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I’m still in shock, still seeing Katherine burnt alive right in front of me. There is nothing but ash and death in this world, and I’m trapped here competing to be the queen. We go back into our room to see another kind of hell waiting on our beds. Dresses. Ball gowns, to be exact. There is a note with our names clearly marked on the hangers, along with another note.
“Tonight, be ready after dinner.”
“Wow, how pretty!” Arty sighs. “I love dressing up!”
My dress is all black, sparkling like it’s made of a thousand stars. It’s tight, low cut, and there’s little fabric pieces hanging off the arms. Arty’s is different. Hers is a silver princess-style dress, while Hope’s is the colour of water, almost see-through and silky. Livia’s is a suit dress in a dark brown shade with vines laced into the fabric.
“Oh, I get it. Each dress is for a court. You’re fire, I’m clearly air.”
I chuck the dress on the floor and climb into bed, still smelling ash and fire. Will I ever be able to close my eyes without seeing them burning?
CHAPTER 5
Arty finishes tying the laces at my back for me, and my dress is so blooming tight that I can barely breathe in this thing. This is why I don’t wear dresses, and leggings are the best inventions ever. I wasn’t going to get ready at all, but Arty reminded me of Desmerda. The thought of punishments from Desmerda makes me put the dress on. On the back of the note was a warning of punishments if we do not comply and get dressed after dinner. I didn’t go to dinner. The thought of eating after today made me feel sick.
“It looks like we’re the only group that got offered dresses,” Arty tells me as she touches up her hair that is braided down her back. “I went and peeped in all the other rooms, and it’s just us. Maybe we are special?”
“I hope not,” I mutter, looking at Livia, who is reading a book on her bed, already dressed. Hope is still in the bathroom, hogging it like she has done all day. Hope and Livia came back a few hours after the test, and I asked Livia how her friend was, who apparently is fully healed thanks to the Water Court healers. Hope looked as smug as anything as she grabbed the dress, got dressed, and went to dinner. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive her for what she did. She killed Katherine. She probably killed others there, too. Hope comes out of the bathroom, her hair curled perfectly, and she meets my eyes.
“Are you ever going to stop glaring at me?” she questions, tilting her head to the side.
“You killed her,” I snap, stepping up into her face. Her hand flickers to her thigh, where I can see the outline of some kind of weapon.
“Hey, let’s calm down. Why don’t we try—” Arty tries to squeeze between us, but I don’t let her and neither does Hope.
Hope laughs, looking me up and down. “You’re so innocent, like Bambi. Have you not realised you’re not on Earth anymore? Everyone here has to die, and I will make sure they do because they are in my way. I want the throne, and anyone in my path will die. I don’t care if you are feeling hurt or upset. I don’t care which three of the idiots here are left standing at the end, but I will be one of the final four. I have a plan, and I’m determined to get what I want.”
“So, you’re just going to kill everybody that’s in your way, huh?” I question. “Are you going to try to kill me?”
She smirks. “Do you think you could stop me? I’ve trained for this my entire life, and you’ve stumbled here because of your blood alone. Killing you would be easy.”
I curl my fist. I want to punch her. I want to punch her so, so fucking bad. I don’t think there are rules around here, and as the thought drifts across my mind, an amused voice makes me jump. “If you’re going to fight, I’d recommend taking the dresses off. They were expensive.”
I look over to see all four of the kings watching us, Arden in front of them, leaning on the door, his thick arms crossed, and he’s looking far too amused. I want to punch him more than Hope. But dammit, they are impressively built and very intimidating as they all look at me.
They’re all wearing suits that seem like they’re more from our world than theirs, but different coloured cloaks hang off their backs, clipped to their shoulders by silver dragons. Their crowns match their cloaks, but each the same shape. Arden’s is a dark red, Lysander’s is a deep ocean blue. Grayson has a dark green crown, and Emrys has a crown that’s so clear, silver almost, but I can see through it. Emrys and Grayson stay at the back, Grayson frowning at me and Emrys smiling. Lysander watches me, looking me up and down in a way that makes my cheeks burn, before turning his eyes to Hope. She all but runs over to him, flinging her arms around his neck, and they passionately kiss. I’m surprised enough to turn away. So not only is she going to kill her way to the top, but she’s also fucking her way up too. I don’t know why it annoys me, but it really, really does. Arty and I share a look that says everything.
Arden walks straight up to me, crowding my space with the sort of smug smile I want to punch off his very handsome face. God, why do they have to look like this? They are literal gods. “I see my dress choice was spot on.”
“You picked this dress?” I question. “Well, at least I know who’s got bad taste.”
Arden glares at me, looking royally pissed off. I don’t think pretty boy has ever not had a girl trip over her feet for him before.
Arty clears her throat, and I peel my eyes from Arden’s. “So, you must be Emrys? I know we only briefly met. Did you pick my dress? I really love it.”
Emrys shakes his head. “No, the castle did. Arden’s the only one who went the extra mile.”
“Oh, well, I love it,” she says with a bright smile. Emrys just looks downright uncomfortable. Like we all feel. He smiles at her, offering his arm, which she takes. “Are you ready to leave?”
She nods, looking over at me. Arden offers me his arm, and I back away. I’m not touching him. Livia goes up to Grayson, and he backs away from her when she offers him her hand. He growls at her. “We don’t touch.”
“Sounds good to me,” she replies.
“Let’s walk,” he grunts, his voice cold. His eyes flicker to me for only a second before he leaves with Livia. I frown at that, wondering why he doesn’t like to be touched.
Arden wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me to his side. I push against his chest. “No, we’re not doing that. I’m not your date.”
“Actually, technically, you are. Every night this week, we take four of you out to meet everyone that’s here in the castle to see you. You get to mingle, enjoy talking to them about all of the boring shit, while I get drunk. Fun times,” he deadpans, digging his fingers into my hip. “Let’s go, princess.”
