who’s at fault here.”
The Sovereign stopped his pacing, his one-eyed glare on Leila.
She raised her chin. “I made my feelings clear.”
“I won’t stand for this. You’ve made a mockery of this tournament,” he spat. “And what, you were down there? Healing them?”
“Seemed only fair considering how much you’ve tortured them.”
“Oh, don’t you play that game with me, you little shit.” His voice came out in a hiss. “This has nothing to do with those men. Nothing.”
Leila kept quiet, straightening her back as if to seem taller, but Tobias’s gut churned when her hands trembled.
“This ends now.” The Sovereign leaned in close, his face a furious shade of red. “That is an order.”
Leila gritted her teeth. “No.”
“It ends now!”
“You can control the tournament, but you cannot control how we choose to participate—”
“Dammit, you selfish bitch—”
The Sovereign flung his hand into the air, prepared to strike her, and Tobias barreled through the doorway. “Excuse me.”
The room went still. Leila gaped at Tobias in horror, while the Sovereign’s glare was more heated than ever.
“Apologies, I think I’m lost,” Tobias lied. “Which way is the atrium again?”
Silence—until Cosima smiled. “Just down the corridor and to the right, dove.”
“Thank You.” Tobias’s feet remained rooted to the floor, his gaze locked on the Sovereign.
“You heard Her.” The Sovereign cocked his head at the doorway. “Atrium’s on the right.”
Tobias’s eyes darted between the women. “Is something going on here?”
“None of your concern,” the Sovereign said.
Tobias didn’t waver, and the Sovereign’s glare became scathing. “Go, Artist.”
“I’d rather stay.”
“Leave.”
Tobias glanced over the women once more, sickened by Leila’s drawn expression. He turned to Cosima. “Your Holiness, are You all right? You look uncomfortable.”
“I’m fine, Artist. You’re so kind to ask. My father was actually just leaving.” She looked up at the Sovereign. “Isn’t that right?”
The Sovereign stared back at Her, aghast. He opened his mouth to speak, or yell, or scream—and then he stopped himself, falling back into a state of contained rage. He leaned into Cosima, wagging a finger in Her face.
“You and I will exchange words.”
Leila’s eyes widened. “But—”
“But nothing.”
With a huff, he stormed from the room, knocking Tobias in the shoulder.
Cosima cleared Her throat. “Well then, I should be off now.” She made Her way to the door, giving Tobias’s hand a squeeze before She left. “It was delightful to see you, as always.”
Pippa scampered after Her, not daring to look Tobias in the eye. Lingering for a moment, Delphi whispered into Leila’s ear before scuttling from the room.
“Thank you,” she said as she passed.
Only Leila remained, her face buried in her palms.
“Leila…” Tobias rushed toward her. “Are you all right?”
She stared up at him, panicked. “How much of that did you hear?”
“How much did I hear? Leila, the Sovereign was going to hit you.”
“God…” She rubbed at her temples, still shaking. “I have to go—”
“Wait. I’ve tried not to press the issue, but you need to tell me what’s going on.”
“Tobias—”
“What’s happening?” he maintained. “You’ve said you’re in danger. That the Sovereign’s mad—that you’re putting an end to his Senators. And now this?” He leaned in closer. “I have all these pieces, and none of them fit together. Help me put them together.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“You don’t understand. Everything has become infinitely worse, and I don’t have time for this.” Her breathing wavered. “I have to… I have to fix this—”
“Leila—”
“I’m sorry, I have to go.”
“Leila, please—”
She pushed past him, leaving him alone with his racing thoughts and the smell of her perfume.
Tobias spun his uneaten apple on the table, gazing through the whirls of green. The other men were lost in their chatter, while he obsessed over the scene from the other night, putting together pieces that didn’t fit.
Leila has secrets.
He had known this for weeks, had thought he’d come to terms with it, but the more convoluted her story became, the more his patience waned.
He leaned back in his seat and pushed aside his untouched meal. The atrium buzzed as servants prepared for some royal banquet, the first of many, but most of them stared at Tobias, not hiding their scrutiny. Faun scurried to the tableside, and Tobias smiled at her only for her to look away.
“Gentlemen.” Her voice was low and somber. “It’s time for your challenge.”
The men stood from their seats, following her from the atrium. Orion glanced at Tobias and shrugged. “She seems a bit grim, doesn’t she?”
It wasn’t just Faun. The entire palace had shifted overnight, the air thin and stale. Servant girls bustled past, the ones who used to