The weight of her ceremonial dress did nothing to steady her breath as she moved into the Union Coliseum. She felt the eyes of dignitaries from every kingdom watching her step through the gates. The seats were filled to capacity. Dara gave her a thumbs up as she looked back at her friend.
The coliseum was decorated differently than yesterday. Banners of each kingdom lined the walls above where each ruler was to sit. King Helios and King Malachai were already waiting, impatience evident in their posture as she took her seat. She noticed Queen Nimura was yet to arrive—her seat sat empty with the Lunaris banner blowing softly in the evening breeze.
The sun had begun to fade behind the mountains when the Moonlight Queen finally walked in and took her place. She didn't look at any of the other rulers, not caring one bit about her tardiness. She was just as stunning as the night before, but tonight her dress glowed with patterns of moons and celestial objects that encircled her body, ending at her neck where they were met by silver earrings that resembled a starlit night. Layla could see the ravens still perched on her shoulders, as they were every night.
The High Septine stepped into the center of the pit and waved his hands through the air. Streams of energy moved through the coliseum, and light appeared from nowhere, covering everything in a dim glow.
"The Proving begins," he announced, his voice carrying to every corner of the amphitheater. "Prince Helios of Solares, representing the Sun King, will show the essence of sun magic." The High Septine bowed as the prince strode into the pit, his arrogance and bravado following him as the crowd cheered.
He moved to the stone in the middle of the ring. The crowd slowly went silent as his hands clasped together. Golden light gathered between his palms, coalescing into a sphere that grew gradually brighter. With grand sweeps of his arms, he shaped the light, stretching and molding it until it formed the image of a great tree with branches reaching toward the heavens.
The light-tree pulsed with inner fire, and as Helios directed it with sweeping gestures, tiny golden leaves budded and unfurled along its branches. Flowers bloomed and withered in accelerated cycles, their petals drifting to the ground where they dissolved into sparkling motes.
Layla watched with polite interest, though her mind was elsewhere—focused on a growing warmth spreading across her shoulder and upper arm. The warmth seemed to respond to the display, a dull throbbing that matched the pulse of golden light.
Helios finished to thunderous applause. He bowed again and strode off confidently, taking his seat next to his father, who nodded his approval.
Queen Nimura arrived for her demonstration in dramatic fashion, materializing at the center of the circle in a shower of silver starlight, her ravens perched on either shoulder. Her performance was mesmerizing—constellations pulled from the sky danced around her in intricate patterns, forming and reforming into images from ancient myths. When she manipulated the stars into the shape of a great owl in flight, whispers rippled through the audience.
Throughout Nimura's display, Layla noticed one of the ravens—the one with violet eyes—watching her instead of its mistress's performance. There was something unsettling in that steady gaze, something that stirred fractured memories she couldn't quite piece together.
A hush fell over the crowd as the High Septine returned to the center and announced that King Malachai had elected his son to display the beauty of Umbra instead of himself. Layla didn't know the king's son had arrived. There had been whispers ever since she'd arrived of the reclusive Prince of Shadows and his reluctance to follow in his father's footsteps, including being part of the Long Night.
Shadows erupted from the south side of the coliseum, and from the darkness stepped a man with black and silver braided hair and eyes like golden orbs wrapped in amber fire. Layla went rigid as she recognized the man stepping into the ring—the man she had thought was an Umbra soldier dispatched to protect the king. He never made eye contact with the crowd, his lips never moved, and he walked toward the power stone with his hand resting loosely at his side.
The blood drained from her face as the full weight of his deception crashed over her. Prince. He's a fucking prince. The casual way he'd spoken to her, the easy banter, the way he'd made her feel like she wasn't alone in her discomfort—all of it had been a lie. Or worse, a game.
Her hands clenched in her lap as humiliation burned through her chest. Had he been laughing at her naivety? Reporting back to his father about the inexperienced Queen of Auroris who wandered dark corners alone, who was so desperate for genuine connection that she'd trusted a complete stranger?
You idiot, she thought savagely. Of course he wasn't just some soldier. Look at him—the way he moves, the confidence.
The memory of their conversation twisted in her mind. Every word took on new meaning. When he'd asked what had the Queen of Auroris hiding in dark corners—had that been calculated? A prince gathering intelligence on a rival kingdom's young, vulnerable ruler?
Her pulse hammered against her throat as she watched him stride through the arena with lethal grace. The same predatory movement that had drawn her in now felt like a threat. She'd been so starved for someone who didn't treat her like fragile royalty that she'd missed all the signs. The expensive leathers, the quality of his weapons, the way even other Umbra soldiers deferred to him.
How could I be so stupid?
Prince Rayne stood motionless for a moment as Layla leaned forward, his golden-amber eyes closed in concentration. Shadows began to gather around him—not merely the absence of light, but something tangible, darkness with substance and form. They spiraled around his limbs before expanding outward across the circle.
The audience fell silent as the darkness spread, momentarily enveloping everyone. Then, within the shadows, something unexpected happened. The darkness shaped itself into what appeared to be a night sky—but one unlike any Layla had seen before. Stars formed from pinpoints of negative light, constellations unknown to her world shimmering into existence. Within this shadow cosmos, a landscape took shape—mountains and valleys, forests and rivers, all constructed of varying shades of darkness.
It was beautiful in a way Layla had never associated with shadow magic—hauntingly ethereal, revealing what was hidden rather than simply concealing what was visible. Through this landscape, paths of lighter shadow wound like silver ribbons, connecting distant points in ways that defied normal geography.
Layla's heart raced as she watched the display, struck by its unexpected beauty. The marking on her upper arm had gone from warm to hot, the pain sharp but somehow welcome.
When the shadows receded, flowing back toward their source, Rayne's eyes opened and immediately found Layla's across the circle. The corner of his mouth curved slightly upward—not quite a smile, but an acknowledgment—before he turned away, returning to his father's side without encouraging the murmurs of appreciation from the audience.
That look—gods, that look sent a fresh wave of anger and something else she didn't want to name through her. Did he think this was amusing? That she was some simple country queen to be toyed with? The acknowledgment in his gaze felt like mockery now, like he was savoring his successful deception.
"Queen Layla of Auroris," the High Septine announced, turning toward her. "The circle awaits your demonstration of threshold magic."
Taking a steadying breath, Layla rose from her seat and walked to the center of the demonstration circle. The burning across her shoulder intensified with each step, but she kept her head high and her face composed. She would not let him see how his deception had rattled her. She would not give anyone here the satisfaction of seeing her falter.
Focus, she commanded herself. Show them what Auroris is capable of. Show him he picked the wrong queen to underestimate.
The pedestal at the center of the circle pulsed with gathered magical energy as she placed her hands upon it. Threshold magic, the birthright of Auroris, required concentration and precision—the ability to perceive the thin places between locations and then carefully open passages between them.
Just like we practiced, Dara's words echoed in her mind. Show them control.
Closing her eyes, Layla reached for the familiar sensation of portal creation, the delicate balance of opening without tearing. She visualized simple connections—nothing too ambitious.
A soft collective gasp told her the first portal had opened successfully. She opened her eyes to see a shimmering doorway of pooling light hovering before her, showing a view of endless fields and moon-white flowers. With a sweep of her hand, she gestured, and the portal shifted to reveal rows of flowered gardens placed near cobbled walkways, then the causeway leading to the Sanctum.
So far, the demonstration was proceeding perfectly—controlled, elegant displays of traditional threshold magic. The burning along her shoulder had plateaued rather than worsened, giving her confidence to attempt one final portal.
She reached deeper, intending to create a simple viewing of the coliseum at night. But as her magic flowed, unfamiliar energy surged forward, mingling with her threshold magic. The portal that formed was unlike any she had created before—a doorway that seemed to contain multiple layers of reality stacked one behind another.
What the hell—
The foremost layer showed the coliseum bathed in moonlight as she'd intended, but behind it gleamed the golden glow of Solares, and behind that, the green fields of a place she had never seen. The portal's edges shimmered with all colors—opalescent blue, radiant gold, and emerald green—braided together in an impossible pattern.
A gasp rose from the audience, echoing her own surprise. The portal was beautiful, more intricate and powerful than anything she'd ever created, but it wasn't her magic—or any magic she had ever felt before. Panic clawed at her throat as she fought to maintain control.
This isn't me. This isn't mine. What's happening to me?
A sharp pain lanced through her shoulder, causing her fingers to tremble. The portal's edge wavered for a moment before she managed to steady it, biting back the pain. To the audience, it might have seemed an intentional display of power, but terror crawled up Layla's spine.
Hold it together, she commanded herself desperately. Don't you dare fall apart in front of all these people. Not in front of him.
The effort to maintain control was immense. With careful concentration, she closed the portal, sealing it shut with a final gesture. She bowed to complete her demonstration, her heart pounding so hard she was certain everyone could hear it.
The applause around her seemed distant as she noticed several of the Septines exchanging meaningful glances, Queen Nimura studying her with calculating interest, and—most unnerving of all—Rayne watching her with something that looked almost like concern in his golden eyes.
Don't you dare look at me like that, she thought as their gazes met across the arena. Not after what you did.
As Layla returned to her seat, she caught Dara's concerned gaze. A subtle shake of her head was enough to communicate that they would discuss it later, away from the hundreds of eyes currently fixed upon her.