The King Trials 2: Beyond.

A clap of thunder jolts me awake.

I whip out my father’s dagger from beneath my pillow and bolt upright.

The oil lamps mounted on the walls are lit, a tentative flame flickers in each, warding off the surrounding darkness. I lower my arm slowly, then I reach over to place the dagger on its loose scabbard, right beside the other sheathed dagger atop the bedside table.

I level my gaze to notice the vacant bed across from me.

Consciousness rouses all my qualms, fears and dread. I lean back, breathing deeply—inhaling the dank, stale air, the atmosphere encumbered by a throat-tightening mustiness. I fling the thick cover off me and I shuffle to the desk on the corner to retrieve my night robe draped on the head of the chair. I pluck it up and fasten it around me as I make my way out of the cabin.

I breeze through the wooden corridors and when I emerge outside. I draw in a long breath, my lungs filling with the fresh and crisp air. I journey my way down to the main deck, drifting on the rim, alongside the railing to the bow.

During the way, I pass a few patrolling Avangard soldiers; we exchange nods and move on.

Distant sounds swell steadily, the low hum of hushed voices.

I pay no attention to it. At first.

I round a corner only to snap back, flattening myself against the wall. I inch closer to peer over the brink. I catch a glimpse of Anthia and Aries at the end of the aisle, arguing, speaking feverishly to one another. Anthia turns to storm off but Aries captures her by the shoulders, rotating her around, forcing her gaze.

The audio is perceptible from this range. I can hear their words but I do not understand whatever guttural, full of clicks, language that they converse in. Which is strange since I was able to detect the tongue of a ‘non-existent’ people. But oddly, not theirs.

My nerves spike, alarm tearing through me.

I spin around and thrust a fist—he blocks and grabs my waist to ram against the wall and the impact bursts through my back. I thwart a wince and glare back at his maddening smirk.

“I am quite disappointed,” Vince whispers huskily. “I thought you would be a lot faster.”

I give him a quick once over. His necklace hangs free on his bare chest, pendant dangling from his neck.

“What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he says briskly. “But I think that should be my line. Why are you eavesdropping on the twins?”

Shadows swim across his eyes, his smirk cuts sharp.

“I was not—not deliberately.” I look back at him, his eyes explore the frame of my body. He stares down at me curiously, like I’m an exotic flower. “I do not have to answer to you.”

I move left. He pastes his hand against the wall, beside my head and he does the same on the other side, imprisoning me between his elongated arms. Our gaze clash.

I fix him with a jaded look, watching him cautiously.

“The sole heir of Valwa. The lone Hera who was averse to the social season; a repellent to our fellow elite, the High-minded Hera who arrived at the Pantheon, all prudish and mysterious. You are still the same then as you are now.”

A bitter snort escapes me. I try to shove free but his siege remains strong.

“You are still the same,” he repeats firmly, his voice deepening. “The only difference is the secrets you keep.”

“I do not have any secrets,” I say thickly.

“You have many. And it’s taking its toll on you, I see it day by day.” His voice imbued with potent sentimentality. “Besides, everyone has secrets. I will prove it to you, without consequence. I will share a secret with you in good faith.”

Patiently, I fold my arms, gripping the sleeve.

“I will tell you a secret that may be my undoing.” He drops his voice. “A secret that may destroy me.”

He gives me a long, appraising look and I force myself not to squirm under his gaze.

“I believe I might be falling my rival,” he whispers conspiratorially. “If my father knew, he would have my head. To be a good fighter is to be better at being in control of one’s emotions. And I always have been, my feelings optional to keep or abandon.”

A desirous gleam polishes his eyes.

“But with this rival. Even in abysmal darkness, her light shines like the noonday sun.”

I break into a humourless smile.

“And to see her smile is to feel the sun.”

I respond with a tiny, reproachful headshake. “Your father’s hypothetical wrath would be justified. To become emotionally invested in your rival is indescribably unwise. We both comprehend the danger.”

“This is a flaw, a possible mistake that I do not regret.” He shrugs helplessly. “I could not, even if I have tried. And believe, I have.”

My arms sink to my side. I avert my gaze. “You may think you know this rival, but your perception is askew. The only one that knows her, all of her, and simply the parts they like to look at or choose. The ones who saw what she really is and capable of, they are all dead. Because she killed them. Once again, Vince. You know nothing about what I am.”

He looks away, a muscle feathers in his jaw.

“For a Valwa, you can be so short-sighted.” Frustration leathers his tone. “I know enough about you. I know that despite what Rimnick did to you—what he was ready to do to you. You spared his life. I wanted to gut him open and watch his insides spill from his stomach. But you spared him, you only killed him because he gave you no choice, and that alone was a mercy.”

My gaze clings to his pendant. The emerald glass glinting under moonlight.

“I believe there is both evil and good in everyone. But I do not believe that you can simply choose to be one or the other. Good and evil are a matter of perspective. Sometimes bad people do good things and sometimes good people do bad things. It is all based on motive and outcome. Sometimes lines must be crossed to achieve an ultimate objective. A time where a leader has to sacrifice the few to save the many. It’s cold, but it’s our reality.”

I sniff and haul my gaze to meet his eyes. “You hold me hostage in your grip to lecture me on the philosophy of my moral compass?”

“No, because I do not need to. No matter your actions. Your heart and your truth points north. You are good.”

“My truth,” I say absently. I bit down hard on my lower lip. “The mandate of the King Trials has taken a fatal route. It seems it’s not about one victor, but about the last survivor. The only one remaining. If you were pitted against me, with only me in your path to the throne. What you would you do?”

His face contorts, twisting into a foul look. “I do not wish to think about it.”

“You must. That is our reality.”

“What would you do?” he chucks back, his eyes dead set on me.

“It was instilled in me that duty comes before all. Whatever must be done, let it be done.”

A glimmer of approval sparks in his eyes. “A wise sentiment. But you never gave me a definite answer. What would you do?”

“What I must.”

He removes his arms from me, straightening. Casting shadows shift on his shoulders, creeping on every bulge of muscle.

“Dutiful,” he remarks flatly. “So you will slay whoever to achieve your desires?”

“I never desired the throne!” I snap, triggering my fury.

He smiles back at me triumphantly, like he had successfully managed to pry out the exact information he wanted from me. I shake my head furiously, anchoring my gaze to the ground.

“Then why are you here?”

I was not given an alternative.

“I had no choice,” I mutter.

“You did have a choice; you could have forfeited your claim. But you choose to participate.”

“I choose my family.” I jab a finger at my chest. “What matters to my father, matters to me. I never cared for a position of power, but I cared about being in the position to protect, to safeguard the legacy of Valwa. I did it in honour of my Regnum and in the name of my father. I did what I had to.”

“But it is not what you desire,” he questions.

I hesitate, groping for words. “What I desire is to do my duty.”

Vince’s smile burgeons to a full, shining grin.

He edges closer, cornering me to the wall once again. “And what if I stood in the path of your honourable goal?”

I lift my chin. “You know the answer.”

“Does it apply to Solaris as well?”

I freeze at his question.

“I have silently admired your brother-sister bond. But eventually that bond will soon become a liability. That is a reality you must face.”

I give him a stern look, my resolve steeling. “Never. I would rather fall then harm a strand on his head because I should not have to compromise who I am for the sake of my ambition. If the predecessors valued such integrity, we would not be in this mess.”

Vince frees a half-hearted chuckle. He tucks lock behind his ear, his hair tied in a mess low bun, a few defiant wisps stick to his temple, reaching his jaw.

“And do you think you upheld this measure of integrity?”

“Is this interrogation over? You have worn me so that I crave slumber, even a fitful one.”

He takes a moment to study me like a complex equation, the verges of his eyes crinkling. “So many secrets,” he says ponderously.

He lunges forward—my back pressures against the wall. I hold back a gasp. His breath skims over my agape mouth.

“One day.” His words tumble into my mouth. “You will confess them all to me.”

I slant my head to whisper my piece into his ear, “The only thing I will confess to you is that you are about to feel considerable pain.”

“What—”

His words devolve into a blend of groans and grunts as I launched my knee into his groin. He bends forward, his face aligning with mine.

“When you behold the sun for too long, your eyes will start to burn. In your case, so can other places. Remember that the next time you wish to corner me.”

He lengthens his spine, releasing an explosive breath. “It is as I said before. So short-short-sided. Tunnel vision is just as worse as being blinded by your own perception. Which you are guilty of both.”

I let out an—almost—breathless laugh. “It is shocking how much you think you know.”

He cocks a brow at me, head tilting to one side. “And it is disturbing how little you know. You trust, but you trust the wrong people.”

“I trust no-one.”

“You trust Solaris,” he retorts. “And why is that? I saw you two had encounters in the past, even saw him buzzing around your sister at some noble’s garden part, he looked absolutely infatuated. Does that grant him immunity from the enmity of our rivalry? If so, then I should have vied for your sister before if it could have won me your favour.”

Anger blazes within, hot and sudden. “Solar’s intentions were clear because he established contact long before the Dophan’s death, let alone news of the King Trials.”

“And you think that absolves him?” His smile transforms into something ominous and condescending. “All that sounds to me is a good weapon to use against you. Use the very thing that he believes exonerates him from suspicion as the blade he would use to pierce your back.”

“He would never betray me.”

“And how can ascertain to that?” He ambles a step towards me. “Because he promised you? Offered his friendship? Formed a special kind of coalition? Sounds like the same song Dario sung.”

My eyes fill their sockets.

“This is a competition, Aurora. You cannot take anyone at their word, or even by what they do. Civility is not an impression of companionship, just as fighting alongside each other makes us friends. Merely a necessity of self-preservation.”

I lift a shoulder. “And what, I should take you at your word?”

“No, because I am your rival.” His face grows grave. “I am here on a duty of my own and I am honour bound to complete it. I do not want your trust; I want you to be careful.”

“Befriending Solaris was an act of recklessness?”

“Fraternising with Primus Kelan was an act of imprudence.”

My eyebrows shoot to my hairline. “What a subtle transition.”

He cuts me off with an angry slash of his hand. “The truth is that you do not know anyone, nor their true intentions. The only one you can trust is yourself.”

“Why?” I blurt, my voice tinged with exasperation. I throw my hands up. “Why counsel me? Offer your adversary guidance if not with the intention to deceive or manipulate for some other ulterior purpose?”

Vince bellows a groan, reverberating into the celestial firmament. “You are the most foolish, wise person I have ever met.” He stabs a finger at the night sky. “Shall I etch my truth on the cosmos, carve it into the fabric of the realm?”

I baulk at his abrupt intensity, a spout of fervour.

“I do not care if the sun burns me,” he says. His tone shifts into tenderness. “It can burn me, sear my very flesh, but it will not stop me from beholding its beauty.”