Page 20 of This Prince Is Not Charming

Marsten raised a finger. “Question,” he said in a singsong voice. “What does eliminated mean, exactly? Eliminated as in our heads get chopped off, or something gentler that doesn’t involve blood and gore?”

My hand went to my neck, even though Morton had already assured me these trials wouldn’t be dangerous. If my father got even a whiff of danger, he’d lose his mind, and I couldn’t have him falling apart on me when I would be gone so often and he’d be alone.

Morton stiffened. “I assure you, there is no dying involved in the elimination.” He paused. “That being said, I don’t exactly know what elimination means. It could mean not being part of the trials anymore . . . or something else entirely.”

My throat grew thick, and everyone shot each other uneasy glances. I didn’t like that answer, not at all, and I imagined Castle locking those who were eliminated away in some room, never to be seen again.

Cillian clapped his hands. “Okay, thank you, Morton. That’s enough.”

The bookwyrm arched his neck to look up at the high prince. “But I’m not done⁠—”

“Yes you are,” Cillian said out the side of his mouth. “Let’s not scare anyone more than you already have.”

“But they need to know⁠—”

“Ah, ba-ba-ba-ba.” Cillian stepped in front of Morton, completely blocking the bookwyrm from view. “So how are we all feeling?” he said in a chipper tone that defied the mood of the room.

Everyone stared at him with stony expressions.

“Perfect.” He grimaced. “This is going to be so much fun.”

“I love watching him squirm. This is already exceeding my expectations,” Meera said.

“This champagne is exceeding my expectations,” Marsten murmured. “Absolutely delicious.”

“Okay, I think we’ve had enough partying for one day.” Cillian swallowed. “Everyone go home, get some rest, and get ready for the marriage trials to officially begin⁠—”

Before he could finish, our crowns began glowing so bright I had to shield my eyes.

“What’s happening?” Lila asked in a shaky voice.

“I told you to let me finish talking,” Morton said to Cillian. “I had another announcement to make.”

“Well, you were terrifying my audience,” the high prince shot back.

I reached to grab for the table, but it disappeared and my hand hit air.

The floor under our feet began to shift, each of the other tables disappearing with an ominous pop.

Meera screeched and landed on the floor on all fours, claws out.

“My champagne spilled.” Marsten looked at his red silk blouse and black trousers, both of which I’d made for him. “That’s unfortunate.”

The yellow and gold stained-glass windows of the throne room shattered, the glass dissipating before it hit us.

Everyone here had experienced Castle’s antics, so no one would have been surprised about it shifting, but what had me—and probably everyone else—stiff with alarm was that this shifting might have been related to the competition.

Cillian had his feet braced as the dais dropped away from him.

Then the floor fell out from under us.

Suddenly, I was falling. We dropped into a black hole, everyone letting out screams of terror. Castle had never done this before. My heart leaped to my throat, and I squeezed my eyes shut as wind roared around me while I free fell in this abyss.

Cries echoed around the dark space, but I couldn’t see anything, the harsh whip of the wind spinning me this way and that as bile rose in my throat. It felt like we were dropping forever, just endless black and flailing and insides twisting.

After what felt like an eternity, my feet finally hit solid ground, and I stumbled forward onto my hands and knees. I still couldn’t see anything, but as the roaring sound of the wind died down, I could clearly hear Morton’s voice ringing out as he said, “Welcome to your first trial.”

CHAPTER 11