A Gathering of Shadows Page 118

Lila was already gone.

V

Lila leaned back against Elsor’s door, gasping for air.

She’d caught him off guard, that much was sure, and now Kell knew. Knew she’d been in London for days, knew she’d been there, right beside him, in the tournament. Her heart was pounding in her chest; she felt like a cat who’d finally caught its mouse, and then let it go. For now.

The high began to settle with her pulse. Her head was throbbing, and when she swallowed, she tasted blood. She waited for the wave of dizziness to pass, and when it didn’t, she let her body sink to the wooden floor, Kell’s voice ringing in her ears.

That familiar, exasperated tone.

This is madness.

So superior, as if they weren’t both breaking all the rules. As if he weren’t playing a part, just like her.

You have to stop.

She could picture his frown behind that silver mask, the crease deepening between those two-toned eyes.

What would he do now?

What would she do?

Whatever happened, it was worth it.

Lila got to her knees, frowning as a drop of blood hit the wooden floorboards. She touched her nose, then wiped the streak of red on her sleeve and got up.

She began to strip off Elsor’s clothes, ruined from Ver-as-Is’s assault and the subsequent match. Slowly she peeled away the weapons, and the fabric, then stared at herself in the mirror, half clothed, her body a web of fresh bruises and old scars.

A fire burned low in the hearth, a basin of cold water on the chest. Lila took her time getting clean and dry and warm, rinsing the darkening grease from her hair, the blood from her skin.

She looked around the room, trying to decide what to wear.

And then she had an idea.

A novel, dangerous idea, which was, of course, her favorite kind.

Maybe it’s time, she thought, to go to a ball.

* * *

“Rhy!” called Kell, the crowd parting around him. He’d shed the helmet and switched the coat, but his hair was still slicked with sweat, and he felt breathless.

“What are you doing here?” asked the prince. He was walking back to the palace, surrounded by an entourage of guards.

“It was her!” hissed Kell, falling in step beside him.

All around them, people cheered and waved, hoping to get so much as a glance or a smile from the prince. “Who was her?” Rhy asked, indulging the crowd.

“Stasion Elsor,” he whispered. “It was Lila.”

Rhy’s brow furrowed. “I know it’s been a long day,” he said, patting Kell’s shoulder, “but obviously—”

“I know what I saw, Rhy. She spoke to me.”

Rhy shook his head, the smile still fixed on his mouth. “That makes no sense. Tieren selected the players weeks ago.”

Kell looked around, but Tieren was conveniently absent. “Well, he didn’t select me.”

“No, but I did.” They reached the palace steps, and the crowd hung back as they climbed.

“I don’t know what to tell you—I don’t know if she is Elsor, or if she’s just posing as him, but the person I just fought back there, that wasn’t some magician from the countryside. That was Delilah Bard.”

“Is that why you lost so easily?” asked the prince as they reached the top of the steps.

“You told me to lose!” snapped Kell as the guards held open the doors. His words echoed through the too-quiet foyer, and Kell’s stomach turned when he glanced up and saw the king standing in the center of the room. Maxim took one look at Kell and said, “Upstairs. Now.”

“I thought I made myself clear,” said the king when they were in his room.

Kell was sitting in his chair beside the balcony, being chastised like a child while Hastra and Staff stood silently by. Rhy had been told to wait outside and was currently kicking up a fuss in the hall.

“Did I not instruct you to stay within the palace walls?” demanded Maxim, voice thick with condescension.

“You did, but—”

“Are you deaf to my wishes?”

“No, sir.”

“Well I obviously didn’t make myself clear when I asked you as your father, so now I command you as your king. You are hereby confined to the palace until further notice.”

Kell straightened. “This isn’t fair.”

“Don’t be a child, Kell. I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t for your own good.” Kell scoffed, and the king’s eyes darkened. “You mock my command?”

He stilled. “No. But we both know this isn’t about what’s good for me.”

“You’re right. It’s about what’s good for our kingdom. And if you are loyal to this crown, and to this family, you will confine yourself to this palace until the tournament is over. Am I understood?”

Kell’s chest tightened. “Yes, sir,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

The king spun on Staff and Hastra. “If he leaves this palace again, you will both face charges, do you understand?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” they answered grimly.

With that the king stormed out.

Kell put his head in his hands, took a breath, then swiped everything from the low table before him, scattering books and shattering a bottle of avise wine across the inlaid floor.

“What a waste,” muttered Rhy, sagging into the opposite chair.

Kell sank back and closed his eyes.

“Hey, it’s not so bad,” pressed Rhy. “At least you’re already out of the competition.”