War is inevitable. It can only be delayed, even if the means used result in the first bloodshed.

When Minerva realized the political plays were made with this detail in mind, the picture came into focus. The Hydro King planned to take away as many advantages as he could and force the empire's hand before they could fully prepare. Kovine had decided she could afford to lose her last heir—she'd already shown she had no interest in the Pyro legacy—as long as she could cripple the Hydros in the process. After she killed Kodak, she wouldn't stop there. The sanctity of the embassy would mean nothing to her.

The full noon sun beat down on Minerva's head. The fate of two realms rested on this match. If only it had been a game. Maybe it still was, but the stakes made it a deadly one.

Minerva touched the heart stone under her tunic. I won't lose. I won't die.

I will remake the empire. Today, I shed my blood for it. Today, I make good on my oath.

Kodak strode toward her, tall and unyielding—her polar reflection made solid, another pawn in the game. He looked fresh, in spite of his previous matches.

When they bowed and shook hands, his grip lingered. Minerva didn't look up at him. Her resolve could not falter. She walked to her position in a dream and thought of Chi sprinting across the sand with eyes only for the kill.

Then, as the gong rang, she let the hollow place rush in.

She didn't see it coming. A wall of fog hit her face, scattering droplets over her skin. The world disappeared from sight. The air hung heavy and she felt like she was drinking it in. Around her, the crowd murmured, but their voices sounded like a fell wind wafting through an empty city.

Don't panic. Don't panic.

Minerva tried to sense Kodak's heat, but the surrounding ring of golden light and the blazing sun's rays washed out all other color. Her eyes darted around as the mist writhed, twisting into shapes that looked human before breaking into formless vapor.

The humidity pressed on her. Sweat soaked her clothing. Gooseflesh rose on her skin.

Minerva shut her eyes, calmed her heart rate. Kodak would come to her, walking through the mist like a wraith with pale eyes. She may not be able to see him, but she could sense him.

Seconds ticked by. The hollow place cooled her, like water closing in over her mouth and nose. The absence of warning scared her, but so far there hadn't been any intentions of violence for it to warn her of.

Before the hollow place drowned her, a faint touch broke the surface tension. Minerva opened her eyes to find Kodak mere inches away. His fingers brushed her cheek.

In the pools of his eyes, golden specks floated like lanterns on the water. There was no bloodlust clouding them. Instead his eyes spoke of light, of warmth. Yet sorrow stained his gaze and Minerva knew deep down that he'd seen her when she'd hid and listened to his conversation with his father.

They stood like that for a moment. Nothing else mattered. The world belonged to them.

But the tension bounced like lightning between them—someone would need to take hold of it and strike first. When they'd met in the palace halls, Kodak had said a person could only die once they'd accumulated enough regrets. Minerva could name the one out of her many that had affected her most.

She'd never asked Arsen if he meant to kill her.

That single event had marked her spiral downward. History could not be stopped from repeating itself. The pattern of humanity could not change.

But she could make a small choice. Maybe it would be enough to bend the pattern, even if it didn't break it. Even if it broke her.

So this time, she grabbed the lightning in her hand and opened her mouth. "Was it all a lie?" Minerva asked quietly.

Kodak traced the line of her jaw with the tip of his forefinger. "No. Not all of it," he whispered. "Maybe, in another lifetime, it would have been different."

Minerva wanted to believe it. But they didn't have another lifetime—they had this one. In this lifetime she had to let go. In this lifetime, their interests did not align. "Thank you for saving Azuki and for the ice cream. Thank you for watching the hanabi with me. And ... for calling me beautiful."

"Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye?" Kodak asked, lines creasing his forehead.

"Aren't you going to kill me?" Her voice stayed level. He could be trying to lull her into a false sense of security.

"No. Never. " If Kodak was acting, he'd practiced righteous indignation well. "I'm sorry, but I'm not encouraging your suicidal martyr tendencies." His hand slid down to her shoulder.

Minerva frowned. "Are you throwing the match?" This might be easier than she'd thought.

"Not exactly."

The chain around her neck snapped. Light flared before Kodak's fist closed around the kirukkan stone.

Minerva stumbled forward to reach for it, but he'd already melted into the fog. She called on the flame, but with her connection to the stone severed, her strength was halved. Lobbing fireballs into the mist, she screamed.

Stupid. Of course he'd guessed at how her ability worked. Stealing the stone crippled her without a single punch. Even with her reputation for fighting dirty, Minerva had never thought of taking her opponent's heart stone. They were sacred—possessing one belonging to another person was taboo in the same way ripping out an actual heart would be.

The hollow place jabbed her. Vision blurring, Minerva dodged to the side to avoid a bolt of water. She ran in the direction it had come from, but she was the one fighting blind this time. At best, they'd reached a stalemate. At worst, Kodak had read her hand and predicted every move she'd make.

His voice came like a faraway echo. "I hope you don't mind me borrowing this. I'll take good care of it."

Minerva felt like her heart wasn't beating. Her hands scratched at her bare neck as if doing so would put the kirukkan stone back in its rightful place. "Come out and face me! Or are you too much of a coward?"

The air around her shifted, thinning the mist. Kodak appeared in her view, sucking the thick vapor back into his hands. "I don't want to fight you, Min." He had her chain around his neck with the kirukkan gem glowing against his bare chest.

"Then you shouldn't have taken that." Minerva charged up a blast of fire before sending it rocketing at Kodak. She followed in its wake, ready to attack when he side-stepped.

Instead the unthinkable happened. The Hydro prince's veins filled with molten gold. He caught her fireball in his hand, swung around, and sent it shooting back at her at the speed of a falling star.

Minerva missed the window of reaction time to dodge. The blast hit her, knocking her off her feet. It didn't burn, but then ... if Kodak was using her fire, she might still be resistant to it.

He walked over. Minerva remained where she'd fallen, too stunned to move. "How?" she croaked.

"Blood is thicker than water. Isn't that what the Pyros always say?" The amber in his eyes shone bright enough to almost eclipse the blue.

Minerva bowed her head, tears collecting in her eyes. She didn't understand. Maybe this was what Kovine had meant to prevent and she'd been out of her depth all along.

"Don't cry," Kodak whispered. When the tears rolled down her face, he flicked his fingers to take them away. "I'll return your heart stone after I kill your mother."

The admission robbed Minerva of the breath in her lungs. Oh no. Kodak hadn't meant her—he'd meant to assassinate the Empress. Had the Hydro King ordered him to do it? She didn't have time to process all the implications, but either way, Kodak's plan would not end well. "You can't kill her." She seized Kodak's hand, eyes raised in appeal. "She's the only one who can help me."

Even with her firepower helping him, the prince wouldn't succeed in killing the Empress. Kovine wasn't immortal, but she was the next thing to it. I'm not going to let you be a martyr either.

Kodak froze with hesitation, the color of his eyes mellowing to their normal dark blue. Seeing the opportunity, Minerva took advantage with the dirtiest fighting move by any standard. Still holding his hand, she pulled herself up from the dirt.

She kicked him hard, right between the legs.

Kodak bent double with a low groan. His face twisted with pain. Knees hitting the sand, he curled in on himself.

Minerva felt sick, but she grasped his forearm and forced his hand up.

While the referees called a cease fire and the stadium erupted with shouts and cheers, Kodak pushed her away and vomited on the sand.

Stomach churning with guilt, Minerva untied her hair. She gathered the loose strands away from Kodak's face and secured them with the braided leather cord. "I'm sorry, but I'll need this back," she whispered, unfastening the chain from around his neck. The link on one end had broken, but the clasp still functioned.

The gates creaked open. Kaolin ran to her and grimaced at the mess on the sand. "I really thought you were about to lose the match."

"I would have, except he threw first," Minerva responded quietly. Kodak would have won in a fair fight. He deserved the champion's crown, but she'd stolen it from him with an underhanded play. In the end, she hadn't triumphed because she'd outsmarted or overpowered him.

She'd won because he'd listened to her plea. Kodak had shown her mercy—the willingness to sacrifice his mission if it meant her salvation—and she'd repaid him with pain. But the fact that he wouldn't face Kovine, that he would survive, relieved her. One day, maybe in another lifetime, Minerva hoped he'd forgive her.

Kaolin supervised the medics carrying Kodak out of the arena. Minerva stepped aside for another team of staff to take care of the soiled sand. Above, the white dragon circled once, its sinuous body rippling as it flew, before landing. Kovine slid from its back, a crown of glimmering obsidian on her head. She held another in her hands—a delicate white object that looked as if it were crafted from glass.

Amidst the roars of the crowd, the old champion crowned the new one. Minerva bowed as Kovine set the crown on her head. It weighed less than she expected, but she stiffened when her mother embraced her. Kovine's hot breath fell on her ear. "You've been lucky. Play along—I'd hate to kill you after all the trouble I've taken."

The Empress released her, smiling as if she'd offered praise instead of a veiled threat. Minerva flinched when her mother joined hands with her and raised their arms in the air.

"People of the Pyro Empire!" Kovine shouted, her voice amplified by Daeun at her side. "The golden bloodlines flow true! I give you Minerva Pyroline, your champion of the arena!"