Fatefall - 36

Chapter 36 - Poppy

The escape wasn’t without costs. We lost many good men that day, but it was the catalyst---the breaking point---for everyone who had yet to pick a side. After all, who can stand by and allow for the senseless slaughter of innocent men?

Poppy lost all her respect for the Fete the moment she stepped into the courtyard. 

No fancy lights, no special dance floor, and way too many civilians only attending for the food---it was amateur level planning, to be honest.

Nakoa, on the other hand, seemed to be on the verge of throwing up ever since Poppy had dragged her into the Fete. She had reserved a table in the dimly lit back corner of the courtyard for the team, much to Poppy’s chagrin. They couldn’t be part of the action if they were as far away from it as humanly possible. 

She understood Nakoa’s desire to avoid crowds. Sometimes, the best way to survive was to hide…and sometimes parties felt like life or death.

Still, she wished that the Fete was a little more exciting? 

The only entertainment options were food and dancing, neither of which particularly interested Poppy. 

At least Sage and Jett seemed to be enjoying themselves. Poppy watched them dance for a while, but then Jett leaned in closer and suddenly Poppy felt as though she was intruding. The way they looked at each other like they were the only thing in the world…it gave Poppy shivers. Her mind kept insisting that if she tried hard enough, she could have the same thing but with Adrian--

Enough, she told herself. Adrian thinks you killed his brother, and even if he’s wrong, it doesn’t mean anything. 

Fates, she needed a drink.

Poppy made it halfway to the table covered in glasses of sparkly liquid when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She spun, expecting to find Hunter or Griff or someone else who wanted her dead. Actually, the last part wasn’t too far off because she found herself looking into the dark eyes of Adrian. 

Her first thought? Dressed in royal finery, Adrian truly looked like a prince. 

When he spent time around the team, he always seemed more…human. Poppy had seen him unconscious, she’d seen him bleeding out, and, Fates, she’d seen him nearly dying from a poison she’d given him. 

Seeing him now, well-groomed and fully healed, Poppy felt jolted. She couldn’t compartmentalize Adrian’s two halves any longer. 

“Most people would bow in the face of royalty,” Adrian noted calmly with a smirk. 

Poppy blinked, torn between giving a proper curtsy and punching him in the face. She decided verbal insults would be a happy medium. “Says the prince who is fraternizing with an assassin.”

Adrian laughed. The sound was familiar, so why did it sound out of place?

“Seriously, Your Highness. Might I remind you that you’re not wearing a mask? People will wonder why you’re speaking to me,” she pointed out, hoping maybe he’d leave her alone.

No such luck. Adrian only frowned and said, “They’ll know I’m competing in a few hours anyway.”

“But people are staring now,” she protested, realizing she was right.

By the state of their clothes, she guessed most of her observers were nobles, probably looking for any excuse to gossip. 

“Let them,” Adrian said, reaching for her hands. 

Poppy yanked her fingers away. “This isn’t you, Adrian.”

“You’re worried about the rumors, yet you’re referring to the prince by his first name,” Adrian said smugly. 

“You hate me. You told me so yourself.”

His expression shifted to one of guilt. “I didn’t mean it--”

“You sounded pretty sincere.”

“Let me apologize--”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“Please, Poppy. Just listen to me--”

“Listen to you do what? Confess your love for me?” Poppy scoffed, her heart thudding with a mixture of disappointment, hope, and disgust. “It’s a little too late for that now, don’t you think?”

Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t going to confess anything. I just didn’t whatever was between us to die away--”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have stolen my Grace. Maybe you shouldn’t have sent such mixed signals. Maybe you shouldn’t have blamed me for a murder I didn’t commit and then threatened to kill my whole family.” She sighed. “We were fools to think we could ever be more than allies.”

Adrian didn’t respond right away and the silence gave Poppy the time she needed to become aware of exactly how many people were listening to their argument. Her cheeks flamed and she was glad her gold mask hid her embarrassment. 

Luckily---or unluckily---Adrian seemed to be noticing the attention they were gaining.

He cleared his throat and held out his hand again, this time bowing slightly. “Would you care to join me for a dance, miss?”

Poppy swallowed her fear and took his hand. “I suppose one dance wouldn’t hurt.”

It’s only for show, she reassured herself as Adrian pulled her closer. It would look more suspicious if she refused to dance with the prince. No, she’d let spin and sway and allow herself to feel comfortable in Adrian’s arms for one song, and one song only.

Still, her heart fluttered uncontrollably as Adrian led her to the center of the dancing. She ignored the surprised look on Sage’s face and thumbs-up that Jett gave her as she passed by.

“I don’t know how to dance,” Poppy said, keeping her voice low when Adrian finally stopped dragging her forward. “So I hope whatever you need to tell me can be explained quickly.”

“Isn’t it enough that I just wanted to spend some time with you?”

Poppy laughed bitterly. “You expect me to believe there’s no ulterior motive?”

“There’s not,” Adrian protested. He seemed honest enough, but Poppy couldn’t read him well enough to know whether or not it was the truth. His pulse pounded and he was a bit feverish, but it could’ve been the party or the drinks or the thrill of dancing or-- 

The music trailed to a close, leaving a brief moment of silence. Poppy had promised one dance. She could leave now. So why wouldn’t her feet move?

“Okay, so maybe I did have an ulterior motive,” Adrian confessed as the next song began. 

Poppy wasn’t surprised. She trained her focus on her feet, not ready to hear whatever Adrian wanted to accuse her of now. She’d already made herself a fool by agreeing to dance with him, and storming out of the courtyard or picking a fight with the prince wouldn’t improve things.

“I wanted to say sorry,” Adrian continued. “I’m sorry for being a huge jerk.”

“Wow,” Poppy said. “Thanks.” 

Adrian stiffened. He genuinely appeared to be uncomfortable, yet he plowed forward anyway. “We kind of got off on the wrong foot, I suppose. I had you arrested, I picked fights with you for no reason and I took you to Koda for an experiment that I didn’t know would work. I stole your Grace and I said some horrible stuff. Not to mention how many times I’ve nearly jeopardized our team’s chances of winning this Fatesforsaken Tournament with my stupid decisions.” He sighed. “You don’t have to accept my apology. I don’t expect you to, actually. But I just wanted to get that off my chest. I don’t hate you, Poppy. I can’t.”

Heat flared in her chest and nausea boiled in her gut. She’d had suspicions, once, that maybe Adrian saw something in her, but they’d quickly been drowned away by his threats and declarations of hatred. 

“I’ve been rude too,” she admitted, still not willing to meet his eyes. “I’ve attacked you multiple times---verbally and physically. My past has infinitely complicated things for our team. I suppose I should apologize as well.”

“Do you hate me?” Adrian asked. Poppy sensed fear in his voice.

“No,” she answered honestly. Cautiously. She felt incredibly warm, as though this party was stifling her. “But…Adrian…I don’t…I can’t…”

His words were not barbed, not sharp. “You don’t like me, not the way I like you,” he finished. “It’s okay, Poppy. I figured as much. I’ve just been trying to find a way to say it since the end of the second Trial. You’re confident and brave and beautiful. The day I saw you fighting in the Qualifiers, I thought you could’ve been Asa herself--”

“Adrian, please,” Poppy interrupted. “You’re saying all of these wonderful things about me and I can’t return them.”

“I don’t expect you to,” he said. “But it kills me to see you hurting, and I couldn’t bear it if your pain is my fault.”

Her head ached and she couldn’t breathe. She wanted to hate Adrian for putting this pressure on her, but she couldn’t find it in her fluttery heart to loathe him. She needed an escape and time to think--

“I’m sorry,” Adrian whispered again. “I’m sorry for burdening you with this. Pretend you never heard any of this--” He kept talking, stumbling over his words. Words that fell on deaf ears. 

Poppy’s Grace was overloading her senses. Her vision blurred and she felt weightless, as though she was falling and floating at the same time. She could sense a million pulses slamming into her temples, could feel the blood roaring in the veins of the couple beside her as they kissed passionately. Her Grace was so attuned to the world that she felt as though she was all of the other partygoers. She could see through their eyes, hear through their ears.

Fingers wrapped around a cold blade, silver tendrils of some unholy magic spiraling around it--

Someone at the Fete had a knife, and they were heading straight for her.

Poppy flung herself to the side as the armed intruder approached, but it occurred to her too late that she probably wasn’t the main target. She’d been dancing with the prince, after all.

Someone screamed. It might’ve been her.

She saw the flash of the knife as it buried itself in Adrian’s side. He crumpled to the ground.

No. This couldn’t be happening. 

Poppy wanted to chase after Adrian’s attacker, but she knew her Grace was better suited to healing Adrian. She dropped to the ground beside him, vaguely aware of the chaos blooming around her. Someone was sobbing and there were members of the Golden Guard approaching and--

Poppy’s fingers began to glow as she laid them on Adrian’s stomach. Fates. She could only imagine the reaction her Grace would earn from the royals. She quickly snatched her fingers back and resigned to checking on Adrian’s vitals from afar.

“Someone get a healer!” she heard someone cry.

“Close the gates! No one leaves this courtyard until the attacker is found!”

“By the Fates, someone’s killed the prince!”

There was a hand on her shoulder and Poppy whirled around, prepared to fight. Instead, she found Nakoa standing over her, expression filled with worry. Jett and Sage joined her a moment later. Poppy stood and pressed herself closer to Nakoa, hoping she could hide her glowing hands, especially as King Hector approached.

Up close, he seemed much older than Poppy had expected. She knew he’d been young during Fatefall, yet his dark hair was littered with strands of gray and tiny wrinkles creased at the edges of his mouth. 

“Is he alive?” King Hector asked. It took Poppy a moment to realize his gaze was fixed on her.

She nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

King Hector hesitated, as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t decide whether or not it was worth it. He heaved a sigh and waved a hand for one of the Golden Guard to step forward. “Fetch the healer that is currently attending Asher,” the king ordered.

Poppy choked. The king really didn’t know his son was dead. 

“Someone take Adrian to his room. I want a Graced of Life at his side at all times. The guests need to remain calm while we begin a thorough search. No one is to leave or enter the courtyard. Is that understood?”

The guard nodded and beckoned for a few of his friends to join him for instructions.

King Hector turned back to Poppy and her team. He pinched the bridge of his nose in a manner eerily similar to Adrian. “Are you my son’s teammates?” he asked.

Poppy’s heart skipped a beat. “Teammates?” King Hector wasn’t supposed to know that Adrian was competing. “I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re talking about--”

“Please.” King Hector held up a hand to silence her. “You think I wouldn’t notice my son conveniently disappearing every time there’s a Trial? Now, answer my question. Are the four of you my son’s teammates?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Sage cut in before Poppy could continue her lies.

King Hector glanced over them again. Poppy wondered if he remembered them from the day he’d come to meet each of the competitors before the first Trial. 

“I’ll have one of the Golden Guard escort you to my office,” the king said, though he sounded reluctant. “I think it’s about time we have a discussion.”

Poppy knew she shouldn’t be touching everything she could get her hands on in the king’s study, but she couldn’t sit still. Sitting still meant thinking, and thinking meant worrying.

So Poppy investigated all of the random items on the king’s desk and flipped through the books on his shelf. She knew that if she was really a threat, the two guards posted at the door would interfere.

The guards had been stone-faced and silent since leading Poppy and her teammates into the king’s office. They would have been intimidating if not for their obvious young age. 

As for the rest of Poppy’s team, they seemed to be handling the stress a little better than Poppy. 

Nakoa sat eerily still in an armchair by the large window, her gaze fixed on the courtyard below as the Golden Guard struggled to contain a dozen angry partygoers. Her mind was probably focused on Ansel. 

Jett and Sage took turns pacing and lounging on the various couches. While Sage was the picture of politeness with well-disguised anxiety, Jett seemed to be in the process of testing which of the seats in the study was the comfiest. He bounced from couch to couch, occasionally reclining for a mere second or two before switching to the next seat. 

Poppy was busy fiddling with a jar full of gemstones. She recognized the blue and gray hues as those associated with the Fates. Tanzanite for Asa the Fate of Life, turquoise for Basar the Fate of Time, moonstone for Medea the Fate of Deceit, celestite for Dusan the Fate of Soul, and a few black diamonds for Cashus the Fate of Void. She shook the jar a few times, satisfied with the sound it made until she noticed the seal on the cork.

“I see you’ve found my rock collection,” King Hector said, nearly making Poppy drop the jar. He’d entered the room so quietly it was unnerving. 

“It’s very nice, Your Majesty,” Poppy replied, gently placing the jar back on the shelf where she’d found it. “I must admit, the seal piqued my interest.” 

She really hoped it wasn’t treason to have casual conversation with the king.

“It represents the five Fates, just as the stones do,” King Hector explained with a small smile. 

Poppy glanced at the seal again. It depicted a scale with a serpent wrapped around the middle and an empty circle engraved on the base. On either side of the scale was an hourglass and a flower. Such a symbol now would probably be considered illegal. She was surprised the king had it on such open display.

“This must be from before the Fatefall,” Poppy noted.

“Indeed,” King Hector agreed. “It’s one of the last remaining artifacts that hasn’t been destroyed from before the Fatefall. It serves as a reminder of my past. Intriguing, no?”

Poppy placed the jar back on the shelf. “I must confess that I don’t really have much of an interest in history.” And I think it’s hypocritical that you condemn others for their worship of the Fates while you own memorabilia idolizing them. 

“A pity,” remarked the king. He slowly made his way to his desk, frowning in distaste as he adjusted the miniature hand-painted portrait of his kids before taking a seat. “So…about my son’s participation in the Tournament…you really thought I wouldn’t know?”

“With all due respect, Your Majesty, Adrian went out of his way to hide it,” Sage said. “When you met with the competitors before the first Trial, we used the Grace of Deceit to hide his true identity and we always wore masks. Besides, Adrian went out of his way to return home each night. We assumed he’d taken the necessary precautions.”

The king folded his hands neatly on the desk. “You’re Franklin’s son, right?”

Sage scowled but nodded. 

“You are aware that I possess the Grace of Void.” 

Realization struck Sage before it hit Poppy. “You saw right through our illusion, didn’t you?”

“Not entirely,” King Hector admitted. “I couldn’t see that it was truly Adrian---although by that point I had my suspicions---but I could sense something wasn’t as it seemed. He was also conveniently ‘busy’ during both Trials, a coincidence that only solidified my theories.”

Theories. 

Poppy recalled what she and Nakoa had discussed during their dress-shopping expedition. How she’d wondered if King Hector knew of Adrian’s involvement in the Tournament, and if he’d played a role in trying to stop it. She also noted how both times the king had met with Sage, he’d recognized him as Franklin’s son. Were Hector and Franklin friends? Allies? Co-conspirators? 

“So,” she decided to press. “You’re just…okay with Adrian’s involvement in the Tournament?”

King Hector glanced at her. “I’ll admit I was hesitant at first. I didn’t know why my son had chosen to compete in a Tournament when he already had enough wealth and pride to last a lifetime, so I assumed his motives were probably desperate. I planned to have him withdraw should your team have performed poorly in the Qualifiers, but my records showed incredible prowess and skill. Maybe it was irresponsible of me, but I trusted my son’s instincts…and I trust you.”

Poppy wanted to laugh at that. The king? Trust an ex-priestess, an assassin, a disgraced noble, and a thief? The notion was amusing. 

“Let me get this straight,” Jett said, a wry grin spreading across his face. “You only let Adrian participate because you thought all of us were talented?”

King Hector nodded solemnly. “I don’t fight my childrens’ battles for them. If Adrian wanted to compete, I decided I wouldn’t interfere unless it endangered his life or his well being.” 

“So you’ll let him keep competing,” Poppy clarified. “Assuming he’s, y’know, still alive. Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be with your son right now? Or, at the very least, tracking down his attacker?”

“My Grace and Adrian’s Grace combined would be enough to practically render any healer Graceless,” King Hector said. “It’s better for Adrian’s recovery if I’m far away from him. As for the attackers, my Guard is currently investigating six different suspects with promising leads. And anyway, I called all of you here for a reason. Firstly, I’ve been informed of the mysterious disappearance of your sponsor.”

Poppy’s heart skipped a beat. She had been under the impression that teams needed sponsors to compete.

“Koda’s family reached out to me,” King Hector explained, as though reading Poppy’s fear. “My first thought was to call Franklin back to sponsor another team, but I recalled Sage’s wish to surprise his father with his victory.”

Poppy glanced at Sage, who flushed with color. 

“Luckily, I got an offer from a noblewoman that I’d thought dead. She said she knew a member of your team personally and wished to sponsor you,” the king confessed. “I assume the name Evangeline will sound familiar to you?”

“Evangeline is a noblewoman?” Sage gaped.

Poppy recalled Jett’s friend Evangeline. She’d thought the girl was a thief, not a noblewoman. 

“Her inheritance was stolen and her family brutally murdered by a bunch of extremists not long after the Fatefall,” Jett explained. “She asked me not to share her true identity because she was afraid the extremists would return to finish the job.”

“She reclaimed her title and offered to act as an emergency sponsor for the Tournament,” King Hector added. “In other news, due to tonight’s events, I’d like the four of you to spend the night here---if not longer. It is imperative that the Tournament continue, as it represents the strength of my reign. With the disappearances and the attempted assassination on my son, it would be best if all of my competitors remain under my roof.”

“So why aren’t the other competitors here?” Nakoa asked. 

The king grimaced. “The other competitors never showed up for the Fete. I’ve sent a patrol to check their apartment, but I’m afraid I must fear the worst.” He frowned. “But that’s besides the point. Should my servants prepare rooms for you?”

Poppy glanced at her teammates. Nakoa’s face was still a mask of indifference while Sage looked like he would rather be anywhere else. Jett, on the other hand, looked eager.

She shrugged, turning back to the king. “We’ll stay for tonight, but only tonight.”
It would be enough time for the Fete to calm down, but not long enough that they’d spend the rest of their numbered days lazing around a castle. Another glance at her teammates confirmed their agreement.

King Hector promised to have rooms ready within the hour and offered up the library in the meantime for their enjoyment. He departed soon after, hopefully to check on Adrian (though Poppy tried to ignore the fact that she worried for Adrian’s health.) It struck Poppy how trusting King Hector was to allow four random strangers---whom he didn’t even know the names of---to occupy his study with minimal supervision, and to offer them rooms without hesitation. 

The trust was all well and good, but Poppy had a sneaking suspicion that trust was exactly what had gotten Asher killed.