Chapter 77

SEVEN.

Days pass. What little snow came out this winter is already starting to melt by the time the last day of the month and year comes.

And that signals the coming of the tourney.

I’m in the tent for the warriors right now, strapping myself up in my armor. It’s quite embarrassing that I’m the only one in a golden armor, but I don’t think the others mind. After all, it was already made clear that I was going to be the King, and there was nothing they could do about that. But instead of making me feel big and important, I feel small and embarrassed.

It doesn’t help that Amelie hasn’t responded to me since our talk on Christmas Eve. Well, the night did go horribly because of me, but I have a feeling that her parents found out, and maybe they forbade her to talk to me.

Outside, I can still hear the people cheering in the stands while the archery contest was going on. I’m supposed to just participate in the last act, which is jousting. That happens to be the most brutal one of them all, because I would have to go against somebody and try to knock them off their horse. And if either of us are satisfied with that outcome, we can choose to fight each other to the death.

I strap my sword at my side. I would say I’m skilled, since my dad did train me with this as a kid. But I don’t know what the others might be capable of.

The cheering continues. I’m about to peek outside when the tent flaps move and someone heads in.

It’s Amelie, wearing silver armor with a blue plume on her helmet. She looks at the two other boys in the tent, and they both get up and leave as though on cue. When the coast is clear, she comes up to me and immediately says, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” I ask. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I stopped responding to you, I know,” she says with a sigh. “Look. I didn’t mean to do that. My parents have been keeping a close eye on me and I wanted to give them the impression that I’m not up to no good. But I got some information, and they’re… not good.”

I frown. “What did you find?”

“The doctor is dead.” She lets out a sharp breath. “Slit neck. They say that he did it to himself. Others say someone else did it. But as to how, no one could explain. He’s alone in his cell and he has a guard all day, all night. I thought we could get him to reveal who the others are, but no.”

“There’s no House Romanov either,” I point out. “I’ve been trying to find a connection that would link him to a particular house but apparently it doesn’t exist. He must have changed his last name and lives separately from any house. I saw your dad and him being quite friendly and I—”

“The doctor donated to the school a couple of times,” Amelie interjects. “But no, they’re not close. My dad thinks he’s an exile or a bastard, that’s why he doesn’t belong to one house. But that doesn’t help us at all.”

“No, it does not,” I agree. “So what do we do? I’m prepared to find out more beyond what my home library can offer—”

“Seven, that’s not your concern now.” She looks around to make sure the coast is clear, then she lowers her voice. “They… they are having second thoughts about you being King. After Christmas Eve our home got flooded by the heads of houses demanding answers. They said the tourney should at least determine who they need to follow. Who shows the most strength. Who has fire.”

She stares at me pointedly, and I try to register her words.

So what I thought was right all along. They’re all still dying for power. I regret not just asking for the Hunt to be done but that’s over now.

“So this tourney that’s supposed to be for shits and giggles is now an open battlefield?” I ask.

Amelie’s eyes turn dark. “Two Dragon heirs have already died. It has turned brutal, Seven. They’re trying to hide this from you because they don’t want you to be King. But you need to show them that you deserve it.”

I nod, watching as she leaves. I never really wanted to be King, but now it’s becoming clearer and clearer how dangerous it would be for just anyone to take the title. I remember their plans for Humans and it never fails to chill me. If I don’t become their official King, then they would be free to do this.

If they want someone with fire… then I’ll show them that.

The jousting gets called next, and I put on my helmet before stepping out of the tent and into the stables. I get on a chestnut horse, taking my gold-painted jousting stick from the squire. I face my opponent, and I feel my heart dropping when I see the blue details. It’s Amelie. She’s my first opponent.

I meet her eyes, and she just nods as we’re signaled to go.

I tug at my horse’s reins, and it runs fast. I ready the stick, looking for the perfect opportunity to unseat Amelie from her horse but not hurt her.

We draw closer and closer to each other, and I jab my stick at her side, where the armor is the thickest, to push her out of her horse. My strength and the momentum work in my favor, and she gets bucked off her horse.

The people cheer, but the sound is mixed with uncertainty. Amelie was right: they’re eager to watch me fail.

I watch as she gets up to make sure she’s okay, and when she gets to her feet, she nods at me and leaves.

And I face my next opponent. From the House Dawn.

It’s a big burly boy I recognize from the football team. Our horses rush at each other and we prepare to joust, but I notice that he’s aiming for my neck, the vulnerable part with not a lot of armor. He’s out there to kill, and he’s doing it subtly.

That makes me angrier than I thought it would.

I tap my heels on my horse’s sides, making it go faster. I prepare to duck and strike, and once we pull level, I shove the top of my stick into his front as hard as I can, all the while bending so he won’t hit me.

He flies right off his horse, and in his shock, he forgets that he can still challenge me and walks away.

The cheering is a little more positive now. But I look up at the stands and see so many displeased faces still.

I joust with three more opponents. All of them tried to have some kind of trick, but I managed to push them right off their horses. One of them gets knocked out cold. None of them dares to challenge me.

At least, not until the Anatoly kid shows up.

I recognize him by face but I never bothered to learn his name. But he’s a huge boy, taller and bulkier than me. His horse looks comically small with him on it. But he’s charging at me with two hands on the handle of the stick, prepared to push me down with all his strength. We draw level, and he basically stabs my side with the stick.

He hits the vulnerable part of my armor and pain blossoms at my side. Breathing feels like inhaling knives. I steady myself as my stick breaks on his shield.

The squires give me another one as I reach the end of the line, and once again I face him. I can see what he’s aiming for, and this time I’m angry enough to employ dirty tactics myself. As we go again, I don’t raise my stick. I just wait for the perfect time because I know he’s going to anticipate my attack and break my stick with his shield.

He’s aiming for my side again, probably seeing how I almost keeled over in pain. He’s smiling under his helmet, and I seethe internally.

“Use your fire,” Astro tells me, but it’s not yet the time.

We race at each other once more. He makes a wild jab at my side when we’re not even level, and he misses the shot. The audience howls in disappointment. I raise the jousting stick a little higher and I jab it right into the middle of his throat.

I expect him to fall down choking, but to my utter surprise, the top of the wooden stick pierces right through his throat.

Killing him instantly.