I tried to follow Patrick to the infirmary but one of the other members—a man with black hair and odd reddish-brown eyes—stopped me.

“We will take it from here,” he told me, his hands folded over in front of him, a no-nonsense look on his face.

“But she’s my friend,” I insisted.

The man frowned and then nodded toward my face. “Maybe you should worry more about yourself than your friend. It would be a pity if you scarred.” The way he commented on my scarring was odd. He hadn’t said it in a sarcastic manner, the way most would have. He seemed genuinely concerned I would ruin my face. Guess even the Crimson Fold cared about looks.

The reminder of the scratch on my face made me wince. I reached up to touch the swollen, tender skin, and it came back slightly bloodied. I sighed in defeat. “Where do I go?”

He gestured toward another part of the room where a man and woman sat filling out paperwork. “You can have one of the medics check you out.”

One of medics probably heard him and rose to come toward me. He gestured for me to take a seat, his expression bored as though he saw situations like this all the time. His name-tag read ‘Tomas’ while his ID photo was one of equal disinterest.

He worked in silence, which was fine with me as I tried to listen to what was happening with Violet. They spoke in low murmurs, too soft for me to make out.

“Stay still,” Tomas said when I leaned toward the curtained-off area.

I frowned and tried to obey as he cleaned off my scratches and placed some cool cream on them. Then he bandaged me up and stepped back. He didn’t tell me to leave, just turned on his heel and went back to his desk.

“Uh...” I sat on the table not sure if I should stay or go. When Tomas didn’t turn around, and instead just stared down at his paperwork scribbling occasionally, I felt it safe to leave.

Sliding off the seat, I started toward Violet’s bed but when I came close the same black-haired Fold member came into view. He shot me a warning look and I changed my destination to the door. Giving one more concerned glance toward Violet, I headed out of the infirmary and started the walk back to my room.

No one waited for me at my room and I stripped my clothes and climbed into bed. I lay there for a few moments before I remembered the makeup on my face and I got up and went to the bathroom to scrub it off.

Freshly scrubbed and more tired than I had ever been working a full day in the fields, I crawled under the covers. My mind whirled, today’s events making my head hurt. Zara’s attack hadn’t been secret this time. Surely, she will be punished or better yet sent home, mind wiped and tail between her legs.

My lips curled up at the thought. At least something good had come out of the scratches on my face. I only hoped Violet would be all right. Thinking of Violet made my smile to drop. I didn’t understand why they wouldn’t let me see her. It’s not like I hadn’t been there when she’d gotten hurt. Maybe they thought blood would make me sick? Or worse yet, they could be wiping her memory—however they did that—so she couldn’t tell everyone about it. Which brought up another point: would they send her home? It was hardly fair to punish her for something that had been done to her but it wouldn’t be the first time someone blamed the victim.

The thoughts kept me up well into the night. It wasn’t until the morning light began to filter through the curtains did I finally fall asleep. Then—what felt like seconds later—someone banged on my bedroom door.

Groaning, I slid off the bed and grabbed the robe left for me off the back of a chair. I wrapped it around myself tying it tight as I approached the door. When I opened it, I expected to see Asher, or even the trio, there waiting to make me up for the last night of the Election but Venna stood there with a displeased look on her face.

“Can I help you?” I asked rubbing my eyes with a yawn.

“Oh dear, you look horrible,” she cooed, placing a hand on my cheek. “They really should have had you stay in the infirmary with that other girl. Please tell me they gave you something for the pain.”

I let her fuss over me for a moment before I pulled back and asked, “Didn’t you come here for something?”

Her expression changed to a stony one and she placed her hands in front of her. “I’m to escort you to Lord Beaford. He wishes to have a word with you.”

When my face scrunched up in confusion, I winced. The scratches on my face still radiated pain even with after Tomas’s treatment. The likelihood I wouldn’t scar seemed like a daydream. I’d be happy if it didn’t get infected.

“Give me a moment,” I told her and then shut the door. I searched through the wardrobe for something I could wear. Luckily, I found a long shirt and a pair of pants shoved in the back of the wardrobe. Probably meant for sleeping in but I’d rather wear them than another frilly dress. I quickly dressed and found the boots I’d worn when I’d first arrived, shoved under my bed.

“Ready,” I said as I opened the door.

Venna led me down the hallway, chitchatting about the gossip in the palace. “You know, everyone still thinks you are going to win the head spot. Even though that Violet girl is now number one.”

“She is?” I asked surprised. I hadn’t looked at the scoreboard this morning and, from the way my stomach growled, I’d slept straight through breakfast.

“Sure,” Venna nodded. “But it’s understandable after last night. That other girl, Zara, is it? She’s a nasty piece of work. Shame on her parents.” Her nose curled up in disgust.

I made a noise of agreement and then asked, “Do you know who is left? I didn’t get a chance to look at the board this morning.”

Venna smiled next to me. “Sure, three others were sent home though, but none of any importance, except that poor girl—Tillie, I think her name was. Four times she’s been here and they send her home again?” Venna shook her head in displeasure. “They have surely given her brain damage from wiping her memory so many times.”

“How do they do it?” I interrupted. “You know, wipe their memory? Is it a drug or some technology?”

The older woman quieted for a moment and then said, “I’ve never seen it myself. They always do it in secret but I’ve heard rumors that it’s some form of hypnosis. I wouldn’t know more than that as I’m only a lowly servant.” She said the last bit with a laugh.

“I don’t think so,” I argued. “Even as a servant, it must be better than being forced to dress up every day and be paraded around like a trophy, which I’m sure is to be my fate.”

“Hardly,” Venna patted my hand, stopping us at a door. “You might be chosen for your looks but you’ll stay there because of your wit and your heart.”

Frowning at her words, I didn’t get the chance to ask what she meant before she knocked on the door and walked away. A voice from inside told me I could enter. I twisted the knob and peeked into the room. An office almost exactly like the one my father and I had argued in, but behind the desk sat Beaford.

When he saw me, he folded his hands over in front of him. “Please come in and shut the door behind you. We have much to discuss, you and I.”

“We do?” I asked, coming before him and taking a seat on the opposite side of the desk. I didn’t think there was anything I had to talk about with the short man. Even more so, the way he was looking at me— so possessive—it made my skin crawl.

“Yes, we do,” he answered and settled back into his seat. “I thought you might want to know your friend Violet is perfectly fine. A bit beat up, but she has been taken on as Maleria’s companion and will have the best medics looking after her now.”

“That’s good to know, thank you.” I didn’t know who Maleria was but I didn’t doubt being a companion would provide Violet with more help than she could have gotten back home.

“Also, I’m not sure your relationship to the boy...I’ve seen you hanging around with him as well as a few others, but Narq will be a servant in the palace from today on.” He watched my face for a reaction but I didn’t really have one. Narq had helped me out but that was about it. I didn’t know him any better than I had known Violet, though something in me had compelled me to rush to her aide when Zara had attacked.

When I didn’t reply, Beaford shoulders sagged a bit as if he’d expected me to cry out in objection. He fiddled with a letter opener on his desk and I started to wonder what the real reason was for him calling for me.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, his eyes focused down on the desk. “This is a bit hard for me. I’ve never been good at making decisions. Your friend Tillie being here so many times can attest to that.”

Any respect I had for Beaford—which was little—went down the drain. He had been the one to call Tillie back so many times? The one who had practically destroyed her mind, and any chance of her having a normal life? Just because he couldn’t make up his mind? The sharpened letter opener in his hand suddenly seemed like it would look better in his eyeball.

“I called you here because I want to make an offer for you.” His eyes met mine across the table, but I schooled my features not to show my rage. I’d make him pay for it later. When I sat by Patrick’s side. Then all of them would pay.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice cool making him frown.

He soon got over it though and continued, “I know you are high up on the scoreboard and have no reason to think you won’t be chosen as a convert, but I would like you to think of what that might really mean. If you chose to be my companion you could have all the freedom in the world. Go where you like, do what you like, even wear what you like,” he gestured to my outfit, “But if you become the convert of the leader of all of Alban then you won’t have those luxuries. You will be constantly watched, judged for your every action. Now do you really want a life like that?” he questioned me, as if it were not something I could ever want. “Someone like you could clearly see how such a position would be...unfitting.”

I paused, trying to keep a hold of my emotions before I stood to my feet. “A person like me? You mean, someone from the Glade I take it?” I didn’t wait for him to answer, my anger not letting me hold back any longer. “Maybe it is people like you who are the reason Alban needs a person like me. Someone who can’t be bought, who has the welfare of the people—all the people—in mind, and not just those who live in the Inner Circle and Core.”

“Now, see here -”

“No,” I snapped, cutting him off, “you see here. I will win this and I will become the next convert and have the ear of Patrick Blordril. If not because it is the right thing to do, then because of people like you and Zara who think I can’t.” I stomped from the room, letting the door slam behind me with a satisfying boom.