Page 33 of Powerless

Prince Kitt. As in ‘future king of Ilya’ Kitt.

What is it with me running into royals?

I had never seen the future king before, and I’d definitely never thought I’d meet him in a robe. He’s the heir to the throne, the next ruler who is ready to follow in his vile father’s footsteps. Between him and his brother—

His brother.

That’s why his smile looked so familiar.

I’ve seen a variation of it on the other prince’s face, though Kitt’s was bright and boyish while Kai’s was cockier, colder.

I watch as a small, dark-haired girl steps shyly up to my room with a timid smile tipping her lips. “Good evening, miss. I’ll be your maid while you’re here at the palace, and I’ll assist you with anything you may need.” Her voice is soft and delicate, but her rehearsed words are steady.

“Please, call me Paedyn.” She looks at me wearily, but I press on. “Plagues, a few hours ago I was sleeping in some garbage, so trust me when I say you shouldn’t call memiss.”

She fights a laugh at that, nodding slowly in agreement. “Great,” I sigh, “now that that’s settled, can you help me figure out what it is I’m supposed to wear tonight?”

She smiles shyly at me, looking relieved. “That, I think I can help with.”

We spend the next half hour filtering through outfits before settling on something relatively plain by the palace’s standards, though it’s still the nicest thing I’ve ever worn.

With half the wardrobe emptied onto the floor, we’ve decided on a pair of shiny black leggings paired with a silky, dark green blouse. It’s relatively low with drooping sleeves I already know will be accidentally dipped in food. I slip a small dagger into the back band of my pants, and the flat blade against my back is cool and comforting.

After lacing up high boots, Ellie motions me over to the vanity where she begins playing with my hair, trying to make the damp mop look presentable. “So, mi—” She clears her throat and tries again. “So,Paedyn,” she emphasizes my name with a small smile, “do you have any idea what the Trials will be like?”

“Not a clue.” I give her a pleading smile through the mirror. “I was hoping you would, though, seeing that I’m sure you overhear a lot in the palace?”

Her next words are little more than a murmur. “All I know is that this year is supposed to be...different.”

“Different?” I echo. “In what way?”

She shrugs, fistfuls of my hair grasped in her hands. “I dunno. Just different somehow.”

I struggle to see how a Trial could bedifferent, seeing that each one is as bloody and brutal as the last. But the little information makes me feel even more unprepared for what is to come, and I try not to dwell on the unease curling in my gut.

Ellie soon gives up on my hair with a huff, deciding to let it lay limply down my back. She then adds powder to my face before smearing a bit of black onto my lashes. “There,” she says, studying me. “No more looking like you slept in garbage this morning.”

I snort. “Plagues, aren’t you coming out of your shell.”

She reddens before a knock on the door has her scurrying up to answer it. Lenny looks down at her and smiles, only causing her flush to deepen.

“Ready to go, Paedyn?” He drags his eyes from Ellie to meet mine.

When I meet him in the hallway, we begin our walk down the intricately decorated halls. As we zigzag through the maze that is the castle, I try my best to make a mental map of the layout.

One left, two rights, another left . . .

We are soon back in the large entry hallway that stretches to the even larger doors we first entered though two days ago. Lenny leads me to another pair of ceiling to floor doors a little further down the wide corridor as he murmurs, “The throne room. This is where you’ll be having your meals with the other contestants.”

Before I have a chance to spout off questions, he nods to the guards standing nearby, silently ordering them to push open the looming door.

And at first, no one seems to notice me.

They are all sitting around a long, wooden table at the center of the marble floor, so at odds with the delicate beauty of the throne room. As for the Elites surrounding it, they talk comfortably to one another, seeing that many of them likely grew up together.

I take a deep breath and begin walking slowly towards the table. Eight pairs of eyes flick in my direction, looking me up and down as I make my way over to them.

Of course I’m the last one to show up.

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