Though he knew they weren't fair, he couldn’t prevent the next words from spilling through his lips, because fair or not, true or not, he needed his mother, his sovereign, to understand. “The first trial is archery, correct? What would you have me do, Mother? Step to the line and pull a bowstring with my teeth?”
“That’s only one of the tests,” she said, but not fast enough—not before her gaze dropped to his right hand, or his lack thereof.
His phantom fingers were curled into a fist, holding all his anger, keeping it out of sight. Sometimes he liked to believe that was what had happened—not that he lacked a limb, but that all his hate and fury and pain were balled into a fist so tight, he couldn’t undo it. That his fingers were wrapped so forcefully they’d molded into his skin, they’d trapped themselves, but trapped all those emotions there as well. For the most part, he was happy and positive and cheerful. Only at times like this, when he remembered the fist, did those dark thoughts creep out of hiding.
“What of the navigation trial? What of that?” the queen asked, trying to find his eyes. Xander faced forward, stubbornly refusing to look at her. “You’d be far superior to your brother at that. He may be a fighter, but he lacks the endurance of the hunt.”
“He might not win all the trials,” Xander conceded before he went for the kill, an argument his mother wouldn’t know how to refute. “No one can. But there’s a difference, Mother. A huge one. Rafe might not win all the trials, but when he loses, he will do so with dignity. He won’t turn the ravens into the laughingstock of the seven houses. He won’t be a joke.”
“Lysander!” Queen Mariam snapped, no longer dancing around her son as she grabbed him by the shoulders, spinning him toward her. “Is that what you think? Don’t for a second. You would never, never—”
“Stop it,” he interrupted, pushing her away. “I’m not saying it out of shame or vanity. I’ve come to terms with my strengths and my weaknesses. And our people have, too. But you cannot expect that from the rest of them, from the world outside our sheltered, secretive island. People can be cruel, as you yourself know.” She bit her tongue at that, luminous eyes dimming with silent pain for them both. Xander softened his tone, “It’s not about me, Mother. It’s about our people. There will be five crown princes competing in the trials, but only four second daughters. One house will be left unmatched in the end, and it can’t be us, not again. Our people need a good omen. They need to stop worrying we’ve lost favor with the gods, that we’re being cast out. They need a win. And I’m not too proud to admit that I can’t give them that. But Rafe can.”
His mother lifted her slightly wrinkled palm to his cheek, rubbing her thumb along its ridge. As her hand fell away, her features hardened. “Not if he’s dead.”
Xander stepped back as though he’d been struck, off balance and off kilter even as he knew in his soul it couldn't be true.
The door to his room slammed open.
“My queen, my prince, pardon the intrusion,” the guard stammered as Helen forced her way through the door, face grim.
Xander had never been more grateful for an interruption in his life. He nodded to the guard before addressing his captain, “Do you have news from the House of Peace, Helen?”
“They’ve given us a day,” she said, spitting that last word as though it were a curse, not bothering with titles or pleasantries. “The king says it would be an affront to Aethios to postpone the courtship trials any further. They plan to squeeze the tests into smaller time increments so we can still hold the matching ceremony on the summer solstice, as is tradition.” She collapsed into one of the chairs, grabbed an apple from the table, and turned to the queen. “I didn’t realize you’d be in here, but it makes my life a little easier.”
“I’m trying to convince my son that the delay isn’t necessary,” his mother said, raising her tone at the end in a silent question.
Helen’s gaze moved to Xander.
When he had first raised the idea of switching places with Rafe for the courtship trials, she’d been his biggest supporter, helping to convince his mother’s older, more rigid advisors to loosen their adherence to the rules. Helen never held her tongue. She didn’t worry about hurting his feelings. Her focus was on the house. On keeping it safe. On keeping it strong. And it was the thing he appreciated most about her—it was the reason he’d appointed her as captain of the guards and unofficial advisor to the crown prince when his mother had told him to step in and start taking charge of the kingdom he would one day rule. They were of like minds and not afraid of making tough decisions.
But in this instance, Xander used the oldest technique in the book to save Helen from the unnecessary wrath of the queen. He changed the subject. “Are the patrols back yet? Did they find anything?”
“There’s no sign of your brother, aside from what we found at the bridge,” Helen said matter-of-factly, not even attempting to lessen the blow. “No more bloodstains, no more feathers, no body. Nothing. The teams came back completely empty-handed.”
“What’s our next move?”
She lifted the apple to her lips and sank her teeth into it, ripping out a bite. Xander narrowed his eyes as she chewed.
She’s delaying.
Why is she delaying?
Before he had a chance to ask, Helen swallowed and sat up. “I think in this instance your mother might be right. You need to prepare for the trials.”
Xander’s invisible fist clenched so tightly, his right arm started trembling. “I refuse to believe that’s the case.”
And Helen refused to back down. “We searched the area—”
“Search it again. Someone was there. I saw the print in the blood. You did too.”
Her eyes softened the slightest bit.
Xander hated to see it, hated the concession, because he saw it for what it really was—pity.
“Even if someone was there, even if someone recovered his body,” Helen continued, voice forceful despite the subtle shift in her expression, “Rafe will be in no shape to compete in the courtship trials, which are being delayed only a single day. You saw the blood, same as I did. If he’s alive somewhere, he’s hanging on by a thread. He’ll have no time to recover. I’ll keep sending search parties day and night until you order me to stop, but that doesn’t change the fact that you, my prince, will be representing the House of Whispers in the courtship trials, whether you want to or not.”
Xander opened his mouth but shut it quickly, swallowing his counterargument. Revealing the truth would be even more dangerous than letting them believe his brother was dead. In fact, it would most likely kill him. And Xander knew in his heart that Rafe was alive somewhere out there on that frozen tundra, waiting for him.
“I’m going to join the search party tomorrow.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Helen said. “You have one day to prepare for tests we never thought you’d face. Leave your brother to me.”
Holding his captain’s gaze, Xander didn't blink or back down. “You were right. I am the Crown Prince of the House of Whispers. And I will be joining the search party tomorrow.”