Ten left. There were ten of us left whose fate had yet to be decided. By the end of the night that would all change.

The final event would be held in a different part of the palace than the first two. There had been more of us then and with us now down to only a handful, there was no reason to compensate for the size.

When Asher brought me to the double doors there were two servants waiting on either side. They reached for the door handles but Asher stopped them from opening them. He turned to me and took my hands—which were covered in long elbow-length gloves matching the amazing gown—in his.

“No matter what happens tonight, I want you to remember one thing.”

“What’s that?” I asked with a hint of a smile.

Asher leaned in and whispered in my ear, “You have the power to lift Alban back to greatness or burn it to the ground.”

Shocked by his words, I pulled back. I didn’t have a chance to ask him what he meant by it all before he turned on his heels and walked away, leaving me alone at the doorway to my fate.

The two servants opened the double doors and I no longer had time to dwell on his words. I forced the shock from my face and hoped I gave a pleasant look as the cameras took me in. Ignoring them, I walked into the room which ended up being at the top of a large set of stairs. They led down into the room where the rest of the party was in full swing. There were fewer guests this time but the ones who had been chosen as companions were there with their counterparts.

I searched the room for a familiar face but found none. Marsha hadn’t been picked yet so he had to be there somewhere. Tillie had been sent home so I couldn’t rely on her to be there to calm me with her dreamy way of speaking. Narq, though we weren’t friends had saved my life and would be better than nothing, but since he had been chosen as a servant I doubted he’d be invited to the final party. As I descended the stairs I wondered if Violet would attend, or if she would still be in the infirmary.

I thought of searching for her but as I came down the stairs all eyes turned to me. The room hushed as a figure stepped out of what seemed like nowhere and waited at the bottom of the steps.

Patrick.

Dressed in a tailored suit of white, with his hair and pale eyes he would easily blend in with the walls had it not been for the blood red rose in his lapel. As it was the sight of him made my stomach flutter. I still didn’t know much about him, certainly nothing I didn’t know already. Asher had thought we would make a good match so there must be something about him that I would like—besides his good looks.

“Hello,” I breathed out, my heart pounding in my ears as I stepped off the final stair.

Patrick smiled down at me his eyes crinkling at the sides. “You look lovely. Asher has outdone himself.”

I blushed and dipped my head down. “He’s really great.”

“I would know,” Patrick chuckled, “He’s my cousin.”

My head jerked up at his words. “What?”

The look on my face must have been more upset than I realized because Patrick quickly tried to explain. “A distant cousin. Not many people know—his request, not mine—something about not wanting to be treated differently because of our relationship.”

“I could see how that would bother him,” I commented.

Asher didn’t seem like the type to want to stand in anyone’s shadow. With his wonderful creations, he wanted to be known for his talents and not have people only like them because of who he was related to. I knew the feeling. All too often I’d been given special treatment in school because of my father, which had made it even harder to make friends. Although, even if I had been able to I wouldn’t have hidden my father; I loved him too much.

“I have to say,” I started after a moment, “I don’t see the family resemblance.” I walked deeper into the room forcing him to choose to follow me or not.

But he did, to my surprise.

“Well,” he said from my side. “Like I said, it’s a distant relationship. I’d be surprised if you had guessed on your own.”

“Still,” I said, stopping at the refreshment table and picked up a glass of something bubbly. “He's so full of life and excitement while you...” I trailed off and then clamped my mouth shut as I realized who I was talking to. I’d pretty much insulted the leader of all of Alban to his face, while we were on camera. If I didn’t get kicked out for that I’d have to be sure to watch myself in the future.

But I shouldn’t have worried, Patrick threw his head back and laughed. A sound that drew the attention of many females, and even a few males. It was the kind of sound that swept through you and settled low inside making you feel warm and fuzzy.

“You are definitely something else, Clarabelle—I mean Clara.” He caught himself at the last minute as he grinned down at me with a twinkle in his eye.

“So, I’ve been told,” I muttered and buried my face in my glass. Maybe if I drank enough I’d sound something more like a human being.

Patrick wasn’t going to let me wallow though. He took the glass from my hand and sat it on the table and then offered me a hand. “Dance with me.”

It was a command, not a question. One I wanted to obey but before I could an unpleasantly familiar face appeared next to us.

“Fancy meeting you here, Patrick,” Zara cooed completely ignoring my presence as she shoved her way between us.

I stared at the girl in utter revulsion and any good feelings I had begun to harbor for our leader, completely vanished. Without a word, I turned on my heel and pushed my way through the crowd. Rage boiled inside of me as I held my skirts in my hands, not caring who was watching. I didn’t stop until someone caught me by the shoulders, pulling me to the side.

“Marsha.” I almost sighed in relief when I saw his face.

“Where are you going in such a rush?” he asked smiling, but when his eyes focused on my face his expression wilted. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I snapped and then bit the inside of my cheek and changed my answer. “Everything.”

Our eyes met the camera which had started to come our way. We couldn’t talk freely here. Not without having it broadcasted across Alban—or at least the Inner Circle.

“Here.” Marsha took me by the hand and led me across the room and out a door.

Cool air touched my bare shoulders. We were outside and it wasn’t like the balcony in the other room. The door led to a part of the garden I hadn’t had a chance to explore. Immediately I felt better than I had in days.

Marsha brought us over to a bench and sat me down. I tilted my head back and stared up at the dark sky, but just like in the Inner Circle there were too many lights to see any stars. Just one more thing they had taken away from me.

“Now,” Marsha said, pulling my attention away from the sky. “What happened?”

My anger had lessened since we had come outside but it raged back up as I thought of Zara. “They let her stay.”

“Who?”

“Zara,” I snapped. “She already killed one of the guests and tried to kill me. Not to forget she had just beaten the crap out of Violet in front of everyone. But here she is.” I jerked my hand toward the ballroom. “Walking around making people’s lives miserable with no repercussions. Why?” I asked turning my gaze to Marsha. “Why would they let her stay?”

Marsha shrugged. “She’s the mayor’s daughter,” he said as though it explained everything.

“So that gives her leave to commit murder?” I snarled. “She’s not untouchable. Being the mayor’s daughter doesn’t mean that much, does it?”

“Maybe they thought it would look bad if they got rid of her? She has made things a bit livelier.” I snorted and he paused shooting me a look. “Sure, the way she is going about it is completely wrong and messed up, but you have to think of it from their side. They sit up here in their palace having little to do with us down below. This is the only time they can make a real impact on us. Maybe they planted Zara to create the extra conflict to show the rest of Alban that they aren’t untouchable.”

I blew out a harsh breath. “It’s a shit way of showing it. Why make us all dress up just so they can slaughter us?”

Marsha patted me on the shoulder, “They’re the Crimson Fold; it’s what they do.”

We were quiet for a few moments before Marsha spoke again. “You know what’s funny?”

“What?” I glanced over at him, ready for anything to get my mind off what lay inside.

“That before this,” he gestured to the palace. “Before we both got invited, I was working up the nerve to ask you out.” He laughed bitterly before giving me a lopsided grin. “Looks like I’ve lost my chance.”

I sat there, dumbfounded. Not that someone liked me but that Marsha had actually thought he needed to work up the courage to ask me out. I wasn’t desperate by any means—I mean I didn’t have a lot of guys beating down my door. None actually. But I’d thought I was more approachable than he was making me out to be. Plus, I’d always found Marsha attractive but not someone who would be interested in me— a girl from the Glade.

“You should have just asked,” I said a moment later. “I would have said yes.”

“Yeah?” His eyes locked with mine surprise on his face. “Well, then if we get out of this alive and not bound to anyone, I’ll hold you to it.”

“Count on it.” I smiled and held his hand in mine, tightly.

Just then a throat cleared beside us. We turned at the same time to see Patrick Blordril standing with his hands behind his back and a frown on his face. Instantly, I dropped Marsha’s hand. I didn’t know why but I felt guilty for talking about going out with him when I was supposed to be aiming to be Patrick’s convert. Whatever that really entailed.

“I’ll...just let you two be alone,” Marsha said, standing from the bench. He nodded to Patrick and gave me a meaningful look before heading back inside, leaving me alone with the leader of all of Alban.