Page 179 of Promise of Darkness
My mother’s herald raises his staff and drives it into the stone at his feet. Once. Twice. Thrice. A hollow boom echoes through the stone beneath us, and then silence falls.
“Just breathe and this will be all done in a moment,” Andraste murmurs. “I know you don’t understand, but it will be done soon. It will all be done.”
As I turn toward her in confusion, the crowd draws back. Andraste withdraws with them, her face expressionless.
Suddenly, I’m alone in the center of the Hallow with the Prince of Evernight on one side of me and my mother on the other.
He steps forward, reaching for me. “Do you—”
“Enough,” snaps my mother. “We are bound to silence. Any attempt to sway proceedings will end in a forfeit.” Her smile twists. “Though I would welcome such an attempt.”
My head swivels between them.
I feel like the bone caught between a pair of fighting dogs, though I’ve no idea how I became the prize.
“Let the test begin,” says the Queen of Aska.
“Let the test begin,” says the Queen of Ravenal.
“Let the test begin,” says the Prince of Tides, though he, at least, looks sad.
“I know you don’t understand what’s going on, Princess, but this is a challenge between the Prince of Evernight and your mother,” the herald assures me with a faint, placating smile. “Please answer our questions truthfully, and this will all be done in a few minutes.”
I glance between them. I know my mother well enough to know this is not merely a test between her and the prince, but one meant for me as well.
“Very well,” I say, drawing my spine as straight as I can manage as I return the prince’s stare with one of my own.
“Do you know the prince?” my mother taunts.
I look at his face again, an uneasy sensation crawling down my spine. The “no” is on my lips, but there’s some part of me that hesitates. Perhaps there’s a look about his eyes—a desperate sort of pleading.
I glance at Andraste, but there’s little enough assistance there. Her eyes are down, locked on the ground in front of her boots, and her hand rests lightly on her sword.
The prince takes a step toward me. “Vi—”
“Speak again at your own peril,” my mother snaps.
“If you can speak, then so may I,” he returns.
“Agreed,” says the Prince of Tides, earning a scornful look from my mother.
“Agreed,” repeats the Queen of Ravenal.
The tension that fills the Hallow feels like nails down my spine.
“Curse you,” he whispers. “Look at me, Vi. Look at me.”
I can’t look away. My fingernails drive into my palms, and there’s a horrible sensation inside me, as if something’s threatening to tear its way free. Perhaps a scream, for it certainly feels that way.
The look in his eyes burns me.
He stares at me with pure belief burning in those green depths, as if he’s trying to tell me something.
“I-I don’t know,” I whisper.
I could swear I’ve never seen him before, and yet an uncomfortable sensation lingers, as if, were I to say no, I would be somehow lying.
“Could you love him?”
