the otherness came (and I knew its name)

PART 3: WHATEVER HERE THAT'S LEFT OF ME

And beside him...

Someone in the stands above them gasped.

Once, Agatha had been considered the cat in the nightingale's nest.

Now, she looked like a ghost.

Sophie had always been of the opinion that white made Agatha look unwell, since it clashed with her very similar complexion and made her hair and eyes too prominent. Now was no exception-- but this time, that was clearly the goal.

Agatha rode next to Tedros in a white gown, clasped at the throat and by a chunk of diamond, loose and long at the arms but tight at the waist and chest, exaggerating her bony, almost gaunt figure. The high collar made her eyes look prominent and kept her head up, to expose her sharp, sallow, face. A needle-like crown of pearls was set in her dark hair, and her girdle was similarly decorated. She still looked slightly unsteady, Sophie thought, which might account for how close Tedros was riding to her, and why Hester and Eris were on her right and behind her, respectively. But it worked.
She looked like an Ever.

She looked like a martyr.

And it had clearly been her idea.

To come in matching Tedros, while typical of her, would have cast into doubt the idea that she was able to balance him out, and made people sceptical of her being 100% Good. To come in dressed like this, she affirmed herself as an Ever, and proved her ability to moderate Tedros-- but she also made people terribly, terribly guilty. She was a reminder that the position of Tedros's future bride and Queen had been taken from her, in white and crowned as she was...

And in exaggerating the fact she still looked ailing, she was reminding everyone of exactly what Rhian had let happen to her.

Swallowing a smile, Sophie glanced at Rhian, who had gone the same colour as Agatha's dress. She'd been right to assume he was still guilty about this.

People were starting to mutter nervously, glancing between Tedros's stony face and Agatha, sticking out in the sea of black and red.

Tedros reached the field and dismounted, moving around to help Agatha down. Yes, they'd calculated this perfectly, Sophie realised as Hester and Eris followed behind Agatha, faces shadowed by hoods-- supposedly attendants, much more likely to be bodyguards. Ravan and Beatrix walked behind Tedros, Beatrix carrying Tedros's shield and Ravan his banner.

"Claimants," said Queen Jacinda, chosen as the Master of Ceremonies due to her status as the leader of the second most powerful Ever Kingdom, voice booming across the field. "I bid you, shake hands."

Identical disdain crossed both Tedros and Rhian's faces, but Sophie knew they wouldn't be able to get out of it, trying to look favourable as they were. Reluctantly, they stepped down from the twin daises and grasped each other's hands-- Sophie heard the clash of metal on metal as their gauntlets collided and slid, as the two tried their best to crush one another's fingers. She sighed and glanced at Agatha, who caught her eye and flicked her gaze away before she could laugh, visible on the Spellcast screens as they were.

"By coming here, you promise to honour the summons upon which you arrived." said Jacinda. "The victor, decided by the Kingdom Council after the Third Task, will be hailed as the King. The loser must honourably surrender their claim, or face the judgement of the winner, whatever that may be. You must act honourably, as your every move will be observed. In the event one of you yields, the surrender will be final, and the surrendering claimant will be the loser."

Rhian smirked. Tedros scowled. Clearly, they didn't consider that an option.

"Claimants," said Queen Jacinda. "Declare your weapons, and let your Queens proffer your weapon of choice to his majesty, the King of Akgul, who will examine them to ensure they are acceptable for use."