Page 73 of Cursed By Gold

"Child, you're back early. How was the feast?"

I hesitate, unsure how much to reveal. But something in me needs to unburden, if only partially. "It went well. But on my way home, I witnessed a group of masked thieves attacking the king in the alley near Darren's bakery." Technically true, if lacking context.

Fairy Godmother's eyes sharpen. "Masked thieves, you say?" She leans forward intently. "Were they displaying any sigils or colors to identify who?"

I shake my head. "They wore plain clothing. Definitely weren’t anyone from our guild. But they used violent magic - spells meant to maim or kill." I suppress a shiver at the memory.

"Hmm." Fairy Godmother rubs her chin in thought, brow furrowing. "It’s dangerous to have an unknown moving withing our territory. I will look into this."

I sag slightly in relief. If anyone can uncover the truth behind the attack, it is her.

She studies me closely. "You seem very shaken. Is the king alright?"

“He was stirring when I left.”

“Did he see you?”

I shook my head no, “I don’t think so.”

She crosses her arms and looks me up and down. “Scarlet, I know you’ve grown fond of the king. Is there more to this you aren’t telling me?”

I meet her probing gaze. "I've said all I can for now. Please trust that I'll explain everything when the time is right."

She holds my eyes for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Very well. Get some rest, child."

I embrace her, gratitude welling up. She always knows when not to push. With a murmur of thanks, I retreat out of the room before she can read anything more in my face. I hate deceiving her, but have no choice for the moment. I can only pray my omissions do not create deeper problems down the road.

All I can do is pray my impulsive actions have not destroyed any last chance of escaping my hopeless fate. Please, Halisar, if you’ve truly decided to bless me, please let King Remme remain ignorant of my role in all of this. If he unmasks me now, after coming so agonizingly close to freedom, I do not know how my weary heart could bear it.

The Final Trial

Scarlet

The waiting chamber echoes with nervous energy as we competitors huddle together, straining to hear the muffled crowds through the arena walls. I wring my damp hands, trying to ignore the anxious flutter in my stomach.

Rose gives me a bracing smile from across the room.

The chamber doors grind open and we all flinch. Another competitor's name is called. She rises unsteadily, face bloodless but resolute. We watch her go with shared dread.

"Reckon it's a pit of vipers out there?" someone jokes weakly. A few manage thin laughter. Anything to distract us from toxic thoughts.

"Maybe they finally perfected that skeleton army," pipes up a scrawny youth. More strained chuckles.

My lips twist wryly. "It's a baking contest, clearly. Dragon egg souffles." The tense group latches onto the absurdity, tossing out equally ridiculous guesses to release nervous energy.

But all too soon, the doors open again. "Scarlet Merheart." My name rings out and the room stills. I stand slowly, my legs wooden.

The walk through the torch-lit stone corridor stretches endlessly, my blood rushing loud in my ears. But I keep my spine straight and head high. Let the final challenge come. I may have barely been able to sleep last night from my mind never shutting up about everything between me, the king and Lord Greystone, but I am ready.

The attendant gestures me wordlessly through the heavy iron door and I stride into the unfamiliar circular chamber beyond, shadows dancing across robed chanting figures...

My heart hammers as I'm led not toward the arena gates, but down a torch-lit stone corridor. None of the previous trials began this way. Apprehension and confusion churn in my gut. Where are they taking me?

The passage ends at an imposing iron door engraved with arcane symbols. My escorts gesture wordlessly for me to enter. Squaring my shoulders, I step through into a circular room ringed by robed figures chanting in an ancient tongue.

Their strange melody reverberates through me as I'm directed to stand in the room's center, marked by a wide circle filled with similar runes. Power builds on the air, raising the hairs on my nape.

The lead mage approaches, pressing a smooth black stone into my palm. "Hold tight. And remember - perception is fleeting, only courage endures." Before I can question the cryptic words, the chanters raise their voices. Blinding light floods my senses.

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