Page 26 of Cursed By Gold

I sigh. "You're right. It might be smart to work together."

Rose studies me curiously. "What's holding you back?"

I hesitate, then admit, "I need this win more than you think."

Rose hums thoughtfully. "And yet here we both are." She extends her hand. "So, what do you say? Team up for now?"

I shake her hand, but my grip is firm. "For now." Our truce is uneasy, but it's necessary.

Rose grins. "Alright. What's your plan, partner?"

I look her in the eye. "We compete openly, keep an eye on each other for threats. As we get closer to the prize, we reassess."

Rose nods. "Fair enough. No double-crossing, then?"

"For now." I can't fully trust her, but we need to cooperate.

Rose smiles slyly. "Alright, we understand each other." She holds out her hand again. "Truce?"

I shake it. "Truce." Our agreement is tentative, but for the moment we have a common goal. I can only hope our fragile alliance will last long enough to get me what I need

Tournament Begins

Remme

The contestants file into the dining hall below. There are knights, thieves, nobles, and more—an interesting mix of competitors. My eyes scan the room with calculated precision. Several women could potentially be the one who kissed me, including Scarlet, who stands out with her quiet confidence. Another moves with stealth and grace, a skillful thief perhaps. I continue observing, analyzing skills and threats.

As I observe, several inexperienced pages enter, chatting excitedly. A dignitary sits by one of the women, smiling and introducing himself. She politely nods but does not smile back. Interesting, but not revealing enough.

As the contestants eat, none of them give any indication of being the woman I seek. Irritation gnaws at me. I will have to observe their interactions and reactions more closely. With a heavy sigh, I make my way down to the hall and ascend the dais. The chatter dies down as the contestants notice me.

"Greetings," I begin in a loud, clear voice, "I'm pleased to see such capable competitors. You were all handpicked from many who sought to enter."

There are scattered murmurs and nods in response.

"Though many trials lay ahead, the contest began the moment you entered these walls." I observe as the contestants exchange uneasy glances, their postures stiffening. A woman fiddles with her napkin, another bites her lip. I suppress a smile, relishing their discomfort. Good, let them feel the weight of what lies ahead.

“I must warn you—there are no safety nets. Accidents happen during tournaments. If that poses a problem, now is the time to leave." I pause while the room falls silent. No one dares to move. Excellent.

"As you compete in the trials to come, you will be awarded points for your placements and achievements. The one with the most points at the end will be deemed the winner."

I nod to one of my guards subtly. He withdraws, carrying out the next phase.

"For your first task, a foreign dignitary has been planted among you in disguise. Determine who they are and the country they represent. You have ten minutes. Write down who you believe the foreign dignitary to be and your reasoning, and bring your answers to me."

Excited chatter breaks out as the contestants begin examining clues.

I observe their reactions closely. Many seem overwhelmed, while others simply frown in concentration.

My attention turns to two women—Scarlet and someone who appears to be her acquaintance. They speak in hushed tones, poring over clues together.

I note one contestant touching various tapestries and paintings on the walls, while another returns to the food table,sampling different dishes. A few begin speaking to nearby contestants, listening intently for dialects in their speech. Can they not focus on the task at hand? This is not a leisurely gathering.

A tall woman with long red hair rises to bring me her answer. I take the paper solemnly but do not read it, simply tucking it into my pocket. One after another, they approach, each more oblivious than the last. Do they think this is a game? I repeat the process with each contestant as they bring me their deductions.

When Scarlet approaches, I study her face for any sign of recognition, any tell that she is the woman I seek. But her expression reveals nothing, and she hands me her paper confidently before returning to her seat. Frustrating. She remains a mystery, just like the rest of them.

With a sigh, I wait for the rest of the participants to hand me their papers and exit the hall to determine how well—or poorly—the contestants have done on their first challenge. None have revealed themselves as the woman I am searching for, but I must remain vigilant. The game has only begun, and my patience wears thin. I need results, not idle chatter and incompetence.

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