I hummed, annoyed that the creaking of my bed had interrupted my concentration for the fifth time in the past hour.
A frustrated grunt made my nostrils flare wide as I jumped out of bed. The swaying was too distracting; the sheets were too warm. The floor hadn't proven any better the past two days, but my options were limited.
I slumped down onto the shaggy carpet in the middle of the room, crossing my legs and taking a deep breath. Beads of sweat already coated the line of my brow, exhaustion drawing clear lines across my face. I was tired, but I couldn't give up yet. The sun still painted faint lines on the horizon; I had more time.
My hand trembled as I lifted it, bringing the tuning fork to level with my eyes. The tines shimmered in the colorful swirls of the sundown seeping through my windows; the metal felt cold against my fingers, its base stabbing my damp palm. Pain was good; pain was a path for me to focus on.
I spent a few moments settling into my new position, shutting out the distracting sounds around me. I held my breath, but it wasn't enough. The steady beat of my heart was louder than a storm against a house of glass, my pulse more deafening than a roaring machine.
Black spots started dancing before my eyes again, and I released my breath to avoid passing out for the third time.
Nothing. Not even the slightest movement between the tines—not even the faintest melody. Then—as if the spirits were playing a cruel joke on me—my stomach growled, finally filling the room with some tune.
Dinner had ended almost an hour ago, and I'd foolishly missed it because I'd been so focused on the tuning fork. I hadn't eaten much during Lunch either, which seemed to be catching up with me now.
"Shut up," I muttered when my rumbling midsection complained again. I squeezed my eyes together to dismiss the persistent hunger when a chair fell over.
My eyes flung open, and when I twisted my head to look for the source of the noise, I found Faye standing rigidly by my vanity table, a bowl of steaming soup in one hand and a golden package in the other.
"Faye," I whispered, startling her awake from her paralysis.
She clumsily placed the soup on the table, spilling precious drops in the process. "Cursed blood!" she hissed, pulling her hand back as if she'd burned herself.
It had been days—maybe weeks—since I'd last caught as much as a glimpse of her. She'd started tracking my schedule and only appeared to manage her duties while I was engaged. So, this may be my last chance to settle this obscene dispute and apologize.
"Faye, wait," I said when she placed the package beside the bowl and raced toward the exit. "We have to talk."
She didn't even look at me as if the faintest glance in my direction would set her on fire. I knew those fears all too well, and I couldn't bear to see them twisting Faye's face because of me.
"Faye, please!" I shouted. She still didn't turn around, and my famished body and groggy head would make it impossible for me to reach her in time. I only had one option left.
A cool, breeze-like sensation shot through my veins. The door slammed shut right before Faye's freckled face, pushed by a sudden gust obeying my shaken command.
"Please." I wrapped my hand around Faye's wrist, desperate to make her look at me, but my heart only plunged through the floor when she did.
Fear, raw and cold, glazed her green eyes. My eyes seared at the sight, my soul shattering into a million pieces.
"Spirits, Faye. I'm so sorry." I fell to my knees, still clenching her wrist in my hand, scared to let go. "I—I never meant to scare you. I never, ever intended to hurt you. Please, Faye. I am so sorry."
Faye didn't say anything, the silence icy. The cage around my heart grew smaller until it barely fit behind the bars. I'd lose her forever.
"Tell me, Will. What really happened that day?"
I snapped my head upward, lightning shooting through my neck when I met her eyes. The fear had melted away, replaced by traces of distress and concern.
"What?" I whispered.
Faye fell to her knees before me, grabbing my other hand from my lap. "I, too, have missed your company, Will, more than anything, but you scared me that day. Not just with your powers, but I've never seen you so... so upset—angry even. Tell me. What happened that caused such a reaction from you?"
I released her wrist to wipe the tears in my sleeve. "I-I don't know."
Lies. I knew exactly what had poisoned my mood. I just couldn't tell Faye. I couldn't tell anyone.
A hum started playing in my head. It was faint at first, like a murmur creeping along the boundaries of my aware mind. I hated how I couldn't tell anyone—least of all Faye.
"That's not true," she said, surprising me. "You'd been acting strange all day. Was it the date with Prince Atlas?"
"N-no. Not entirely." I needed to steer around this conversation. She deserved the truth, undoubtedly, but I couldn't spin anything close to that with this vexing humming drifting down my spine.
"Did something happen the day before?"
I shook my head, and the world started spinning. The humming intensified.
"Did Miss Harrington or any of the other suitors say something?"
My hands began shaking, and each breath burned my throat like I'd swallowed the sun. Something was wrong. "Hold on, Faye."
I felt my powers stirring despite not being summoned. However, it felt different. My blood didn't rush through my veins like a wind warning a storm. Instead, my entire body hummed, each cell buzzing and vibrating like bees in the summer heat.
"Please, Will. I want to understand."
I needed it to stop, and Faye needed to quit talking so I could focus. "Shut up," I muttered, squeezing my eyes shut to block out her voice.
"You have to give me something."
The distressing sensation kept intensifying until it became too much. "Shut up, Faye!"
Her voice abruptly faded away, and the pressure inside me vanished. Relief washed over me as my mind cleared. "I-I'm sorry," I said, slowly regaining control of my trembling limbs. "I didn't mean to yell; I just—"
I bit my tongue when I saw Faye's face stripped of color, her eyes bloodshot with terror. She desperately wrapped her fingers around her neck, panic leaping from her brow when no sound spilled from her lips as she opened her mouth.
"Spirits," I gasped when I realized that the upsetting sensation from before had not been a storm brewing within me. It had been thunder, threatening to condemn the world around us into absolute silence. Fortunately, I was far from strong enough for that.
I hadn't wielded the air; I'd manipulated the particles, forcing them to freeze instead of accepting and passing their neighbor's message. I wasn't even sure if Faye could hear me, but she, fortunately, didn't appear to struggle with breathing.
"By the ancient spirits, Faye!" I exclaimed. Horror clawed at my back. I was disgustingly proud to have found the source of my sound-manipulating powers, but I didn't have the foggiest idea of how to undo what I'd done.
My mind clouded, my thoughts shredding before they even formed.
I nearly choked in a gasp as Faye clapped her palms together right in front of my face. She pointed at her throat with an agitated expression, her eyes urging me to fix my mess. "I know," I said, massaging my temples. "I'm sorry; just give me a moment to figure it out."
Patience had, unfortunately, never been one of Faye's stronger suits. She kept poking me, causing my already spiking nerves to fray.
"Please, Faye," I sighed, gritting my teeth. "I just need a minute to think—to figure out how—"
It didn't matter what I said. Faye still believed I was a highly trained Iridis from the Storm Academy. She probably also thought that I'd purposely cursed her and that it would be a breeze for me to undo.
Anger lapped within me, like the famed dragon's breath scorching lands with one destructive whisper. I couldn't contain it, and the words spilled from my lips before I could stop them.
"I don't know how to undo it, Faye!" I furiously tossed the tuning fork across the room and violently brushed my stiff fingers through my tangled hair. "I was never part of that cursed academy! I'm only here because I failed to control my powers when I acted to protect my mother against that savage man trying to burn her. The king was coincidentally there and forced me to participate in the Crown Trials—to hide among people I have no business being among, pretending to compete for a crown that I have no interest in inheriting, and fighting every day to master these wretched abilities so I can return to my family!"
The words kept pouring from my lips like rain from the weeping sky; the walls I'd spent months building crumbled in the torrent, disintegrating to dust. Burdening Faye with these secrets was wrong on so many levels, but I couldn't stop it.
"My world is burning, Faye, and every fire I extinguish only seems to spark three new flames that are slowly devouring my soul," I whispered, crouching to hide my glazed eyes. "I can barely wield the air. Master Arthur introduced me to sound only a few days ago, and I haven't the faintest idea what I'm doing. Nothing I try seems to work."
Scorching tears numbed my cheeks as the salty water fled my eyes, trailing down my flustered face. My throat was closing, making it hard to breathe.
I winced when a hand gently squeezed my shoulder. Faye stared back at me; the raging lightning from before had faded into embers of compassion. She placed a hand on her chest—right above the heart—and mouthed: "I'm sorry."
She moved her hand from my shoulder to the clenched fist in my lap. I smiled at her through my tears. "So," I said, wiping my damp cheek on my shoulder. "I was never a real suitor. I've never been out to capture the crown prince's heart or hand. Alia has known that since Arawn first announced my candidacy."
I scoffed at the thought. "She knows I'm not here to compete with her, yet she treats me like her greatest rival. She despised me long before we were introduced, and I—"
Faye pressed her finger against my lips, soundlessly advising me to shut up. She helped me up and guided us to the bed, where we could sit comfortably across from each other.
"Breathe," she mouthed, raising and lowering her hands in a steady rhythm.
I followed the rhythm, inhaling deeply through my nose and exhaling through my mouth. My nerves slowly calmed, and my mind cleared.
Faye gestured to her throat again and squeezed my hand.
I groaned and tossed my head back. "I just told you I have no idea how to fix your voice." I squeezed her hand back apologetically. "Maybe we can ask Calla if she's in her room. If not, then I'm sure Master Arthur will know what to do."
Faye furrowed her brow, shook her head, and pressed her palm against my chest.
"Faye," I mumbled, unsure why she kept insisting I could do it. "I can't. I just—"
She shook her head harder and applied more pressure before mouthing the word 'Try.' I could almost hear her shouting it.
Her mind was fixed. We wouldn't leave this room until I'd proved how undisciplined powers really were.
"Fine," I muttered. "But don't blame me if I do something unintended."
Faye rolled her eyes and shot me a crooked smile that made me chuckle.
I took another deep breath and closed my eyes to search for the power that had troubled me before.
At first, I only felt the wind caress my skin, the familiar rush of air surging through my veins, but that wasn't the feeling I sought. So I dived deeper, delving past the places where I felt safe and into unexplored territories until the hairs on my body rose.
The rushing wind inside me settled, replaced by a humming that made my heart pulse with a new rhythm as if trying to resonate with the frequencies surrounding me.
This feeling had to be what I'd searched for these past days—the source of my powers to manipulate sound. However, I may have figured out how to summon the energy I needed, but I still didn't know how to command it.
The fear of messing up and making the entire situation worse made my brow furrow and my hand curl into a distraught fist. Once again, I felt a warm hand squeezed my thigh.
I didn't need to open my eyes. I knew exactly what Faye wanted me to understand. She believed I could do it—however foolish that may be of her. And if I'd learned anything these past months, it was that my powers only manifested properly whenever I stopped thinking too hard and let go of the fears holding me back.
So, I stopped forcing it, allowing the energy to act as it pleased. I was ready to listen.
"Will."
That was Faye's voice. It wasn't loud, but I could hear her. I exhaled, relishing the tension leaving my shoulders and neck. I'd done it.
"Will, does Miss Harrington know of this story?" she asked quietly.
I snorted. "I believe Miss Pride gave them the information they needed to understand my situation: I've kept my powers a secret for the past twelve years to avoid the academies. They know that the king and the crown prince were there when I lost control of my powers and that they were the ones who—"
"But does she know? About the fire?"
I looked at Faye, wide-eyed as my tongue tied into knots. "I—" I cleared my throat and lowered my eyes. "No... No one really does, except those who happened to be inside the room. Most of them likely think my fake participation in this competition is a spirit-blessed delight—that I couldn't have been more fortunate—but others don't believe it was an accident." I paused. "Don't get me wrong. I am grateful to have been assigned a master as competent as Master Arthur, but my family..."
A tear rolled down my cheek as my family's faces flashed past my eyes. Another followed as I saw Mom's bruised arm. "They're—They're doing so much better than before, but my mom... She's—" Cursed bones... I couldn't keep it together. "It's not right that I'm here, indulging in this nauseating luxury when I have earned no such right. Everything about me is a lie, and I hate it."
Faye pulled me into her embrace, folding her arms around me. "Hey," she whispered, brushing my hair. "You don't have to say anything else. I get it. I get it."
"I'm sorry, Faye." I sniffled, digging my fingers into her shirt. "I wanted to tell you, but my contract forbids me to discuss these lies with anyone apart from a very select few. Not even Piper knows the full truth. Not even Caiden knows everything that is going on."
Faye's sobs briefly burst into a strangled laugh. I looked up and saw her pressing her lips together as if knowing her reaction wasn't appropriate.
"What?" I pulled away to wipe my nose.
"Sorry," she muttered. "I didn't mean it like that. It's just—I've never noticed that you refer to Crown Prince Atlas by his chosen name."
My veins froze to ice. Cursed blood... I'd otherwise been so careful not to stray from the formal conduct around others.
"I'm not accusing you of anything, Will," Faye quickly added, chuckling at the terror written across my face. "I've just happened to notice that Miss Harrington refers to him by the same name whenever she believes they are alone."
My heart stopped, and my face turned ashen. I'd never heard anyone, but Art and I refer to him by his chosen name. Could he and Alia already be on such intimate terms? He had already referred to her by her given name instead of her family name the last time we'd talked, hadn't he?
"Stop it, Will," Faye suddenly said, as if my troubled heart lay exposed to her attentive gaze. "I know what you're thinking, but I am not sure their relationship extends as far as Miss Harrington would like everyone to believe."
I straightened my back, curious to hear what words would follow.
"Miss Harrington is not fully aware of the circumstances surrounding your participation in the Crown Trials, correct?" I bobbed my head, reluctant, knowing Faye was right. "So, she may be drawing conclusions that paint your intentions with an unfavorably dishonest brush."
I guessed so. It wasn't necessarily unreasonable to make that conclusion, given the potentially ambiguous information Evelyn had provided them.
"Have you considered that you may not know Miss Harrington's entire story either and that your brush is spoiled by unjust conclusions, too?"
I almost choked on the heavy air that had settled around us. "Like what?" I said, coughing. "Alia has pretty much been living life at its fullest, burning anyone who dares to even smile at her wrong. I doubt little Miss Perfect has secrets that could make me view her differently after everything she's—"
I snapped my mouth shut when I noticed Faye's lowered brow and flaring nostrils. "I'm not trying to excuse Miss Harrington's behavior. No matter her cause, treating others like that is wrong, but—" She leaned forward, massaging her hands as if something bugged her. "It's really not my place to say, but if it can solve this... problem between you, I— I guess I'll tell you what I know." She inhaled. "Miss Harrington knew Prince Atlas prior to the Trials."
I stiffened, my mind shattering like brittle glass under the crushing weight of enlightenment.
"Miss Harrington allegedly spent much of her childhood in this castle due to her father's ties to the crown. So, I don't think Miss Harrington is here to compete for the crown; otherwise, why wouldn't she have exploited her childhood friendship with the crown prince to discourage the other suitors? North told me that Miss Harrington's parents have unbelievable expectations for her, and the crown is probably no different.
"Again, I'm not saying you should forgive her imperious behavior, but given everything I know and have been told, I think Miss Harrington may just be trying to look out for her friend—especially if she fears your intentions may not be as pure as you claim. Maybe she hopes to intimidate you into staying away from him or prevent you from gaining any advantage that could endanger him."
Faye grabbed my hand, her face stern with bleeding determination. "I think you should confront her. Find an appropriate moment to pull her aside and ask her. Or the pointless war between the two of you may never see the end."