CHAPTER SEVEN:
The Tournament

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After awaking the next day—night, as I had yet to get used to—I knocked on Sky's door, only to find that she'd already risen and left.

Of course, I understood that my sneaking off to find the princes without her yesterday was hurtful. I couldn't blame her for doing the same to me in return, but it still brought a twinge to my chest.

Taking a deep breath, I returned to my room and swiftly got dressed. There were more important things than my feelings that demanded attention.

Prince Seokjin was the first noble I crossed paths with. In fact, I was rounding a corner to one of the corridors in the Grand Palace when I slammed right into his broad, exposed chest.

His chuckle was melodic as every sound he made seemed to be. The deep blue of his eyes shimmered as he watched me hold my nose and step back. "Your timing is impeccable, Moon."

It was rare for me to feel true embarrassment, but I nearly did with how intently he gazed upon me.  Was he waiting for an apology? I straightened my posture and gave a light smile. "My apologies."

His lips twitched upward, eyes darting over my face. "You're not sorry. And you shouldn't be. I was hoping I might find you before the tournament anyway."

Apparently, I had to work on my expressions if I wanted to be more convincing. How had he so easily known I wasn't sorry?

"Tournament?" I echoed. "What for?"

"The King called for it. We have one any time he is in need of a new Gratori. Whomever is the last standing earns the right to be sworn to His Greatness' side for life."

An image of the black-armored warrior dashing in front of the King to take on the strike of Seeva's lightning flashed in my head. He had died instantly, leaving the ruler without a trusted bodyguard.

"When does it start?"

The Teseran grinned before walking past me, and I admired the elegant, pale blue braid cascading down his back. He began to whistle, and I felt the slightest tug guiding me to follow him.

"Soon. And lucky for you, there's a seat with your name on it."

Not but a few minutes later, Seokjin had led me to the second floor of the palace and onto the expansive front balcony. I stayed near his side, hoping to blend in as I noticed not many Alfir were there. Only a few, all of whom accompanied Trians.

At the front center of the balcony was a throne gilded in silver, with detailed carvings on the back of elves and animals, winding vines and tree branches. The art was unexpectedly serene for being a symbol of the infamous king's power.

Seokjin brought me with him near the right side of the balcony, a small distance away from most of the other princes. We took a seat on one of the stone benches, and I finally had a chance to take in the view before us.

There was a crowd of at least a couple hundred surrounding the outskirts of the courtyard, and Dethali lined all four sides to keep the crowd at bay. Dozens of orbs of blue fire floated all above the ground, yet the light wasn't quite enough to aid my vision against the dark of night.

"Here," the prince beside me murmured, and I turned to face him, finding him holding his hand up. Vahna swirled slowly around his fingers, and I closed my eyes and let him brush the essence over my eyelids like Jimin had the evening prior. "I see you've done this before," he noted, to which I did not reply.

"Thank you," I said, breathless once again at how clearly it allowed me to see. I returned my gaze to the courtyard, scanning some of the warriors who had lined up at the front to face their King. My hearts skipped when I spotted Yoongi.

Of course he was participating. It was perfectly logical: win the tournament, earn the excuse to stick close to the King's side, find an opportunity to kill him.

I shouldn't have been surprised, and I wasn't, really. But the fact that he may have been closer to his goal than me sent my brain into a desperate frenzy.

He can't win. You must do something to keep him from victory, otherwise he'll kill the King and you won't be able to keep your promise to Seeva.

After Yoongi's threat the night before, I spent time running over my plan again and again. I'd asked myself if I shouldn't just join forces with him anyways and let the kingdom fall into chaos. Perhaps the next in line to the throne would make change that mattered—but I knew that wouldn't happen. The likelihood that whoever gained rule next would be just as terrible, or worse, was too great a possibility. And the poorer areas of Idaea stood the chance of falling into deeper poverty in the midst of such uncertainty. Seeva realized it with his dying breath, with the thought of our fallen comrades in his heart. It was safer and smarter for me to influence the present King using my gift. The opportunity hadn't been there until the King took a liking to me, and I couldn't let that opening be wasted.

As much as I wished it could be different, Yoongi was my rival now, and I had to do everything possible to stop him.

"Moon?"

My brows rose as I looked at the Prince beside me. "Hm?"

"I asked if you're cold. The temperature will continue to drop as it gets later, and you're not exactly covered up," he commented, glancing at the silver dress I had on.

"Oh," I laughed, "I'm so used to being out in the blazing sun, I forget how cool the nights are in Idaea." It was a lie, of course. Curfew was indeed before nightfall, but our cabin could never effectively ward off the cold. I simply aimed to give Seokjin a reason to continue flirting.

And he did. Smoothly, he took off his outer robe that was made of cobalt and gold-colored silk, and meeting my eyes once for my permission, he waited for my nod before standing up and helping me to slip both arms through the sleeves. The soft material was heavenly against my skin, and though it wasn't practical against the cold, I still felt beyond satisfied. I could sense the stares on my back—it certainly wasn't usual for a prince to so easily and publicly share his belongings with a lower elf, let alone a halfling. If I could continue to maintain his favor, Seokjin seemed to be my best shot at making it through the Gleaning.

"Moon."

Instant chills over my nape and down my back, all in response to his voice. I turned to face the masked elf who reclined in his throne. He let the pause linger. Knowingly allowed my nerves to build.

"Come sit beside me."

I did as he asked, hating that I couldn't tell what he was thinking but loving that I had likely just become even more desirable to the high elves who watched.

I wasn't sure what it was that the nobles were so interested in, but I hoped to keep it up.

Taehyung was sitting closest to the throne, and he stood and moved to the opposite side so I could take his place. On the edge of the bench, I was between the King and Jimin. Hoseok sat on the other side of Jimin, which told me that Jungkook was the current bearer of the crown.

I had to wonder if his calling me was of his own accord, or if somehow the True King—if it wasn't Jungkook—had ordered it.

"You really like to push your luck, don't you?" Jimin whispered, though he kept facing forward.

His comment made me frown. Was I not supposed to interact with the princes in front of the King? Seokjin was the one who knowingly flaunted that he was with me. Jungkook had done the same the night before.

Instead of questioning Jimin's meaning, I turned to the King. "Your Greatness, might I ask why you summoned me?"

His ink-colored hair was worn down, and I was still surprised at how his visible features were the exact same despite it being a different prince behind the mask.

His face angled toward me, and though his words were playful, his expression lacked the lightness to match. "I was tired of watching you from afar. It is much more comfortable looking at you when you're closer to me and farther from my eager brother."

I was at a loss for how to feel. Was Jungkook the one speaking or was he being told what to say by the real ruler?

Before I could reply, the King laughed quietly and then he was standing. The rest of the elves also rose, and I followed suit.

"Tonight marks a new beginning," the King spoke, projecting his smooth voice which also sounded the same as every other impostor. "The bond between a Gratori and his King is greater than one can put into words, and the loss of that connection is severe. The warrior who earns the title tonight will not be replacing any of the previous Gratori—he or she will be resuming the duty that the fallen could no longer carry on... During battle, the use of gifts is strictly forbidden. The last fighter standing will immediately swear his lifelong fealty to me and will be rewarded with royal treatment."

A lingering pause, then he raised his chin. "May the tournament begin."

Sparking from his words, a building rhythm of drums rumbled, and I watched as the participants—sixteen of them in total— went to stand at equal distances around the sun and moon symbol carved into the stone at their feet. Each of them stood tall, some unmoving in their spots, others trailing their fingers along their weapons. None stepped forward.

"How do they know when to start?" I quietly asked Jimin.

He seemed amused as he replied, "They already have. It's just a matter of who will act first."

"What other rules are there besides the exclusion of gifts?"

It was the King who answered, catching my eye when I turned to face him. "That is the sole rule. The rest is up to them."

Before I could inquire further, the clang of steel rang out. My head whipped back to the makeshift arena, seeing two fighters—a tall woman and a burly man—cross their swords. As they began circling each other, another pair of warriors jumped into battle. I held my breath as a younger, muscular elf approached Yoongi.

The assassin hadn't drawn his weapon yet, only staring at his challenger with his hands behind his back. As the elf came closer and lunged with his curved dagger, Yoongi stepped aside and dodged the blow. The boy swung again, and Yoongi leaned back to narrowly miss the swipe a second time. He played with his opponent a while longer, then eventually slipped under one of his strikes and sent the elf staggering out of balance. Yoongi's hand reached behind his own head, smoothly pulling out a black polearm that was strapped at an angle across his back. One end of the nightmarish weapon had a small, simple blade while the other end had a larger, sickled blade much like a scythe. I'd missed the weapon entirely as it had melted into the darkness of night.

The assassin wielded the polearm effortlessly, as if every movement had been practiced a thousand times beforehand. The weapon kissed the tips of his fingers as it spun, and I was convinced it was alive and breathing and was the one guiding its holder.

A sneaking viper, Yoongi flourished the pole between his hands like a warning hiss before one swipe at his challenger's feet knocked him onto his back. As the young elf gasped to get his breath back, Yoongi held the end of the weapon to his throat, the sharp blade pressing into his skin.

I straightened to the edge of my seat. Without thinking, I stretched my reach to slip into Yoongi's mind which was left wide open. Immediately, I was weighed down by whirling echoes—voices that were too frantic and mixed to make any sense of. Yoongi's presence was faint and difficult to find, and I realized he was reaching out to every warrior in that arena, listening to all of them at once, and the echoes were of every thought he heard. I had never listened to even just two people at the same time, and he was taking on a dozen minds simultaneously. His own thoughts were so quiet below the storm, but I caught onto his hesitation right before he kicked the elf in the jaw, sending his head into the ground with a hard thud. He was unconscious, but I relaxed. Yoongi could have killed him and chose not to.

Just a kid, I heard him mumble between the flurry of voices. But then his presence seemed to still, drawing away slightly from the minds around him to focus inward. I could feel his consciousness brush up against mine, felt the brief amusement that he swiftly disguised as irritation.

Get out.

Pretend I'm not here, I answered cheekily, knowing he didn't have the ability to shove me out. Not when he was split amongst so many heads.

Don't make me ask nicely. As he swayed between focusing on me and the fighters around him, I watched him straighten and search for his next victim, recognizing the analytical burn of his eyes as they took in the state of each warrior.

I scoffed. The Scorch will freeze over before you ask me something nicely.

He turned his face to spot an approaching enemy, allowing me to see the upward tilt of his mouth. It vanished before most would ever see.

Why are you here?

One of the many voices grew more prominent in his head, mutterings of different steps they would make to take Yoongi down. I was amazed at how he could magnify the most important voice but still hear the others in the background. It went to show how serious he was about winning, disallowing any chance of being snuck up on.

Prince Seokjin invited me—

Not that. Why are you invading my head? He paused, side-stepping a blow from his opponent which he easily saw coming. He waited to hear their next plan of attack, then parried the strike and pushed against their blade with his pole.  I thought we agreed not to cross that line anymore.

You made it very clear last night that we aren't on the same side. Why should I honor any agreement with you after the threat you made?

He went quiet, and though he was busy twirling his weapon then hitting the sword out of his target's hands, I felt him recalling our words from last night. Heard his own voice repeat from the memory: "If it comes to that, I won't hesitate to kill more than one king."

If you're willing to kill me if I gain control of the King, should I not do everything I can to keep you from ever getting the chance? I posed the question carefully.

Again, he stayed silent. I watched him move like wind; a powerful force, yet untouchable.

I jolted in my seat when the speared end of his weapon sliced through the elf's gut. He keeled over and clutched his abdomen, crimson dripping between his fingers.

Should I not do everything I can to keep you from ever being in a position where I might harm you?

I took a moment to shake off the sensation of that blade piercing through skin before replying to him. Don't pretend you're trying to beat me to the King so you don't have to kill me. You don't care one way or the other.

Perhaps I'm not as bad a person as you think me to be, little fox.

Says the one who admonished me for cheating in a street game while he cheats in a royal tournament.

He didn't physically laugh, but I could feel it there. That warm, almost-glow softly wrapping around me like the silks upon my shoulders. The voices he listened to dulled to whispers, as though he became too caught up in this fleeting, shared moment between us. I'd never experienced such a sensation while being in someone's head, and I knew it was all to do with the connection that came from sharing this gift of ours. From understanding the loneliness that paired with hearing others but never being heard in return. He knew his laugh, his brief vulnerability would be wholly felt by me, and that made it far too intimate.

Got me there, he thought quietly, and it was only when I focused on watching him again that I realized there were seven competitors remaining in the circle, the rest either unconscious or limping toward the crowd to seek treatment for their injuries.

Too close. He was too close to winning, and I hadn't even attempted to prevent it yet.

It was the fact that I'd let him so occupy my focus that I nearly forgot about my mission. The fact that he'd knowingly opened a new, unfamiliar door between us—that peek at the possible connection we could have if we weren't at odds. It was my begrudging admission that I yearned so strongly to feel just a second more of that closeness, because it was something I'd sought after for so long but believed would never be found. It was all of that which built anger in me, reminding me of my determination to knock Yoongi down before he could get any closer to victory.

I waited, watched as three warriors began fighting one another. The other three set their sights on Yoongi, exchanging quick glances. Hearing their thoughts through Yoongi wasn't necessary. It was clear by the way they approached him that they'd noted his ability and would align themselves just long enough to take him out.

A knot formed in my stomach, and I had to wonder if I was more afraid to see the assassin win or lose.

Yoongi sported a faint smirk as his opponents circled him. He fell into a new stance, casually tossing the polearm from one hand to the other. When the first elf lunged, Yoongi swung his weapon around and used the momentum to leap into a spinning kick. His boots connected with the elf's chest and sent him crashing to the ground while Yoongi landed with ease. The next two —a sharp-featured female and a bald male—attacked together.

Right as Yoongi prepped his countermove, I willed my presence in his head to grow, spreading until I formed a force field around his mind. As my walls went up, Yoongi's connections with his enemies were effectively sliced off.

The fury rising up in him was suffocating, but I held that mental barrier despite the rage.

Is this really how you want to play this game? he questioned dangerously. Before I could reply, the male elf knicked Yoongi's collarbone with his blade. Yoongi blocked the next strike from both opponents at once, the pole trembling under the force of their swords.

A pang of guilt rolled through me, but I persisted blocking his power. It wasn't fair that he had an upper hand—I was only leveling the field.

It's only fair, I thought, and he scoffed viciously in response.

You're a hypocrite. And your efforts are wasted anyway.

Despite being cut off, the assassin still managed to

anticipate nearly every step his challengers made by parrying, dodging, or striking first. He knocked the three warriors down with hardly any greater effort than when he could hear their thoughts. He showed less mercy too, cutting and hitting without pause. Being in his mind, I sensed that he didn't hold back in the hopes that I'd see how worthy an adversary he was—that he could intimidate me with his skill.

And he did. Every movement of his was calculated. Perfect. But what worried me most was how intensely calm his thoughts were as he fought. His head was near dead-silent, even as he faced the final opponent.

The last standing elf was a Trian like Yoongi, but they were complete opposites. While the assassin was lean and controlled, the one facing him was burly and brutish. Yoongi had clean, pale skin while his opponent was covered head-to-toe in inked patterns and countless scars. While Yoongi's weapon was solid, the tattooed elf wielded a barbed whip.

Though he had proven his strength already, I still cringed from imagining Yoongi's flesh getting pulled apart by those sharp barbs.

But they never came close.

At only the first strike, Yoongi shot his weapon out and caught the whip as it curled around the pole. With one strong pull, the large elf was left unarmed, and Yoongi bore down on him instantly. The opponent's bare hands caught the polearm, and he roared as his own weapon's spiked ends lodged into his skin. Yoongi tore it out of his grasp then plunged the curved blade of his pole through the enemy's ribs.

The scream that tore from his throat was nauseating, and I was once again driven to fear when I felt not an ounce of reaction from Yoongi.

Don't expect me to play nice with you anymore, he said to me right before finally resisting against the cage I'd crafted. An attempt to shove me out. I felt him tense when my presence wouldn't budge. How do you do that?

For the first time, I felt a small sense of victory over him. He may have won the tournament, but he'd also discovered a hint of my own strength.

You may be a strong warrior, but don't underestimate me, I replied before letting the shield crumble as I withdrew.

Fully returned to myself, the rumble of applause from the crowd grew louder.

"I knew it," I heard Jimin mutter beside me.

The King rose from his throne, and the princes followed suit. Jimin placed a light hand on my shoulder to signal for me to also stand, and I did.

In a blink, the King and his brothers were standing before Yoongi on the sun and moon emblem, leaving only a faint breeze where they had just been. Goosebumps appeared over my arms. I spotted wisps of white mist at the nobles' feet and knew one had used their gift to transport them.

The magic seemed different from any gift I knew, and though each of the princes had a unique ability, something about this power felt more... intense.

Seeva had trained me long ago to detect magic in more ways than one. It was a valuable skill to stay aware of any threat that might expose us. The main signature I was accustomed to was the embodiment of someone's gift in their mind, like how Joon's mental barrier took the form of a creature and Callyn's was a wall of fire. However, the subtler hint that anyone could pick up on if they knew how to look for it was a signature scent. Every Gifted had a particular aroma that would faintly leave its mark when enough power was used.

And while I couldn't enter the minds of any of the Teserans yet, the scent this gift left behind was powerful enough to fill my lungs. It was complex, too—a mix of sandalwood and patchouli and something metallic that reminded me of... of blood.

Such a strong whiff of that unique smell following only a hint of their ability left no doubt. The True King had willingly used a sliver of his gift, which left me a trail to his identity. I would only have to get each prince to use their gift again and match the scent to discover which one was the real ruler..

"Yoongi of Rivadin," it was Hoseok who spoke, "You have proven your skill in your triumph tonight. As the victor, you earn the title of Gratori, as well as the privileges and duties that accompany it. Will you accept this honor?"

Yoongi's hands clasped behind his back as his head lowered. "I accept."

"And will you pledge your fealty to His Greatness?"

The assassin didn't hesitate to fall onto his knees before the King, bowing his head again. "I swear my loyalty, my support, my capabilities, and my life to you, My King. I ask that you accept me as your Gratori, trusting that I will place your wellbeing above mine every day that I am at your side."

What a load of—

The King took a precise step forward, leaning down and taking Yoongi's face between his palms. My mouth nearly gaped as the King pressed his lips to Yoongi's forehead. It must've been the noble way of accepting oaths.

Each prince took their turn kissing Yoongi's face also, as if they too had to accept the vow. It seemed that the brothers' shared role as masks for the King was not a secret to those in the capital. Unbeknownst to the rest of us, Sellovir protected the fact that their great monarch refused to show his real face. I had to wonder if anyone other than the princes knew the true identity.

Jungkook, posed as the Silver King, cleared his throat. Stillness spread as everyone awaited his words—unsuspecting of the panic they would incite.

"Now that this ceremony is complete, I wish to make an announcement regarding the next one. The long-awaited Gleaning is due to commence tomorrow in the throne room, just after sunset. There will be no exceptions if anyone is late or undecided by the start of the ceremony, so complete all your preparations by the end of tonight."

My fingers dug into the balcony railing. I had only tonight to ensure my stay at the palace. And judging from the glare the newly-titled Gratori gave me, it wouldn't be without challenge.

• • •

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! We got to see more of what Yoongi is capable of, so do you think he'll become a problem for Moon as they compete to get closer to the King?

Also, which character do you think may choose Moon in the Gleaning? Who would her time best be spent with these last few hours before the ceremony?

Finally, any further guesses on the King's identity? I'll likely be asking this every chapter until it is revealed lol.

Sidenote: In case it isn't clear by now, when Moon or Yoongi use their gift and have dialogue with the other person, I don't use quotation marks since they are not speaking out loud. I use italics instead, but the bold italics belong to the person who is inside the other's head. So basically, whoever's lines are bold means they're the one invading the mind of the other! Just figured I'd clear that up for anyone who may have been confused by it since it will happen a lot in this story.

See you all in the next one! Who's excited to see the outcome of the Gleaning?

With love,
Kat

April 7, 2022