“Have I served my purpose?” I asked. “Can we leave, now?”
“You’re very eager to retire, considering we’ll be sleeping in the same room from now on.” Vidrol was drinking again. His expression bored. “I didn’t think you were interested in those kinds of games.”
“I’m not.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Are you sure the five of you want to sleep on top of each other?”
“Not particularly,” Helki grunted, as Vidrol rolled his eyes.
“We saw to it that the bed would be big enough.” He downed his cup and motioned a steward to fill it again.
I cocked my head at him, noticing the grimace he hid behind his cup. Andel’s brow was furrowed as he stared at the pages of his book. Vale’s head was back in his hands again. Helki looked like he wanted to flip the table over. Fjor was frighteningly blank-faced. He wasn’t touching his food or drink.
They hated the idea of sleeping in that bed as much as I did.
“Why bother?” I asked, planting my hands against the table again.
It dipped a little, an apple toppling from a bowl in the centre to roll towards me. The dress was beginning to bruise my skin, even though my Vold magic was persisting. I could feel my flesh growing painfully tender.
“Do you really think I’ll invite someone else into my bed if you don’t crowd it?”
“The notion that you don’t wish to bed even one of us is even more unbelievable.” Vidrol’s eyes slipped over me, and I felt that his gaze was somehow creeping in-between the links in the gold dress to examine each inch of skin left bare by the short, silk underdress.
I scoffed, shaking my head. “So you’re all really that full of yourselves, you won’t allow me to be left alone with either one of you? This isn’t even about making sure I don’t develop any outside romantic entanglements. This is about making sure I don’t develop any inside romantic entanglements.” A bubble of sound escaped me, a tide of laughter spilling out of me without my permission. The table dipped a little further as I bent forward, and even some of the people at the edges of the hall perked up, bending their heads together in conversation as though something interesting was happening. The masters stared at me in a mixture of confusion and exasperation, but I couldn’t stop. I laughed until there were tears in my eyes and then I straightened, wiping them away.
“I’ve kissed you three damned times,” I accused, pointing my finger at Helki. “Once, because of a deal. The second you tricked me into, and the third was because Vidrol threw me at you—but all of those times were because of this.” I jerked the same finger back at myself, indicating the soul mark that cut through my lower lip. “I haven’t touched the rest of you. Not like that. What makes you think I’ll ever be able to stand any of you enough to sleep with you without the influence of my soul mark?”
Vidrol smiled—an annoying twist of the mouth that had my eyes narrowing. “Because nobody else will survive you, Tempest.”
Vale tilted his head up, his eyes back to their normal sea-blue colour, his mouth also tilted a little at the sides. I could see the hint of white teeth, bared like fangs.
“Your power is too great.” His roughened voice grated out the words, which had their usual shivering effect on my skin. “It’s why stewards don’t mate with sectorians. It’s why there are only five people in this world who can satisfy you. You’ll come to one of us eventually. Your power will yearn for ours.”
“The more powerful you grow, the further away from them you get.” Andel jerked his head to the side of the hall, without taking his eyes from the page before him. “And the closer you get to us.”
“It’s only natural,” Fjor promised, in such a bored way that for the barest of moments, in a bright flash of horror, I almost believed them.
“I’ll just have to endure until I’ve surpassed you all, then.” I pushed off the table, trying to hide my wince. I could feel a trickle of something slide down my shoulder that I hoped was sweat, and not blood. “Who does that leave me with?”
I arched a brow, trying to roll my shoulders back. They caved a little further inwards instead. The dress was growing too heavy, and my strength waned.
“The winner,” Fjor answered silkily, rising to his feet and tossing a cloth napkin to the table. “Your husband—who will be as endless as you on the eternal throne.”
I swallowed, glancing between them. I needed a break. From their riddles. From my sorrow. From the crushing weight of my dress.
“Have I served your purpose?” I asked again, my voice tight.
“For now.” Vidrol stood as well, followed by the other three.
A hush fell over the hall as Vidrol crossed the table to take my hand and draw it through his arm again. He lifted my arm as if it weighed no more than a feather, even though the long sleeve of the dress weighed it down. The five of us left the room without speaking to a single soul, and as soon as we were in the hall outside, I let my arm slip through Vidrol’s to fall heavily against my side.
“Take the dress off,” I demanded, turning and pulling my hair from my shoulder to bare the chain at my back.
“You’re bleeding,” Vidrol noted, almost curiously. “Your power might be vast, but your skin is mortal.”
“Thanks for the observation.” I clenched my teeth. “Now get it off.”
I jumped as an arm wound around me from behind. It was huge, the dusky skin of a muscle-corded forearm bare, a shirt sleeve folded carelessly up to the elbow. Helki. Suddenly, my chest grew tight and I blinked into a sudden darkness that popped back into a world of colour just as suddenly. The arm released me, and I fought to stay upright as the full weight of the dress returned to my shoulders.
We were in my new prison, the night sky glittering through the curtains that still billowed in through the open wall. The domed glass roofs were lit from within, casting glowing hues of amber and gold into the night. The moon was hidden, rising on the other side of the sky.
I turned, steeling myself at the sight of the five great masters standing opposite me. Nobody made a move to help me with my dress. Vale walked to the door leading to the staircase, flipping the lock. He took something from the pockets of his heavy black overcoat, twisting it around the door handle. It looked like a piece of twine.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“We know you snuck your friends in here,” Fjor answered, walking to the curtains. He caught the billowing silk in his hand, his dark eyes searching the shadowed mass of the ocean in the distance. “The artefact will keep out any unwanted visitors. We prefer our privacy.”
I shook my head, my legs wobbling with the effort to remain standing. I could hear my heartbeat again, that faint little skip, too fast to be normal. It battered against the silky, whispering energy that gripped it in a tight fist. I glanced at Vidrol, wondering if he could feel my weakness, wondering if he could feel the faltering pitter-patter of my magic slipping away from me.
“The dress,” I reminded him, my tone tight with anger. “You said all I had to do was ask.”
He smiled, that ever-mocking spark flickering through his eyes.
“Yes,” he agreed. “But you have to ask one of us. Choose. Who shall undress you tonight?”