So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)(98)

When his companions passed by, Five gave him a speculative look. “I’ve never seen anyone throw a spear like that. How did you do it?”

“It was amazing,” Four whispered. “Everyone is talking about you.”

Six gave him a shy smile. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

“I don’t leave men behind,” Rupert whispered. “No matter what happens, I won’t let any of you die.”

Six’s eyes glistened with tears as he took his place over the sixth trapdoor. Four and Five moved into their positions.

A hush fell over the stadium as the crowd waited to see who had been doomed to death.

*

Brigitta clenched her hands together as she listened to her brother and Lord Argus talking.

“Who is this number Seven?” Gunther grumbled.

“A nobleman from Eberon, from the Duchy of Vindalyn,” Argus replied. “He appears to be quite wealthy.”

Gunther’s eyes narrowed as he examined the men on the platform. “We can’t let a damned foreigner win.”

“Of course not,” Argus said. “But I suggest we keep him around for a while. The crowd seems to have taken a liking to him, and it always works in our favor to keep them happy and entertained.”

Gunther’s mouth twisted. “Fine. Let them have their hero for a few days. Give everyone who attends the games a loaf of bread, and make sure they know it comes from me.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. The people will know you are the true hero here.”

Gunther nodded. “Exactly. Pull the lever then.”

Brigitta drew in a sharp breath. She could see Rupert standing on the platform, looking at her. She would need to warn him that he’d drawn Gunther’s attention.

A horn blasted, and the crowd began to count along with the blasts. After six blasts, there was a hush, while everyone waited to see if a seventh blast would occur.

It didn’t. Trapdoor number six fell open and Six tumbled through.

The world swirled around her as she leaned over to catch her breath. The roar of the crowd deafened her ears.

Rupert was safe for now. And he would make sure that Six came to no harm.

*

After enduring a celebratory luncheon with King Gunther and the top three, Brigitta was sent back to her suite. The seamstresses were still working on the sixth and seventh gowns, so she spent the afternoon being fitted.

The two seamstresses, Marthe and Norah, were giddy from the latest gossip they’d heard from other servants.

“So the general won,” Norah said as she pinned up the hem on the sixth gown. “And Captain Mador came in second.”

“True.” Brigitta lifted her arms for Marthe to adjust the bodice.

“But it’s number Seven that everyone’s talking about,” Norah continued. “They say he’s incredibly strong. And very handsome.”

“I heard he’s a foreigner from Eberon,” Marthe said. “And very rich. His servants have been spending gold all over Lourdon. They ate at my uncle’s pub last night.”

“Really?” Brigitta asked.

Marthe nodded, smiling. “My uncle said everyone is very impressed by Seven’s generosity.”

Brigitta winced inwardly. She wasn’t sure if it was wise for Rupert to become too popular among the people. Gunther wanted all the praise for himself, even though he treated everyone abominably.

“What do you know of him, Your Highness?” Norah asked.

“I … I only met him briefly at the feast last night,” Brigitta replied. “Do you know what kind of contest will happen tomorrow?”

“I heard it will be archery. There.” Norah finished putting in the last pin and rose to her feet. “All done.”

Brigitta sighed with relief as the two women helped her out of the gown. Archery would not be a problem for Rupert.

After dinner, Hilda came in with the tray containing her daily tonic. As the older woman marched through the door, Brody slipped inside. Eager to hear Brody’s news, Brigitta quickly downed the tonic and wished Hilda a pleasant evening.

With Hilda gone, Brody trotted into the dressing room to shift and put on a shirt and pair of breeches.

Brigitta and Sister Fallyn waited impatiently in the bedroom.

When Brody emerged from the dressing room, barefoot and buttoning the shirt, Brigitta asked, “Do you have news?”

“Yes.” He looked around. “Do you have any food?”

Sister Fallyn ran into the sitting room to fetch the bowl of fruit.

“Did you see you-know-who?” Brigitta whispered. “Is he all right?”

“Is Stefan all right?” Sister Fallyn asked as she passed him the bowl.

“Stefan’s been fussing at you-know-who that he’s drawn too much attention to himself.” Brody tossed a grape into his mouth.

“I was afraid of that, too,” Brigitta muttered. “Even the king was asking about him.”

Brody winced. “He shouldn’t have sent that straw dummy flying.”

“You saw it?” Brigitta asked.

“Bird’s-eye view.” Brody bit into an apple.

“You were a pelican again?” Sister Fallyn asked.

He shook his head. “Eagle.”

“Oh, my.” Sister Fallyn pressed a hand to her chest. “Do you know where Stefan is staying?”