I awoke that morning with a refreshing jolt of energy. This was (hopefully) my last night sharing a room with Sabine. Though she was still in the competition, she would at least not be my roommate anymore.
I scrambled to pack my things. Sabine was sprawled on her bed, eyes closed, headphones on. She had packed the night before, which annoyed me for some reason. It's like she had to be first at everything. I briefly wondered what she was listening to before deciding the less I knew, the better.
An hour later, we were escorted downstairs and told to wait for our ride. A bellhop graciously took our luggage and wheeled it away to someplace unknown. Four other girls occupied the lobby with us. I didn't know their names but I was starting to recognize faces now.
Our ride to the palace finally arrived. It was one of the white limousines that drove us to the hotel from the airport that first night. I was startled by how long ago that seemed now, even though it had only been a week. It was as if time slowed to a crawl when I arrived in this place.
Inside the limo, I sat as far away from Sabine as possible. I wasn't the only one. The other girls clustered together in the cabin, giving her a wide berth. If she cared, she didn't show it. She leaned across the seat casually, gazing lazily out the window. A strange feeling of kinship came over me, quickly followed by horror. We may have been outcasts in some ways but we were nothing alike.
An hour later we arrived at our destination. The limousine pulled up to the grand, marble columned entrance of a an enormous, sprawling building. Ornate stone carvings decorated every surface, inlaid with gold. Facing the entrance was a garden with a fountain that seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see. A marble statue of a man with a trident stood in the center, shooting jets of water in all directions. The garden was edged with symmetrical, perfectly trimmed hedges.
A beleaguered grunt startled me. I turned away from the beautiful view and saw another one of the king's tall, gray suited guards standing by the doors. Though it was a cloudy day, it was only the afternoon, which led me to believe this guard was not a vampire. I guess it makes sense for the king to have humans in his employ for daylight hours.
"I am here to uh, escort you ladies to your rooms," he said, with an uncomfortable awkwardness that was hard to ignore. I suppose leading a bunch of young women around wasn't a part of his regular duties.
We followed him inside the palace. I fought the instinct to gasp at the sight of the entrance hall. The floors were tiled with marble and gold. Giant columns stretched far above our heads, culminating in a stained glass dome. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Gold framed paintings lined the walls. I resisted the curiosity to stop and marvel at the detail in them.
Two giant doorways stood on either side, leading to different wings of the building. Two grand staircases swept through the center. In between them was a door that led to what I presumed was a courtyard.
Another guard appeared silently behind our group and trailed after us. I wondered if he was here to prevent us from getting lost, or stop us from sneaking off. Probably both.
The first guard took us up the sprawling staircase and into the west wing of the palace. We passed many gilded mahogany doors before turning a corner. The guard stopped at the end of the hall.
"This is where you will be staying. Your roommates have been assigned and your luggage has already been delivered. In a few minutes all of you will be called upon for a tour of the grounds," he said shakily.
I glanced around and spotted a name plate with "A. Crawford" on one of the doors. The plate below it read "S. Wallace." Oh no. What was Sabine's last name? I searched my memories of last night's elimination but came up short.
I spied Sabine ducking into a room across the hall labeled "S. Ambrose" and "A. Irons" and my let out a sigh of relief. Sabine Ambrose, that's right. How had I forgotten? My relief grew when I realized I was finally rid of her. I fought the urge to cheer out loud.
I entered my room and found a bored looking blonde girl lounging on one of the beds. She didn't look up.
"Hi, I'm Avery," I said, noticing that my bags were sitting on the next to the other bed.
The girl glanced over at me lazily. "I'm Skyler," she drawled slowly, as if the simple act of saying her own name was a monumental effort.
Realizing that we weren't going to get anywhere conversation-wise, I walked over to the window and peered outside. Below was a stretch of manicured lawn. Beyond it lay a forest, green and deep. Not much of a view, but then this wasn't much of a room either.
The decor was far less extravagant than the rest of the palace. Two simple oak beds stood on each side of a matching wardrobe, one that Skyler and I were no doubt meant to share. A writing desk with a rose gold lamp stood beneath the window, and I wondered what it was there for. What kind of writing would we possibly need to do?
Across from the beds was a door that led to a tiny windowless bathroom. It had a claw foot tub with an old fashioned shower enclosure. Skyler's makeup and toiletries sat on a shelf by the wrought iron mirror above the sink. I hoped she wasn't a bathroom hog like Sabine.
A knock sounded on the door and I left the bathroom to investigate. Skyler had already gotten up to answer it. The same guard that escorted us here stood in the doorway, dwarfing it with his large frame.
"Please uh, join us for a tour of the palace," he stammered. I hoped this guard wasn't going to be our tour guide because he seriously lacked charisma. Not that I had any right to judge, given my shortcomings in that department.
Skyler turned back to me and nodded in his direction, looking a lot more animated than she had been when I first saw her. We followed him into the hallway, the door creaking shut behind us.
Several girls had already gathered and were whispering excitedly. At the head of the group, surveying the room with her trademark indifferent gaze, was Melanie Caldwell. I didn't know why I was surprised to see her. She was ubiquitous to this competition.
I spotted Lydia several steps behind me and waved. She beckoned me to join her and I obeyed. As I walked over to join her I caught sight of two guards standing in the very back. I had a feeling their presence would be ubiquitous as well.
"Welcome to Rosethorne Hall, ladies," Melanie said, quieting the whispers.
"Now I know your rooms aren't quite as extravagant as you expected. This is because the palace lacks the number of luxury suites to accommodate each one of you, and thus will be reserved until the next challenge is over. The rooms you're staying in now are most often used for the retinue of visiting dignitaries. Sorry to disappoint those of you who were expecting Versailles," she explained. "Now please follow me and I shall show you around the palace grounds."
***
We followed Melanie down the stairs, listening to her explain Rosethorne Hall's history. Turns out the palace was much newer than it looked, having only been constructed ten years after King Nathaniel's ascension.
She showed us the grand dining room where we would be taking our meals; the gigantic library with bookcases that needed ladders; the sprawling ballroom with a grand staircase and the biggest crystal chandeliers I have ever seen. Then she took us to the basement, which had an auditorium that was the same size as the ones in movie theaters, as well as a huge pool decorated with intricate mosaic tiles.
Our final stop was the back garden. On the way there we passed the entrance to the east wing, which Melanie explained was the site of all of the king's political dealings and thus off limits to us. For now. The other off-limits area was the third floor, which was apparently still under construction.
The back garden turned out to be a labyrinthine array of rose bushes in every color imaginable. Columns and statues decorated the grounds. Beyond was a breathtaking view of the sea. I could picture myself spending endless hours here, taking in the scenery around me.
Our tour ended back in the dining room, where lunch was already served and waiting for us. After we were seated Melanie dropped a bombshell. The king would be joining us for dinner to explain the next challenge personally.
***
Lydia invited me to pass the time between lunch and dinner in the pool. I was more interested in the library, but I wouldn't turn down a chance to go swimming.
"I love the design of this place. It's very Grecian," she said when we entered.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"You know, like from Greece. The ancient Greeks did a lot of mosaic art that looks similar to this," she explained.
"Oh," I said, still not really understanding.
"Did they not teach you about that in public school?" she asked.
I tried not to be affronted by the way she said 'public school.' "Not really. I know Greece is a country somewhere in Europe but we didn't really cover much of the pre-war stuff," I explained.
Lydia frowned and bit her lip. She looked like she wanted to say something. There was a furious glint in her eye. She blinked it away and smiled widely.
"Let's go in the water," she said cheerfully. She undressed, revealing her bathing suit, and waded into the pool.
I blinked, thrown back by her sudden mood shift. Shrugging, I followed her in. The water was warm and I felt like I was stepping into a nice, relaxing bath. Only the tub was the size of my house.
Lydia had suddenly disappeared. I scanned the enormous pool to see where she had gone. A group of girls sat on the other edge but none of them had her long red hair. A slippery pair of hands gripped my waist. I yelped. I turned and saw Lydia, soaked from head to toe, laughing.
"Why'd you do that?" I groaned.
"We're in a pool, silly. And you're always so high strung. You need to let loose a little. Have some mindless fun," she replied.
Her accurate assessment of me made me flinch. I hadn't even realized she noticed. Was I that awkward or was Lydia just good at reading people?
"Is that a challenge?" I said. It couldn't hurt to take her up on her offer.
"Why not?" she giggled. Then she swiped her hand across the water's surface, splashing me.
I let out the most dramatic gasp I could muster and splashed her back. The splash war continued until we both tired.
"So did you go to some kind of fancy private school?" I asked Lydia as we swam over to the center of the pool. On a small circular island stood a marble statue of a woman dressed in what looked like a sheet. She carried a jug of water on her shoulder, which was overturned and spilling into the pool. The two of us clambered onto the island and sat at the statue's feet, carefully avoiding the stream of water.
"I was homeschooled," Lydia said. "My parents don't really trust any modern educational institutions."
I wanted to ask why but bit my tongue. It probably wasn't my business.
"Was it lonely?" I asked instead. I imagined it must have been, not having any other kids around.
Lydia shook her head. "Not really. I have two younger brothers. Plus my family is really active in the community, so it's not like I was isolated the whole time."
"You said your family served one of the Dukes. How'd that come about?" I asked.
Lydia sighed and looked down at the water. "My family used to be private military contractors before the war. In the end we picked the winning side, allied with Duke Hale, and here we are."
Her tone had an air of resignation, as if the arrangement was not something her family was happy with. More questions buzzed through my head but before I could give voice to any of them Lydia turned to me.
"So what do your parents do?" she asked in that same faux cheerful tone she had when she changed the subject earlier.
"Nothing glamorous," I replied. "My mom's a grocery store clerk and my dad is an accountant."
Lydia nodded and I could tell her eyes were already gazing over from boredom. I couldn't really fault her. My life was boring. Or it had been, until this competition happened.
"Any cute boys back home?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
It must have shown on my face because her smile receded. She let out a quiet "Oh."
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked after a pause.
I frowned. Lydia and I had just met. I couldn't burden her with my drama. But something about her made me seem like she wouldn't mind. And I've never actually talked about Rowan to anyone. Maybe it would be good to get him off my chest.
"I... had a boyfriend. We broke up because of the competition," I began. Lydia's eyes widened, but she remained silent.
"It was the stupidest thing," I laughed bitterly. "Turns out he's this crazy anti vampire vigilante. He wanted me to assassinate the king. And when I said no he... ended it."
"That's awful," Lydia said quietly.
"Yeah," I sighed. "He said I was selfish. That I wasn't thinking about humanity's future."
"He sounds like quite a character," Lydia said hollowly. There was something dark hidden in her eyes.
"The worst part is I gave two years of my life to him. I thought I knew him! And after all that he just tossed me aside like I was nothing," I said.
Lydia reached up to pat my now dry shoulder. "I know this is totally cliche, but you're strong and you'll get through this."
I couldn't help but smile. "That is really cliche. But thanks."
"Anytime," she grinned.
***
Dinner was close to midnight. We had slowly been shifting over to a nocturnal schedule for the king's convenience. For a morning person like myself, the change hadn't exactly been welcome.
Rosethorne Hall's dining room consisted of two long mahogany tables on opposite sides of the room, each lined with a dozen matching chairs. A third table sat on a raised dais, facing the room's entrance. A fancy velvet chair stood in the middle. The king's seat, no doubt. I had to wonder why it was there though. After all, vampires didn't need to eat.
I sat on the left next to Lydia and her new roommate, a girl named Shelby Knight. My hair was still damp and smelled faintly of chlorine, despite an extensive shower. I decided to forgo drying it and simply wore it slicked back. Lydia seemed to have the same idea, though she looked like a glamorous model whereas I looked like a golden retriever fresh out of the bath.
Our food had not yet been served and the dining hall was filled with impatient chatter and tapping of silverware. Just as the chorus of voices reached a crescendo, the doors burst open and the king strode in, flanked by Melanie and servants bearing loaded carts of food.
I recoiled in my seat, suddenly hyper aware of my wet dog appearance. Why hadn't I bothered to bring a hair dryer? Why hadn't I thought to borrow Skyler's? The memory of it sitting on the bathroom shelf taunted me. I glanced over at Lydia, who looked curious, but unfazed.
The king stood on the dais. His blue-green eyes swept the room, momentarily landing on me. I shrank back, covering my face.
"Welcome to my palace," he said nonchalantly. "I look forward to getting to know all twenty five of you more closely." His eyes darted in my direction as he said that and I desperately wanted to leave.
"Tonight my staff have prepared a wonderful meal for you all. And I hope you don't mind if Melanie and I join you for dinner," he said. Some of the girls clapped and giggled. I wanted to sink into the ground.
The king made his way around the table and sat down in the velvet chair. Melanie joined him, sitting to his right. The servants began placing trays of food on the tables. One placed a plate in front of Melanie, who nodded a thank you. Another poured the king a glass of wine from an ancient, dusty bottle. He thanked the man and took a sip, then leaned over to whisper something to Melanie. I closed my eyes and prayed that by some miracle, dinner would be cancelled.
The meal consisted of grilled cod, oyster chowder, and a variety of salads. Normally the sight and smell of seafood made me feel right at home, but the king's presence made that impossible. I ate tentatively, trying my best to ignore the discomfort he instilled in me. Still, I couldn't help glancing in his direction now and then.
I watched as he finished his wine and the servant that hovered at his side poured him another glass. I briefly wondered how well vampires were able to hold their liquor. Did they feel its effects at all?
Once everyone was done eating, the king stood, clearing his throat. All conversations ground to a halt.
"Thank you for your attention," he smiled. "I hope you enjoyed your meal."
Murmurs of affirmation filled the room. Melanie remained seated, gazing up at him. Her plate was half eaten.
"As you have no doubt noticed, I have a tremendous appreciation for the arts," he began.
I had noticed. The classical paintings lining the walls, the enormous garden, the mosaic pool, and the extensive library, it was clear he liked to surround himself with beautiful things. That includes the twenty five girls sitting in this room, I realized bitterly.
"Your next challenge is to show off your incredible artistic talents. You will have one week to create something for me, whether it's a painting or a song," he said. "At the end of the deadline, you'll present it to me, privately, in my auditorium."
His eyes swept the room, taking in the reactions. Some of the girls began to raise their hands, no doubt burning with questions. Melanie stood, a resigned look on her normally stoic face. He gave her a one-sided smile and turned back to face the room.
"Melanie will be taking all of your questions," he said. Melanie's lips tightened in response. "Good night, ladies."
He bowed his head and left the room. As soon as the doors slammed behind him, half a dozen more hands shot up in the air. Melanie sighed and gestured to a girl closest to her.
As the girl voiced her question, I slumped back in my seat, unsure of how to feel. On one hand, this challenge was a guaranteed failure. I had no artistic talents to speak of. I couldn't draw or sing or play an instrument. I've dabbled in creative writing and poetry before, but not enough to be any good at it.
On the other hand, I didn't want to just give up and do nothing. It was impossible to rationalize, but something in me didn't want to disappoint the king by not trying. Another part of me was thrilled at the thought of impressing him. I watched the other girls, their faces already alight with ideas as Melanie answered their questions.
I halfheartedly caught snippets of the conversation. Supplies will be provided to anyone who needed them. Working in groups was acceptable, though everyone would be judged individually. The week long deadline was set in stone, no exceptions.
"What are you thinking of doing?" Shelby asked Lydia, jarring me out of my trance.
"I brought my violin so I'll just play that," she replied. "What about you?"
"I can sing," Shelby said. Her eyes lit up suddenly and she grabbed Lydia's arm. "Hey, why don't we team up? You can provide music for my vocals!"
Lydia shrugged. "Sure, why not? Maybe Avery could join us."
I jumped, startled by my sudden inclusion in the conversation. Lydia was looking at me expectantly. I sighed and shook my head.
"I can't sing. Or play instruments," I said. I couldn't help but notice the relief on Shelby's face when I said that. It appeared she didn't want me hogging the spotlight, and I couldn't blame her.
"Are you sure?" Lydia pressed.
"Positive," I replied. "I have no talent whatsoever. I don't even know what I'm going to do."
Lydia looked pensive. "Well, what do you like to do for fun? Maybe you can use that somehow."
"Well, I like to read but that doesn't necessarily translate into writing," I said.
"Give it a try! Maybe you're better than you think," Lydia said.
"Yeah, I guess," I trailed off. Maybe Lydia was right. Granted, my experience with writing amounted to a creative writing class I took last year, but it was better than nothing.
Ideas danced through my head. Should I do a poem or a short story? The latter. I wasn't equipped to handle the intricacies of language that poems had. But could I really write something worthwhile in one week, not to mention present it to the most powerful man in the nation?
A realization came over me and I groaned. This was just like creative writing class! This challenge was basically a homework assignment. Only the one grading it would not be my middle aged English professor, but the king of vampires himself. Just when I thought the competition couldn't get any more humiliating.