Page 27 of Cursed By Gold

Poisoned

Scarlet

Rose and I compare our answers for the foreign dignitary clue in hushed tones.

I shake my head. "I guessed Andalucia, but it must be wrong."

Rose frowns. "I said Meria, though now I'm not sure. Neither of us got it right."

"True, but we figured out it was the woman in green."

Rose nods. "At least we got that part. And we were observing everyone else."

I glance around apprehensively. "Who do you think will be the biggest threats?"

Rose considers. "The woman with throwing knives. And the man meditating in the corner."

"The knife thrower is skilled, but the meditating man..." I pause. "He seems too calm. I wonder what he's really thinking."

Rose hums in agreement. “Same. The quiet ones are often the most dangerous."

“Well that eliminates you then.”

I choke on my laugh after seeing the look she sends my way.

Before we can continue, a stocky man with cropped brown hair steps forward confidently. He cries out and collapses to the floor, foaming at the mouth.

Poison.

I exchange an uneasy look with Rose. This is serious—we are truly fighting for our lives. Our alliance is needed to survive, but can I trust her? Only one of us can win.

Rose speaks first. "We'll watch each other's backs. Work together as far as we can, then split the winnings."

Her words ease my tension, but I can't fully trust her yet. "Agreed. But cross me, and you'll regret it."

"Likewise," Rose says coolly. "I have no interest in dying here. Do we understand each other?"

"We do," I say firmly. We shake on our renewed, if tentative, alliance. Together we have a better chance of survival, but only one of us can walk away the victor.

As the man continues to writhe in agony on the floor, I hesitate only for a moment before rushing to his side.

"I can help," I tell the shocked onlookers. "Please move."

Rose grabs my arm. "Scarlet, what are you doing? Helping him won't gain you any points."

I shake my head. "I’m not worried about points. I can't just let him die. Not when I might be able to save him."

Rose releases my arm with a frown. "Suit yourself." She sits back down, watching me closely.

I turn my attention to the poisoned man. His face is contorted in pain, his breathing labored. This isn't good. I take his arm to check his pulse. It's rapid and thinning. Panic rises in my chest, but I force it down. I need to stay focused.

"We need to purge the poison from his system," I say firmly. "I need boiled water and find me ginger root if you have any. I need it to be pure. Hurry!"

Several servants rush to get the items I request and return in mere moments. My hands tremble as I pour the hot ginger water into a bowl. Desperate to help the man, I hold his head up and force the liquid down. His body convulses violently as he gulps it down, while the other contestants watch with intense eyes.

What if this doesn’t work? What if I make it worse?

Suddenly, his body relaxes and his breathing returns to normal—with relief. I exhale the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

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