My thoughts on my appearance disappear the second I hear the sound of metal against flesh. It doesn’t take us long to get closer, and I see two elves circling each other inside the ring, bare-armed, blades glinting.
I blink. Wielding blades while wearing no protection?
I’d like to see this, my companion chimes in, sliding through my thoughts forcefully and causing me to flinch.
“May I watch a little?” I ask my ladies-in-waiting. Merlina stops first, exchanging a long-suffering look with the others before nodding.
“Only for a little while—we have much to do.”
I nod and turn my attention back to the spectacle. Something uncomfortable churns in my gut.
These elves look different from the courtiers. Their skin is marked by the sun, and their movements are rougher. One feints, and the other answers in a blur, resulting in a yell and a stream of red flowingdown the other man’s face. A small thud in the rocks beneath him draws my eye.
A severed ear sits atop a small rock.
My mouth falls open and my heart skips a beat.
Applause rises, delicate as rain. A lady in a saffron gown tosses a coin that flashes before disappearing into the gravel. No one flinches at the blood spattered on the petals, nor the missing body part.
“What on earth was that?” I ask Eslina.
She casts me a pitying look. “This is just how we are, my lady. Be grateful you haven’t been forced to watch what the king does to those who commit treason yet.”
I clench my hands. “What does he do?”
She purses her lips. “Usually the guilty parties are forced to fight others—people, animals, you name it—to the death. I don’t find joy in it like others.”
A shiver skitters down my spine, but we continue a few paces.
Near the fountain, a boy stands with his hands clasped behind his back. A blindfold covers his eyes. Each time a bell chimes, he takes a step forward, and each time his foot lands on a chalked square out of sequence, a waiting gentleman flicks his switch across the boy’s calves.
“Training,” someone murmurs contentedly, as if talking about the shaping of a hedge. “He’ll be better for it.”
I slow without meaning to. Eslina’s hand touches my elbow. “Do not stare,” she whispers. “They will think you are inviting comment, and I don’t think you are ready for simple chatter.”
“And what is the purpose of all of this? Punishment?” I try to keep my voice down, still thinking about the brutal fighting Eslina had mentioned just moments before.
Merlina does not lower her tone. “Entertainment,” she says. “It is fashionable to begin early. Birds sing better before noon. Servants cry more easily on an empty stomach.”
“This happens every morning, then?” I respond. Cursed One hums, pleased, but I feel disgusted. These are not performers, they are akin to animals kept in cages and taunted with fire and sharpobjects.
This is…brutal. How does this exist in the same place with those who appear so beautiful and evolved? They watch as if they are watching someone paint. Elves are meant to care for nature; how can they not extend that same care to their fellow beings?
“Do not show your emotions. If you do not like it, keep it to yourself,” Kiala says.
I hadn’t even realized how deeply I frowned.
We continue walking and I’m almost surprised to see so many people simply lounging around the area. The courtyard empties into a smaller gallery, where morning tea is served in porcelain cups. Laughter from those already seated eases, and quiet gazes slide over me like blades. The scent of cinnamon and something metallic coils in my throat.
“Ah! The human bride! Welcome, welcome to our little breakfast. I must say, efficient choice last night,” a man drawls, lifting his cup toward me. “Decisive. Irresolute consorts cause delays. If all humans have such a good head on them, it might make up for the fact that you are trying to replace us elves.”
Replace them? I thought the elves wanted us. They needed us.
Another woman—hair like polished walnut, pearls in her ears—clicks her tongue. “Efficient? For whom? My fittings are ruined for the season. Keralyn’s hand was singular. Now I must suffer whatever amateur replaces her. All because the human points a finger.”
I smile, but my ladies-in-waiting do not give me time to stop, instead pushing me on.
“Keralyn?” I ask them. The name snags in my chest.