Page 17 of Mistake of Magic
A knock halts our conversation. Well, the males’ conversation, as I’m still unsure what all this means, much less what to say about it.
“I’ll get it,” I say, extricating myself from Shade’s hold to open the door—onto a very befuddled Kora. She’s in uniform, the emerald shade of her belted tunic picking up the gem in her ear. Her blue eyes are as wide as mine must be.
Running a hand through her short hair, as she seems to have been doing for a while now, the female looks around the room, shifting her weight uncomfortably. “I...”
“I imagine there is some discussion taking place beyond these walls,” River says, his voice collected as he rises to his feet and bows, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. A transformation from deadly warrior to well-mannered prince, all in the space of a blink.
“Everyone saw you winning,” Kora says bluntly. “The whole bloody Citadel came to watch you destroy Malikai. You could have wiped the sand with them, even when the bastards went after Lera. And then, a few heartbeats before your victory would have been undeniable, you... surrendered.” Kora stops speaking, the silence its own question.
No one answers it.
Kora lowers her face.
“What conclusion do you draw from all this, Kora?” River asks.
The female meets River’s eyes. “That you made a decision for reasons other than fearing for your lives. And that you will be paying a high enough price for it as is, without being asked to satisfy my curiosity on top of that.”
A corner of River’s mouth twitches and he offers another small bow to our guide, while my own heart pounds. “And now you are here because we are still first trials and are thus expected somewhere.”
She nods reluctantly. “Breakfast.”
“And if we’re not hungry?”
“Quints are now expected to spend at least two meals a day at the mess hall—”
“So the council can keep a leash on our schedules,” River finishes with a sigh. “And let me guess, Klarissa recommends that we start now.”
* * *
The low dinof the mess hall goes silent the instant the five of us step inside, our uniforms still soaked with sweat and sand. The long room is stunning, like the rest of the Citadel. Tall windows on three sides let in streams of sunlight, and thick oak rafters brace a peaked ceiling, giving the whole space a rustic charm. The walls are hung with colorful silk tapestries, the largest of which depicts a beautiful female with clouds of brunette curls and a harp so real, I can almost hear the ethereal music.
River’s back is straight, calm dominance radiating from every inch of his body. If I feel like a disgraced insect walking onto a stage, the prince of Slait is striding into a throne room and heading straight for the meat table.
As we walk to the food, I’m relieved to hear the voices slowly start back up.
My mouth waters in spite of itself. Thanks to Shade’s hunting, we ate well during our journey here, but the Citadel mess hall must rival that of a palace. Thick slices of juicy venison, rabbit quarters, a whole crispy pig with an apple baked into its mouth. A separate table holds plates of fruit and cheese, the fresh aromas dancing with the smoky scent of meat. “Do I just—”
River, whose plate is already filling, turns and hands the whole thing to me. “You can take whatever you like.”
“You don’t mind if I cut in, do you?” Malikai’s poisonous voice interjects, and I feel River’s body stiffen for the smallest of heartbeats before his large hand settles on my waist.
“Not at all, sir,” the prince tells the third trial, with such impeccable courtesy that I feel a shiver run down my spine. “We’ll return once you’ve made your selection.” Hand still on me, River guides me to a table where the others are already sitting, their plates nonexistent. River pulls a chair out for me and nods toward the food. “Eat, Leralynn. Malikai and his ilk will be sure to need all the food tables until the meal is over. It’s a common way in which third trials try to torment their juniors.”
I survey the calm faces around me. “You knew this would happen,” I say, nodding at the empty tabletop. “You didn’t even bother getting plates.”
Shade stretches, his lithe body lazily claiming the space around me and all the air from my lungs. “Do you imagine any of us will go hungry, cub?” he asks with a grin. “The runes may keep me from leaving the Citadel grounds, but they don’t stop game from coming in.”
My stomach growls, the scent of hot food so tempting, I all but shake with want. “We’ll wait until you hunt, then.” I push the plate away.
River pushes it right back. “Eat. I, for one, am looking forward to a fresh kill. Plus”—his voice lowers—“we can’t leave until someone eats. So either you dine like a smart being, or we’ll be reduced to grabbing scraps with our hands once the plates are cleared.”
The males keep up a steady stream of conversation, sprawling in their chairs as if every fae warrior in the room isn’t watching them. As if they’re here by choice and have graciously permitted the others to share our space. Shade drapes an arm over the back of my chair, fingers playing idly with the tip of my braid, sending shivers through me. Given the force with which Malikai is stabbing his food, I imagine the display looks as convincing to others as it would to me if I weren’t sitting close enough to Coal to see his white-knuckled fists.
It’s all for me, I realize. The males’ willingness to endure humiliations that should be hundreds of years behind them. To drop to their knees on the hard council floor and accept runes that trap them in a place they despise. My throat constricts, a sense of belonging, of fierce connection, filling my soul. I don’t know how I can ever repay the four warriors for the gift, but I will try.
River ensures that we are the last ones to leave the dining hall, chatting jovially until even Malikai gives up waiting for us to slink away.
That done, we take another long walk around the grounds before Coal growls that I’ll forget what little riding I’ve learned and takes me to the stables, where Czar and Sprite meet us with whickering welcomes. Riding turns into a long sparring lesson in a sunlit glen behind the dormitories.
