Since I had spent most of my time talking with Asher I ended up near the end of the line, shoved between a small girl—who barely looked twelve let alone seventeen—and a long-legged red-hair boy. I didn’t have time to make their acquaintance before Daphne threw open the doors.

My heart beat in my ears as each person went into the room. I was far enough down the line that I couldn’t see much more than a bit of the deep burgundy wallpaper. But I could see the guests come out another set of doors further down the hallway. As they came out, someone directed them to another set of doors on the opposite side. Maybe awaiting room?

Zara was one of the first people to go through the line and come out the other side. The look of triumph lit her makeup-covered face and she flounced into the other room without prompting. A short while later, Tillie came floating out her usual dreamy expression still firmly in place.

When Marsha came through though, he wasn’t smiling. He didn’t seem happy at all. In fact, from where I stood he seemed upset, maybe even angry. I’d never seen the butcher boy in such a state. He’d always had a smile for everyone he met, even my stepmother. It made me wonder what in the room could have upset him so.

I didn’t have to wait too much longer to have my chance to find out. Soon there were only two people in front of me and I could finally see into the room.

From where I stood, the room had to be three times the size of the bedroom they had given me, and even more extravagantly decorated. The heavy drapes were drawn, but there was enough lighting from the crystal chandelier that the outside light wouldn’t be needed. Though I imagined by now it would be early evening, there wouldn’t be much light coming through.

“Come on dear,” Daphne placed a hand on my shoulder and a tottered up to the door.

I tried to control my breathing as I took in the sight before me. A long table lined the opposite wall, twelve people filling the seats behind it. Each of them had a face of stone and a glass in front of them. Every once in a while, one would drink from the glass but for the most part, they were still. My eyes searched down the line, taking in the young faces of those who made of the Crimson Fold. When they landed on Patrick Blordril my breath caught.

I’d only ever seen him on fliers but he was even more otherworldly in person. His hair he wore slicked back and so white it could have only been from age, except he didn’t look much older than thirty. His eyes were just as pale and I almost thought he might be blind, but the way his eyes followed the tall fellow in front of me told me they worked very well.

When the tall boy left the room, all their eyes turned to me. It was my turn now.

“Just walk to the x taped on the floor.” Daphne pointed out a black spot on the floor a few feet away from the table. “Do a slow spin and then exit the other door. Got it?” She locked eyes with me and I nodded though I couldn’t breathe.

As I wobbled from the doorway, my eyes kept straying back to Patrick’s, making me even more unbalanced. Before I even made it halfway to the designated spot, my ankle turned sideways and I almost fell over. Nerves shot and thoroughly fed up, I stopped in my tracks.

Hiking my skirt up, I chucked off my heels and stomped over to the tapped spot. I turned to the watching members spun around quickly and then gave a mock bow. As I came back up, my eyes locked with Patrick’s again and this time there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

Caught off guard by his smile, I stayed a moment too long on the x making the Daphne hiss at me. Glancing her way, I realized my mistake and promptly marched toward the other door. When I got there and my feet hit the soft cushion, I stopped.

“My shoes!” I cried out and tried to go back but the person on my side of the door caught me and forced me to go in the other direction.

Sighing unhappily, I entered the room where the other guests were waiting. Almost an exact mirror of the other room, but instead of a waiting line of judges at the table there was a wide display of food. All the other guests who had gone before me were in varies states of eating or sitting around in lush chairs. Some of them were chatting amongst themselves while others watched with hawk-like gazes as if any of us could strike at any moment.

“Clara!” Marsha’s voice called out to me and I walked over to where he sat with Tillie and two other guests.

“Hi.” I waved slightly at him and Tillie.

“This is Narq and Violet.” Marsha gestured toward the tall boy who had been in front of me in line, and a small girl with eyes the color of amethysts. She had to be Violet, or the boy had some strange parents.

I nodded to them and then sat on the edge of the couch next to Tillie. A servant came up to me and offered me a glass of something bubbling and yellow. Taking the drink, I took a big gulp. The liquid tingled on the way down making me cough.

The others laughed while Tillie patted me on the back.

Thanking her, I gasped, “What is that?”

“Champagne,” Narq told me with a laugh. “Haven’t you ever had it before?”

I shook my head my eyes watering. “No, we don’t have alcohol where I live.”

“Where you live?” Violet asked her eyes lighting up with interest. “How could you not have alcohol? It’s everywhere in the Inner Circle. I’m lucky to keep it out of the house and away from my mother.” A kind of sadness filled the small girl’s eyes and she reminded me of a girl I used to work with back home.

Lira.

While I didn’t have any siblings, I’d kind of adopted her as my little sister. I taught her how to plant the seed and even let her help deliver a calf. She was the closest thing to a sister and a friend I’d ever had. Lira had been a sad creature too. She’d rarely smiled and when she did there was still an underlying frailty to her.

Later, when I found out she had an ailing little sister at home, I did everything in my power to make sure she had fun. Even if I could only get a little smile or giggle out of her, I felt it made up for the misery she had to go back home to. Then one day, when she didn’t come to work, I went to her home only to find out her sister—who had only been four—had passed away. The family was taking a day off to mourn and bury her. I went home myself and cried like I hadn’t since my own mother had passed away.

The next day Lira was back in the fields working, but she didn’t talk for weeks. No matter how much I tried to make her smile or laugh, she wouldn’t. Then I stopped trying and just did my work. Eventually, she got better, but I could still see the effects of her sister’s death in her. I understood better than most, but even I had a hard time comforting her. I just did my best to make her day brighter, which was all any of us could do for each other.

I wondered if Violet had someone in her life who helped her day get brighter.

“Clara is from the Glade,” Marsha answered for me. I shot him a look but he ignored me. I hadn’t wanted to tell anyone. It would make me stand out more amongst the other guests which would only make me an even bigger threat to those who wanted to win the convert position. No matter what Asher thought, I just wanted to stay under the radar, hope they got bored of me and sent me home.

“Where are your shoes? Did someone take them?” Tillie asked, only slightly focused on my bare feet.

“Uh, no.” I rubbed one foot over the other, my face heating. “I kind of kicked them off in there.”

“What?” Violet giggled, coughing in her drink. “You took off your shoes in front of them?”

I winced and took another drink of my champagne, the burn settled into my stomach making me feel pleasantly light. “Yeah, well, they made me trip.”

Tillie’s reminder about my shoes made me realize how utterly useless it was to hope I would go unnoticed. Fat chance of that now. My little show at the first impressions would have definitely made me stand out.

“I would have loved to have seen their faces!” Narq laughed and smacked Marsha on the arm. “Those snooty Fold members probably wet themselves laughing. Can you imagine?”

God, I hope not. Though, I hadn’t paid much attention to the table of judges, the gaze of Patrick following my every move came to mind. Had he laughed at my little act of defiance after I left the room? Did he even care?

I shook my head and stared into my drink. What was wrong with me? I’d decided I wasn’t going to be anyone’s anything and here I was daydreaming about the leader of this whole freak show.

“Well, I’m not surprised in the least,” Zara sneered as she sauntered up to us. Her outfit clung to her body like a second skin, the shiny black material of her body suit made a faint squeaking noise as she moved. The ensemble was topped off with knee-high boots which could be a weapon themselves considering how many spikes covered them.

“What do you want Zara?” I asked, slightly distracted as I tried to figure out how she even got into that thing.

Zara responded with a nasty grin and laced her fingers in front of her. “I just wanted to come over and see how it went, but I can see I was right in thinking you aren’t supposed to be here. Only someone from the Glade would lose their shoes in the middle of such an important moment.” She sniffed, her gaze going up and down my form with distaste. “I’m sure they are writing your name down now to send you packing.”

“Fine with me,” I countered. “I wouldn’t want to rain on your parade, though,” I grinned scanning over her plastic clothes. “You seemed to have that covered.”

The others laughed at my joke but Zara didn’t seem to think it was funny. Stepping forward, she pointed a finger at my chest. “You think you are so clever, but you won’t think so much when I’m sitting at the right hand of the most powerful man in all of Alban and then I’ll send you and your father packing back to the Glade. Or better yet, the Wilds.”

Her threat didn’t bother me. I’d be happy to go back to the Glade, though but the Wilds was another story. No one really knew what lay beyond the edge of the Glades. There were wild animals which could be hunted if one were brave enough. Most people stayed away from the edge; they would rather starve in the Glade than die in the wilderness.

Hardly a choice to me.

I opened my mouth to tell her where she could stick her threat but was interrupted when Daphne entered the room and called us to her.

“Come, come now, it’s time to see how you did.” Her voice held a chipper tone to it as she pointed a remote at the wall. A black screen lowered from the paneling near the ceiling before it lit up and a scoreboard with the title “Election Day One Results.”

“Finally,” Zara growled shoving away from me and heading toward the screen with the rest of the other guests. I didn’t have much interest in seeing how I had done, not unless it was going to help me go home. So, when Marsha stopped in front of me, his hand held out, I frowned.

Not waiting for me to take it, he pulled me up from my seat and said, “Come on, let’s watch Zara’s face as you wipe her off the board.”