I grow silent. Phew, one question down, three to go. . . .
Did I answer well?
The stadium reaction is a combination of mediocre applause and quite a few boos and hoots.
Tiago ignores it and quickly introduces the next question. “Blue, may we have your question, please!”
Once again a woman speaks, this one closer to the front of the stadium—her sphere is glowing blue near the premium section directly facing the stage. And her voice is far more harsh, modulating to high pitch with angry emotion.
“You are an unknown girl from Earth. How dare you presume to seduce and take from us the Imperial Crown Prince Aeson Kassiopei, and then to break his heart by entering the Games? Shame to you! You should give up this madness for his sake! If you die, what would Prince Aeson do?”
The moment she is done shrieking her question-cloaked reprimand at me, the blue light in her hands goes out.
The audience around her starts to clap, and loud angry yells of agreement come from all directions.
You are right, I think. Shame on me indeed, for putting Aeson through this hell. Oh, if only you knew the truth . . . if only you knew why I’m doing this, how I’m being forced. . . . But you’ll never know. . . .
“Hey, hey, settle down, my lovely Grail Games worshippers, or you’ll make Tiago very sad!” Tiago exclaims, his own voice echoing throughout the chamber, and giving me a moment to compose my answer to this devastating question. “You especially don’t want Tiago’s belly to be sad, because it’s going to get indigestion later tonight, and then—noooo!” Tiago makes frantic gestures of something exploding, and points to his oversized belly.
“No!” the audience cries, distracted by this, and there are waves of laughter.
By then I have my answer. I take a deep breath and begin to speak. “You ask why an unknown Earth refugee would presume to love a Prince of Kassiopei. Why does anyone fall in love? I don’t know. I love Aeson because he is who he is, and I am who I am. I just do, and so does he. I didn’t ‘take him away’ from you, sorry you feel this way. Instead, I hope to give myself wholeheartedly to all of you when I become your Imperatris. I’m participating in the Games because I made that decision and I intend to keep my word. And as for breaking his heart—never. I wouldn’t allow it to happen. I would break my own heart first, and it would kill me, so no, since I do not plan to die. . . .”
I end with strange, forceful emphasis. I want to say so much more and I want to cry, badly, but I don’t.
The audience’s response is a mixture of clapping and boos. Except this time there are more angry outbursts than positive support.
“Now, now, be nice! All right, Green, your question next! Let’s have some better questions for the Imperial Lady!” Tiago says, before things get any uglier.
A man’s voice sounds from the back of the stadium, off to the right, speaking in Atlanteo, and I can just see the green ball in the distance. Thank goodness, the speaker’s tone is not aggressive, but there’s a mocking edge to it.
“As our future Imperatris, what do you think you can do for us?”
Okay, a neutral question, sort of . . . I think with relief.
“Thank you for asking!” I say immediately, replying in slightly awkward Atlanteo. “As an Earthie, I want to do everything I can to help the people of Atlantida and Earth come together—to work together to improve all our lives. For example, if there’s anything I can do to help you better understand those of us who’ve just arrived from Earth, such as our customs and traditions, our likes, our hopes and dreams, I’m happy to help. Also—those of us from Earth have a different perspective on things. It’s not necessarily better or worse than yours, just a fresh way of looking at the world—since we’ve obviously been looking at a different world for thousands of years. It’s new—for all of us. With all this wealth of information, we can learn so much from each other!”
I shut up, because, yes, another cliché, bland answer, ugh. . . . The uncomfortable smile on my face has become a painful grimace at this point.
I cannot help you at all, I think bitterly. Only keep going, in the face of what’s coming, Atlantis. But you can’t know this, none of you, not now.
And so I keep the pasted-on smile, look at them, as the waves of titters, hoots, and weak claps fill the stadium.
“Finally, Yellow question let’s hear it!” Tiago says loudly.
The yellow ball is somewhere off to the side, halfway between the stage and the back. Another female voice sounds—this one young and friendly, and speaking in passable English.
“What love gifts did you and the Kassiopei Prince exchange?”
The audience screams in approval of the question. Even Tiago seems to be relieved, as he nods and claps, then glances at me with a smile.
However, I’m stumped. What exactly am I being asked?
“Love gifts?” I say, as I frantically try to remember if it’s something I’ve been taught by the expert trainers, or if this is some kind of Atlantean tradition that I should know from my Culture classes.
Oh my God!
I have no idea what this is.
“Come, my dear Imperial Lady Gwen, don’t be shy,” Tiago continues, nodding at me with encouragement. “Love gifts might be an intimate delight between Bride and Groom, but in your case it’s just too fascinating not to pry, so you must forgive us! Once more, we are dying to know! What did the Imperial Crown Prince give you—an heirloom necklace, a ring, a bracelet, some other meaningful trifle that you’re wearing now? And what did you give him in return?”
Okay, this is ridiculous. No one’s told me about this tradition, and as far as I can remember, Aeson never mentioned it. Whatever it is however, it’s apparently very important to a whole stadium of people.
“Well,” I say. “If you mean like a wedding ring, the way people do on Earth, we didn’t really exchange rings—if that’s what you’re talking about. But I’m sure that’s going to happen eventually. . . .” I smile and shrug. “But of course it’s really unnecessary, I don’t expect any kind of present, I already have so much, including an amazing new wardrobe, the gorgeous Bride gift necklace from the Imperatris—”
The audience starts to boo and make other noises of displeasure.
Oh, crap. . . . What’s wrong with me? I should’ve just made something up, told them Aeson gave me some kind of jewelry. . . . But what if my lie only made things worse? I have no idea!
One thing is certain—just like that, my already precarious interview is turning into a disaster.
Tiago notices my complete confusion and takes over, rescuing me once again. “Hey now, Grail Games worshippers, let’s not be pushy! The Imperial Lady obviously wants to keep the love gifts very, very private, and you know what? She has every right! Yes, we tried to pry it out of her, yes, we put on the pressure, yes, audience, we tried, but to no avail! The love gifts will remain a sweet secret for now, until our Imperial amrevei choose to reveal them!”
Tiago’s words soothe the audience, even while I’m still frozen with a cold fear, no longer even able to maintain a fake smile.
But Tiago bravely continues, as though nothing is the matter.
“This has been a truly stunning interview, My Imperial Lady, and the audience and I loved every moment of it. Before we conclude, just a few more questions—with your permission, of course?”
I nod, gathering myself together for the final push.
Tiago smiles. “Would you like to make a special announcement here today? Maybe about your choice of Category?”
“Ah . . . yes,” I say, as my erratic pulse slows down to a more low-key flutter. “Thank you Tiago. After much thought, I would like to formally announce my Category for the Games of the Atlantis Grail—an exclusive here on your show.”
The stadium wakes up, and claps are heard. Tiago raises his hands up to the sky, looks up rolling his eyes heavenward, then clutches them together in delight, sending everyone into waves of laughter.
“I was think
ing along the lines of Scientist or Inventor,” I say. “But then it occurred to me that I would likely not be a worthy match to your own local talent. So I humbly decided to register as a Vocalist.” I conclude, pursing my lips and letting my hands lie in my lap.
“Ah! What a brilliant decision!” Tiago exclaims. “A Vocalist! The Imperial Lady will be a Vocalist!
“Yup, I suppose it is,” I say with a smile. “So, yeah, I’ll be wearing a white uniform with the mouth logo.”
The show music theme plays on cue.
The audience screams. This time, it’s curiosity, approval, and basically mixed happy chaos.
But it doesn’t last. There are plenty of boos and rude noise left in the mix.
“What is your winning strategy?” Tiago asks, waving his arms enthusiastically.
This part we’ve rehearsed, so I reply easily. “My winning strategy is to keep competing until I win!”
Tiago laughs. The audience laughs—either with me or at me. I laugh also, because, what else can I do?
“Do you think you can win?”
“I know I can win,” I say. “For myself, for everyone I love, for Aeson, especially.”
The stadium reacts with applause.
“What do you think of your competition? Is there anything you would like to say to Deneb Gratu or Hedj Kukkait or Tiamat Irtiu, or any other of your fellow competitors?”
I take a big breath, put on my biggest smile, and then turn my face to the audience, pretending to speak out into the great expanse. “Hey, I’ll see you in the Game Zone!” I say in a loud energetic voice that’s intended to be equally playful and aggressive.
And the Grail Games Daily torture session is over.
Chapter 32
Aeson meets me at the exit as soon as I escape backstage, while the Grail Games Daily theme music plays and Tiago makes his closing statements to conclude the broadcast.
“You did fine! You did it, Gwen!” he exclaims, taking me in his arms.
“No, I was awful . . . but I survived,” I mutter, as I collapse in Aeson’s embrace, and he holds me tight. I briefly see his intense eyes and expression of concern, before I hide my face in his chest.
Yes, I’m shaking. . . .
I look up at him. “I said so many stupid, useless things! They hate me, and they think I’m ridiculous! Did you hear those questions they asked?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s over,” Aeson says, soothing me with his hands. “You replied well, under very difficult circumstances.”
I make a snort of disdain directed at myself. “I couldn’t even answer the easy ones such as the one about the love gifts—”
The moment I mention it, Aeson tenses up and pulls away, looking at me with a pained expression, while still holding me at arm’s length. “Gwen . . . I’m so sorry about that! I—I forgot, completely. With all that was happening, I got so caught up in everything else, I didn’t even think. . . . I’m a fool who didn’t give my Bride a love gift! How could I be this negligent?”
“Okay, what exactly is a love gift?” I say, looking into his lapis lazuli eyes. “Is it some kind of an engagement ring? When Tiago started mentioning jewelry, I tried to think if maybe you gave me something and I didn’t pay attention, or misunderstood—”
“No, no, you didn’t, it’s my fault entirely,” Aeson interrupts, frowning, as his embarrassment deepens. He blinks, looks down guiltily—I’ve never seen him so blatantly uncomfortable and full of guilt over something that’s, as far as I understand it, negligible.
“Whatever it is, just don’t worry about it,” I say, squeezing his arm to calm him, and forgetting my own distress.
But Aeson shakes his head grimly. “It’s unacceptable, stupid negligence on my part, and I will remedy the situation as soon as possible. . . . Yes, to answer your question, love gifts are normally exchanged soon after a bridal agreement is reached. They are meaningful keepsakes, not necessarily expensive but personally significant. Men and women agonize for weeks beforehand trying to decide what to give to their future promised ones.”
“Oh,” I say. “Okay, that sounds more interesting than just engagement rings.”
“It’s intended to be profound, but only works that way if you actually love the person you are marrying,” he says sadly. “For example, before I chose you, when I was still considering Lady Tirinea Fuorai or one of the other Court ladies, I tortured myself thinking what idiotic item to give my future Imperial Bride. It was so distasteful that I promptly put it out of my mind until the last minute. Finally, after putting it off for so long, and feeling guilty, I told myself, as soon as we landed on Atlantis I would go to my room and pick up the first thing off my desk and hand it to her with a vague explanation of its meaning.”
I snort. “I see. So does it mean I’m getting a security key card or a computer component as my love gift, since that’s pretty much all that’s on your desk?”
“Please, im amrevu,” he says, without a smile. “This is actually very embarrassing for me, and I’ll never forgive myself for not respecting you enough to have a proper love gift ready for you.”
We are still standing backstage, with media crew and show staff constantly moving past us, and surrounded by Imperial Guards who in contrast remain motionless. “Why don’t we head back,” Aeson tells me softly. “And we can continue talking about this on the way home.”
“All right,” I say with a smile, as we begin walking toward the rear exit of the building. “But I know exactly what to give you as a love gift.”
“Is that so?” he says, raising one brow, and his expression coming alive again.
I nod. “I don’t have much, as you know, only what’s in my two bags from Earth. In fact, my choice is so pitiful it’s limited to two items since I literally don’t have anything else except a bunch of old books. But there’s this little rose crystal Pegasus figurine that you could put in your pocket, an old childhood favorite of mine. . . . It’s a beautiful sparkly miniature, and I love miniatures. And being a Pegasus, I think it’s kind of appropriate. I want you to have it. . . . I’ll show you as soon as we get back—Wait!” I pause, becoming agitated again as I agonize over the limited personal items in my possession. “The other choice of course is a fairy locket that my parents gave me for my birthday. Hmmm. . . . Not sure if you would like it, since it’s kind of very girly, but you can have it if you want—in fact, you can have both of them—or either! I—I’m so sorry I don’t have anything else! Unless you want a book? You can have any of my books! They are classic paper editions!”
“I’ll be honored with whatever you give me,” he says, and his eyes fill with intensity as he looks at me lovingly while I continue to babble. “But, are you sure? If any of it is something too important to you, something so very unique and personal—”
“Of course I’m sure! This is supposed to be personal, so yes, that would be my love gift to you. Probably the little Pegasus—or you can take your pick!”
An indescribable look is in his eyes. “I will have a proper love gift for you soon, Gwen, I promise.”
“I fully expect it to be spectacular,” I say, laughing.
By the time we reach our hover cars, I’ve forgotten the stress of the interview, and both Aeson and I are caught up in a happy moment.
Maybe this brief respite is our truest love gift of all.
Back in Phoinios Heights, my friends and siblings are waiting for me, and so are most of Aeson’s astra daimon brethren. They’re all here for a viewing party—and also an informal gathering in my honor, with only tomorrow left before the opening of the Games. They have the media feeds on, and are watching the popular reactions to the interview.
“Oh no, don’t look,” Gracie says to me with a grimace, as soon as we walk in and I automatically turn to the hovering display split into multiple screens.
Apparently there’s at least three different networks showing me stumbling on various answers and variously making fun of me. . . . The worst is Tiago’s nemesis Buhaa
t Hippeis and his own rival show Winning the Grail—they’ve done an awful montage of the worst moments of my interview.
Buhaat himself, a thin wiry man with an enthusiastic resonant tenor, is laughing with none other than Deneb Gratu, star skyball player and most favored competitor, who is his guest tonight. They’ve just finished watching my interview montage, and Deneb, a big man with river-red clay skin and cold blue eyes, shows a faint icy smile in response to Buhaat’s question about what he thinks about me.
“She is an insignificant Contender,” he tells Buhaat in a deep, very quiet, very scary voice, as he lounges in an interview chair located on a steep outdoor balcony overhanging a Games venue, which is tonight’s location for the show—Winning the Grail is recorded in all kinds of places, with or without a studio audience to create varying degrees of intimacy. “She is the Kassiopei Prince’s choice, and her inclusion in the Games is nothing more than an Imperial gimmick.”
“Now that’s an interesting point.” Buhaat Hippeis nods his head wisely, giving his full attention to Deneb Gratu. “So you think that the Imperial Bride has been entered to prove some kind of political point? Maybe to discredit the validity of the Grail Games tradition? To undermine the integrity of the process—”
Deneb barely moves his head, planted on top of a very thick muscular neck. “Who knows,” he says, narrowing his eyes with disdain. “One thing we can expect is that the Bride will come equipped with a variety of techniques, the best that Imperial money and influence can buy. She’ll be shielded and protected, and she will likely have alliances lined up even before the first Stage begins.”
“Rather unfortunate, it would seem,” Buhaat says in a deceptively mild and oh-so-provocative tone. “The fact that funds and position can make such a difference in a situation where merit and excellence should be the only guiding factors for success.”
“Oh, it’s despicable, have no doubt about it,” Deneb sneers. And then he turns to the camera. “To all of you watching, I promise you this—even with all her fancy gadgets and tricks, the Bride will not last in the arena. She will be taken down before your eyes, and no one will be able to protect her, not even the divine Kassiopei and all their minions . . . I will be there to take what is mine, and she will be added as AG points to my score, within the first hour!”
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