Chapter 8

1288 Words
(Gwen’s POV) The noon bell had stopped ringing by the time I stumbled out of the trees, and my arms felt like they'd been torn off and sewn back on crooked. The palace gates were open. Rhea stood at the foot of the steps with her hands clasped behind her back, and the other nine girls were lined up beside her, each with an animal at her feet. Every head turned toward me at once. I didn't have the strength to be embarrassed. I just kept pulling, one boot after another, the deer's white head bumping along the gravel behind me, until I reached Rhea and let go of its leg with a groan. "Here," I wheezed, bent double with my hands on my knees. "I'm back. Before the bell. I think." Rhea didn't answer. She was staring at the deer. "You caught this?" "Yes." "Alone?" "Who else would have helped me?" I straightened, tugging my sagging sleeve back over my wrist. "It took all the twelve arrows just to get one shot." A low murmur went through the girls. The redhead's eyes were huge. "It's white," she whispered. "Completely white. I've never seen one." "They say white deer are bad luck to kill," someone muttered. "Or very good luck," said another. "Who did you steal that from, nymph?" Sera had stepped out of line, one hand on her hip, a huge brown moose lying behind her. "A girl in a bag couldn't catch a deer that size." "I shot it." "With what, your good wishes?" "With a bow," I said, and my voice came out sharp. "Same one you had." Her smile thinned. Before she could answer, Rhea lifted one hand and everyone went silent. "Enough. The king will see you now." Her gaze moved over us and stopped, briefly, on my dirty tunic and the torn knee of my trousers. "Bring your catches. Quietly." Guards stepped forward to haul the animals, and we followed Rhea up the steps and through a corridor. My legs trembled with every stair. The deer's dried blood had stained my tunic, and my hair was plastered to my neck, and I was too tired to care how I looked. Rhea stopped before a tall set of doors and turned to us. "Whatever you hear inside, you will not speak, you will not flinch, and you will not look away. Understood?" "Yes, Rhea." The doors opened. The hall inside was big, black stone and dark red banners, with a raised dais at the end and a high-backed throne of iron. Xaden sat on it with one leg crossed over the other, in a black coat and an open collar, one hand resting on the arm of the chair. Before him, a man in chains knelt on the stone floor, his head bowed and his shoulders shaking. "Your Majesty," the man whispered. "Please. I have a family." "You sold the location of my northern patrols," Xaden said, in a voice so calm that it made my skin crawl. "Seven wolves died because of it." "I was threatened, I didn't want—“ "Execute him." He didn't even raise his voice. "And feed his body to the beasts." The man screamed. Two guards dragged him toward a side door, his heels scraping, his cries echoing off the walls until the door shut and cut them off. My mouth fell open before I could stop it, and a cold, creeping chill slid down my spine. ‘This is the man I have to kiss. Three times?!’ I saw Rhea's sideways glance, and I snapped my mouth shut. Xaden's eyes turned toward us. They were pale gold and utterly empty, and they moved across the line of girls one by one, and when they reached me at the very end, my heart dropped straight through the floor. "Line up," Rhea said quietly. "In a row, each beside your catch." We shuffled into a long, straight line down the center of the hall, animals at our feet. Of course the guards put me at the very end, with my white deer lying beside me, small and covered in dirt, behind nine girls in neat gray uniforms. "Begin," Xaden said. The first girl stepped forward, a tall blonde, with a bison laid out before her. She curtsied low. "Your Majesty, I caught this." "A bison." He studied it. "Cleanly killed. Enough meat to feed the hall.” "Thank you, Your Majesty." "You pass." She let out a shaky breath and stepped aside, the second girl came forward, trembling and dragging the tiger. "A tiger," Xaden said slowly. His expression didn't change. "Did anyone tell you what I was allergic to?" The girl's face went white. "N-No, Your Majesty. I didn't know, I swear—" "It is tiger." "I'm sorry, I—" "You will be locked up for three days," he said, "and then you will be sent home to your family." "Please, Your Majesty—" "Take her." Two guards seized her arms, and she wept as they pulled her away. The room was so quiet that I could hear her sobs fade down the hall, and my knees went weak. I grabbed my sleeve to keep from swaying. ‘That's it. This is how I die. I don't even know if deer is the one.’ The third girl brought a fox, which Xaden dismissed with a flat "inedible" and the same three days. The next was Sera, who stepped forward with her chin high and her moose behind her. "A moose," Xaden said. "I tracked it for an hour, Your Majesty." Her voice was sweet as honey. "I hoped it would suit your table." "It will." He nodded. "You pass." She smiled, and her eyes flicked toward me as she walked back into line. A girl with a crow went next, and was sent to the cells. The redhead followed, trembling, with a rabbit held out in front of her in both hands. "A rabbit," Xaden said, and one eyebrow moved a fraction. "That's a snack." "It was the only thing I could catch, Your Majesty." "At least you are honest." He looked at it a moment longer. "You pass." She sagged with relief. Three more passed with a boar, a goose, and a goat, and then there were no more girls ahead of me, and the hall went quiet. Three punished. Six passed. And me. I stepped forward with my legs shaking so hard I thought I might fall, and sank into a bow so low that my forehead nearly touched the floor. "Your Majesty," I stammered. "Your M—Your Majesty. I— I, um." "Speak." "Your Majesty, I caught a... a deer." I swallowed. "A white one. I think. I mean, it is white. It was white when it was alive, too." Someone behind me made a stifled sound. I wanted the floor to open. Xaden said nothing. He rose from the throne and walked down the dais steps, slowly, and stopped beside the deer. His long black coat swept the stone. He looked at the animal, at its size and the single clean wound near its heart, and then up at me. "Alone?" "Yes, Your Majesty." "With a quiver of how many arrows?" "Twelve." My voice cracked. "I used eleven missing it." His gaze flicked over my filthy tunic, my torn knee, my hands, which were still trembling. He looked at me for what felt like a year, and I held perfectly still and tried not to cry. Then he clapped once, a single sharp sound that echoed off the walls. "The little girl," he said, "turned out to be the only one who was able to catch a reasonable animal."
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