So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)(91)

“Here.” Five offered Rupert one. “Have a drink.”

He took a sip. “If you all expect to die, why are you here?”

Four sighed. “My father insisted. Said he would disown me if I didn’t win and make his grandson the next king of Tourin.” He shook his head. “I’m from northern Eberon, along the border, and the Tourinian army keeps invading our land to steal the golden orbs from the village churches. My father thinks he’s can use me to get back at Tourin. I told him it was impossible, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“So you didn’t want to do this?” Rupert asked.

“No.” Four drank some wine. “I’m more interested in making improvements to our farmland. I’ve been studying how to enrich the soil and achieve a better yield of wheat. There are too many hungry people in the world.”

“I agree.” Six spoke up. “There is too much hunger and too much war. I’ve spent most of my life studying the different languages and cultures on Aerthlan. We can never hope to achieve a lasting peace with our neighboring countries if we can’t communicate with them or understand them. I-I had always hoped to be a statesman someday.” He hung his head, blushing.

A farmer and a scholar? Rupert groaned inwardly. No wonder they knew their days were numbered. “And you?” he asked the blond number Five.

“I’m from the north of Tourin, from the Trevelyan clan.”

Rupert’s breath caught. At one time, the Trevelyans had been staunch supporters of the House of Trepurin.

“My father owns a silver mine,” Five continued. “I’ve been trying to invent equipment to make it safer for the miners.”

A fellow inventor? Rupert’s curiosity was piqued. “I’d like to see what you’ve come up with.”

Five shrugged. “I don’t think my ideas will ever be built.”

He expects to die. Rupert winced. These were all men who could make valuable contributions to the world, feeding more people and keeping them safe, or working for peace among the different nations. These were the kind of men he would need once he was king, for they would be the ones who could help a country and its people be secure and prosper.

“So you’re from Eberon, too?” Four asked.

Rupert nodded. “From the south, the Duchy of Vindalyn.”

“That’s a long way from here.” Five, the Trevelyan, narrowed his eyes. “You speak Tourinian very well.”

Did he suspect something? Rupert inclined his head. “Thank you.”

“So do you have vineyards on your land?” Four, the farmer, asked.

“Yes,” Rupert replied. He’d been well coached by Luciana’s father. “And a few groves of olive trees.”

“Sounds nice,” Six mumbled.

“Why are you here?” Five asked. “Did your father force you, too?”

Rupert shook his head. “I wanted to come.”

Four gave him an incredulous look. “Don’t you know we’re going to die?”

Rupert took a sip of wine. “I intend to win.” He was met with a chorus of snorts and disbelieving looks. “And when I do, I’ll make sure that each of you lives.”

Four scoffed. “I appreciate the thought, but it won’t happen.”

Six gave him a shy look. “Can you really do that?”

Five leaned close to whisper, “Don’t repeat that to anyone else. You’ll never live to see the competition.”

Rupert nodded and lifted his cup. “To us.”

The men clinked their cups against his and drank.

The door opened, and Lord Argus strode inside. “The feast is ready to begin. I’ll take you to the ballroom.”

*

Brigitta grew increasingly nervous as she accompanied Hilda down one corridor after another, headed for the Great Hall. Her midnight-blue silk gown and soft leather slippers hardly made a whisper as she walked on the gleaming white marble floor. Behind her, she could hear the constant clunk of heavy boots. The two soldiers who normally stood guard at her door were now following her.

Did Gunther think she would attempt an escape? For now, she was determined to play the role she had adopted for this mission. A shallow princess who loved her new clothes and enjoyed having men risk their lives in competition for her.

This corridor was lit with candles in gold sconces along the walls on each side. Each sconce had three branches entwined with golden strands made to look like ivy. Mirrors reflected the candle flames, making the hallway even brighter. Ancestors she’d never heard of stared at her from enormous portraits.

She followed Hilda, turning right into another hallway. This corridor was even grander than the last one, although it was darker. A group of servants jumped when they first spotted her and Hilda, then they quickly resumed their task of lighting candles, all the while muttering about ghosts.

Finally, Hilda led her into a grand foyer with massive marble columns that supported an arched ceiling painted with a bloody battle scene. A flash of memory skittered through Brigitta’s mind. This battle looked much like the one in Rupert’s memory. Had her father had this painting done to commemorate his defeat of Rupert’s father’s army? Good goddesses, was Rupert going to see this?

She gripped her hands together and took a deep breath. Stay calm and remember your role. Lifting her skirts, she climbed the short staircase to the huge golden doors that opened into the Great Hall.