The petite journalist leans forward, her gaze inquisitive. "Could you elaborate on the artifacts you uncovered in the catacombs? What significance might they hold?"
I glance nervously at Rose and Darius before answering. "The ancient wooden staff I found seems important, but I'm unsure of its true purpose yet," I admit haltingly.
Rose doesn't miss a beat, her confidence unwavering. "The golden scarab symbolizes power and transformation—quite fitting for an artifact from these trials, wouldn't you say?" She shoots me a pointed look, almost daring me to contradict her. A flash of annoyance runs through me, but I bite my tongue, refusing to rise to the bait.
Darius chimes in, holding up the intricately carved lute with a lopsided grin. "I think mine is just telling me I need to pick up a new hobby."
The journalist quirks an eyebrow. "Can you play the lute?"
Darius smirks, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I mean, technically anyone can play a lute. The question is if they could play it well. Personally, no. Not at all."
A surprised laugh escapes my lips before I can stop it. Trust Darius to lighten the mood with his dry wit. Rose shoots him an exasperated look, but I can see the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
The journalist scribbles furiously in her notepad. "And what do you believe these artifacts represent in relation to the upcoming challenges?"
I exchange a glance with Rose and Darius, considering my words carefully. "From what King Remme explained, the artifacts will be used to sort us into teams for the next phase of the trials," I say, recalling the king's words before we entered the catacombs.
Rose nods in affirmation. "Forming effective teams will be crucial for success moving forward. The artifacts are likely symbolic of the strengths and roles we'll need to complement each other."
"An intriguing prospect," Darius muses, his fingers absently tracing the intricate carvings on the lute. "It will be interesting to see how the teams are divided and the dynamics that emerge." A wry smile tugs at his lips as he glances between Rose and me. "Though with personalities like ours, I imagine it could get...lively."
I chuckle at the understatement, my earlier nerves easing.
The journalist seems satisfied with our responses, her pen still dancing across the page. "There have been rumors of an arranged engagement for you, scarlet. One to a rather well off nobleman. Care to comment?"
A hush falls over the room.
My heart sinks, frustration burning hot within me. I meet the journalist's gaze, my voice steady and resolute. "I have agreed to no such engagement. The outdated notion that a parent can dictate someone's future spouse is not only antiquated but harmful. Besides, both of my parents are dead." The weight ofmy declaration hangs in the air, the room falling silent save for the frantic scratching of pens against notepads.
Rose regards me with a mixture of surprise and begrudging respect, no doubt taken aback by my candor. "Well, Scarlet has never been one to shy away from defying expectations," she remarks.
From the Sidelines
Remme
From my concealed vantage point in the tunnels between the walls, I watch Scarlet as she boldly declares her refusal of any arranged marriage. She's certainly bold enough to be the thief I've been seeking, I muse. Her defiant stance and unwavering conviction intrigue me.
As Rose remarks on Scarlet's tendency to defy expectations, the challenge in her emerald eyes hints at the fierce rivalry between the two women. Perhaps one of them is trying to undermine the other's efforts. Darius' teasing holds a subtle respect when directed at Scarlet that gives me pause. He is meant to be my eyes and ears, but could his judgment be clouded?
When Scarlet speaks vulnerably of her desire to forge her own path and find a true sense of belonging, I find myself momentarily disarmed by her sincerity. For a fleeting instant, I see not a suspect, but a kindred spirit yearning for the samefreedom I seek. Get ahold of yourself, I chastise inwardly. She could merely be an accomplished deceiver.
As the interview concludes, I remain skeptical of taking Scarlet's words and actions solely at face value. If she truly wishes to prove herself, she must do so through deeds, not rousing speeches. An intriguing notion starts to take shape - arranging a more...intimate opportunity to observe her unguarded and put her motivations to the test. She's certainly bold and headstrong enough to potentially be the thief. Perhaps a private one on one is in order, a chance to unravel the truth behind that carefully sculpted persona.
I can't deny the flutter of anticipation at the thought of an encounter where her every nuance would be laid bare, quickly tempered by an inward grimace. This is merely a strategic ploy to confirm her loyalty...or lack thereof. Nothing more. Yet a increasingly insistent voice whispers that after the tenderness I glimpsed between us in the palace gardens, a private meeting could reveal depths I have determinedly ignored until now. Would it really be so bad to find someone I could be close to?
No, I can’t let myself get hopeful like that. I know exactly what happens if anyone or anything gets too close. My luck wouldn’t be good enough for the one person that I wouldn’t harm to be someone I actually cared for.
Pushing aside the distracting thoughts, I slip away with renewed determination to orchestrate a discreet rendezvous with this infuriatingly enigmatic Scarlet. Only by observing her in an unguarded, intimate moment can I hope to separate illusion from reality and discern if she is friend or foe. The stakes are too perilous to be swayed by a lovely face and honeyed tongue.
The Arena
Scarlet
After the interview, I make my way back to the competitors' quarters alongside Rose and Darius. The questions from the journalist still linger in my mind, especially the probing ones about my personal life and motivations for entering the tournament. As we walk, Rose shoots me a sidelong glance, her expression unreadable. Anger simmers beneath my skin at the reminder of my stepmother's meddling in my life once again.
"Well, that certainly wasn't what I expected," she remarks, a hint of disdain coloring her tone.
I grit my teeth, fury rising at the journalist's audacity to bring up that wretched arranged marriage in a public setting. When I signed up for this tournament, I never expected my personal struggles to become fodder for public entertainment and gossip.