swore, as the sheet of ice cracked and splintered and came crashing down on top of him. It wasn’t against the rules—they’d both chosen water—but it was a rare thing, to claim your opponent’s element for yourself, and overpower them.
A rarer thing still, to be overpowered.
Kell could have escaped, could have drawn the fight out another measure, maybe two. But he had to lose. So he held his ground and let the ceiling of ice fall, shattering the plates across his shoulders and back, and sending up flares of light.
And just like that, it was over.
Delilah Bard had won.
She came to a stop beside him, offered him her hand.
“Well played, mas vares,” she whispered.
Kell stood there, dazed. He knew he should bow to her, to the crowd, and go, but his feet wouldn’t move. He watched as Lila tipped her mask up to the stands, and the king, then watched as she gave him one last devilish grin and slipped away. He gave a rushed bow to the royal platform and sprinted after her, out of the stadium and into the tents, throwing open the curtain marked by the two crossed blades.
An attendant stood waiting, the only figure in an otherwise empty tent.
“Where is she?” he demanded, even though he knew the answer.
The devil’s mask sat on the cushions, discarded along with the rest of the armor.
Lila was already gone.
V
Lila leaned back against Elsor’s door, gasping for air.
She’d caught him off guard, that much was sure, and now Kell knew. Knew she’d been in London for days, knew she’d been there, right beside him, in the tournament. Her heart was pounding in her chest; she felt like a cat who’d finally caught its mouse, and then let it go. For now.
The high began to settle with her pulse. Her head was throbbing, and when she swallowed, she tasted blood. She waited for the wave of dizziness to pass, and when it didn’t, she let her body sink to the wooden floor, Kell’s voice ringing in her ears.
That familiar, exasperated tone.
This is madness.
So superior, as if they weren’t both breaking all the rules. As if he weren’t playing a part, just like her.
You have to stop.
She could picture his frown behind that silver mask, the crease deepening between those two-toned eyes.
What would he do now?
What would she do?
Whatever happened, it was worth it.
Lila got to her knees, frowning as a drop of blood hit the wooden floorboards. She touched her nose, then wiped the streak of red on her sleeve and got up.
She began to strip off Elsor’s clothes, ruined from Ver-as-Is’s assault and the subsequent match. Slowly she peeled away the weapons, and the fabric, then stared at herself in the mirror, half clothed, her body a web of fresh bruises and old scars.
A fire burned low in the hearth, a basin of cold water on the chest. Lila took her time getting clean and dry and warm, rinsing the darkening grease from her hair, the blood from her skin.
She looked around the room, trying to decide what to wear.
And then she had an idea.
A novel, dangerous idea, which was, of course, her favorite kind.
Maybe it’s time, she thought, to go to a ball.
* * *
“Rhy!” called Kell, the crowd parting around him. He’d shed the helmet and switched the coat, but his hair was still slicked with sweat, and he felt breathless.
“What are you doing here?” asked the prince. He was walking back to the palace, surrounded by an entourage of guards.
“It was her!” hissed Kell, falling in step beside him.
All around them, people cheered and waved, hoping to get so much as a glance or a smile from the prince. “Who was her?” Rhy asked, indulging the crowd.
“Stasion Elsor,” he whispered. “It was Lila.”
Rhy’s brow furrowed. “I know it’s been a long day,” he said, patting Kell’s shoulder, “but obviously—”
“I know what I saw, Rhy. She spoke to me.”
Rhy shook his head, the smile still fixed on his mouth. “That makes no sense. Tieren selected the players weeks ago.”
Kell looked around, but Tieren was conveniently absent. “Well, he didn’t select me.”
“No, but I did.” They reached the palace steps, and the crowd hung back as they climbed.
“I don’t know what to tell you—I don’t know if she is Elsor, or if she’s just posing as him, but the person I just fought back there, that wasn’t some magician from the countryside. That was Delilah Bard.”
“Is that why you lost so easily?” asked the prince as they reached the