He looked back at her. “Nice… decoration you got here. Is there a specific name for this style?”
“Dark Valley.” Her voice was apologetic, at least, not confrontational or petulant. “Over there, any dark space will spawn shadow creatures, and I know I’m not there, but I couldn’t shake the feeling… I can put it all back.” She looked at him, her eyes pleading. “I’m sorry.”
Griffin hoped she’d never mentioned their encounter at the Oak Tavern and just smiled. “No need to apologize. I’m in a good mood. Get all your things. Oh. And fix this mess.”
The girl started to put her things in a duffel bag.
Griffin didn’t want to wait and told Stavos, “Take her to my office.”
He walked away trying to think what to do with her. The guests were unlikely to enjoy seeing a cute girl like that fighting and maybe getting hurt. Insane that the Dark Valley had chosen her, when she was anything but Royal Games material. Now he had to find a solution. Soon.
Zora was following Stavos out of the building. She still didn’t know who the dark-haired young man was but had a dreadful feeling.
“Who is he?”
Stavos looked at her for a moment, as if considering an answer, then had sort of a grimace-smirk. “You’ll figure it out.”
“Why? Is it a mystery or something?”
“No.” The man kept walking as if his answer had been enough.
Zora took a deep breath. If the tavern guy was one of the princes, she was neck-deep in trouble. Not only hadn’t she addressed him properly just now, this morning’s meeting had definitely included a jail-worthy offense. Or worse. In fact, considering that the guy was here in the castle, giving orders, he was obviously someone important, so regardless of who he was, Zora had definitely screwed up big time—and maybe ruined her opportunity.
They entered the castle, and what would have been exhilarating in another circumstance was now terrifying. Zora’s palms were sweating and her mind was whirling, trying to come up with a way to explain herself. Unfortunately, nothing acceptable came to her as she passed corridors with tapestries and sculptures, her mind partly admiring their beauty, partly getting spooked by the number of shadows, but mostly dreading her upcoming meeting.
Zora could feel her heart beating when she walked in an almost bare room, with wooden furniture and a fireplace. The wall had swords, shields, axes, and lances, and she couldn’t help but admire their craftsmanship. The guy from the tavern was sitting on an armchair, a booted leg on a small table, his eyes looking down at the leather bands around his wrist as if uninterested.
The door closed, and Zora realized Stavos had left. She was alone with the mysterious guy, her heart almost exploding.
“Please, sit.” His tone was icy and he still fumbled with leather straps on his wrist, but when she sat, he raised his dark eyes to her. At least she didn’t feel like an insect, but rather like a target he was planning on throwing something at.
He raised his eyebrows. “Satisfied? Got a kick out of overwhelming a prince?”
As she feared. And that had to be Griffin, the youngest. She wished the ground would open and she could fall through a hole below her. But she couldn’t, so she had to say something. “I’m truly sorry. I know it’s not a valid excuse, but I was super hungry. And angry. At someone else. And I had no idea you, uh, your highness was one of the princes, not that it excuses what I did, but I swear I felt bad right—”
He raised a hand as if to silence her. “I already forgot it, and I suggest you do the same. Let’s put this incident behind us.” His eyes were piercing.
A glimmer of hope was lit in her heart. Of course. Would he want to tell people that he had fallen in the mud? Of course not. And she had no intention of ever mentioning it.
Zora smiled. “Thank you.”
Griffin leaned back on the chair, eyes still on her, making her tremble. “This is a special time for Gravel. A time for festivities, celebration. I was the one who insisted on having a representative from the Dark Valley, and I’m glad you’re here. We have visitors from the entire kingdom and from abroad, including nobles and rich merchants. This festival is not only about the Royal Games, but an opportunity for the youth of our kingdom to…”
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Find their ideal partners. In this condition, you’ll be placed in the castle and you’ll be part of all the festivities. I’m confident you’ll find a great match.”
Match? As in getting married? Zora blinked, and when no other possibility came to her mind, she shook her hands in front of her. “No, no, no. I don’t do the whole… matching thing. I gave that up. I just want… to win the competition. That’s all.”
He glared at her for a second. “All? That’s it? As if it were nothing? As if there weren’t eleven more seasoned warriors plus me wanting the same thing? As if you stood a chance?”
That wasn’t true. “I have a chance.”
Griffin rolled his eyes and she grabbed the arms of the chair with all her strength to prevent her hands from doing something stupid.
He got up. “The Royal Games…” He paused while running his hand through his hair, revealing a long sideburn that she hadn’t noticed until then. “Is not a competition against unaware, unarmed adversaries.”
Zora got up as well. “I’m from the Dark Valley. I bet you have no idea what I’ve faced before. What I can face. I can fight.”
“I’m not doubting that. It’s just… This year is special, it’s not the normal games, it’s the Blood Cup, and it will be dangerous.”
Blood Cup? The name rang a bell. The goddess. He’d gotten her attention.
“It’s important for many reasons,” he continued. “But it’s also entertainment for our visitors. People might get hurt, and it will still be entertaining. I do hope nobody dies, but if a champion does, the crowds might still love it. But nobody is coming to Gravel to see a pretty girl risking her life in the arena.”
She’d been so caught up wondering what this Blood Cup was that his words didn’t make sense at first, until she realized he was talking about her. Griffin, the handsome youngest Gravel prince was saying Zora was pretty. And yet she felt horrible.
She stepped close to him. “That wasn’t in the instructions we were sent.” She knew it because she’d read them. “We were supposed to choose our best, our strongest. I earned my place.” That was a lie, but he didn’t need to know. “What are you going to tell my people? How will they feel when they’re told they’re out of the Royal Games?”
He put his hands on her shoulders, in a gesture that felt patronizing. “There’s still time to bring someone else from your valley. You can stay for the festivities. Take part in the balls, the celebration, find allies, maybe even a husband.”
“I don’t want to get married!” she yelled, then realized she was breaching decorum again. “Your highness,” she added in a low voice.
At least he stopped touching her and crossed his arms. This was like Zora’s worst nightmare. Seth would then be back in the competition and would humiliate her. She sat down again, and to her horror, realized that tears were forming in her eyes. In a way, the prince was humiliating her, too, telling her that the only thing she was good for was to serve a man, as if she were only an object, nothing more.