Page 61 of Cursed By Gold

"Me? I'm afraid I don't have the gifts for divination," I say lightly, shuffling the deck while I gather my thoughts. In truth, my only experience is the card tricks I used to swindle gullible marks in my youth.

But perhaps some artful deceit is called for to keep our game going. A sly smile tugs at my lips as an idea forms. Let's see if I can turn the tables on His Majesty.

I flip over the Ten of Swords, depicting a brutal backstabbing. "Betrayal by someone trusted," I proclaim in an exaggerated gasp. "Tell me, does this represent a devious advisor? A jilted lover out for revenge?"

The king's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. A hit already - interesting.

I flip over the next card, revealing The Moon. "Ah, a card shrouded in shadows and mystery," I say, giving the king a meaningful look.

"It often represents things hidden beneath the surface, secrets and illusions that distort the truth."

I trace my finger along the card's crescent moon, watching Remme closely. "Perhaps deep down you conceal something that could shake your very rule if revealed?"

The king tenses almost imperceptibly, though his expression remains guarded. I'm struck by an intuition that my theatrical reading has hit uncomfortably close to some truth he wishes hidden.

"But let's move on from such gloomy cards, shall we?" I continue breezily, turning over the next illustration. "So many more secrets left to unveil, Your Majesty..."

I embellish my act with wild predictions, all the while scrutinizing Remme for any reaction to my prodding about concealed truths. His disciplined mask reveals little, but I sense the Moon's imagery troubles him. What damning secret might the king be hiding? His reactions has me only more curious.

Undeterred, I press on to reveal the Two of Cups between two embracing figures. "How romantic - the start of a deep, passionate union. Tell me, does someone have the King's affections?" My eyes dance with wry humor. "Some delicious court scandal to spice up these mystical ponderings?"

The slightest muscle ticks in King Remme's chiseled jaw, a subtle tell that I've struck a nerve somewhere. Resisting the urge to crow in delight, I consider my next probing move carefully.

When the Hierophant emerges with his haughty, patriarchal glare, I can't resist one last playful barb. "Oof, what an arrogant old fool who fancies himself above the world," I spew out dramatically. "Stubbornly blind to the vibrancy and progress unfolding all around his crusty, shriveled existence. I'd hate to be in his royal doghouse!"

An impish grin curves my lips as I take in King Remme's reaction - the slight flush, the muscle twitching in his chiseled jaw. Clearly my thinly veiled taunts about scandalous unions and carnal cravings have struck a nerve with the usually unflappable king. I lean back in my chair, feigning nonchalance as I study him over the rim of my goblet.

"Why Your Grace, one might get the impression you find certain...interpretations rather provocative," I murmur. "Though I can assure you, my interest lies solely in understanding the deeper mystical truths the cards reveal."

I flip over the next illustration - the Eight of Cups, depicting a solitary figure turning away from a series of full chalices. "The endless quest for something more meaningful than mere material comforts and shallow pleasures," I proclaim solemnly. "A courageous soul's journey to slake an unfulfilled inner yearning."

My gaze holds his as I add with pointed significance, "Even at great personal risk, one is compelled to abandon the safe, known path to pursue deeper, soul-nourishing purpose."

The king's throat works as he swallows hard, something flickering in those depths. Is that understanding dawning in his stare? I resist the urge to hold my breath as the weighted silence stretches between us.

At last, his lips twisting wryly. "You spin quite the captivating tale, my lady. Although, sometimes the meanings can be difficult to grasp."

Back to my lady are we?

The subtle challenge in his words sends a delicious shiver of anticipation down my spine. Slowly, deliberately, I turn over the final card - The Lovers, an entwined couple gazing into each other's eyes with unabashed adoration.

"Does it?" I murmur huskily, holding his heated stare as my fingers trail over the intimate illustration. “See, here we see the ultimate spiritual and physical union - souls destined to converge, no matter what conventions or obstacles fate puts in their path."

My breath catches as Remme leans closer, the magnetic pull between us becoming nearly irresistible. Yet some primal part of me yearns to prolong this delicious game of truth and daring just a little longer.

Forcing a blithe tone, I gather the deck again with slightly shaky hands. "But enough divination for one evening. Shall we move on to...lighter diversions?"

King Remme's eyes fairly smolder into mine as his lips curve into a slow, knowing smile. "By all means," he rumbles in that sinfully rich timbre. "I find myself quite diverted already."

The Third Trial

Scarlet

The roar of the crowd swells to deafening levels as we take our places in the arena, hitting me like a physical force. My heart is pounding as I gaze up at the lavish private viewing boxes dotted along the highest levels.

Of course the privileged nobles get the best seats, peering down their noses at us like prize livestock. I sneer as my eyes land on one box in particular - there's Lord Graybastard himself, smirking arrogantly and no doubt poised to brag at the first opportunity. Just wait until he gets a load of the stunt I'm about to pull.

Before I can map out my opening gambit, a wizened old announcer stalks out to the center of the arena floor, leaning heavily on an ornate staff. The craggy lines of his face hint at decades of shouting over rowdy throngs just like this one. He shushes the crowd with an imperious wave of his hand.