I’d have to check with the speaker of the trials on the first three rules when she was done reading the script.
“Ambassador Esme Von Rouche,” a woman called from the front of the audience. “I have a question. What do you think—”
That’s when I realized the press was in the room, and these trials would be televised, which made me think of the planet Llade 88. That species had also been crazy about reality TV shows.
I spotted three cameras run by three full crews—one from a balcony, one by the podium where Esme stood, and one shooting from the front. I drank in the situation and shrank further toward a sidewall, squeezing in and wiggling between bodies, evoking nasty glares and snarls. I simply responded with smiles.
An assassin would never put herself in a vulnerable, open position.
The name Esme Von Rouche triggered a memory. Lucifer had mentioned her. She was Loki’s agent but had infiltrated the demigods-controlled academy and served as its headmistress for many terms. She’d been Marigold’s guardian once.
I took in her scent even from a distance—a hybrid mage and a distant descendant of Athena, the Goddess of War and Wisdom.
“Hold your thoughts.” Esme raised an elegant finger, power in her voice. She wouldn’t allow anyone to sidetrack her. The reporter staggered back two steps. The hybrid mage had just demonstrated that she ran the show, not them. “There will be an opportunity for questions after I finish briefing the contestants on all the rules.”
The contestants consisted of over a thousand armed women packed into the enormous hall. This was fucking insane, but then again every girl dreamt of being a princess, or even better, a queen.
From my secure corner, I studied my future opponents—all different species and races. I identified shifters, Fae, demonesses, vampires, witches, and valkyries from my fugitive years fleeing from one realm to another. I couldn’t make out some species, but they also looked damn intimidating. At least one-third of the contestants appeared to be career fighters, judging from their stance, their gear, and the scowls on their hard faces.
Loki must be proud that he could attract so many women to fight to the death over him.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” a demoness hissed at me.
She was ugly—asymmetrical eyes, a flat nose with several rings that were too large even for her big face, and thick lips curled up in a leer. It didn’t matter how she looked though; she had as much right to be in the trials as anyone else. Being pretty wasn’t a requirement for entering the trials. And if she was the last one standing, she could be queen to the Demon King.
From the swaggering attitude of the demonesses, it wasn’t hard to conclude that they were all trying hard to remind the females of other species that Hell was their territory.
I flashed a smirk at the demoness. “You’ve got spinach between your teeth.”
“I’m not even a vegetarian!” she growled, but she unsheathed a dagger and checked out her big front teeth on the shiny blade, then she snapped her eyes to me. “I’ll eat you in the games.”
“No kidding,” I said.
A demon guard at the back entrance snarled at both of us for talking. We quieted, but not before the demoness tossed me another threatening stare, marking me as her quarry. I offered her a sparkling smile that displayed my pearly white and even teeth.
I loved to smile at my adversaries to encourage myself that things were looking up before I killed them.
During my brief interaction with the demoness, Esme had moved on to the middle of rule number five.
“After the first trial, weapons are allowed,” she pronounced. “Here’s the last rule: there’ll be no rules in the final trial. Magic, weaponry, poison, spells, potions, assassinations are all welcome and encouraged. Do whatever you need to win the crown, ladies. The Queen of the Underworld is supposed to do whatever it takes to get what she wants, to win the King of the Underworld, the hottest bachelor!”
The audience roared, pumping their fists, and two cameras panned over the bloodthirsty female fighters.
Esme smiled viciously and raised a fist, and the cheers faded in the hall.
“The Bride Trials are bound by magic,” she continued. “You’re being offered two chances to stay alive. Walk away now and nothing will happen to you. Or you can proceed to the first trial and take your chances. Once in the arena, things can happen fast and get bad quickly. You might be damaged, maimed, or even killed before you can surrender and leave the game.” She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in, and grinned at hearing heavy breaths, rasps, nervous shuffling, and bloodthirsty curses breaking out in the room.
“After the first trial, you won’t be able to quit. It’ll be either death or a fight to the end.” Esme finished her speech. “Ladies, decide your own fate now.”
A quarter of the contestants stirred, probably deciding to opt out after hearing the looming hardships. As the crowd shifted, I spotted Veronica, the vampire princess, at the front, as she turned to glare at her rivals behind her.
Her creamy face was pinched with cruelty, her hazel eyes brimming with violence as they assessed those outside her circle like a vulture. She’d recruited over a dozen vampires to aid her, and they would make sure she went to the top.
When she told Loki that she was going to erase everyone from the trials to reach the crown and ride him day and night, she’d meant business.
The vampire princess was dressed in red leather, her flashy outfit already declaring war. I, on the other hand, hunched my shoulders in my gray armor designed to pass as plain clothes.
I’d eventually cross paths with Veronica, but not now. Not today.
They had their rules, and I had mine.
And I would stick to rule number three: don’t stand out before three-quarters of the contestants are eliminated.
I also had an amendment of rule number three point five: don’t look too strong but don’t look meek either.
In a contest that involved mob attacks, the most powerful party would always take out the next strongest unit, and the weak groups would pick on the weaker.
As Veronica continued to scan the crowd, I stooped behind a broad-shouldered shifter to stay out of the vampire girl’s sight. But soon I realized my mistake and immediately corrected my course and moved to stand behind a tall Fae instead.
Shifters didn’t like anyone to get too close to their backs. That shifter woman would surely challenge me and not mind making a scene if I didn’t move away, but the more reserved female Fae might just tolerate me if I didn’t pose a threat.
I let my elemental ice magic leak out and let my faint Fae scent linger for a few seconds to let that Fae lady have a whiff. I had royal Fae blood in me that had diverted from Earth Fae an eon ago.
The Fae glanced at me over her shoulder, her face lovely, her figure willowy, and her blue eyes calculating. There were less than a handful of Fae amid over a thousand contestants, so there was no reason to mark me out as her first enemy. Plus, she wasn’t even a pureblooded Fae. Pureblooded Fae stuck to their own kind and looked down their noses at other species.
She offered me a cold but curious look before turning to gaze at the heartthrob. I didn’t blame her. It wasn’t every day you got to meet the King of the Underworld, and he’d just stepped onto the terrace overlooking the grand hall, drawing all eyes to him.