RULES OF THE DAMNED

7. CLASH OF THE PRETENDERS

The master of ceremony retold the history of Erideth, highlighted the importance of the Selection, until she reached the most important part—the introduction of the candidates from each bloodline.

“From the First Bloodline, the original royalties of Erideth, the descendants of our Beloved Ephraim Lorison, we have three candidates. Belladonna Lorison, Ricin Lorison and Thallium Lorison!”

With the courtesy I’d practiced, I stood, smiled, waved at the crowd and bowed down. Thallium did the same, not as gracefully as I did, like he would rather talk to a tree right now than be here. While, of course, Ricin, the attention seeking asshole, made it with exaggeration. He spread his arms wide, as if he was urging the people to chant his name louder before he ran in front; waved like he already won and bowed down dramatically. My father might be on the verge of having a heart attack after seeing my brother’s antics, but the crowd roared in excitement.

Damn it. It seemed he was not joking when he told me he was hellbent on winning the throne. Good luck with that, brother. If the crowd would be the judge of who would be the sovereign, it was an excellent move. Unfortunately, they were not.

“From the Second Bloodline, the descendants of Dimitri Yllarion, the sons of the former sovereign, we have two candidates. Sinister Yllarion and Devious Yllarion!”

My back straightened when the two of them stood and bowed down to the crowd. Unlike my brother, they did not do anything dramatic. The actions were too normal, yet the people who witnessed it screamed like they saw the most remarkable candidates. I couldn’t blame them. My senses were too attuned to my surroundings and I could feel it, too. The Yllarions had this certain magnetic appeal, a trait of charismatic leaders. Any woman who was not immune to their charms would agree to kiss the floor they walked on if they commanded.

“From the Third Bloodline, the descendants of Ferdinand Villaciente, we have two candidates. Natalie Villaciente and Jackson Villaciente!”

Silvester warned me about the Villaciente Siblings. I could still remember his words like he just told me yesterday.

“Their father, Anton Villaciente, is my brother by heart. Be cautious with his children. They are dangerous.”

My young and naïve self then asked. “If they are your friend’s children, Father, why should I be cautious with them? We can... We can be friends, too.”

One moment I was smiling in anticipation, the next moment my father’s belt hit my cheek. The impact almost knocked my breath away, but I did not cry, no matter how painful it was. His angry eyes froze me in place.

“Be friends with them?” He laughed. “You can pretend to be their friends, daughter, but never ever think of being their genuine friends. His father is my brother by heart. You know what that means? Find out. You can only eat after you give me the correct answer.”

The answer did not come easy. Almost two days later, while I was close to death, I realized what he wanted to hear. But I did not achieve it alone. The shadow aided me.

“You and Anton are the same, and that makes his children dangerous, Father. Because if you train me this hard, he does that also to them.”

“Not entirely right, but acceptable. We are the same in mindsets, but I’m always better than anyone else, daughter. Be my successor.”

Now, while looking at Anton’s children, Silvester was indeed right. Natalie’s blondie hair swayed with the wind. Although she might look like a typical mean bitch at first sight, I knew there was more to that. Her brother stood beside her, and together they bowed down.

“From the Fourth Bloodline, the descendant of Aaron Zaragoza, we have one candidate. Spencer Zaragoza!”

The introduction continued for almost one hour. Among the other twelve bloodlines, my supernatural senses detected who I should be cautious of, other than the Yllarions and the Villacientes. I took mental notes and promised myself that I would outsmart them. The throne might not tempt me, but I would not enter the lair tomorrow without being armed with aces. I was not named as a poison for nothing; my father made sure of that.

“Reminders, Candidates. Prepare yourself because tomorrow, the games of the cunning will officially start. May the greediest heart win the throne!”

I sighed. Before I could leave my chair, Sinister leaned closer.

“I know what you did, Lady Poison. The Jurists gave their verdict already, but I know you have something to do with the death of Sandra. If you want my mouth shut, I suggest don’t antagonize me,” he whispered.

Before I could digest his words, or make a smartass retort, he was gone. When realizations dawned on me, my head was in chaos, but my rage prevailed.

‘You cannot just threaten me, asshole, and get away with it.’

With that in my mind, I left the place.