A Court This Cruel & Lovely （Kingdom of Lies, #1）
Stacia Stark
For mum.
Thank you for believing in me.
CHAPTER ONE
There were few things more unsettling than watching ashen-faced Abus stand on the high platform in our village square, several of the king’s guards directly behind him.
“Ten copper coins says he vomits.”
I slammed my elbow into my brother’s gut. “Quiet.”
Tibris gave me a rare grin, and the vise around my chest loosened a little at his attempt to distract me from the guards.
“I’ll take that bet,” his friend Natan muttered on my right. A chilly breeze rustled the tree branches above us, and he hunched his shoulders, shoving his hands into the pockets of his cloak.
“You’re both terrible,” Asinia said, but her lips twitched.
The frost-speckled ground sparkled beneath the weak winter sun as we stood in the middle of our tiny village, our breaths turning to misty clouds in the frigid air. Abus had reached twenty-five winters, and today, he would receive his allotment of his power back.
From my position near the back of the crowd, I could observe everyone. The guards, wearing maroon and gold and dotted among the villagers. The priestess in blue robes, preening under our attention. The king’s assessor, dressed in black, his large silver brooch denoting his power.
To them, our faces probably all blurred into a mass of poor, barely educated peasants dressed in rough homespun.
Abus was quiet and thin, and he wrung his hands, clearly nervous. While most of our magic was sacrificed to the gods days after we were born, the whisper of power he received back today would help him contribute to our village.
The king’s guard standing behind Abus looked bored, his uniform covered in dust from traveling. But the three guards surrounding Abus’s family were resting their hands on the hilts of their swords. If Abus was found to have somehow defied the gods, his mother, father, and sister would be instantly slaughtered. Right before Abus was taken to the city to burn on Gods Day. I shivered, wishing I’d brought a thicker cloak.
One of the guards glanced toward our group, and my shivers turned to a full-body shudder. My heart stumbled on its next beat, and my breaths turned to shallow pants.
“It’s not that cold, Prisca.” Natan scowled at me. But his face was pale too. Anyone with a shred of intelligence feared the king’s guards.
On my left, Tibris was quiet, his eyes dark with sorrow. We didn’t often talk about what would happen when I disappeared in a couple of years. I was going to have to figure out my future—and soon.
Because this kingdom meant death for me.
The king’s assessor stepped forward, dark eyes narrowed in his strongly carved face. His knife-sharp cheekbones, hard mouth, and wide shoulders made him a powerful, intimidating man—one who was known to enjoy his work immensely.
It was his job to check whether Abus had somehow hidden his magic all these years. That power made the assessor—and others like him—infinitely valuable to the king.
The assessor watched Abus. His smile was slow as he held his hands close to Abus’s face.
You’d have to be blind to miss the disappointment in the assessor’s eyes when he shook his head. Abus was indeed powerless—his sacrifice accepted by the gods when he was a newborn. Something unwound in my chest, and I could suddenly breathe easier. We’d never had an assessor find one of the corrupt during a Gifting ceremony in our village. They were usually discovered as children—when they accidentally used their powers for the first time. Or they were captured while attempting to flee before they reached twenty-five winters.
Behind Abus, three more villagers waited for their turn—each of them recently having celebrated twenty-five winters, and all three of them displaying varying levels of excitement and terror. Jaelle looked like she might faint, while her twin brother Wilkin was expressionless. Lina shifted on her feet, clearly eager to receive her own power. She nodded to her grandparents, who were standing at the front of the crowd, smiling proudly up at her.
The king’s assessor stepped back. The priestess held up her hand, and we bowed our heads.
“As infants, we gift our magic to the gods, so that they may be pleased with our offering and grow it under their care. Today, Abus will reap his reward, the gods acknowledging the sacrifice he made, so that they may watch over us and protect us from those who would threaten our way of life.”
She practically spat the last words, her hatred of the fae palpable. They were the creatures who had caused the need for such sacrifice. The monsters who would prey on us if our king hadn’t found a way to protect our kingdom from their cruelty.