Br?oska, House Orzechowska, and House Pacholska,” Ostyia said. “Ah, and dear lady ?aneta.” She pointed to a young woman who was resting against the far wall of the arena, watching the other four girls as they sparred.
“They’re all being so civil,” Serefin noted.
Ostyia rolled her eyes. “When they become anything else, I want you to remember they’re doing it for the crown, not you. Don’t let it go to your head, dear prince.”
“No, it’s all for me,” Serefin said with a wry smile.
?aneta noticed them sitting in the stands and waved, bowing smartly after. That got the attention of the other girls, who bowed as well. Serefin waved a hand.
“Don’t mind me,” he called down.
He knew House Láta and Orzechowska were prominent blood mage families, but he was less sure about the other two.
?aneta pushed herself off the wall and climbed the steps. Serefin felt his gaze follow her as if magnetized. Before his father’s announcement, Serefin had been quite confident ?aneta would be Tranavia’s next queen. Now, she would have to fight her way to the throne.
Her mass of dark auburn curls was tied back, throwing her tawny skin and refined features into sharp focus. There was a streak of blood smeared on the coat she wore over her dress.
Her mother was a noble from Akola, and ?aneta had her dark coloring. Her nose had a graceful hook to it that on anyone else might seem hawkish, but which looked regal on her. Her lips twisted into a smile as she neared Serefin.
“Your Highness,” she said. Her voice had the barest hint of smoke to it, breathy and dark.
“Lady Ruminska,” he replied, swinging around on the railing so he could stand. He took her outstretched hand and pressed it to his lips.
“Ugh, house name and everything,” she said. “You leave for a few years and all my hard work goes to waste.”
“?aneta,” he amended with a smile.
“Better.” She stepped back, turning to the arena seats and a pile of the girls’ discarded things. She picked up her belt and strapped it around her hips, attaching her spell book. “Did you get back this morning?”
“Yes, and I’ve already been thoroughly scolded by my father and discussed sensitive matters with a Vulture.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “So busy so soon and without a drink in your hand; war has changed you, Serefin.” She picked up a heavily jeweled mask and let it hang from her fingers as she leaned over the railing. “Good luck to you, my dears,” she called down. “Blood and bones will they need luck,” she continued under her breath, turning back.
“The competition not up to your standards?” Serefin asked as he fell into step beside her. He tried to overtake her pace so it didn’t seem as though he was trailing along behind her. He wasn’t certain he succeeded.
“Is it ever?” She flipped the mask between her fingers before attaching it to her belt. “It’s good to see you, and under such ideal circumstances.”
Serefin found he couldn’t agree with her on the circumstances, but at the very least he was away from the front. The likelihood of his death was about the same as it ever was, after all.
“Tell me something good, ?aneta,” Serefin said as they walked through the gardens. “I have had nothing but bad news for years now.”
“I’m going to catch you up on all of the best court gossip,” she said. “You’ve missed so much! Did you know that Nikodem Stachowicz was caught in the palace archives with the youngest Osadik boy?”
“Don’t those families—”
“Hate each other? And have been locked in a feud for three generations? Yes!”
Serefin laughed, and for the first time in what felt like years, he let himself relax.
16
NADEZHDA
LAPTEVA
There are no ancient records of the goddess of light, Zvonimira. There are whispers, rumors, threads of truth or fiction that say that she is the youngest in the pantheon, but who truly knows how the gods come to be? Like Alena, Zvonimira has never bestowed her powers upon a chosen cleric.
—Codex of the Divine, 36:117
“Blood magic has become universally ingrained into daily Tranavian life. Without it, the whole country would collapse.”
Nadya had spent the morning letting Malachiasz’s words filter slowly through one ear and out the other. It wasn’t that she wasn’t paying attention—she was all too aware how vital it was she not misstep while deeply entrenched at court—but it was so much information all at once.
His words made her pause. “How is that possible?”
He shrugged, burying his tattooed hands in