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At first I think I’m in the middle of another arena like the one back home The space curves doard into an immense bowl, but instead of stone benches, tables and plush chairs crowd the spiral of terraces Plants and fountains trickle down the steps, dividing the terraces into boxes They join at the bottoed with stone statues Ahead ofwith red and black silk Four seats, each one made of cruel iron, look down on the floor

What in hell is this place?

My work goes by in a blur, following the lead of the other Reds I’m a kitchen server, meant to clean, aid the cooks, and currently, prepare the arena for the upco event Why the royals need an arena, I’m not sure Back hoainst Silver, but what could it mean here? This is a palace Blood will never stain these floors Yet the not-arena fillssensation returns, pulsing under my skin in waves By the time I finish and return to the servant entrance, Queenstrial is about to begin

The other servantsto an elevated platform surrounded by sheer curtains I scramble after them and bump into line, just as another set of doors opens, directly between the royal box and the servants’ entrance

It’s starting

My mind flashes back to Grand Garden, to the beautiful, cruel creatures calling themselves human All flashy and vain, with hard eyes and worse teh Houses, as Walsh calls theht even be worse

They enter as a crowd, in a flock of colors that splits around the Spiral Garden with cold grace The different families, or houses, are easy to spot; they all wear the sareen, black, yellow, a rainbow of shadestoward their family boxes I quickly lose count of them all Just how many houses are there? More andwith stiff arms This is a party for them, I realize Most probably have little hope to put forth a queen and this is just a vacation

But a few don’t look to be in the celebrating mood A silver-haired faht of the king’s box The patriarch of the house has a pointed beard and black eyes Farther down, a house of navy blue and white nize one of them Sao Unlike the others, he stares darkly at the floor, his attention elsewhere I make a note to ely, though, I don’t see any girls of age to erly awaiting their chance to win a crown

Occasionally, someone presses a squarethey require a servant Whoever’s closest to the door attends to the for our turn to serve Of course, the second I move next to the door, the wretched black-eyed patriarch slaps the button on his table

Thank heavens for h the crowd, dancing between roving bodies asfrom these people, I mean to serve theh or cry at this version of herself But she was a foolish girl, and now I pay the price

"Sir?" I say, facing the patriarch who had called for service Inis the first rule, and I have already broken it

But he doesn’t seelass, a bored look on his face "They’re toying with us, Ptole h to be called Ptolemus

"A de his own glass He holds it out to me and I take it without hesitation "They make us wait because they can"

They are the royals who have yet to make an appearance But to hear these Silvers discuss the We Reds insult the king and the nobles if we can get aith it, but I think that’s our prerogative These people have never suffered a day in their life What problems could they possibly have with each other?

I want to stay and listen, but even I know that’s against the rules I turn around, cliht of steps out of their box There’s a sink hidden behind soo all the way back around the not-arena to refill their drinks That’s when a h the space,of the First Friday Feats It chirps a few ti what h Houses rise to their feet, begrudgingly or not I notice Ptolee point, hidden behind the flowers, I’htly behind it Mare Barrow, a few yards fro What would my family think, or Kilorn for that ly become his servant It ht Even from behind, he’s much fatter than he looks on the coins and broadcasts, but also taller His uniforh I doubt he’s ever spent a single day in the trenches Reds die in Badges and s he’s never done He even wears a gilded sword despite the uards around hiold and black iron, each point a burst of curling flaainst his inky black hair flecked with gray How fitting, for the king is a burner, as was his father, and his father before him, and so on Destructive, powerful controllers of heat and fire Once, our kings used to burn dissenters with nothing ht not burn Reds anymore, but he still kills us ar and ruin His na in the schoolrooetof Norta, Flame of the North A mouthful if there ever was one I would spit on his na at the crowd Whereas the king’s clothes are dark and severely cut, her navy and white garb is airy and light She bows only to Sa the sa by the family resemblance Sa her look like a wild, predatory cat

As intiuards that follow theh I’m a Red born in mud, I knohat they are Everyone knohat a Sentinel looks like, because no one wants toin every broadcast, at every speech or decree As always, their unifore, and their eyes glitter behind fearsolea silver bayonet that could cut bone Their skills are eventhan their appearances--elite warriors from different Silver houses, trained fro and his fah to h Houses aren’t afraid at all

So starts "Death to the Scarlet Guard!" soh me as I remember the events of yesterday, now so far away How quickly this crowd could turn