Page 63 of Powerless

Black-clad bodies dot the room, men of all ages milling about. That is, men of all ages who are either nobility, of royal blood, or have somehow managed to get an invite to the Purging Trials first ball.

After an hour of hopping between throngs of men, making idle conversation with both young and old, friend and foe, I’m restless and bored at best. Kitt and I have retired to reside by one of the many beautiful tables bordering the ballroom, brimming with drinks.

I’ve passed the time by admiring my favorite room of the castle, taking it in for the hundredth time. Its marble columns and large, ceiling-to-floor windows line the room, giving it an ethereal look. Chandeliers droop from the ceiling, dripping with diamonds and elegance. Two sets of emerald-padded staircases mirror each other as they descend to the marble floor from the balcony high above. Golden, detailed doors open onto the half-circle platform overlooking the ballroom floor, which is so shiny I can see my own bored reflection in it.

I sip at my second glass of wine, wishing I had something stronger.

Any minute now.

The small orchestra seated in the far corner of the elegant ballroom strums to life just as the glistening doors at the top of the balcony swing open. A beautiful woman cocooned in silky emerald steps up to the railing and looks down at the floor beneath her.

Mother.

She beams, practically glowing. Then she begins gracefully descending the staircase to her right with measured, light steps. Sometimes I forget that even she is a fighter with her Volt ability to manipulate electricity that can easily be used in deadly ways if she wished.

The click of her heels sounds against the marble floor as she makes her way across the ballroom. The men part, creating a path for her as she heads for my father seated at the far end of the room.

He smiles—reallysmiles at her. It’s a rare expression for him, one that he only seems to wear when she is around. He stands, meeting her in the middle of the room before taking her arm.

The king looks around, eying the men eying him. “Let the first ball of the Purging Trials begin!” The men cheer as the king and queen walk together, talking and welcoming those they pass.

And so it begins.

Women, both young and old begin filing through those golden doors, one at a time. As is tradition, the men always enter the ballroom first and wait for the women to arrive, in honor of the queen who appeared fashionably late to the ball where she first met Father, every eye on her as she made her entrance. Since then, every woman has been given the opportunity to make their arrival for all to watch and admire.

Dozens of them descend the staircases, all varying in different shades of green. As soon as they reach the floor, their dates whisk them away and take a seat at one of the many tables that litter the far side of the ballroom.

Kitt and I watch the parade of women as we sip our wine, admiring from a distance. They come in no particular order, no ranking or status involved in who gets to walk through the door next. I watch as my cousin sweeps in, wearing a mint green dress that contrasts her wine-red hair. Andy smiles at Jax from where he waits for her at the bottom of the stairs, a goofy grin on his face. She pulls him toward the large table meant for the contestants, centered among the others to allow the guests a perfect view of us. A dinner and show.

I watch them take a seat before turning my attention back to the balcony, finding the steady stream of women beginning to slow. I spot Hera and Ace making their way through the crowd, neither of them looking particularly happy to be paired with one another. My eyes dart back up to the doors when Sadie enters, her brown skin glistening against her light green dress as she walks down the steps to an awaiting Braxton.

A shade of lilac catches my eye, revealing Blair standing at the top of the stairs, peering down from the railing. Forest green fabric hugs her waist, her figure, before billowing out at her feet. Her hair is pinned and twisted out of her face, a sly grin already spreading across it when she spots me.

“Good luck, Brother,” Kitt mutters, and I don’t miss the amusement in his tone.

After being cornered before dinner a few nights ago, Blair insisted we go to the ball together. And seeing that I didn’t have a choice in the matter, a reluctant yes was the only answer I could give.

I shove my wine glass into Kitt’s hand with an annoyed sigh. “Take care of that,” I nod down to the cup he now clutches. “I’ll definitely be needing it.”

Kitt’s deep laugh follows me as I make my way to the bottom of the stairs, meeting Blair there just in time. I hold out an arm to her which she clutches greedily. “You look stunning, Blair,” I say softly, because she does, in a cold and sharp sort of way.

“Why, thank you, Kai,” she muses, her darkened lashes lowering as she takes in my attire, my hair, my face. “As do you.”

I lead us to the table, now mostly filled with the contestants sitting stiffly around it. When I take the seat beside Jax, he shoots me that bright smile of his that never fails to make me return it.

“Look at you, J. You cleaned up nice,” I say, surveying his crisp suit and dark pants that are actually long enough to cover his ankles for once. “You can’t even tell I whooped your ass in the ring this morning.”

I hear Andy snort on the other side of Jax before she leans in to add, “You’re not the only one.”

Jax rolls his eyes at our teasing, but the grin never leaves his face. “Where’s Kitt? He’s the only one of you who’s nice to me.”

Andy presses a hand to her chest, feigning offense while I don’t even bother trying to deny that he’s right. Instead, I simply say, “True, but you know I’m far more fun.”

Jax opens his mouth to respond, but it’s a cold female voice I hear instead. “Are you? Because I’m bored.”

I slowly turn to face Blair, having forgotten she was even there. I’m a terrible date, though I suppose she signed up for this when she asked me to be her partner, so I don’t waste my time feeling bad about it. “So sorry I’m not entertaining you, Blair.” I hear Andy snort before I add, “How are you this evening?”

She smiles, seemingly pleased that I’m providing her my undivided attention. And that is all she needs to begin complaining about the uncomfortable pins in her hair before going on to discuss the material of her gown, insisting I should feel how soft it is.

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