I sit in a darkened room and face an empty chair. A transparent screen rests between me and the other side of the room. Elise swept both sides and tested the screen to make sure it can’t be broken. The male who sits opposite me won’t be able to get to me.

Still, I carry as many weapons as I can. From now on, the weapons belts will be the first thing I put on in the morning and the last thing I take off at night. I’m wearing a flowing silk dress with multiple folds to hide the bulk underneath. My gloves are tucked into a pocket at the side.

I suppose I look demure, waiting primly in the chair, my hair in a single braid resting across my shoulder.

The Elven Command watches from the side, also behind a transparent screen. Elise sits with them but her seat is moved to the side. They can hear everything but they can’t control the outcome. Each champion will bring his heartstone to this test and after completing it, the Heartstone Chest will either accept his stone back or refuse it. There’s no tricking it.

The only thing the Elven Command can control is the order in which the champions enter the room. The door opens at the side and I hold my breath, waiting to see who’s first.

Jasper Grace strides into the room. He’s leaner than Baelen but has a way of carrying himself that somehow fits with his House. I wouldn’t call it graceful but he carries himself with an efficiency of movement that makes it clear he can move fast if he wants to. He takes a knee beside the empty chair, head bowed. “Princess.”

“Hello, Jasper.”

He sits without hesitation and I have to admire the fact that he didn’t pause. His head shoots up as the magic takes hold, his brown eyes widening ever so slightly at the strange, compelling sensation he’s now feeling.

The compatibility test is as much about truth as personality. The spells cast over the champion’s chair force him to tell the truth and speak his mind even if he doesn’t want to.

It’s also incredibly unfair, because my chair isn’t spellcast at all. I can tell as many lies and ask as many questions as I want.

He speaks first, compelled to say what he’s thinking. “Are you okay?” he asks. “Are you still hurt?”

“I’m fine now, thank you Jasper.”

“I can’t stop seeing the arena, replaying it in my head. I couldn’t get to Commander Rath. I couldn’t get to you. I can still hear you scream.” He grips the handles on the chair, one fist clenched over his heartstone. His jaw flexes and I know he doesn’t want to tell me any of this.

I interrupt him so he doesn’t have to continue. “I have a question for you, Jasper.”

He looks relieved and grateful, but his grip on the heartstone remains strong.

I lean forward and try not to smile. “Did you peek?”

His forehead crinkles, but his frown quickly clears. He remembers the night on the mountains when I had to remove the top of my suit to patch my back.

He says, “No.”

“Good.” Let the Elven Command puzzle over that one. “Do you have any family?”

“I have a sister. Younger.”

I ask him other questions about his family, his favorite things, his childhood. He slowly relaxes. He tells me about his grandmother who used to sing stories to him as a boy. He tells me about his sister who sews roses out of silk for the major Houses. He tells me about military training and meeting my brother there. He doesn’t smile. He never does.

I avoid any questions that really matter. Until the last one. It could be dangerous, but I set my features into a pleasant expression and keep it glued to my face. No matter what he says, I can’t react.

I say, “I’m sorry to push you on this, but I need to know… which story you believed about the night I became the Storm Princess.”

“I don’t want to tell you that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t want to think about it. Not really.”

My composure slips. Somehow this male reads me too well. And all without giving anything about his own emotions away.

I tense. Breathe. Relax. “You’re right. I hate remembering it. But it’s just a story. It can’t hurt me.”

He nods. “Some people say that you deliberately climbed the mountain during the storm because you wanted to be the Princess. Other people say you were in the right place at the right time. Some people say that you climbed the mountain because you intended to jump off and kill yourself but the Storm got to you first.”

I blink. That’s one I hadn’t heard before.

“But the story I believe…” He doesn’t grip the sides of the chair anymore. He leans forward, watching me watching him. His brown eyes soften as his lips part.

“The only story that holds truth for me is the one where you took the lightning strike for someone else. You did it to protect someone.”

The blood drains from my face. Despite all my efforts not to show any emotion, I can’t find my voice. I whisper. “Thank you, Jasper. For telling me the truth.”

He jumps out of the chair. He glares at it. But he quickly buries his discomfort and turns to me with military precision. “Princess.”

Then he takes a knee, bowing to me again before striding out of the room. I fix my eyes on a point in the distance and force my face into an expression of nothingness, serenity, anything other than the storm of emotions I actually feel.

The door opens again.

Sebastian Splendor enters the room, bows beside the chair, but pauses, frowning at it. He slides into it but he’s already gripping the armrests, his knuckles white around his heartstone.

He doesn’t want to be here. I don’t want him here either. I want him out of the trials and with Jordan where he belongs. That’s okay because I’m going to make sure that happens.

I lean forward, raising my voice, shooting fire straight at him. “Who do you love, Sebastian Splendor?”

“Jordan. Always.”

“Could you ever, in a million years, love me?”

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Princess. My heart is hers.”

“Thank you, Sebastian. For telling me the truth.”

He leaps out of the chair and spins to me, his face pale. He glimpses his grandfather through the transparent shield at the side and instantly Sebastian becomes wooden and emotionless. He drops to a knee. “Princess.”

Three champions remain and Baelen is one of them. I hold my breath, but the next to appear is Pedr Bounty’s grandson. He was the one who held Jasper back.

He pauses beside the chair, twisting his heartstone in his hands, glancing between where I sit and the Elven Command watching from the side. Like all the champions, he’s big and brawny, the perfect choice for the job of blocking another male.

I won’t go easy on this male.

I say, “They can’t help you. This is the part where you have to face yourself.”

He slides into the chair, staring at a point past my ear.

I remain silent until his gaze finally flicks to mine. I say, “What do you see when you look at me?”

He struggles, shifting in the chair, refusing to answer.

I don’t smile. I don’t feel anything. “You can’t get out until I say the words that will release you. Does that make you feel helpless?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think that’s how I felt when Rhydian Valor’s body pressed on top of mine? When he stabbed me over and over again?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to shout? Fight back? Escape?”

“N-no.”

I lift my eyebrows. “Why not?”

“Because I deserve to feel this way.”

“Hmm. I’m going to ask you again: what do you see when you look at me?”

“I see a…” He frowns, looking over me from my head to my toes, from my braid down the lines of my dress to my ankles. Sweat breaks out on his forehead. “I don’t have the words.”

I narrow my eyes and spit the order. “Try!”

He jolts like I punched him. “I see a storm of power and light. I see burning and chaos. I see a girl on a mountain. The wind’s beating her, lightning’s striking, claws are ripping, but she’s fighting back. I see death and life. The only safe place is beside her. Beside you.”

He thumps the armrest. Shakes his head. Grips his heartstone so hard I’m concerned he might break it. He’s breathing way too hard. “I see my death. And I don’t know if you’re the one killing me or saving me.”

My lips part. I almost fly out of my chair. I itch for the steel so close to my thigh. “I should kill you for what you did.”

“Yes.” He wipes the sweat from his eyes, but doesn’t say anything else.

I stare at the floor for a long time. “I’m going to tell you what to do but it’s up to you whether you do it.”

He waits.

“Leave this place and never look back. Leave your House and all its trappings. Find a female who can bear to love you, build her a house, and give her children who will miss you when you die. But whatever you do…” I lift my eyes to his. “Do not cross paths with me again.”

He nods.

“Thank you, Gwynn. For telling me the truth.”

He’s the slowest to get up. He takes a knee, bows, and pauses on the floor. “You won’t see me again, Princess.”

Then he rises and strides from the room.

The second-last male enters the room. This time it’s the one who cornered Sebastian. If Rhydian Valor is a gorilla, this male is an ox, thick and bullish. Unlike the male before him, he saunters into the room, his heartstone held casually in his hand. He drops into the chair.

Ice drips from my tongue. “You forgot to bow.”

“Why should I bow to—”

The magic takes hold. His head snaps up so fast it sounds like a breaking log. “I should have bowed.”

“Hmm.”

He’s from a major House but not one that’s represented on the Elven Command, which means it’s likely he’s been raised with all the privilege and none of the responsibility.

I tap my fingers across my knee. “Explain to me why you didn’t bow.”

“The Princess’s job is to serve. She’s the one who should be bowing.”

“Who taught you that rubbish?”

“My father.”

“And who is your father?”

“Phillip of the House of Faith.”

I file that name away. “Is he a good father?”

“No, he’s a drunk. He beats the servants and treats my mother badly.” His eyes widen. Shame turns his face red.

“Then why do you believe a word he says?”

“I…” Now he’s fighting the magic. His knee bounces up and down, jiggling. He fidgets with the heartstone. “Because he’s my father.”

“Not good enough! You made enemies in that arena. Males I would never want as my enemies. But worst of all, you made an enemy of the Storm. What is your next move?”

“I thought I’d win. I beat Sebastian Splendor. That means I’m good enough.”

I swallow a laugh. “Look around you and have another think about that.”

His gaze darts around the empty room and meets the Elven Command. As much as I’ve lost all respect for them, they present a picture of regal power. Sebastian’s grandfather, in particular, doesn’t look impressed.

The male says, “I only did what they wanted.”

“Yes, but do you think they’re going to protect you? Is your father going to protect you? Is anyone going to protect you… from me?”

Let this sniveling idiot make it through the trials. I’ll be happy to kill him. Without realizing, my hand has moved to my thigh, seeking the steel resting there and the power that comes with it. I wonder if an electrified dagger could break through the shield…

He shakes his head, compelled to answer. “No. They won’t.”

I lean forward. “Then what is your next move?”

“I… don’t know.” He presses his lips together, visibly fighting the impulse to speak. His fingernails dig into the heartstone so hard they’re bleeding. “I don’t like this. I can’t stop saying what I’m thinking.”

“It’s called the truth.”

“I don’t like it.” He tugs at the chair, breathing hard. He’s panicking but I have no sympathy for him.

He says, “Am I going to die?”

I want to scream at him, but I swallow it down. “Yes.”

“I don’t want to die here.”

“Then don’t. It’s your choice.”

His hands quake against the armrests, banging against them. “I don’t want to go home. I hate it there.”

“Then don’t do that either.”

He jolts like I shot electricity through him. “What?”

I consider the floor, unable to stand looking at him. “Find a new home. You must have made it through the endurance test somehow. Find another mountain to climb.”

“Brute strength,” he says. “It’s all I’m good for… my father says.”

Ah, nothing like a label to define a male’s belief about who he is. “Then use it to kick him out.”

His leg stops jiggling. “What?”

“Your father. Go home and give him the boot. I don’t think the Elven Command will object. Let him live with the pigs where he belongs. Be a better master to your workers. Be a better son for your mother.”

He stares at me through the shield. The cogs may be turning slowly in his mind, but they are finally turning. “If I do that, will you show me mercy?”

“I’ll do better than that: I won’t give you another thought.”

He tilts his head, appraising me. “Okay then.”

He shifts gears. Again, it’s slow, but he gets there. “You’re more complex than I thought you were.”

I sigh. “Thank you, Harmon. For telling me the truth.”

He steps out of the chair. This time he takes a knee and bows before leaving the room. I swallow the unpleasant taste in my mouth and think calming thoughts to wipe that interaction from my mind.

Baelen is last and I don’t want to admit to myself that I’m tired. Dealing with the last two males was draining. I try to stay relaxed as I stare at the door, waiting for it to open.

It remains closed.

I wait. I fold my legs again. And again. And I wait some more.

Five minutes later, I’m worried. I check out the Elven Command. What if they’ve done something to stop Baelen getting here? What if this is the latest in their scheming? But they’re fidgeting and frowning too. If that’s any indication, they aren’t responsible for the delay.

The door finally opens and I almost leap out of my chair. I gasp as Baelen stumbles into the room. I try to see what’s wrong. Is he hurt?

He lumbers over to the chair. His forehead puckers. He frowns at it, tapping his heartstone against his thigh. Then he feels his way into the seat, fumbling and almost dropping the stone in the process.

“This is a nice chair.” He pats the armrest, leaning to one side of it.

Wait… My jaw drops. “Baelen Rath! Are you… still drunk?”

He rubs his forehead, squinting at me. “No. Maybe?”

“But that’s two days now,” I scold him. “How much longer do you intend to be inebriated?”

“As long as it takes.”

“To what?”

“Get you out of my head.” His grin disappears but he continues without pause, waggling his finger in the air. “Did you know that the color blue is supposed to be calming?”

“I’ve heard that.”

He growls as if he’s beyond disappointed. “Well, it’s not. I’ve tried looking at it from all angles and it’s not.”

“What are you…?” What is he talking about?

He leans so far forward that he almost tips out of the chair. He presses his finger against the shield between us. “Do you know what I need?”

I fold my arms across my chest. “I can’t imagine.”

He points at my shoulder. At least, I think he points at my shoulder. I can’t be sure because his finger sways between the wall and the back of my chair.

“I need…” He purses his lips. He taps his finger against the shield again. “Nope… I forgot.”

I’m not going to get any sense out of him. This interaction is pointless and the only thing I can control is ending it.

“Well, thank you, Baelen. For telling me the truth. Now get out of my sight.”

“You’re welcome.” He slithers out of the chair, wobbles, and somehow clambers to his feet. “Uh?”

I point. “The door’s that way.”

I wait only long enough for it to close behind him before huffing in exasperation. The Elven Command looks as astonished as I am.

Teilo Splendor clears his throat and announces through the shield: “Princess, you must wait here until the champions have presented their heartstones to the chest. Which… might take some champions longer than others.”

The other elves cough, but Teilo continues. “Your advisor may be present to verify the proceedings, but you may not know the outcome until we announce it tomorrow morning. Your advisor will return when it’s time for you to leave this room.”

The Command files out and then I wait. And fume. And worry. But mostly, I fume. How could he treat the compatibility test with so much disrespect? Such a lack of care? To turn up barely able to string two words together. By the time Elise returns, I’m fit to explode. I jump to my feet. “That male! Take me to his quarters.”

She blocks me before I can take another step. “Princess, you can’t go to the soldier’s barracks.”

I make a wide circle around her and stride from the room. “Don’t tell me what I can’t do right now, Elise.”

I call my Storm Command to me. Jordan and Elise have an exchange of the wide eyes when I announce where we’re going.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Princess?” Jordan asks.

“The best I’ve had today,” I growl. “Let’s go.”

It takes half an hour to get there but my anger just gets worse. For him to turn up to my quarters in the middle of the night was one thing, but to take the compatibility test when he couldn’t even stay upright…

My Storm Command wears full body armor every day now. They pose a commanding force marching through the archway into the military compound. It’s their job to know every part of the city so they don’t need to stop for directions. They escort me into the heart of the soldier’s barracks to an imposing building made of sandstone.

The soldiers standing guard do a double take.

My demand makes them jump. “Where is Commander Rath?”

They both bow. One of them points. “To the right along the corridor, Princess. It’s the door at the end.”

I don’t wait for my ladies to close the gap. Instead of surrounding me along the narrow corridor, they form two lines, one on each side of me, giving me full access to the door ahead. When we reach it, Jordan knocks and pushes it open without waiting for a response.

“The Storm Princess,” she announces, wise enough to step immediately out of my way.

The room is twice the size of my bedroom. Maps cover the walls, and chairs are scattered throughout the room. An enormous desk the size of the one in the War Room rests under wide windows on the opposite side.

My brother leans against the table, his posture relaxed. I haven’t seen him since the Heartstone Ceremony but he’s been busy acting as proxy for Baelen, looking after Rath land while Baelen is busy with the trials. Macsen gives me a wide smile. “Welcome, sister.”

Baelen sits on one of the chairs in front of the table, his head in his hands. I don’t care that he winces with every thud of my boots across the wooden floor.

“Baelen Rath, what is wrong with you?”

“Don’t shout, Marbella. My head hurts.”

“Oh your head hurts? What about your reputation? Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to sit across from those… those… monsters? And to think that I actually made them afraid of you. And then you blow in like a stale breeze without a sensible word to give me.”

“I had to protect you.”

“How was that protecting me?”

He jumps to his feet and towers over me in two seconds flat. Getting up so suddenly was clearly a bad idea because he flinches and grips his head. He sways, groans, but manages to focus on me. “Think about how dangerous the chair of truth is for us.”

“But… I wouldn’t ask you any difficult questions.”

“Marbella, please, give me a scrap of mercy. I can’t say out loud what I’m thinking when I’m around you. I’ve been drinking for two days hoping that I could defeat that chair.”

“One day,” my brother interrupts. “You’ve been drinking for one day to defeat the chair.”

Baelen glares at him.

Macsen isn’t deterred. “The first day’s drinking was for reasons he won’t tell me about, but he got the idea for beating the chair after that.”

I plant my hands on my hips. “Well, it worked.”

Baelen presses his palm to his temple. “A bit too well.” He sinks into the nearest chair. “Ah, my head.”

I whirl to my brother. “Macsen, please pour a bucket of icy water over Commander Rath’s head. It seems to need numbing.”

I stalk out of the room, my fury remaining strong until I’m halfway home. Then it dissolves like ice in the sun. I don’t want to admit that Baelen’s right. Acting the fool is far better than saying something he doesn’t want to say in front of the Command—especially something that could hurt me.

My anger has evaporated by the time I reach my quarters. It’s replaced with worry about the results of the test. For all I know, the Heartstone Chest could have spat Baelen’s heartstone back at him and he could be out of the trials.

That’s what I want… isn’t it? I don’t want any of them to be compatible because then I’d be the last elf standing and the curse would be over.

For what might be the first time ever, I look forward to taming the Storm that afternoon because it will stop me thinking about the outcome of the test.