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Twenty minutes later, I walked into the Challenge Hall. I didn’t bother to change, even though blood from my ear had dripped onto my jacket. Instead, I’d spent the time I had, tending to my wound and making sure to make Jigsaw comfortable, in case Loredana pulled a Knight chess piece out of the Challenge Vessel.
My ear hurt like hell. For such a small injury, it felt as if I’d had a hole drilled on the side of my head. It burned and tingled, and the piece of cloth I’d wrapped around my head to try to staunch the bleeding was already soaked.
Both Quadrants were present. Knight Arcos’s Quadrant sitting on the raised gallery to my right, and my own Quadrant sitting on the left.
My eyes immediately darted toward the dais in the back of the room. It was empty. I didn’t know if I should be worried or relieved that the King wasn’t present. I feared what wicked games he might devise if he came, but also realized that his absence stole the validity of my claim that he was interested in my advancement through the ranks.
Knight Traian made the necessary announcements giving my name and Loredana’s and stating the ranks at play.
If I won, I would become First Pawn and Loredana would be demoted to Fourth Pawn... if I pardoned her, that was.
As we stood there, I held her gaze, wondering again if her request was nothing but a trick. Maybe she simply intended me to lower my guard, so she would find it easier to beat me. Maybe she was actually afraid for her life and saw the prospect of losing her rank more advantageous than death. Because if I was actually a favorite of the King, she would stand no chance against that. No one would.
After the announcement was made, Knight Traian invited Loredana to dip her hand in the Challenge Vessel and pull out a piece.
She took a step forward, lifting her hand. As her hand disappeared into the vase, the door to the hall opened and closed. Everyone’s attention was drawn to the door, but there was no one there.
“Proceed,” an ancient voice called from the dais.
Heads swiveled. Clothes rustled.
The King had entered the room and was now sitting on his throne. My brother perched on his knee, an expression of utter fear on his little face.
My blood froze as Timotei's gaze darted across the room and found mine. Immediately, his face twisted further in fear, and he began to cry.
“Don’t, pet,” the King said in his ear, brushing Timotei’s blond hair off his forehead. “Aren’t you happy to see your brother? I thought you would like it.”
Timotei stretched his arms in my direction, attempting to hop off the King’s knee. “Nyro,” he sobbed.
Lazily, the King laid a hand on Timotei’s shoulder, keeping him in place. I trembled on the spot, anger roiling in my chest. I took a deep breath. An angry spectacle... that’s what Maximus wanted. I couldn’t keep falling in his trap, but I had to give him something, didn’t I? But what?
I turned to Loredana, my lips stretching into a tiny, satisfied smile. She glanced away, pretending to focus on the Challenge Vessel, though the worry on her face was impossible to miss.
“Please, continue,” the Black King said. “I’m just another spectator.”
Timotei continued to sob, while Maximus petted him, ruffling his hair with every pass.
“Hello, Timotei,” I said in a neutral voice.
Knight Traian took a step forward, his mouth opening to protest at my talking out of turn, except he didn’t say anything. Instead, he peered hesitantly toward the King, who wore an amused smile.
On the other side of the hall, Knight Arcos and his Quadrant remained immobile as if trying to avoid being noticed by King Maximus, lest they suffer a similar fate as Traian’s Quadrant.
“You needn’t cry, brother.” I continued. “I will be First Pawn after today.”
“The hell yeh will,” Rook Sanda said in a tone barely loud enough to be heard, his pretend accent gone.
“Quiet, Sanda!” Knight Traian ordered.
“Are you taking sides, Rook?” the King said. “That’s unseemly.”
Maybe in a way, I was the King’s favorite, even if the only reason was that my situation alleviated his boredom. Well, I couldn’t disappoint him, could I?
“Yes, quite so,” I said. “Rook Sanda thinks himself a bully, which makes him a terrible, terrible Rook.”
Sanda shot to his feet, teeth bared, fists clenched in front of him. “How dare yeh? Yeh know nothin’. A few months here and yeh already think yehrself betta.”
“I don’t think myself better,” I spat back. “I am. Just listen to yourself. You can’t even speak properly.”
Rook Sanda’s face changed colors like a horseshoe in the forge, going from normal to bright red in a matter of seconds. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped abruptly, his eyes lowering, his broad face filling with confusion.
I followed his gaze to find Timotei, standing by my side. My heart stammered at seeing him there, small and fragile, in the middle of all these beasts. My first instinct was to pick him up and run to safety. The Challenge Hall was a slaughterhouse, and I didn’t want him here—not when death loomed like a garland over our heads.
It took all my strength of will to act nonchalantly. I turned to him, stretching my lips into a smile.
“Timotei,” I said, simply resting a hand on his shoulder when what I wanted to do was wrap him in my arms and never let him go.
His clear blue eyes stared up at me from a too-pale face, void of the rosiness it used to possess after he’d been playing outside with his friends.
I looked at the King, wondering why he’d let him go, his precious Trove. Did he not fear what the Knights or Rooks might do for a taste of his blood? Even now, they were watching him as if he were a side of roast beef and not an innocent, little boy.
“What is it, brother?” I said, flicking his nose playfully. I despised myself for my traitorous thoughts, but I found myself wishing he would go back to the dais, where he could be safe from whatever was about to go down.
Timotei took my hand and yanked my arm is his direction. I staggered down to one knee until I was face to face with my brother. Tears wavered in his eyes, giving them a strange silver tint. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to my cheek, then pulled away and ran back to the dais to sit cross-legged at the foot of the throne as if he, indeed, were nothing but a pet, a little dog that heeled to his master.
I got back to my feet slowly, my gaze locked with the King’s. Such cruelty. Such mockery of our feelings and lives. Was he so empty that he found amusement in suffering? Was that the only emotion that could reach him and make him remember what it was to be alive?
Sanda sat back down, his gaze fixed on a spot on the far wall. I could only imagine what he was thinking. The King had let his favorite pet come kiss me. Any doubts the Rook had harbored were surely gone after that little display.
The King did play favorites, even I was starting to believe it.
I turned to Loredana. She was standing by the Challenge Vessel, her shoulders curved in, her head lowered, as if she were trying to make herself invisible. She was clenching a small box in her right hand, the piece that determined the type of challenge we would fight.
For Pawns, there were three boxes inside the vessel: a Pawn, a Rook, and a Knight. The Pawn indicated a sword fight. The Rook: a physical confrontation. And the Knight: a horse race.
Loredana was good at all of them, good enough to beat me. Yet, she was willing to lose for a pardon. Now, more than ever, it seemed.
“So what’s it going to be, Loredana?” I asked.
Her jaw twitched, surely in surprise. It was Knight Traian’s job to conduct the challenge, but he seemed distracted, lost in his own thoughts. Was he questioning the stability of his position, now?
I allowed my gaze to rove around. Knight Arcos and Rook Datcu had a similar look in their eyes.
Why was Maximus trying to undermine the members of his Board? I frowned, considering. A thousand thoughts formed in the back of my mind, trying to push themselves to the forefront. I held them back, however. I had no time to ponder this question at the moment—not when Loredana opened the box and pulled out a Pawn chess piece, and she wasted no time to draw her sword and lunge at me.