Unforgiving

5. survive? win?

Winning would not be an option for me. Amongst murderous, privileged heathens, I was a pest, a fly to be swatted away.

I followed Allia and her horde to the ballroom. In mere moments, she began to entertain a new crowd of elites. As always, I stood beside her, wanting this night to end. Next to the beautifully dressed courtiers, I felt like a stain meant to be washed away.

"I truly believe that you are sure to win, My Hope!" Duchess Gloria Beleer said. She was a favorite of the imperial family. "You have always been skilled in the way of the sword."

The princess laughed. "I appreciate your faith in me."

Duchess Gloria went on, "Will you be gentle on your opponents, I wonder?"

Allia tilted her head innocently. "Whatever do you mean, Duchess? I am always gentle."

The crowd laughed at her coy remark while I held back a frustrated sigh. What a lie.

"I will try to be just and fair," Allia said, "though I might be a tad harsh on my cousin."

Harsh on Aaron? Please, I thought indignantly. You are planning to kill me, remember? I am your main target, you sadistic vampire scum.

Not only was killing one's opponent allowed in the combat, duel-heavy part of the Trials, it was something the victor (or the victor's chosen person) was allowed to do once crowned. The victor could kill, or "pick off" whoever they thought would oppose them during their reign. If the Archduke won, I would possibly be ignored. If Allia won...

Oh, fuck.

As I stood in the ballroom, I did everything I could not to tremble. I let the nobles' idle chatter slip my perception. I felt a nausea so palpable that I felt that it would uproot my stomach and let my lunch fly. While Allia was hugging me and introducing me to some of the other nobles, I came to a horrible realization.

No, I could die at any time, I thought. If Aaron won, Allia could simply request to have me executed. And who would miss me, a servant with no family, no line? I was going to be in the way, I pebble in the way of a carriage—

I'm going to die.

"Miriam? Did you hear me?"

"Mm?" I snapped back to reality. "I'm sorry, I-I did not hear you... Yes, My Hope?"

"I told them how I have known you since we were young," the princess said. "She's quite the quick-witted one.

Allia's party giggled at that, and my heart sunk. I was already a joke to them.

Alway have been.

"What was it you said the other day, sweetie?"

Hot tears welled in my eyes. She was going to bring up my standing up to her, bring up the mistake that had landed me in this mess. "I do not know, My Hope."

"Are you sure?" she said, smiling darkly. "Hm. Well, never mind, then."

The group of nobles slowed, and the tension thickened. I was not surprised by this; Allia was hard to decipher these days. I was stumped, too; why didn't she just embarrass me right then, like she intended to?

Did she intend to?

"Oh, look!" Countess Omere said. "Ivory Gross! He's been pushing back his debut for ages, but now he's attending parties left and right!"

Allia's eyes lit up. "Should I speak with him?"

The ladies amongst us hid their faces behind their fans. A blushing young daughter of a Viscount said, "I would, if I were you, princess. I would."

I flinched. I watched Allia, wondering what she would do. As expected, her face had dropped into the coldness I'd grown accustomed to.

Then she grinned. "Mm, well, you are not me are you? Thank goodness."

The young lady began to splutter as she broke through her crowd of oglers, and I took my chance to fade into the shadows. I felt bad for the young miss, knowing that she probably had no idea what she'd said wrong. I watched Allia make a beeline for Ivory Gross, who looked to be pleasantly talking with Aaron Cordelia.

I felt sick looking at him, knowing the things he did behind closed doors. I was glad he did not live at the palace, for I would surely find myself in his grasp at some point— Not because I was particularly pretty, but because he diddled anything with legs (as long as he could get away with it).

Allia, before her transformation, had warned me about him, and I had had multiple opportunities to see him in action. He'd always been disgustingly perverted, even in childhood. I saw him corner a young lady before she and him were ushered away from each other by guards and governesses.

It was best to steer clear of nobles like him.

Alas, I thought, wryly. They are all the same.

I sauntered close to the food tables near the wall, where most nobles never looked. They were more interested in the drinks being served.

How the Hellfire am I going to survive this?

To be continued...