff. It’s stiff, the fabric hugging my hips making it impossible to move freely.
“Go on.” It’s Kai’s taunting voice I hear behind me. “Ask for my help, Gray.”
I roll my eyes at the wall in front of me. “Stubborn, remember?”
I hear Kitt chuckle before I feel hands brushing my legs. Startled, I look down, eyes landing on a bent head of messy black waves. Kai is gripping the bottom seam of my dress, his eyes flicking up to mine.
“May I?” His voice is soft, tone amused.
I swallow, roll my eyes once again, and nod against my better judgment.
And then he’s ripping my dress.
He tears the fabric easily, creating a slit up the side of my thigh, freeing me from the tight confines of the fabric. His rough fingers briefly brush my skin as he says, “I am more than willing to rip your dresses for you, Gray. To help, of course.” Kitt snorts while Kai smirks. “You only need to ask.”
“Why ask when you’re so eager to offer?”
Kai’s laughter follows me as I finally pull myself up, arms burning with the strain. When I stand to my feet inside the glass box, I’m relieved to find the chairs are still empty. The thought of seeing the king after the way he so flippantly spoke about my father as if he weren’t his murderer makes my blood boil. Before that dinner, I’d never had to fight the urge to shove a fork through someone’s jugular.
I take a deep breath before stepping out onto the pathway.
The crowd roars.
Here we are.
The Imperials lead us to a small opening in the railing opposite the box, where stairs have been placed for us to get into the Pit below. My feet hit the hard sand of the arena as the crowd cheers, sounding as though the Trials have already begun.