A Wicked Game [The Crown Saga II] (Under Editing)

Cold Rejection

I slammed the door shut behind me as I walked out of my chamber, frustrated and upset.

Art had declared me unfit to wield his training weapon. He'd told me that I still lacked the control required to master my destined weapons despite the countless weeks and hours I'd spent working tirelessly to tame the cursed thing.

I needed to blow off some steam, and the Battle Arena was the only place I could do that without holding back.

Most of the suitors had gathered in the Parlor, and cameras were still not allowed to be installed along the halls to our rooms, so instead of being discreet about the illusion's existence like normal, I let the aggravation building inside me lead me.

I tossed the blue towel across my shoulder and slammed my crystal against the painting concealing the entrance to the secret tunnels. I twisted the painting and waited until I heard the familiar click before stepping through the illusion.

Torches lit up as the tunnel detected my presence, and the light followed me the entire way to the other exit in the dressing room.

I'd been terrified to walk here alone the first few times after the king had granted me access. It reminded me of the horrors I went through during the first trial, but now it barely touched me. Especially today, when my wrath appeared to overshadow any form of anxiety that had previously manifested itself in me.

The air still smelled of steam and clung uncomfortably to my skin. Our battle lecture with Master Cadoc had ended several hours ago, so it struck me as odd.

To be sure I was alone, I peeked into the shower space, but it was empty. There wasn't a single drop of water anywhere in the entire room.

This place couldn't possibly be the source of the damp air. Maybe another dressing room had recently been used, or the Battle Arena had been cleaned.

I sighed, frustrated and slightly annoyed. I didn't have time to investigate this matter if I wanted to practice tonight.

A grunt escaped me as I tossed the bag with my warrior uniform on the bench. Next, I unwrapped the robe that had kept me warm through the tunnel. I cursed my rigid body as I struggled to undo the numerous buttons on my nightgown, spanning from my neck to the lower part of my back.

Flexibility was another subject that Art still lectured me strenuously on. I could almost force my rigid limbs into a decent split, but that didn't necessarily imply that my upper body automatically followed suit. My back was still as stiff as a board.

Finally, I managed to undo the button that allowed me to pull the wretched thing over my head.

I tossed it to the ground, tempted to stomp the nightgown flat. "Could this day get any worse?" I muttered past my tensed lips as I unzipped the bag to find my clothes instead.

Perhaps the ground would split open beneath me, making way for the flames of Heliac's boiling core to reach up and devour me. It certainly wouldn't surprise me. I could probably need more than two hands to count the reasons I may have angered the spirits.

A loud bang behind me made my spine rigid. A bang from a door closing—a door I hadn't opened.

My heart drummed violently in my chest as I forced myself to turn around. Goosebumps rained on my back when I caught Caiden staring at me, wide-eyed and stunned.

It was evident he'd been training. Sweat covered his body, making his exposed muscles shimmer in the light.

Blood surged to my face, turning my skin paler than the summer sky. "Spirits, Caiden!" I exclaimed, desperately reaching for my towel to cover my exposed body. Thank the spirits that I hadn't removed my underwear yet.