Whisper of Blade | ✓ (Crimson #1)

Chapter 44: Champion of the Arena

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.