My gaze follows them as her words echo in my head.

  Keep your eyes open for the attack you expect from the back… it just may come from the front.

  My skin heats and my heart pounds a little harder in my chest as I try to process her words. The Baes are smart, experienced advisors with decades of wisdom… but they’re also the people that helped destroy my family’s kingdom.

  I can’t allow myself to be deceived by them, but I also can’t ignore the blatant warning…

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “You seemed to be having an interesting conversation with my mother and father.”

  I know who the husky voice belongs to before I turn around but I’m still caught off guard slightly as I turn to find Orrtyn standing behind me, Orrael at his side.

  My eyes can’t help but to widen as I take them in. Orrtyn has shaved his usual stubble off of his face. With his face so clean and smooth, he and Orrael look even more like the identical twins they are. If it wasn’t for the mirth dancing in Orrtyn’s eyes. Something that doesn’t often disappear, I’d have a harder time telling them apart without it. They both have their blond hair slicked back in a neat and pompous style. Stylish, black suits cover their frames with white shirts under it. The look is very modest, especially for Orrtyn. The only glimmer of the usual loud and outrageous style Orrtyn sports is a gold tie that looks to have sparkles in it.

  I find myself glancing at his fingernails… and no, no nail polish.

  How odd.

  No, what’s odd is the fact that I know all of the man's quirks and mannerisms and I’ve come to look for them.

  My shoulders tense when Orrtyn’s lips turn up into a slight smirk.

  “What are you wearing?” The words slip past my lips before I can stop them.

  He raises a perfectly arched brow. “A suit,” is the simple answer that he gives me as he pulls at the collar of said suit.

  “Yes… but it’s…” Gods, why am I even having this discussion with them. I’m supposed to be keeping my distance.

  “Not very Orttyn-like,” Orrael finishes as he turns his eyes to his brother briefly before looking back at me. His shoulders are stiffer than his brother’s and his posture is straight. “Our parents informed him to be on his best behavior tonight and to tone down his usual style.”

  So, the Baes aren’t only giving advice to me it seems.

  “Speaking of which, what did they say to you?” Orrtyn inquires, stepping closer to me. I get a low whiff of something sweet as he moves closer. The heat from his body radiates along my skin.

  I feel my skin heaten and take a step back, focusing on the people dancing around us for a moment. A woman in a long blue gown is twirled by a tall man who lets out a loud laugh. Feeling a bit more at ease, I finally look back at the twins.

  “They wanted nothing,” I lie. “It was just polite conversation.”

  Orrael raises a brow before he and Orrtyn exchange a silent look. He looks back at me, disappointment in the pools of those blue eyes. “I see.”

  I don’t like the disbelief I hear in his voice or the slight expectation, as if I’m supposed to tell them everything. We’re not friends, that has been made clear more than once, so what do they expect? At this point, I can’t even figure out whether I should go ahead and slit their throats while they sleep before escaping the castle, abandoning ship of my plans completely, or….

  No.

  I mentally shake my head. I can’t trust the men, I need to keep reminding myself that. Eventually, the mantra will stick.

  “Well then,” Orrtyn finally says, running his hands through his hair and ruffling it slightly. “How about a dance?” He holds out a hand to me and I only stare at it with a frown on my face.

  Huh?

  “What?” I ask, even though I know I shouldn’t be surprised by the sharp change in conversation. This is Orrtyn, after all, and the man is like nobody I’ve met before.

  “Dance,” he says before wiggling his hand in front of me.

  A crease forms between my brows. I glance up to look at Orrael, but he’s no longer beside his twin and I. My eyes track across the room to find him now beside Elyjah, chatting lowly. Behind their shoulder, I catch a glimpse of Brielyn moving into the room with flushed cheeks. A guard that looks slightly familiar with blonde hair follows into the room seconds later. While the guard doesn’t look as flushed as Brielyn, I note that his clothes are slightly out of place, especially for a royal guard.

  “Roxanna,” my name flows from Orrtyn’s lips so smoothly that I can’t help but to snap my gaze back to the man. “Dance,” he repeats, his mouth slightly tipped up at the corners.

  For a moment, I think about denying him but instead I find myself placing my hand in his. He smiles brightly before pulling me to him. His other hand slides to my hip and then we’re spinning around the room seamlessly. I know from past experiences at the balls that Orrtyn is a smooth dancer, precise and fluid. Tonight, is no different.

  Trained in all the customary ballroom styles of Caelumine, I follow along with him, my feet moving on their own accord. I watch Orrtyn’s face intently and find those blue eyes staring back at me. I note that there seems to be something slightly stiffer than usual about the man. It’s minute, but it’s there, a crack in the man’s usual cheery demeanor.

  His grip on me tightens slightly as his blue eyes move over my shoulder. When he turns us around, it doesn’t take me long to realize who he was looking at.

  Walker is standing across the room, leaning against the wall. He has on a pair of black slacks and a button down shirt of the same color neatly tucked into them. While his demeanor may suggest a certain amount of calm, when I look closer I know from the tightness of his shoulders that it’s the exact opposite. His hands are shoved in his pockets and his inky black hair flows down his shoulders in soft waves. While Orrtyn shaved tonight, Walker didn’t bother and the thick hair along his chin only makes him look more threatening and… hot.

  I blink, pushing the thought away as green eyes snap up to meet mine. Walker tenses up even more but his eyes never leave Orrtyn and I, even as we move further across the room.

  I’m finally the one to look away, looking up at Orrtyn who’s watching me. He opens his mouth to say something but he’s abruptly cut off as the music goes silent.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, kneel before your king and queen!”

  The announcement as per usual brings back tension in my body. Orrtyn releases me as he kneels and I can’t help but notice the way he studies me. I stare back at him before slowly kneeling. I turn my head down to the floor in submission, like the rest of the room.

  The soft click of heels vibrates through the room, emphasized by the quiet of the rest of the room. After a couple of minutes, a cold voice comes, “Rise.”

  The room gathers to its feet and I turn my gaze to look at Queen Pamula. She sits on her throne like the fucking queen she won’t be for too much longer. Black hair with hints of grey pulled back into a regal set of curls. A burgundy dress hangs to the floor in an ugly poof with gold accents and embroideries aligning it. A thick, golden crown rests on her head.

  Her husband, King Larkyn sits next to her, but he’s nothing more than a trophy husband. Everyone knows who holds the power, in not only that relationship but the kingdom, and she’s wearing a pair of red stilettos as deadly as her plans.

  As if feeling my gaze on her, Pamula turns her head, her grey eyes meeting mine. Her face doesn’t change, not giving away a thing, but I recognize the challenge in her eyes. It’s a reminder of the fact that she bitched me out a couple of weeks ago, giving me my first real glimpse at magic.

  I’d thought that maybe she held some of the last remains of the magic and figured I could combat it somehow, but now that I know magic isn’t dead but very much still thriving…

  I’ll figure out how to use my own magic if it really is there and I’ll fry every perfect strand on her head.

  “Roxanna.”

  I turn, surprised to find Walker standing behind me. His thick brows are pinched together and his shoulders are tense. “Stop it,” is the only thing he says to me. Before I can respond, he reaches over and grabs Orrtyn by the arm. He pulls the other man away from me and then he’s dragging him in the opposite direction.

  I stare after them in confusion.

  What exactly am I supposed to stop doing?

  A part of me knows he means challenging the queen head on and publicly. It’s not the first time I’ve received the warning from one of the men in their little group.

  Yet, another part of me can’t help but to think the warning was aimed at my mingling with Orrtyn, but it doesn’t quite make sense.

  Sighing, I finally move my feet, heading over to the corner where I spot Brielyn. I feel eyes on the back of my neck and I’m not quite sure who they belong to this time. The royal men who keep tempting me? Samir Luick? The fucking ice queen herself?

  Brielyn glances up at my approach and I study him to get the royals off of my mind. His orange hair is slightly rustled and his chocolate eyes are bright. I note the slight redness on his neck and turn to look for the guard I saw him with. I don’t find the man but I do turn back to Brielyn. “Did your guard have stubble?” I ask, reaching out to touch the beard burn on his neck.

  His eyes widen slightly as he pulls his collar up but I don’t miss the slight smirk on his face. “That’s none of your business, Ms. I have four royals drooling over me.”

  “I do not.”

  He only raises a brow, folding his arms over his chest. “And then there’s the whole thing of you being a virgin.” He shakes his head dramatically. “Absolutely shameful.”

  “Asshole,” I mutter, snagging a glass of wine from a passing server. I chat with Brielyn but keep an eye on the time. When it’s a half hour before midnight, I discreetly make my exit from the ball.

  I move to my quarters and quickly discard the dress and heels, pulling on a thick pair of black pants and a dark top. I slide my feet into my boots quickly and place Gwev in her holster. I move back out onto the grounds and after making sure I’m not being followed I start the climb over the wall. I make sure to remain quick, because even though most of the guards are at the ball, I also know that there’s still a lot of them swarming around the grounds.

  I land firmly on my feet on the other side of the wall. The moon is out, peeking between the trees and giving off a bit of light. I glance around, but since I’m early, I’m unsurprised to not spot Conrad.

  I move between the trees, taking up post against one of them, not wanting to be out in the open.

  After a couple of minutes, there’s a rustling from behind me and I turn around, my hand on my sword. My shoulders relax when I spot a familiar bulky frame and Conrad steps into view. His brown eyes and salt and peppered hair are familiar, like home at this point, and I find myself letting out a sigh at the sight of him.

  I move forward and wrap my arms around him, soaking in the warmth of his body.

  He’s tense for a moment, which isn’t a surprise. Conrad may be the closest thing I have to a father, but he’s my mentor first, my trainer and there’s always been a certain amount of distance that we needed in order for him to push me as hard as he could, so he isn’t the warmest person.

  After a moment he relaxes and his big arms wrap around me. He places his chin on top of my head as he pats my back. “It’s good to see you’re still intact, Roxanna. I do worry about you and how reckless you can be, especially when you’re trapped away from me here on the castle grounds.” The words are soft and he squeezes me once more before pulling back.

  I step away from him, remaining silent as he studies me. His eyes move around our surroundings before he pulls me a little further into the cover of the trees.

  “How are things going?” he finally asks.

  The royals claim to be a part of the rebels.

  I know that it should be the first thing that I tell him, it’s important information after all. But I decide to keep the information to myself for the moment, especially since I'm not sure how I feel about it, or even if I fully believe it.

  They haven’t actually given any proof to their claims now that I think about it.

  Yeah, as soon as I have proof, I’ll tell Conrad about it.

  “The royals are… an interesting development, they seem to still be taking an interest in me.” It’s as close to the truth as I’ll be able to admit to Conrad. I don’t want to see disappointment in his eyes if I tell him that I'm finding my anger disappearing from the royals.

  Conrad’s eyes narrow slightly and he folds his arms over his chest, causing the muscles to flex slightly. “Roxanna, I don’t need to remind you about what the Fawcetts did, do I?”

  The question is hypothetical. Of course, I don’t need him to remind me that the Fawcetts killed my family. That killing my family, who they supposedly had peace with, was the biggest betrayal in the history of Caelumine.

  It’s something I’ll never forget.

  But the Bae twins and Elyjah were just barely teenagers and Walker… he technically isn’t even a royal.

  “Roxanna,” Conrad says sharply before I feel his fingers under my chin, rough and firm. He forces my head up and I have no choice but to stare him in the eyes as he studies me.

  I try to keep my gaze flat and clear, not wanting to give anything away.

  I know I’ve failed when he lets out a low hiss and lets go of me. He takes a step back as he grabs a fistful of his hair. His brown eyes continue to watch me, hot and furious. “Roxanna, those royals are not good people, you cannot forget that.”

  “I know they aren’t.” It’s only a half lie. I know Queen Pamula is no better than the scum under my boots, but I’m not sure the same can be applied to her son and his friends.

  “But do you really?” Conrad inquires as he twists a steel boot into the dirt in frustration.

  “Of course.” Another half-lie. This time Conrad only raises a brow at me, the weight of his stare heavy. “It’s just that… they aren’t the worst.” Gods, did those words just come out of my mouth?

  It’s bad enough when I tell myself that the royals aren’t as bad as I think they are, but admitting it to Conrad… that’s an entirely different thing. “I think maybe the prince and his friends… they aren’t on board with the way things are being run or the destruction of our kingdom.” And where did that come from?

  I’ve never directly spoken about the Deigtyn Kingdom with any of the men, accept for Orrael, once. The conversation was brief and I couldn’t quite get a feel of what he thought about it. It's never come up with the other men, thankfully, yet. Maybe they don’t agree with the sentiment if they’re really rebels like they told me they were.

  Conrad lets out a deep breath as he takes a step forward. He grabs onto my arm tightly and I look up at him. His eyes, that are usually warm, hold nothing but coldness.

  “Roxanna, you cannot let yourself be swayed by handsome faces and false words of kindness.” His words are clipped and short, just as hard as his grip on me. “Those men, they are nothing but poison and if you let yourself consume it, you’ll be just as dead as your parents and your sister.”

  My blood runs cold at the words and my heart pounds faster in my chest.

  “It’s rare that I doubt your judgment, but this… this is ridiculous and I will not budge on it. You get rid of those thoughts or I’ll drag you away from here and we’ll return to the mortal realm. I’d prefer you alive and a disgrace to your parent’s legacy than dead and a disgrace.”

  And there the word is.

  A disgrace.

  I feared that Conrad would say the brutal words if he found out that I was wavering and here they are out in the open.

  And he’s right.

  I didn’t train for over half of my life, put my body through hell, and transform myself into a weapon to allow myself to be swayed. No matter how kind the guys may pretend to be or the fake concern they show for me, at the end of the day, they will stab me in the back if I choose to trust them.

  Keep your eyes open for the attack you expect from the back… it just may come from the front.

  A snake is a snake, you can never change its scales, and if I allow myself to let the royals in, their true nature will come out. At this point it’s just a matter of where I want them to place the knife.

  I look up into Conrad’s stern eyes and I straighten my shoulders as I give him a sharp nod. “It was a stupid thought and I will not allow myself to have it again. You can trust me and that I will do what’s right and give my family the proper vengeance that they deserve. I will not be a disgrace.”

  “Please extend your arm containing the tracker,” the lady in front of me says in a robotic voice. Her eyes are blank and her brown hands hold a little device in them.

  I study her for a moment longer before extending my arm as asked to. The lady places the device right over the point in my arm where I know the chip was inserted the first day of The Calling.

  The cool metal presses against my skin before there’s a sharp pain. I watch as rivulets of dark red blood trickle down my arm and the lady pulls the device away. All the planning Conrad and I went through about getting the little chip removed and here the royals are removing it themselves.

  Another lady with pale skin and blonde hair pulled back into a neat bun steps in with some type of cream. She cleans the blood from my arm before slathering it in cream and wrapping a thick, white piece of cloth around it. “You’re good to go,” she finally says with a sharp nod and extends her arm toward the door in front of me.

  We’re supposed to be shipping out to The Culling today. All competitors must meet in a room where we’ll be given last minute instructions before being parroted off.

  I move into the room and find the remaining competitors all standing around. They’re chatting in low murmurs, but the tension in the air is hard to miss.

  No one knows what is coming next, just that it’s going to be hell. Half of the people in this room won’t come back from it.

  As long as I keep my wits about me and Conrad’s words in the back of my head, I won’t be a part of that half.