The Royal Trials: Imposter Page 15

  Giving me a toothy grin, Ty pushed the trunk open with the toe of his boot and displayed an impressive collection of short daggers.

  “Knife work,” he told me with a smug smile. “Something tells me you're going to be good at this too.”

  Shit. As bad as this was going to be for laying low, I couldn't stop the flutter of excitement that zapped through me at the sight of all that pretty steel.

  He was right. I was damn good with a knife.

  Maybe this day wouldn't suck so hard after all.

  The first half of the day flew by, and before I knew it we were facing our test in knifework. I'd managed to successfully avoid Ty as much as I could, but thanks to the binding oath, I wasn't able to avoid showing off my existing experience with the short blades.

  Interestingly, though, I wasn't the only one who knew her pointy end from the dull. Several other ladies—including Gracelin—showed mediocre proficiency, but the biggest surprise was Sagen. The exotic, dark-haired beauty from Asintisch had matched me skill for skill all day, and I was quietly looking forward to this test to really determine who was better with a blade.

  Ty had informed us that our assessment would be in throwing. We'd need to aim at three different targets at varying distances, and our scores would be based on which rings of the targets we hit.

  Commander Hansel, the same elderly soldier who had assisted with the test on our first combat day, handed out three blades each to all the ladies, then accepted a clipboard and pencil from Ty to score.

  “When your name is called,” Ty announced, raising his voice to be heard by everyone, “you'll step up to this line.” He walked over to the black, painted line on the gravel and tapped it with his boot. “From here, you'll throw your knives at each of the three targets you see assembled. Anyone who steps over the line will be marked down. Understood?”

  Several ladies murmured their understanding, and Ty gave a short nod.

  “Then let's begin. Commander Hansel, who is up first?”

  The older man cleared his throat and consulted his list, calling out the first lady's name. She stepped nervously up to the line and took aim.

  One by one, my rivals took their turns. Some had improved noticeably since the morning, which was a testament to Ty's teaching, but still no real threat. Until it was just Sagen and me.

  The two of us eyed each other warily, waiting for Commander Hansel to call whoever was up next. Sagen was just as competitive as I was, so the result of this test would be interesting, to say the least. Could a spoiled princess from Asintisch really be better at knife throwing than a Pond criminal?

  “Princess Sagen, you're next,” the commander announced, and her lips pursed with annoyance. I knew why, too—same reason I gave her a smug smile as she stepped up to the line. By going last, I had the advantage of knowing how she'd scored, while she could only guess at which rings I might hit.

  Carefully, Sagen balanced the first blade in her hand and sighted the closest target. It was common practice in a lot of Teich to throw from the hilt, using a hammer grip. It protected the throwers hand from the blade, but it also impacted accuracy. As I had suspected she might, Sagen flipped the blade over and held it in a pinch grip, where only her thumb and forefinger gripped the flat of the blade right at the tip. It was a much more sophisticated throw than what Ty had taught us and was designed to throw with both maximum speed and force.

  Coincidentally, it was also the way I'd been taught.

  Sagen hit the first two targets with ease, striking the red-dotted bullseyes on both boards dead center. Her third throw, though, was just a fraction less accurate and landed on the thin yellow ring around the bullseye.

  Ty let out a low whistle, clapping as he collected her knives and marked down her scores. “Very impressive, Your Highness. Is this a skill that is common among your people?”

  The look Sagen gave our sexy trainer was full of contempt and disgust. “No.”

  Without wasting her breath to elaborate further, she flipped her glossy black hair over her shoulder and brushed past me to join the other ladies in the spectators’ stands. They were all cheering excitedly for her, and the superior look on her face spoke volumes about how safe she felt in her score.

  “Lady Callaluna,” Commander Hansel said. “Lucky last. Please step up.”

  Blocking Sagen and the other bitches—I mean, competitors—from my mind, I moved into position behind the line and moved my first blade into a pinch grip, same as Sagen had done.

  I couldn't help myself and glanced over at Ty before I sighted my target to throw. He was staring at me with an intensity that made me shiver, but his jaw was set tight, and he gave my grip a stern look. Almost like he was warning me not to show off? Or was it that he thought I'd make a fool of myself by “copying” the foreign princess?

  Tearing my eyes away from him, I focused on the first target. Just as I had done a thousand times before, I let my peripheral vision fade out so that all I could see was the red dot in the center of the target. I took a long, slow breath, then released it carefully. At the tail end of my exhale, the knife flew from my fingers with a snap of my elbow, landing perfectly dead center of the target.

  “Good,” Commander Hansel said quietly. “Next target.”

  I gave him a small nod and moved a few steps to the side to be sure I had the second target dead in front of me. It was a mistake that loads of the other girls had made, assuming that they weren't allowed to move from the static spot. But it was a line, not a dot, for a reason, and you'd always get better accuracy from straight on than at an angle.

  Again, I released my blade and struck that happy little red mark in the middle of the board. Sagen and I were tied. If I could hit the bullseye on this last throw, I'd beat her.

  Not that we won anything for it, but damn, it'd feel good. That prissy bitch had been rubbing me all sorts of wrong ways since she'd arrived, and I was almost totally sure she'd been the one messing with my potions in Lee's class.

  The third target was a long way away; only a couple of the other girls had even hit the board, let alone touched the target. But it was no different from the training Master Bloodeye had put me through as a child, so I was confident about scoring well on it. Could I beat Sagen, though?

  Breathing calmly, I found my zone, the place that Bloodeye had joked was unique only to me where I could zero in on my target and visualize it a whole lot closer than it really was.

  The knife left my fingers with ease, hurtling through the air end over end until it hit the wooden board with a heavy thunk.

  My heart stuttered, and I squinted to get a better look. Had I done it? It looked damn close, at any rate. Ty strode over to mark the score on his paper, then turned to me with a sly grin.

  “Just hit the edge of the bullseye, Lady Callaluna,” he announced loud enough to be heard by the spectators too. “That makes you today's top scorer. Congratulations.”

  Biting back the grin of triumph that wanted to break through, I gave Ty and Commander Hansel a respectful nod, then wiped my now sweating hands off on my shirt.

  “Ladies, you're all dismissed for the day. Don't forget, tomorrow you're back in the library with Zan, and then the following day will be the conclusion of the first trial. I implore you all to rest well and take the last test seriously, as the consequences of failure are dire.” Ty ran his gaze across everyone, then paused on me. “I hope you are all prepared.”

  For a brief moment, the Pond dweller in me toyed with the idea of exploiting my friendship with Ty to gain knowledge of the second trial... or even what the final test on Saturday might consist of. But as quickly as the thought came, I brushed it aside. I needed to be distancing myself from the temptingly seductive teachers, not getting closer. If I wanted hints, then I'd damn well better be nice to the royal assholes at dinner.

  “Lo,” Ty called quietly after me as I followed the other ladies out of the arena. “Can we talk a moment?”

  When I made the mistake of turning to look at hi
m, my resolve almost slipped. His emerald green eyes begged me for answers, and it pained me to turn a cold shoulder so soon into our acquaintance.

  Still, it was better now than later, when serious feelings might actually get hurt.

  “Sorry.” I shrugged and shook my head. “I need to wash up. See you at the final test on Saturday, I guess. If I'm still alive.” This last part was delivered with a level of bitterness that I’d intended to keep to myself. Not caring to hear his response, I took off out of the arena and made my way back to my room.

  19

  I had meant what I said to Jules that morning. There was always a choice in any situation, and I despised the saying “there was no other choice” because it was a lie. Simply because the other choice might suck goose balls, didn't mean it was any less of a choice.

  In light of that, I had a choice.

  I had several choices, if I were being honest with myself.

  None of them were particularly great, but they were still there.

  So, I chose. I chose to live and fight another day.

  It may have felt a whole lot like I was rolling over and admitting defeat, playing the part of Bloodeye’s perfect little protégé just as I had for my whole life, but that was far from the truth. He thought I could make it to the end, and that gave me a certain level of confidence in my chances. But the idea of me, an imposter, becoming queen of Teich and then just handing over the kingdom to a criminal like him… it was laughable.

  If he truly thought I would go through with his plan, he didn't know me at all. And it was this that I banked on.

  That night, I remained stoic as Jules dressed me for dinner in a strapless, floor-length gown that glittered like starlight when I moved. My shoulder had healed enough that it no longer needed a bandage, and I rejected the wrap Jules tried to give me to hide the wound.

  As I secured the matching mask to my face, looping the ribbons under my pale purple curls, Jules made a pathetic, sobbing sound that snapped my resolve to ignore her.

  “What did he threaten you with?” I asked softly, hoping, praying she would have a plausible reason to betray me. Or at least a damn good story.

  “Nothing,” she whispered back. It was the answer I’d both suspected and dreaded, but it in no way shocked me. The lives we’d led, just like the lives of thousands of others who'd lost everything during the Darkness, they didn't make us into altruistic people.

  Pond dwellers looked out for themselves and no one else.

  “So he bribed you, then?” I felt sick saying the words, hearing how little our years of friendship meant to her. She nodded miserably and didn't offer any more explanation.

  Sighing heavily, I left the room and made my way to dinner with the weight of my choices dragging at every step. Juliana had looked out for herself, and now it was my turn to do the same.

  When I swept into the great hall, I was no longer an imposter. I was Lady Callaluna of Riverdell, and gods help anyone who stood in my way.

  “Oh great,” Sagen sneered at me from across the table when I located my place card and stood behind my chair to await the royals’ entrance. “I get the pleasure of dining opposite a purple-haired freak of nature. Maybe if I'm lucky, you'll be the one drinking poison tonight.”

  Determined to ignore her childish jabs, I simply smiled and stroked my pale purple curls, which I'd left out for the night. “It's a shame it's already fading,” I sighed. “I feel like it really helped me to stand out.”

  “It certainly did,” a husky man-voice agreed, and Prince Louis took the empty space beside me. “Not that you needed any help in that department, Lady Callaluna.”

  Sagen spared me a glare, then quickly turned on the charm for the prince who was to be dining with us that evening. She hadn't even bothered with a proper mask, instead sporting one painted on with glittery makeup so her heavy lashes weren't hindered as she batted them in Prince Louis's direction.

  “Prince Louis,” she cooed. “How lovely to have you join us. I was hoping to get the opportunity to converse with you tonight after your brothers made such excellent dining partners last night.”

  The prince's mask was almost complete, only showing his face from the lips down, but even so, I could spot a fake smile when I saw one.

  “Your Highness,” he murmured back. “A pleasure. When my father told me you would be joining the Royal Trials, I was most surprised.”

  Sagen laughed a throaty, sexual laugh but the tension in her brow made me feel like I’d missed a subtle insult somewhere in Prince Louis greeting. “Surprised in a good way, I should hope?”

  “Of course,” Prince Louis responded, but the brief hesitation made a liar out of him, and I bit back a laugh as I pulled my chair out to sit. “Allow me,” he said, placing his hands on the back of my seat and pushing it in for me as I sat. Like the perfect gentleman. Or a prince.

  “Thank you, Your Royal Highness.” I forced a polite smile onto my face as I thanked him and met his eyes for the first time without flinching. Surprisingly, they weren't the eyes of the murderous bastard I'd been expecting. Instead, they were... almost kind.

  But that made no sense, so I chalked it up to the dim candlelight and shoved it out of my mind. I had a job to do, and the fact that it would piss off Princess Sagen only gave me more incentive to do it well.

  “Call me Prince Louis,” he said with a small, almost mischievous grin. “Titles can get so impersonal.”

  I gave a small nod but said nothing more for fear of betraying my real feelings toward him.

  Operation Flirt with a Coldhearted Royal Bastard was officially underway. I just needed to get through the death of another rival before the appetizers were served.

  As expected, moments later the waitstaff appeared with glasses of sparkling wine, placing them down on the table in front of each dinner guest. A tense silence swept through the room as each lady eyed her own drink with fear and dread. Beside me, though, a petite brunette was starting to hyperventilate.

  “Are you okay?” I whispered to her, noticing her chalky, pale face and beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

  She shook her head frantically, not taking her eyes from the glass in front of her. “I can't do this,” she whispered back in a panic. “I can't. I can't do it. I can't.” Her hands trembled so hard on the edge of the table that her cutlery began shaking, so I placed a hand over one of hers to try and calm her. “It's me,” she insisted, still staring at the wine. “I know it’s me. I can't do it, though. I can’t die like this; I'm too young and-and-and—”

  “Shhhhh,” I attempted to sooth her as her breathing came in faster gasps. “You can't know that for sure. There was no clear loser today, and Ty never announced anyone's scores except mine and Her Highness's.”

  “True,” Sagen chimed in from across the table. “But you did fail pretty hard, so it could totally be you tonight.” She shrugged with a callous disregard for the other girl's feelings, then turned her fluttering lashes back on Prince Louis.

  This only served to panic the girl even further, and she began making a high-pitched whining noise that could only be a whole new level of freak out.

  “Hey, listen to me.” I tried to get her attention in a soothing voice. “You don't know it’s you. Not for sure. Just take a few deep breaths and find your center of calm. You'll feel so much better for it.”

  It sounded like a whole bunch of bullshit, and it was. Find your calm? What the fuck use would that be if her wine really was poisoned? Still, my conscience wouldn't allow me to simply sit there and ignore her panic attack.

  “Look, I bet I can smell if it is or not,” I suggested, peeling my hand from hers where it gripped the table. “They wouldn't poison more than one of us, so if they smell the same...” I trailed off with a shrug and picked up the flute of wine in front of her.

  Bringing it to my nose, I hesitated just the briefest moment. What if it was the type of poison that started working when inhaled? What if it didn't even need to be ingested?

  �
��It should be safe to smell,” Prince Louis murmured under his breath so quietly that I was sure no one else heard him. “Concentrated cyano algae need to be consumed to do any real damage.”

  His words made me glare sharply in his direction, suddenly remembering he was there and at least partially responsible for whoever died in a matter of minutes. “Cyano algae?” I repeated, frowning. “You mean this poison is made from red-tide?”

  Prince Louis's lips tightened as he stared at me. “You know it?”

  “I know it's incurable,” I responded in a voice dripping with venom. “And a horrifically painful way to die. You royals really are a bunch of sick fucks.”

  Fuck the plan to flirt with this asshole; it was all I could do not to throttle him right there at the dinner table. Cyano algae were a type of algae that only grew in the Pond, to the best of my knowledge. Locals called it red-tide because of the painful, spreading rash it caused when it came into contact with skin. Everyone knew how dangerous it was, and I was shocked to hear that someone had distilled it down into a poison to kill off ladies in the Royal Trials.

  I'd come into contact with it a time or two myself, so I could vouch for how painful the rash was. I could only imagine how excruciating it would be to feel that from the inside.

  Unfortunately, it emitted almost no odor, so it'd be impossible to smell it when mixed with wine. Not that I was going to let on about that; my poor dining companion was in enough of a state as it was. So I took a quick sniff of her glass, then picked up my own and did the same.

  “Totally identical,” I reassured her. “Not even a hint of poison to be smelled.” I replaced the glass in front of her and was relieved to see her breathing slow back down a little.

  “If you're so sure,” Princess Sagen commented with a cruel twist to her mouth. “Why don't you swap glasses?”