Chapter 2: The Royal Trials

Hazel woke to the sound of her chamber doors bursting open with enough force to rattle the crystal ornaments on her vanity. Her mother, Queen Isabelle, swept into the room like a storm front, her silk morning gown rustling with barely contained excitement. Behind her trailed a small army of servants carrying what appeared to be enough fabric to dress half the kingdom.

"Hazel, darling, wake up!" The Queen's voice was pitched with the kind of manic cheerfulness that always preceded her most devastating announcements. "We have the most wonderful news!"

Hazel sat up slowly, her mind still foggy with sleep and memories of the previous night. Leon's hands on her skin, his voice in her ear, his warning about multiple suitors... She pushed the thoughts away as her mother perched on the edge of the bed with unseemly enthusiasm.

"Mother, it's barely dawn—"

"Nonsense! It's nearly nine, and we have so much to prepare." Queen Isabelle gestured grandly to the servants, who began laying out gown after gown across every available surface. "Your father and I have made the most marvelous arrangement. You're going to be so pleased."

The sinking feeling in Hazel's stomach told her otherwise. "What kind of arrangement?"

"Well, after last night's unfortunate incident with Lord Pemberton—" The Queen's smile never wavered, though her eyes flashed with remembered embarrassment. "We realized that perhaps our approach has been too... limited."

"Limited how?"

"Darling, you're twenty-five years old. The kingdom needs an alliance, and frankly, we can't afford to wait for you to develop feelings for just anyone." The Queen stood, beginning to pace with nervous energy. "So your father and I have decided to try something more... comprehensive."

Hazel's blood turned to ice. "Comprehensive?"

"The Royal Trials!" Queen Isabelle clapped her hands together as if announcing a festival rather than what sounded like Hazel's worst nightmare. "Instead of parading suitor after suitor through our halls, we'll bring the most eligible, powerful men from across the supernatural realms to compete for your hand in a grand tournament!"

"A tournament?" Hazel's voice came out as a strangled whisper.

"Three magnificent suitors, each representing a different magical alliance that could save our kingdom. They'll compete in various challenges—tests of strength, wit, magical ability—while courting you properly. It's brilliant, really. Efficient."

Hazel felt the walls of her chamber closing in around her. This was worse than anything she'd imagined. Not just one arranged marriage, but three men competing for her like she was a prize to be won.

"Who?" she managed to ask.

The Queen's eyes lit up. "Oh, darling, you're going to be so impressed. First, we have Alpha Kael of the Eastern Coastal Pack. Werewolves, you know—such strength, such virility. The alliance with his pack would give us access to their territory and protection."

Hazel's hands gripped the silk sheets. A werewolf Alpha. She'd heard stories of their possessiveness, their primal nature.

"Then there's Lord Elian of the Seelie Court. Fae nobility, absolutely devastating to look at, and the magical knowledge his people possess could help stabilize our realm's energy."

A Fae Lord. Even worse. The Fae were notorious for their games, their manipulation, their complete disregard for human emotions.

"And finally—" The Queen paused dramatically. "Duke Caspian Nightshade. Ancient vampire nobility from the European covens. The prestige alone of such an alliance would restore our standing among the magical courts, not to mention the resources..."

A vampire. An ancient one, no less. Hazel felt physically ill.

"When?" she whispered.

"They arrive this afternoon! Isn't that exciting? We've been planning this for weeks, ever since it became clear that individual courtships weren't... working."

Weeks. They'd been planning this for weeks while she thought she had time, while she'd been stealing moments with Leon, believing she could somehow avoid this fate.

"I won't do it." The words came out stronger than she felt. "I won't be paraded around like a broodmare for supernatural royalty to bid on."

Queen Isabelle's expression hardened. "You will, and you'll do it graciously. The magic holding our realm together grows weaker every day. The barriers between us and the void are failing. Without a powerful alliance, we'll all fade into nothing within a year."

"There has to be another way—"

"There isn't." King Edmund's deep voice cut through their argument as he entered the chamber. Hazel's father looked older than his fifty years, the weight of a dying kingdom etched in every line of his face. "I've consulted every magical expert, explored every option. Marriage alliance is our only hope."

"But three men? Making them compete? It's barbaric."

"It's practical," the King said firmly. "This way, you'll have choices. You can observe them, interact with them, and hopefully find one you can at least tolerate. The trials will ensure we get the strongest possible alliance."

Hazel wanted to scream, wanted to tell them about Leon, about how she'd already made her choice. But the words died in her throat. What could she say? That she was in love with her tutor? That wouldn't save the kingdom. Leon, for all his power and knowledge, wasn't royalty. He couldn't offer the kind of alliance they needed.

"Who will oversee these trials?" she asked weakly, grasping for any detail that might give her some small measure of control.

Her parents exchanged a look that made her stomach drop even further.

"Actually," her father said slowly, "we've appointed someone you know well. Someone who understands your... particular needs... and can ensure the trials are conducted fairly."

No. They couldn't possibly mean—

"Professor Darken has graciously agreed to serve as the official overseer of the Royal Trials," Queen Isabelle announced with evident pride. "He'll design the challenges, monitor the suitors' progress, and advise us on their suitability. Given his expertise in magical history and his... familiarity... with your education, he seemed the perfect choice."

The room spun around Hazel. Leon. They'd put Leon in charge of finding her a husband. The man who'd claimed her body and soul just hours ago would now be orchestrating her marriage to someone else.

"I need to speak with Professor Darken," she said, fighting to keep her voice steady. "About the... educational aspects of the trials."

"Wonderful initiative!" her father beamed. "He's in the war room now, reviewing the backgrounds of our suitors and finalizing the trial structure. I'm sure he'd welcome your input."

Hazel barely managed to wait until her parents left before she was out of bed and throwing on the first dress her trembling hands could find. She needed to see Leon, needed to understand what game he was playing.

The war room was in the castle's oldest wing, its stone walls lined with tapestries depicting Silverwood's glory days when magic flowed freely through their realm. Leon stood before a massive table covered in documents and magical charts, his back to the door. Even from behind, he radiated the same commanding presence that had drawn her to him from the very beginning.

"Professor Darken." She closed the heavy door behind her with deliberate force.

He turned slowly, that familiar smirk playing at his lips. "Princess. I wondered when you'd come to see me."

"What the hell is this?" She gestured wildly at the papers scattered across the table. "My parents just told me you're overseeing my... my auction to the highest supernatural bidder!"

"I prefer to think of it as quality control." His tone was maddeningly calm. "Would you rather have some stranger deciding which of these men is worthy of you?"

"I'd rather not have any of them deciding they're worthy of me at all!" She moved closer, close enough to see the detailed dossiers he'd compiled. Each suitor's file was thick with information—magical abilities, political connections, physical descriptions that made her skin crawl.

"Hazel." His voice dropped to the intimate tone he used when they were alone, when he was about to make her forget everything except his touch. "You know this isn't my choice any more than it's yours."

"Isn't it?" She met his golden eyes, searching for any sign of the man who'd held her against the study door just hours ago. "You could have refused. You could have told them to find someone else."

"And miss the opportunity to ensure you're protected?" He moved around the table, stalking her with the predatory grace she'd grown to crave. "These men are dangerous, Princess. Powerful, ancient, used to getting what they want. Would you prefer to face them alone?"

The logic was sound, but something in his expression made her uneasy. There was a calculation there, a satisfaction that went beyond mere protectiveness.

"What aren't you telling me?" she demanded.

Leon's smile turned razor-sharp. "I'm telling you that in approximately three hours, three of the most eligible supernatural bachelors in existence will arrive at our gates. They'll compete for your hand in marriage through a series of trials I've designed specifically to test their worthiness."

He picked up one of the files, holding it out to her. "Alpha Kael. Twenty-eight years old, inherited his pack leadership at twenty-five after challenging and defeating the previous Alpha. Known for his tactical brilliance and unwavering loyalty to those he considers his."

Hazel didn't take the file. "Leon—"

"Lord Elian." He set down the first file and picked up another. "Ageless, of course, but appears to be in his mid-twenties. Third son of the Seelie Summer Court, which means he's had to earn his position through cunning rather than inheritance. Master of illusion magic and mental manipulation."

"Stop." But her voice had no power behind it.

"And Duke Caspian Nightshade." The third file was noticeably thicker than the others. "Over a thousand years old, though he appears to be in his early thirties. Vampire nobility with extensive holdings across Europe. Rarely involves himself in politics, which makes his interest in these trials... curious."

Leon set the files aside and moved closer, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. "These men aren't here to play games, Hazel. They're here to claim you. And I'm going to make sure that whoever succeeds is someone I approve of."

The possessiveness in his voice should have reassured her. Instead, it sent chills down her spine. There was something wrong here, something she was missing.

"What do you get out of this?" she asked quietly.

For just a moment, his mask slipped. She saw something flash in his golden eyes—ambition, hunger, something far more complex than mere desire for her body.

"I get to ensure that my most promising student ends up with someone worthy of her," he said smoothly, but the moment of vulnerability had already told her more than his words.

Before she could press further, a horn sounded from the castle's main tower. Long, deep notes that echoed across the fading magical barriers of their realm.

"They're here," Leon said, his smile returning to full predatory glory. "The Royal Trials begin now, Princess. I do hope you're ready."

As the horn continued to sound, announcing the arrival of her supernatural suitors, Hazel realized with crystal clarity that she was caught in a web far more complex than a simple arranged marriage. Leon wasn't just overseeing her courtship—he was orchestrating it. And she had no idea what his endgame truly was.

The only thing she knew for certain was that her life as she'd known it was over. The trials were about to begin, and she was the prize they were all playing for.

Including, she was beginning to suspect, the man she'd thought was on her side.