Page 103 of Immortal Origins
“You bet on me towin?” No one had ever bet for anyone to win, but simply on how well they thought they would do or how long they might last, but never towin. The nobles enjoyed a game but they didn’t enjoy throwing coins away on nothing.
“Yes, and I think my bet was very well placed.” He smiled at the plate of meat and vegetables that a servant set in front of him.
As though to save her from the interaction, the king and Casimir strolled into the hall with Imperial Guards and servants following in step behind them. Ambrose gasped when she saw Adym in line with the rest of them, who not once glanced at her as they entered, though she knew he knew she was there.
The king walked up to the three gilded thrones and sat…in the queen’s?
The entire hall fell silent, the air crackling with mixed charges of the most powerful mages in the empire while they waited in bated silence as Casimir sat in the king’s throne. Dressed in a fine red suit made of a thin dragon leather lined with silver accents on the collar and cuffs, Casimir’s light blond hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail that trailed down his back in a silky ribbon. He found Ambrose’s gaze immediately and gave her a depraved grin. She hadn’t seen him since they left for the forest and the look in his eye was anything but subtle as he raised a goblet into the air.
Fucking toying with me.Ambrose pressed her fingers into her corset and breathed a little easier when they found the small golden ring tucked away.You don’t own me,she thought, and though she knew he couldn’t hear her, his eyes flared with excitement.
“Ladies and gentleman, lords and ladies,” Casimir said over the hushed whispers. “Welcome to another year of the Champion’s Tournament, where we’ll see if any of this year’s prospects have what it takes to become a Champion and attempt the Immortal Trials. Competing for the highest honor in the empire, forty-two—”So that means more than a few were missing from the lineup“—of the strongest the realm has to offer will fight for a chance to live like one of us in the kingdom of the gods.” He ran his eyes over the crowd but Ambrose could still feel him watching her. “I know many of you have had a long journey, so please, sit, eat, drink, and celebrate as we bid these brave souls one last night as Trial Champions.” The crowd cheered and he waited patiently for them to finish. “Welcome to the Champion’s Ball.”
Chapter 39
The ball was certainly anything but tame as beings of all kinds dug into the plates of food Ms. Asquith had spent all week preparing. Eating up every bite of roast meat, breads, ales and wines. Desserts disappeared off of trays as servants ran between tables.
Ambrose nursed her own goblet of strawberry wine, thankful the King of Nethyr had turned his attention to scold a servant for failing to refill his goblet in time. The fae had red hair and a short build that made him look far younger than he actually was, the crest of Sepikara pinned to his chest as his face flushed and he ran away to refill his decanter. Ambrose was sure the King of Sepikara wouldn’t take too kindly to another royal scolding one of his servants, but it wasn’t as though he didn’t have the authority. When she glanced over, the tundra king was otherwise immersed in a conversation of his own with a Trial Champion that Ambrose could only assume was Sepikara’s favorite.
Nobles drank and danced in the center, letting the music take all their inhibitions away as the musicians stiffly played without stopping, and Ambrose was left to think of the man she’d met in the markets and the soulful melody he’d played. Casimir watched from his stolen throne, meeting Ambrose’s watchful eye whenever he had the chance. Something in his smile was more sinister than her previous encounters with him—if that was even possible. She did her best to avoid making eye contact with him and instead did everything she could to catch Adym’s attention from behind him, but he refused to look at her.
Was he still mad?
Casimir lifted the ban of servants talking to her days ago and in all that time, Adym hadn’t come to see her once.
She did her best to hide her disappointment when Akadian never joined them. His throne next to the king’s completely empty of its owner. Ernaline pranced from table to table, refilling goblets and plates, dodging hands that reached out at her, at the behest of unsatisfied royalty. Years of serving displayed as she expertly moved throughout the intoxicated crowd. Every once in a while she would pass by Ambrose, offering her hushed words of encouragement before she’d quickly move along. With each round she made, her love for her best friend grew. Akadian might’ve been missing, but she wasn’t alone. Lily sat next to her, back straight as she watched the crowd the way a true warrior would, hand flexing over her dagger as her eyes never left the royals, and Magnus even came to find her to give her a squeeze on her shoulder and tell her good luck.
No matter what, she wasn’t alone.
Desperate for a breath of fresh air, Ambrose excused herself from the table, much to the protests of Jovian and worried looks from Lily. She made her way out into the open corridor and leaned against one of the glassless windows, allowing the cool evening breeze to wash over her as it kissed her cheeks. When she closed her eyes and listened closely, it was as though the wind sang an ancient song to her that danced in her veins. The ground pulsed and she could see out into the night beyond the blankness of the horizon and the trees that lined the walls of the city and the way they spoke to her. Even the moon called down to her and she could feel the waves on the far-off coast to the south and the rhythm in which they danced together. Her body hummed in response to it. She stood like that, frozen in that precious moment.
“Are you alright?”
Ambrose sucked in a breath and turned quickly from the window. “Inanna! You startled me.”
The Oracle was draped in her usual black robes and hood, crimson peaking out from beneath it as she pulled the veil from her face. Her raven-like hair fell like a waterfall down her chest, framing her porcelain features.Her cheeks rosy in the cool evening air as her brows pulled together in worry. “How are you?”
“I’m not really sure how to answer that question,” Ambrose sighed.
The Oracle stared out into the dark, her features set into a sad, distant look. “I’m sorry I didn’t come see you sooner. I’ve been called into service more than usual lately. There’s a disruption in the kingdoms that has most of the royalty on edge.”
Before Ambrose could stop herself she asked, “Is that the same disturbance in Damayaria?”
“I can’t speak on that,” the Oracle said softly.
Ambrose followed her gaze out the window and propped her elbows on the stone windowsill. “You look tired.”
The Oracle gave her a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Her cheeks were slightly sunken in, making her already pale face appear even paler, with dark rings under her violet eyes that almost matched the color of her hair. Did the king know his daughter looked so worn down? “All the royals have been keeping their Oracles close in hopes that one of us will produce a new prophecy.”
Odd.
The royals always kept the Oracles in the palaces in case one of them were to produce a new prophecy, but they didn’t usually try to pry one out. What could be so disruptiveallthe royals would be on edge?
“Have there been any?” Ambrose leaned her full body against the window frame, letting the cool stone ease the warmth under her skin.
“No, and they haven’t seemed too satisfied with that.” Inanna’s expression darkened. “They’re keeping us close and I don’t know why. It bothers me. I’ve been thinking about you ever since your trial. Something about it puzzles me and I can’t seem to fit the pieces together.”
“That seems to be a running theme around here,” Ambrose tried to joke, but the princess shook her head. “I’m sorry if I worried you.”
