Kingdom's Vice Series: Journey to Alleria ( #1 2014) #Wattys2015

Chapter Seven

After a while, I can’t bear to watch anymore. Rhewieen has called many commands now, all of them in Olak Tongue, while Faeore stayed silent. She didn’t even moan, not once. It’s as if they’re in a dance of death, where only one will go home with a crown of gems, their strength to go down in the tales and legends of old. I already know who the winner is, and I suspect everyone else does too. Rhewieen’s parents already look resigned to her defeat. Her mother is sobbing miserably in the arms of her husband. Faeore knocks her helmet clean off and leaves her blunt sword hovering over Rhewieen’s chest. She then slips it under her knee and trips her. Rhewieen falls on her back and coughs on impact.

Faeore removes her blindfold and smiles down at her opponent. She drops the sword and extends a hand to help her up. Sad but grateful, young Rhewieen accepts her hand and joins Faeore at the marquee, where their scores are tallied. The announcer names Faeore the champion.

The King applauds her proudly from where we stand and she comes to meet us. She falls into her father’s arms and giggles happily.

‘I did it, Father! I did it!’

He tightens his grip on her and swings her around in his arms, laughing. He sets her down and touches her cheek. ‘I never doubted you, Faeore.’ He tells her tenderly, ‘Your mother would be so proud of you.’

She smiles, a slither of sadness poisoning it, but only for a moment. She looks to me and then to her father, her eyes begging the question. Uncle steps to the side and gestures to me. ‘Faeore,’ he says, ‘This is your cousin, Skaya.’

Her smile fades. ‘An Ivorian,’ she spits.

The King sighs, ‘Come now, Faeore. Where are your manners?’

‘I have none for traitors,’ she hisses spitefully, her eyes narrowing on my gown. ‘The white doesn’t suit her. Her face makes it dull.’

Uncle looks to me apologetically. “I’m sorry. Faeore is not accustomed to foreign guests, even if they are her kin.’ He snaps at her, his eyes suddenly cold and full of anger.

Faeore lowers her eyes in shame and attempts to speak. ‘Forgive me, Father. I—’

‘—We will discuss this later,’ he says firmly, waving her away to join the other winners in the Winner’s Circle. She leaves silently.

He looks to me again. ‘You have seen but a taste of the Feast, Skaya.’ He says. ‘There is more to come, of course. You and Alec will be selected to take part in a duel in the morning,’

‘What?’

He pats my shoulder. ‘As is tradition. Any kin of mine is subjected to the same treatment as any other Allerian.’

‘And Alec?’

He sighs and straightens his collar. ‘A friend of yours, for the time being, is a guest in my hall.’ He winks. ‘You will practice tonight. Give us a good show tomorrow.’ He kisses my forehead and leaves me standing there under the shade of a tree.

Alec is then beside me, chuckling. ‘Good match,’ he says, ‘I was betting on the pretty one.’

‘Glad you enjoyed it,’ I reply in a neutral tone.

He smiles. ‘Why’s that?’

I turn to him and grip his shoulders and shake him. ‘Because tomorrow, we will be in that arena.’

His eyes widen and his mouth falls open, but no words escape him.