Page 11 of Kingdom of Flames & Flowers
I shrugged.
“Of course not. Make yourself at home,” Leilani beamed as if the red-head were some long-lost sister of hers. “I’m Leilani, and this is Mari.” She pointed at me.
My esteem for Leilani rose slightly when she used the preferred version of my name. Almost no one did.
“Stone quarter, right?” I asked. Most of the girls were from there. I wondered if it was purposeful.
“I’m Azalea, actually from the art district,” she said. “They grabbed me earliest and mixed me in with the others,” she offered, neither offering a hand or touching her forehead, but giving us a deep bow of her head. It was a better greeting than the bread quarter’s, but it still left you vulnerable when you took your eyes off the person in front of you. I reconsidered my vow to hate everyone from the art district. She seemed kind like the bread girl.
Was my quarter the only one with any common sense?
“Is that it? For your name?” I clarified. She hadn’t specified a row she was born on. Surely she wasn’t the only Azalea in her quarter. I had been one of seven other Marigolds my birth year, for crying out loud. That’s why we had our second names; to tell us apart.
“As far as I’m aware.” Azalea shrugged, looking mystified I’d even asked. She shook her head. “Freesia’s called a meeting. She wants everyone to meet in the big room,” Azalea muttered, running her hands over the velvet blanket on her bed.
“Who’s Freesia?” I asked, wondering who that was, and why she thought she was in charge.
Leilani shot me a look. “The tall one you yelled at on the steps. White hair.”
Ah, yes. Her. I shot a longing look toward the bed. Soon enough I’d lay in it.
“Let’s go see what she wants, shall we?”
The other two girls followed me out to the open sitting area, where the other six had already assembled. I flopped down onto a bunch of pillows next to two similar-looking brown-haired girls from the stone district, who were holding tightly onto each other. They looked away when I turned to them. I ignored them to savor the feel of such soft fabrics against my skin. I could have easily fallen asleep against such luxury!
Freesia stood among the gaggle of girls, head high and her hands on her hips. Her white hair was identical to the queen’s. “I just wanted to make it clear to everyone here that I plan to win. If you want to survive this and come out on the other end, stay out of my way.”
She glared at each of us, but I didn’t give her a chance to get to me. I stood, reluctantly leaving the soft fabrics. “You’re not the queen. Though I think it’s a good idea to meet and get to know each other. Maybe share what we know about what’s going on.”
Freesia laughed. “You’re such a stupid little mud girl. You don’t know what’s going on?”
My face burned, and half the girls looked away. Leilani glanced at me, then raised her hand in the air. “Well, I’d like to know what’s going on. All I know is that they choose a crop of girls every five years to marry off to the nobles in the Seat. This seems to have … more to it.” Girls around her nodded. That was a mild way to put odd death trials.
Freesia flipped her white hair over her shoulders. “And why should I share what I know with you? Isn’t it obvious why we’re here?”
I grinned inwardly. Freesia couldn’t help herself; she was too smug in her own knowledge to hoard it. She’d dangle it before us to feign superiority while giving away prize pieces in the attempt.
“You don’t know any more than us,” I goaded, leaning back in my pillows once more.
Freesia whipped her head back around to me. The primas had braided her long white hair and then pulled at it, creating the illusion of large braids in a flower pattern.
Flowers. Always flowers.
“I certainly know more about it than any of you,” she insisted. “My father is the head mason and in charge of overseeing all the family mines. I have royal blood in me, you know.”
I tried not to barf as she outwardly preened, tilting her head here and there to ensure we saw her hair. If that were true, she’d be a noble living in the Seat and not another girl in the stone quarter.
Then her words played again in my head. She’d said herfather. I wasn’t sure if I was angry, jealous, or just mystified at knowing someone who’d actually had a father. I opened my mouth to ask, then shut it. I could discreetly ask Azalea and Leilani if they had fathers. I didn’t need to embarrass myself in front of Freesia, who was still talking.
“He knows things the others don’t,” she continued. “The choosing is usually for brides of the nobles who live here in the Seat,” she explained. “But this year is different. It’s special.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “They’re looking for a bride for the prince.”
Excited muttering greeted this pronouncement.
I rolled my eyes. “Are you forgetting how they’re actively trying to kill us off?” I pointed out. “Remember the cage? Remember the pools?” I eyed Freesia. “Where does that all fit in your vast amounts of knowledge? Why kill us if they need brides?”
Freesia crossed her arms on her chest, a different emotion flitting across her face for a split second before it settled back into smug superiority. “Maybe they don’t need as many wives this year. Or they only want the best and strongest.”
One of the brown-haired girls next to me started crying.
