Page 98 of To Wake a Kingdom

“They were miserable for twenty-one years.” My voice caught. “We were never truly happy. The curse lived with all of us. They suffered. They suffered so much.”It was the same truth I understood the day they had all died. I laid it before her, my soul naked and exposed.“I swear to you—they didn’t get away with anything.”

Mare cocked her head as if considering my words, and then she laughed. It was a dead sound, something tossed to the bottom of a pit to be buried forever. It was awful and hateful, and I knew then, with the certainty of the stones cold and hard beneath my toes, that I was lost. That nothing would ever convince her my parents had suffered enough. That I’d suffered enough. She would keep me here, a living, breathing jewel in her collection until I died at her will.

“Take her back to her cage.” She gestured to the guards, who began to haul me away. “And Princess? I’ll see you in the ring.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Andsoitwent.Night after night, they dragged me into the arena barefoot and barely clothed, starving, thirsty, and freezing. The patrons all knew me now and chanted my name.

Some were rooting for me, but most were not. They booed when it was over too quickly; they screamed in ecstasy when I was injured; they called for more blood as I slashed down these women, one by one. Princesses, just like me. Every night, I prayed it would be me who died. Every night, I prayed one of those women would murder me as I’d murdered them all.

My only consolation was the hope thishadto be over soon. I couldn’t possibly last much longer. Either through steel or starvation, something would release me from this hell.

My rewards varied from fight to fight. After the first one, my meals were far less grand. Sometimes it was scraps. Sometimes only a little more. Whatever it was, it was never enough. They healed the worst of my injuries but left me tired and aching, weak and hungry. During the day, I fell into a fitful sleep, trying to ignore the Fae that visited my cage.

The other caged women eyed me warily from behind their bars, probably wondering if I’d kill them next. My conscience weighed on me like a ceiling of sandstone. I’d been given no good choices—kill them quickly or let them burn in agony. I didn’t seek their forgiveness, nor did I expect their absolution. We were enemies, divided by lines none of us had drawn.

Mercifully, I wasn’t invited to any more of Mare’s parties. I watched as guards took away women and led them toward the palace through the maze of mirrors. It was of little comfort, but I’d have rather fought for survival than face the humiliation of that black throne room, drowning in its trophies of misery.

I lost track of the days and weeks when, one night, I was again deposited into the arena and handed my sword and my dagger. There was no question they were mine now.

The crowd was edgier than usual, more ravenous. Already they were cheering so loudly, a frenzied mania hung in the air, thick enough to form clouds in the sky. Maybe it was only me who felt it. Maybe they were as bloodthirsty as they were every night, and I was losing my tenuous foothold on reality. I was told I’d been making Mare a lot of gold with my performances.

As if this were all a game. As if it were merely a transaction. As if I gave a shit about that.

Tonight, only one door opened at the corner of the arena, and a woman almost twice my size stepped out. Dressed in polished metal armor, she looked as though she could single-handedly snap me in two. I looked down at the useless, delicate dress I wore every night. The same dress all the princesses wore, giving no one an advantage. This was a new test, then, and Mare had changed the rules of our game.

My opponent’s steps were heavy, boots thudding in the dirt. Her straight blonde hair was cropped short and her clear blue eyes stared through me. She believed she’d won this already, and I was inclined to agree. Perhaps this was my chance to end this.

Without preamble, she swung, and I ducked as her blade whistled so close I felt the breath of it on my skin. I thrust my sword, and she blocked me, our blades clanging against the din of chatter and cheers. My arms were already aching. This woman was much stronger and well-fed, and had probably slept in a proper bed last night. I wouldn’t last long.

Still, I tried.

For what it was worth, I tried anyway, remembering the lessons taught by my beloved prince in a cursed castle ballroom. But I couldn’t best her with my sword, and I couldn’t win at hand-to-hand combat. I needed another way.

She was so tall I barely came up to her chest. Stance wide, she faced me, and I took a risky gamble. As I charged for her, she smiled. I was a flea, easily flicked away. An annoyance. An irritation. I ducked and slid between her legs.

She wasn’t expecting that. Before she had a chance to recover, I jumped and launched myself onto her back. She wasn’t expecting that, either.

With my forearms locked around her throat, I squeezed her windpipe with every bit of strength I had. Dropping her weapons, she grabbed my arms, trying to pry me off. I wrapped my legs around her torso, hanging like a child off her mother. It took every reserve of strength I had, but I didn’t let go, and the crowd was losing its mind.

They loved a surprise ending. They weren’t expecting this, either.

My opponent spun in circles, trying to dislodge me, but I hung on. She clawed at my arms, drawing blood, leaving deep gouges in my skin. The walls were too low for her to slam me into them—something I’d realized only after making this desperate attempt—and it felt like fate had finally thrown me a fucking bone.

Bent at the waist, she attempted to flip me off, and she danced around the arena as I clung on like a stubborn crab. Instead of my arms, she went for my legs, clawing and scratching at them. Blood dripped off me in rivers. Next, she tried to reach for her dropped weapons, and I panicked, knowing I would be in trouble if she got a hold of them.

I squeezed harder, hoping to make her black out, and she stumbled. It was working, but I was tiring, and my leg slipped from her waist. That was all the leverage she needed. She grabbed my thigh and pulled it with all she had. My arms snapped from her neck, and she flung me halfway across the arena like a bag of bruised plums.

My dress offered no protection as I skidded against the hard dirt, skin tearing across my back and ribs. Blood pooled beneath me, creating a reddish sludge. I gasped, trying to catch my breath, pinching it like motes of dust. The crowd screamed louder. They were stomping in the stands. The wind knocked out of me, I couldn’t move. But it didn’t matter because I had lost. I groaned and waited for her to come.

She took her time, pandering to the crowd. They fed off her energy, switching sides. Fickle and entirely disloyal, they’d already abandoned me. They wanted to support a winner.

Finally, she approached and hovered over me, a smile stretching in a grim specter. With her sword pointing at my twisted heart, a peace as wide and calm as a still blue lake spread through my limbs. This pain, this wretched agony, would all be over soon. I closed my eyes, my face bent to the sky, offering myself to infinity as I waited for the end.

“Stop!” The command rang through the arena, pinging off every surface like a kernel in a steaming pot. Everything went silent as my eyes popped open. My opponent was looking away, her sword still primed above me. “This match is over!” Mare declared, followed by boos and hisses from the crowd. They’d come for blood, and she was denying them.

No. Don’t stop.