Page 147 of Powerless

She wasn’t aiming for Braxton. No, that blunt, brutal death was heading for the silver-haired girl striding unsuspectingly towards her victory. I may have cheated Death of its intended victim, but I gave it a life, nonetheless. I borrowed Blair’s power and nudged fate in another direction. And it found Braxton.

But I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again, and again, and again to save that silver-haired girl.

Quite the team, Death and I.

But I’ve had three days to recover from the Trial. Three long days spent in the training yard, slicked with sweat, or locked within a study with my father’s Silencer where I am also likely drenched in sweat. Damion pushes me hard, smothering me with his ability while I fight to use it against him.

Whether it’s my body or brain aching from either type of training, I welcome it. Distraction is the best form of passing the time, and I seem to have a lot of things I wish to be distracted from these days.

“Kai, are you listening, boy?”

I give my head a shake, returning to the conversation at hand. “Intently, Father.”

The king sighs deeply and Kitt cuts me a look. We’ve been stuffed in his study for hours, discussing everything from guard rotations to the Resistance, which we have no new information on since the few prisoners from the attack at the first ball are now all dead. Although, Father doesn’t seem particularly concerned by that fact now and has instead been talking about the Trials for far longer than I have been listening.

He eyes the two of us as he asks slowly, “It isinterestinghow the Slummer girl won this last one, don’t you think?”

I stiffen, and I think Kitt might have done the same.

I all but handed the victory to her, choosing revenge over winning. Torture over triumph. I wonder if Father knows this. Knows that I let her walk over to that flag without another thought. Knows that I smiled at the sight of her, strong and sure, as she raised that flag into the air.

“She won fairly. I don’t find thatinteresting.” The words are out of my mouth before I can think better of them.

A humorless chuckle fills the room. “That’s just the thing,” Father says, green eyes piercing through me in a way Kitt’s never could. “Slummers don’t win.”

I stiffen at the word he spits but don’t dare to break his stare. “And yet she did.”

Kitt shoots me a look, but my eyes are pinned on the king as he says, “And you better not let it happen again. Don’t forget that it is you who must win these Trials, and if you need me to remind you what will happen if you don’t, I will.” He leans forward, his voice lethal. “I trained you for this, so you will not disappoint me. Understood, Enforcer?”

The threat in his tone is clear, and I hear it ringing in my ears.

Lose and you are nothing.

“Understood, Your Majesty.”

And with that, I stand to my feet and stride out the door. I’m pacing the halls, feeling like I need to hit something, need to drive my sword into my bedpost for the hundredth time. After all my years of training and mastering my masks, it’s always been my father who is the only one able to make me lose control. I drag my hand through my hair as I make my way back towards my room, collecting myself with every step.

“Kai.”

I run a hand down my face, sighing as I spin to face a very unhappy Kitt. “What the hell was that?” he asks harshly.

I almost laugh. “That was one of the more civil conversations we’ve had, and you know it.”

Kitt heaves a sigh, sounding tired. “Look, I know your relationship with Father is...difficult. I get it. After all the training he put you through and the expectations he has for you now, believe me, I get why you two have trouble getting along. But everything he does is for the best.”

I scoff and shake my head at the ceiling, wondering if Kitt will ever stop trying to prove himself to the king. “You know, you might think differently if he had cut you open as a boy and watched you try to stitch the wound.” I take a step towards him. “Or maybe after being forced to face your worst fears over and over andover again, you would realize that not everything he does is for thebest.”

I laugh bitterly, and Kitt nearly flinches at the sound. “He made me a murderer, molded me into a monster. But that was for thebestright?” I jab a finger into his chest as I say, “That was for your benefit, so you can use me when your king. Just like he has.”

Wrong thing to say.

The words hit him like a physical blow. I see the shock and hurt settle on his face as I force myself to take a step back, to calm down. I’m losing my temper for reasons I don’t even understand, and that is only making me angrier. It’s as though every pent-up piece of my past is fighting to free itself, fighting to flood to the surface.

“Kai—”

“I think you will make a great king, Kitt,” I say quietly, cutting through his words. “And I will proudly serve you. But you need to learn to think on your own because one day, Father won’t be there to do it for you. So, I suggest you start figuring out whatyouthink is for the best.”

And with that, I turn and head down the hall.

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