Chapter 1
“Miss Kara! Miss Kara! Miss Kara, can you hear me?”
Kara opened her eyes slowly, her vision blurry and dark. She could hear groans of pain, but they weren’t hers. Someone was crying. Why were they crying? Just moments ago, everyone was laughing and screaming in excitement—until that loud screeching sound swallowed the voices.
Somebody had pushed her, and then it had all gone dark.
“Miss Kara!”
Kara shook her head, trying to focus on the voice speaking to her. Someone was trying to pull her up until, finally, a face appeared in her vision. Pen’s green shirt was covered in a thick layer of dust that clung to his sweaty face and hair. Blood dripped from a wound on his forehead, and his sleeve was torn and drenched with more blood.
Wait, blood?
Pen cupped her face, squeezing her cheeks painfully. She wanted to scold him for being so imprudent, but the concern in his expression worried her more than his inappropriate behavior.
“Miss Kara, are you hurt anywhere?”
Kara blinked at the strange question, finally looking around. She was sitting with her back against the wall of a building on Ruby Street, staring at the wide street now covered with bodies—pinned by metal poles or the seats that had been flying in the air just moments ago. Bile rose in her throat as her gaze landed on the torso of a man flattened by the heavy machinery’s central piece, half of his head missing. Nearby, a child lay still, his head twisted unnaturally. One of the horses that had powered the ride was kicking helplessly a few feet away, its frightened neighing fading into silence.
As her eyes roamed further, her throat tightened, and her body began to shake. More bodies entered her vision—more blood, more destruction, and more death.
Kara pushed Pen’s hands away and twisted to the side just in time to avoid throwing up on either of them. When her retching ended, she used the wall to get to her feet. Her knee seemed bruised, and her head pounded, but nothing appeared broken or twisted.
She was lucky, unlike all those people.
“There might be people alive. We need to—” She pushed herself from the wall, but Pen blocked her way.
“They’re being helped,” he assured her, guiding her back to the wall when her legs almost buckled. “We need to get you to a doctor, Miss Kara. I think you hit your head when I pushed you out of the way. I’m so sorry, but if I hadn’t, we might both have died!”
“Thank you.” Kara managed a faint smile, patting his shoulder. “I’ll treat you to a meal when…” she trailed off, her gaze drifting over the carnage again. She still couldn’t process what her eyes were seeing. “What… What happened? Everything was fine, and then…”
Pen opened his mouth to reply, but someone shouted his name. Kara tried to see what was going on, but too many people were moving through the wreckage, searching for survivors or pulling bodies from the remains of the contraption.
“Miss Kara, they need more help, so I’ll go. Stay here until I come back for you.”
Kara opened her mouth to protest—she was older and should be the one taking care of him, especially since he looked more injured—but he had already run off. She stared after him for a moment, then decided she couldn’t simply stay put. She was just about to head back to the restaurant to organize help when voices calling her name made her pause.
A moment later, Elene and Marden appeared, jumping over bodies and rubble, with Sir Ramor following behind them, pale as the moon.
“Thank the gods you’re alright!” Elene sighed, catching Kara’s head to examine the throbbing wound on her forehead. “This needs treatment, but there are too many people needing help. Do you have a healer at home? If not, go to the Imperial Palace. Marden, can you take her?” Elene turned to the man behind her, but he was too busy staring at the street with a haunted expression. “Marden!”
“What?” He jumped, finally looking at Elene. “Fuck, how did this happen? This is… they…”
“I’ll take her,” Sir Ramor interjected, stepping closer with a handkerchief pressed to his nose. “I need to report this to His Majesty immediately. If this isn’t handled swiftly, it could spiral out of control since everyone knows the crown arranged this festival.” His gaze rested on Kara, his lips tightening. “Are you well enough to explain what happened?”
Kara nodded instinctively, even though she wasn’t sure what exactly did happen. He helped her to her feet, nudging her back in the direction of the restaurant while she tried to spot Pen.
“My carriage is waiting nearby. Let’s go.”
“We’ll handle things here and wait for the Imperial guards,” Marden said distractedly. His gaze landed on something on the ground, and he shuddered, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.
Kara allowed Ramor to escort her to his carriage, noticing how he kept her on the outside of the street, shielding her from the worst of the carnage. She considered telling him she’d probably seen worse, but the memory of the child’s lifeless body silenced her. He helped her into the carriage and instructed the driver to take them to the palace without stopping anywhere. They rode in heavy silence, both staring at their hands as the nightmarish events replayed in their minds.
“I’m sorry for dirtying your carriage,” Kara said, unable to endure the silence any longer. The long ride had given her plenty of time to notice that her dress was covered in dust and dirt, and blood stained her skirts. Her hands and face were sweaty, no doubt smeared with grime and tears. She couldn’t present herself in front of the Emperor like this.
“That’s not important,” Ramor murmured. “Apart from the wound on your head, are you hurt anywhere else?”
“No,” Kara replied, daring to look at him. He seemed uncomfortable, his eyes were dark with horror, and he kept glancing outside as if expecting an attack. As they finally entered the Imperial Palace, he seemed to relax slightly.
A few guards met them at the Palace’s entrance, giving them apprehensive looks. Once he reported the reason for their visit, they exchanged a quick glance before one of them ran off somewhere. The remaining soldiers led them toward the Emperor’s office but made them wait outside. Ramor paced impatiently while Kara tried to gather her thoughts so she could give her report without babbling like an idiot.
“Kara?” A familiar voice called her name, and she turned against her better judgment. Her eyes met Blaine’s, and his eyes widened as he took in her appearance. He shoved the documents he was holding into the hands of the attendant escorting him and ran to her, cupping her face. His eyes darted to the wound on her forehead, and the worry that overtook his expression almost took her breath away.
“What happened? Why are you hurt? Where is the doctor? What are you…?” he shot question after question, his hands shaking while he barely touched her cheeks, as if afraid he’d hurt her. “By the gods, what—”
“The Emperor will see you now.”
Kara turned to see His Majesty’s younger aide, who had just stepped out of the double doors leading to the Emperor’s office. He gave her and Ramor an impatient look, holding the door open for them. Kara moved to enter, but Blaine’s hands held her in place.
“Can’t you see she is hurt?” he snapped and the aide raised an eyebrow like he couldn’t understand the question. “Let the doctor treat her first and then have her meet His Majesty.”
“Her injuries are not life-threatening,” Sir Serrill said calmly. “And I’m afraid this is an urgent matter. Please step aside, Sir Blaine.” His eyes moved away from Blaine, stopping on her and Ramor. “Sir Ramor, Lady Kara, please enter. Now.”
Kara caught Blaine’s wrists and carefully pushed them away, striding toward Serrill without looking back. She entered His Majesty’s office first, and once Ramor followed, the door was closed behind them. Dropping into a shaky curtsy, she lost her balance almost immediately and it was only to Ramor’s quick reaction that she didn’t fall.
“Please, be at ease,” the Emperor commanded from behind his desk, his face dark and serious. “Serrill, help the lady sit. She’s barely standing on her feet.”
“No, I’m f…” Kara started to say, but the aide was already escorting her to one of the chairs in front of the desk. The look on Yulien’s face told her not to argue.
Ramor was invited to sit as well, and the Emperor studied them for a few long seconds, his expression completely devoid of emotion.
“Tell me what happened.”
