I sat on a small bench at the end of my bed, my hands shaking too hard to hold the glass of wine Parthenia offered me. She took it away and placed it on the side table.

The High Priestess stood before me. “Breathe, my dear. Take a deep, long breath.”

I tried to do as she said, but again and again, the scenes from the arena replayed in my head. The boy’s eyes turned scarlet, matching the blood pouring from the hateful red gash in his throat. The sand was wet—sticky with blood. But even worse than that was the end. When I loudly and publicly saved an enemy’s life.

“They know what I did. They all know. There were thousands in the arena . . . And Varian . . . Oh, gods, he must hate me.”

Gentle hands drifted over my hair. “Hush, now, dear one. This is not your fault. You were overwhelmed. If anyone is to blame, it is me. Perhaps I shouldn’t have allowed you to spend so much time in the infirmary. I thought it would harden you to bloodshed, but it seems to have only made you more sensitive to it.”

“I’ve seen blood and death aplenty. But this was different.”

She sighed. “If you’d called out when the deaths first began . . . or in reaction to any other competitor. But the Lord of Myridia? Why him?”

“I didn’t think.”

“Cleary,” Parthenia said beneath her breath.

Sibyl shot her an annoyed glance. Without her headdress, her blonde curls stood around her face in an unruly halo. “You had the Emperor’s favor, Aurora. Now . . . Well, that favor might prove difficult to win back.”

“He is a son of Ares,” I said. “If anyone can keep the flames of anger banked hot, it’s him.”

“What’s done is done. There is nothing for it now but to go forward. Just . . . behave, my dear. At least until you are safely mated. Until that power of yours is safely in the General Prince’s hands.”

Fear settled within me. “You think it’s too much for me to hold alone.”

“I know it is. That is why we have these Trials. You know the stories, my girl. You know what happens to Korai who are not mated. Is that a fate you want?”

Madness: Mydia, the child killer; Syrsee, the witch; Helena, who was still said to roam the mountains looking for victims.

"No. Of course, it’s not.”

The annals ran red with the names of Korai with too much untamed power. Perhaps the High Priestess was right. Perhaps the unease that had spread through me like poison since the night of the feast was the first sign of my power growing too much for me to control.

Sibyl sighed. “You know, my dear, we didn’t always have these Trials. Early in our history, the Korai knew a power that allowed them to find their own mates. But things changed for a reason. It was after Helena disappeared. She had found her own mate. But the male was too weak to control her magic. And without anyone to challenge him before the bond was truly cemented . . . death followed. Death and darkness.”

I straightened, the sharp edge of my anxiety dulled by surprise. “What do you mean she found her own mate? How? What happened to him?”

“He was killed. But in Helena’s case, it was too late to find another mate. Their bond was too strong, so strong that even his death wasn’t enough to sever it.” Sibyl pasted a smile on her face. “But that’s all in the past. As is the First Trial. Let us look forward, shall we? Soon, Varian will win you and everything will end happily. You’ll go to the capital and never have another worry.”

I answered with a tight smile and a wordless nod, though so many thoughts crowded my mind that I couldn't pick a single one to focus on. No Trials? Korai finding their own mates? These were stories I had never heard.

When the High Priestess finally took her leave, Parthenia again offered me the wine. I took it and drank deeply. My hands steadied.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“For what?”

“To stop sulking and put your armor on.”

“What are you talking about?”

“A male has his steel and iron. We have our armor too. And for tonight . . . I think I know just the thing.”

And what fine armor it was. Parthenia had traded the gold of the arena for a vision of black silk. It was undeniably beautiful, even if its color did not fit a Korai who couldn’t summon more than an ounce of the moon goddess’ power. Black and flowing, it fell from my waist like a waterfall of shimmering darkness. Gleaming gemstones spread across the fabric like a star-studded sky. The panels covering my breasts rose up from the high empire-waist in two gem-encrusted moons.

If the first gown of the day had been fit for the promise of dawn, the evening’s gown was nocturnal triumph.

Parthenia finished off the look by painting my eyelids a smoky black and my lips a deep, sensual red. She stood behind the dressing table, hands busy plaiting my hair. I relaxed into her touch, her fingers soothing as they moved against my scalp.

“So, are you going to tell me why you did it?” she asked.

My eyes shot to the mossy green of her gaze in the mirror. “I didn’t mean to.”

Parthenia snorted, though her hands kept working, pinning my hair into a braided crown. “Oh, aye.” She stuck the final pin into place. “Yet in all that bloody chaos, you cried out only when the Myridian was at risk. There were plenty of others who could have used the help. Plenty will lay on the pyre tonight, the boatman’s toll heavy on their eyes.”

“Parthenia—”

“Tell me . . . What did you think of Varian’s showing? Did you count his kills or were your eyes only for Aidoneus?”

I kept my silence, trying to keep the hot anger rising within me smoored.

“If you think I don’t know how affected you were today, you’re more foolish than I thought. That boy—”

“Enough!” My hands slammed down upon the dressing table. Cosmetics scattered. A bottle of perfume crashed to the floor. The glass shattered and the air filled with the overwhelming scent of lavender.

Parthenia’s hands went to her hips. “Are you going to clean up after yourself, or must I?”

With my anger so close to the surface, it took less than a thought. A flick of my fingers and the perfume flared bright and brief, burning away into the Ether from whence the magic came, though the scattered glass remained. I bent, picking up the red-hot shards as if they were as cool as ice. I tossed them into the silver tray that had held the perfume bottle and took a calming breath.

“Did you have a point, Parthenia, or do you just enjoy getting a rise out of me?”

She watched me in the mirror for a long moment. “Only curious. It isn’t every day a Dorian saves the life of an enemy.”

“What do I know of Doria or its enemies? I’ve never left the walls of this city.”

Parthenia gave my hair a yank. “Pretty little fool. You plan to marry Varian. If Aidoneus is his enemy, that makes him yours as well. Unless your plans have changed, of course...”

“Nothing has changed!”

As soon as the words left my lips, rot bloomed on my tongue. A lie. And of course, it was a lie. More had changed than I cared to think about.

I sighed. Parthenia was right. Aidoneus was my enemy. I chewed on my painted lip. Had it only been hours since the Trial? It felt like years, and the night’s own trials had yet to begin.

“More wine, please. I think I’m going to need it.”