If the Walls Fall (Book One of the Ascend Trials) by K. Malady

Author:K. Malady [Malady, K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: K. Malady Books
Published: 2022-05-16T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

I immediately search for Tans. A man wearing a black armor directs me to one of the beautiful green spaces in Ilsen. I find him in a floral garden balcony, one that spans the width of the throne room as the stained-glass windows act as one side of the square garden. I scowl at the windows as I trudge towards Tans.

“Did you know about the Trials?” I growl, poking him in the chest when I get near enough.

“Kórol—Kórol told me this morning,” he stammers. “Had I known you were unaware, I would have told you when you awoke.”

“When did Fílga know? Kórol?” Tansr says nothing. “Why didn’t they tell me? Warn me?” My voice catches in my throat.

Even though we’re alone in the garden, Tansr keeps his voice low. “I don’t know what Kórol knew, love. But you shouldn’t worry.”

“Not worry?” I hiss. “Fílga said the Candidates who failed died. I’m a little worried!”

“That will not happen to you. Those Candidates came to the Kingdom as false saviors, to take from us. You didn’t, you have said it yourself. You didn’t ask to be tested. They did, and the Trials stole their lives as consequence. You gave no claim and asked for nothing. If you fail, no harm will become you.” He shakes his head hard enough to dislodge the two small braids he tucked behind his ears. “I will not—my King will let nothing hurt you.”

“That isn’t that reassuring.” There’s no guarantee Kórol won’t overreact when he realizes he’s infatuated with a normal person and not the Sìnnách. There’s no guarantee the Great Matron won’t bring down justice when she discovers the mistake. I find myself longing for the early days when I thought this was a dream, or the weeks during the pilgrimage when foot callouses and worrying about my feelings for Tansr were my only problems.

He stares at me, eyes intent with a frown on his handsome face. Silently, he holds out his hand and I let him direct us down a row of delicate mauve irises. After we turn to the next row, he speaks. “I see the torment within your eyes. The nutty color appears bruised, like a wilted autumn leaf.”

“Thanks a lot,” I grumble.

He smirks and stops to smell a sunny yellow daffodil. “As you see, I have a vested interest in cheering you up. You are much more pleasing to look at when you remain in high spirits.” I’m in no mood for false assurances and turn to go back inside with a sigh. He grasps both hands in his and rubs them. “I jest, Butterfly. Please. Let me hold your worries for you. Surely the Trials did not cause you this much misery.”

I close my eyes to avoid the sincerity on his face. “It’s too much—the Candidacy and Trials and trying to prepare for Her.” And I can’t do any of it.

“Shall I tell you the story of the caterpillar?”

With a snort, I pop my eyes open. “Again, with the butterflies

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