Page 13 of A Game of Love and Betrayal

“Good. Tomorrow, the twelve of you will be split into three groups of four. You’ll participate in a series of interviews with select press members.” She smiled. “It’ll help you ease into things before the Opening Ceremony the day after.”

Excited whispers flowed through the room as the women speculated about what they might encounter during the Opening Ceremony. It changed every time, but one thing remained the same—the men and women would not meet.

Brynleigh didn’t engage in the chatter. She sipped her wine, her mind already jumping to when she would finally meet the captain.

If the Matron noticed Brynleigh’s silence, she didn’t say anything. “It would be wise to rest while you still can.”

The whispers ceased.

“The gods only know you’ll need it in the days ahead.” Lilith raised her glass and waited for the women to follow suit. “Congratulations on being selected, and may the gods bless your Choice.”

Soon after that, the Matron departed. Brynleigh maintained her position against the wall. Like a hunter eyeing her prize, she assessed each of the women.

After all, they were her competition for Ryker’s hand in marriage. She would never forget her reason for being here.

The next day, the interviews went without a hitch. At least, they did for Brynleigh. Others didn’t fare so well.

After breakfast, the women were given directions and split into groups. They would each meet with six reporters in interview rooms that were miniature versions of the Crimson Lounge, right down to the red goblets and ruby couches. The first member of the press had been waiting for them upon arrival.

Once the questions began, they went on for hours.

Brynleigh was well-prepared for every single question that came her way. Her answers rolled off her tongue smoothly, sounding practiced but not overly rehearsed. Most of the inquiries directed at her were related to her Maker. Jelisette de la Point was a well-known vampire in the Republic of Balance, and the press was naturally curious about her newest progeny.

Some of the other members of Brynleigh’s quad didn’t fare so well. Hallie, one of the elves, stumbled over many of her responses. Like Brynleigh, she was not related to any of the Representatives and was instead Selected from the general population to participate in the Choosing. This was a way to keep the main populace happy while ensuring bloodlines within the Representatives remained fresh.

Hallie was a pale, white-haired Fortune Elf with emerald eyes that sparkled as she spoke. She was kind and had greeted Brynleigh as soon as they’d sat down. She was notably nicer than the other women, and there was a softness about her that Brynleigh hadn’t seen in a long time.

The reporters were vultures. They picked on Hallie relentlessly when they realized she wasn’t as prepared as the others. When the last reporter, a witch from the Eastern Region, closed the door behind her, Hallie was wiping away tears from her green eyes. Her nearly translucent white wings fluttered behind her, betraying her nerves. They’d been doing that since the first reporter started asking them questions hours ago.

“I don’t understand why they kept pushing me,” Hallie whispered, twisting a tissue through her fingers. “Why wouldn’t they leave me alone?”

Brynleigh handed the Fortune Elf a fresh tissue. “Because they’re predators.” Just like her. “They saw your nerves and fed on them.”

Watching the reporters tear into Hallie had been terrible. This only affirmed Brynleigh’s belief that the Choosing, like everything else in the Republic, was unfairly skewed towards the Representatives.

Esme sighed from where she sat on Hallie’s other side. “You should ignore them.” She brushed a lock of white hair from the Fortune Elf’s cheek. “They’re curious about us. The Choosing only happens once every ten years, and people want to know about the participants.”

“It’s easier for you.” Hallie blew her nose. “How long have you known you’d be participating?”

“Since I was old enough to understand what the Choosing was,” Esme admitted. “It’s my birthright.”

Like Brynleigh, Esme’s answers had been practiced and perfect.

The fourth member of their quad was Trinity, the werewolf. She was soft-spoken. Her great-uncle was the new Alpha of the Northern Werewolves. An extremely rude reporter had dared ask about Trinity’s older sister Malika, who’d died last year. Malika had initially been the one destined for the Choosing.

Trinity had barely made it through her answers before bursting into tears. She, too, clung to a tissue.

“Maybe tomorrow will be better,” Trinity said hopefully.

Hallie sniffled. “Maybe.”

Probably not. Beneath the facade of caring about equality, the Representatives were cold, hard people who only looked out for themselves. That’s what made them so dangerous and why infiltrating their ranks was so difficult. They were powerful, wealthy, and commanded the entire world.

If Hallie and Trinity were lucky, they would find strength within themselves before the others tore them to shreds.

If not, Brynleigh would add their names to the growing list of people she was avenging.

CHAPTER 4

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