Chapter 24
Claire
Margot’s hand covered Claire’s again, reassuring her in a way Claire didn’t know was possible. Claire was so intimidated by the powerful woman that she usually tried to mirror Margot’s seamless perfection. For some reason, she had it in her mind that Margot would be mad if she showed weakness.
But Claire had never been weaker, and Margot definitely wasn’t mad. She was … kind.
Behind her, Ren stood like an unflinching sentinel. He’d barely moved in the past few hours, even though he’d been invited to sit more than once. He’d refused, standing behind Margot’s shoulder, where he could best glare at Malachi. Malachi’s ever-present response was to act like Ren didn’t exist.
Claire had to tell herself to obsess about their dynamic later … at some time when she wasn’t totally failing.
“Take a moment,” Margot said as Claire tried to see what she was missing. “You’ve got this.”
No. She didn’t.
What she was looking at was child’s play. Literally. The kind of riddle she used to hear back when she was in school.
Black, blue, and green boxes each hold identical rings.
One ring is a priceless heirloom; one is a replica; one is a stolen jewel in disguise.
Little Red must choose one ring as her legacy, knowing that every generation before her has chosen the heirloom ring.
Before she chooses, Little Red hears that the stolen jewel opens a door to a hidden world, the replica ring is the one her mom always wore in public, and the heirloom ring now bears a curse.
The ring in the blue box reminds her of her dad; the one in the green box catches the light; the ring in the black box has the darkest stone.
Which ring does Little Red choose?
As with all the riddles and tests before, Claire’s answer was the same: Not enough information. She would swear there was no way to know, except for the fact Margot consistently got them right and Ren was answering correctly half the time.
How did they know? How did they so easily see what needed to be pointed out to her in hindsight?
Claire didn’t know what in the world she’d been thinking when she got on the helicopter with Malachi that night, but she wasn’t ready for this. The past several hours had been proof of that.
She couldn’t do this. Literally.
Two-for-thirty. That was her track record so far. Malachi had thrown her a few soft pitches to try to up her confidence, but they’d only made her feel more stupid.
“Draw the picture in your head,” Malachi said. “Start with the girl. What do you know?”
Nothing. She literally knew nothing. Claire was about to open her mouth and say as much when the latch on the main door popped open, echoing through the massive, stone chamber. They all looked over as the monstrous doors swung open in complete silence, revealing a man dressed in a navy suit.
Malachi stood from his chair. “Pardon me for a moment,” he said before stepping away from the table to go speak to the man.
Claire waited until he was a few steps away before turning to Margot. “I’m so sorry.”
Margot squeezed her hand. “For what? Don’t be sorry.”
“I’m useless at this, and I made you miss the ball,” Claire said, hating that tears were appearing in her eyes. She tried to blink them back.
“No,” Margot replied, tracking Malachi for a moment. “This was good for me.”
Claire laughed. “Sitting in a giant room, watching me fail?”
Margot shook her head. “That’s not how I see it. Also…” For the first time since Claire had known her, Margot looked uncertain. “Let’s just say there is no place I would have rather been tonight than right here in this room. I promise. You did me a favor.”
Claire believed her, but it didn’t make her feel any better. No matter what nice words Margot said to her right now, it didn’t change the fact that, in a very short amount of time, a small boy would likely stump her in a room full of royalty and she would lose her chance to work with Jack.
Forever.
All because she didn’t know which ring Little Red would pick. How could she possibly know that? Even if she knew which ring was which, she wasn’t psychic.
There was no way to know for sure.
“You know the only real weakness Malachi exposed tonight?” Margot asked.
Claire let out a bitter laugh. “That I’d make a terrible oracle?”
“No,” Margot said, handing her a handkerchief. “He’s addressing your tendency to overthink.”
“I’m not overthinking,” Claire argued. “There just isn’t enough information.”
“Isn’t there?” Margot said, looking like she wanted to say something, but holding back.
“What am I missing?” Claire asked, hating the frustration in her voice despite knowing there was no reason to hide it.
“Motive,” Ren said, speaking up for the first time in at least an hour.
“Motive?” Claire echoed, and both Margot and Ren nodded.
Claire pointed to the riddle, baffled. “There’s no motive given in this riddle.”
“The motive is built into the character,” Ren said.
“Little Red,” Margot agreed.
“From the fairy tale?” Claire asked, still confused.
Again, they both nodded.
“How can I know her motive?”
“Because you know her story,” Margot said gently, and Claire almost felt like she had a glimpse of what kind of mother she would be. Patient. Kind. Unflinching.
Claire was about to reply when Malachi stepped to her side. “The prince will call for us soon.” He looked across the table to Margot and Ren. “Give us a minute?”
Margot stood and Ren cleared the chair away so her dress wouldn’t hit it as she moved. Claire also stood, only to find herself swamped in fabric, thanks to the collapsed frame under her dress.
Margot saw her predicament and gestured to the two assistants from the jet walking her way. “They’ll take care of that,” she said, giving Claire’s hand one more squeeze. “I’ll see you in the main room, okay?”
Not if Claire found a hole in a rock to hide in first. She didn’t say that, though. She just squeezed Margot’s hand back, exchanged nods with Ren, and watched them start toward the door.
One of the assistants cleared Claire’s chair away while the other started ratcheting her skirt back into shape.
“I was selfish with our time tonight,” Malachi said from her side. “But that is because I don’t know when we’ll see each other again. I wanted to leave you with questions, not overconfidence.”
“Well … mission accomplished,” Claire said, trying for a joke but forgetting the smile.
“You’re going to do fine with the prince.”
How could he say that? She’d just failed for nearly three hours straight. Nothing about that was “fine,” but Claire said nothing as her skirt started ballooning back into shape.
“Look at me, Claire.”
Feeling smaller than she ever had as a child, Claire looked up into those vivid green eyes and couldn’t help but wonder what they saw when they looked back at her.
Given how useless she was, why was Malachi working so hard for her?
Motive.
Maybe it really was her blind spot.
“You know everything you need to know to succeed tonight,” he said as if he believed it.
“No—”
“Yes,” he said. “My apologies for leading you to believe otherwise. Like I said, that was selfish of me. But I allowed myself to indulge in that because your strength has always been real-time scenarios. You proved that before we even arrived tonight.”
What? How? She’d literally done nothing but get dolled up by strangers.
“Remember,” he said, as one of the assistants started touching up her hair. “Heed reasonable fears and factor all the details into your answer. When you dismiss nothing and everything still fits, you will know the answer.”
“Right now my reasonable fears say I’m way out of my league here and should quit while I’m ahead.”
His green eyes looked sad. “That would be a loss. For everyone. Don’t let your courage fail you just because you see an uphill climb in your future. Show up. Do your best, believing the future will be all the better for it. That’s all any of us can do.”
Okay. As far as pep talks went, that wasn’t terrible. It still didn’t wipe away three hours of failing, but it did ease Claire’s urge to seek out holes in rocks.
It did not erase King Arthur’s words from earlier, however.
“What if your dad’s right?” she asked softly. “What if I’m dangerously unsuitable?”
Malachi studied her as the assistant finished with her skirt and started running a lint brush over his suit. “What if you’re one learning curve away from perfect?”
Nice sidestep, but Claire wasn’t accepting it. “Your dad says I’m not good enough.”
“I say you are,” he replied with an arched brow. “Care to prove one of us wrong?”
“Not if I’m dangerous,” she said, Arthur’s words still swimming in her mind.
He let the assistant finish running the lint brush over him before he replied.
“You have only one decision right now,” he said, once again seeming to look right into her soul. “Follow your genius or follow your fears. You can’t do both.”
How did he do that? How did he put all the heckling voices in her head in their place like that?
He stepped up next to her, offering his arm like he had when they first arrived.
“Now,” he said with a sly grin. “Let’s go see if we can outsmart a prince, shall we?”