CHAPTER TWO- OCTAVIAN

In a week, I would be expected to sit by my father's side and watch the Challenge with him. He says I will be expected to watch it all when I am king. It is my duty. Everyone has a duty, a job they must perform to keep the Empire running smoothly. Mine just happens to be leading the country one day.

But until then, I was free to be Tav, not Prince Octavian crown prince of the Empire, free to be someone other than who my title makes me.

"Tav," my best friend said from next to me, "What's on your mind?"

"The Challenge." I said, looking at him. His focus was on the gardener's daughter, Tilda. She was beautiful, I admit, but always covered in dirt and sweat. I smiled to myself and looked at a flower that had fallen onto the grass in front of us.

"Stop." I rolled my eyes,

"Finn, it's not that easy." Finn didn't speak much, preferring to keep his sentences short and often vague. He shrugged, finally tearing his eyes off Tilda and looking at me. Four years earlier, Finn himself participated in the Challenge. That year, I only watched when he was fighting, even still, I looked away when his opponent was killed. His hazel eyes were guarded, as usual. Most of what I knew about Finn I had guessed about.

"Tav, this happens every year. This year isn't special." Finn said, turning back to Tilda. After a moment, I watched him get up and stretch. He walked towards Tilda, stopping to give me a few more words of encouragement, "Just do what your father says, and everything will be fine."

That was the least helpful thing Finnian had ever said. I watched him walk up to Tilda, an unusual grin on his face. He was flirting. Probably hoping to woo her into a storage cupboard or an unused shed for some midday shenanigans. I sighed and stood up, not wanting to stay around for the show. I knew a guard would be following me as I left the gardens, unfortunately for me it was Henri. He was a whiney, snot nosed, stiff asshole who never let me do anything fun. I needed to get rid of him.

"Excuse me, Prince Octavian?" Henri said, his nasally voice making me cringe. I turned my head, not bothering to stop fully,

"What?" I said,

"Where are we going" he asked, struggling to keep up with me. Henri was short, skinny and honestly not very qualified to be a royal guard. He was one of the winners last year, so obviously he got a good Job in the army, and somehow he got assigned to guard us. The fucking Royals.

"Inside." I said, walking up the garden steps. We walked up the back staircase and went into the manor. I hated the manor, it was too big for our family, but of course we used it because of our status. My rooms were in the farthest east-facing corner of the manor, to keep anyone away. I walked up the grand staircase and made my way through the sparsely decorated halls. We didn't use this house much, so the most unused corridors and rooms stayed undecorated. We made it to my rooms and I ordered Henri to stay outside. My rooms, like all of my family's rooms, consisted of the main bedchamber, a bathroom, a closet and a study. I shrugged off my deep magenta jacket and threw it on my bed, making my way to my study. There were thirteen envelopes on my desk, each one holding the names of the Challengers for this year, and their personal information. My father had sent them to me with instructions to go through them and learn about them, specifically though, the ones from our Island, Abernly. I sighed and lowered myself into the chair, picking up the top-most envelope and sliding my thumb under the seal. I stopped and flipped the envelope over, reading the Island name written on it. Zyo.

"Fuck." I sighed, opening the envelope. An hour later, I was finally done. The Challengers for this year weren't anything special. Even their names were drab and lowly. In high society, parents named their sons after the male family members and their daughters after flowers and sweets. When you were poor you named your child anything. The challengers from Abernly were no different. Though most of their names meant something they were still low-class. However, they are the Challengers who will represent me and my father. Despite the fact we aren't supposed to have any bias, we always hope the Abernly challengers win. And so far, they have.

"Amre Lochs?" a voice said next to my ear, I looked and found myself staring at Finn's side profile. I looked at the file he had in his hand,

"Yeah, fifteen, born in the town of Orinia." I said, tapping my desk with my fingers, "one brother, Aryn Lochs. Her parents are Violet and Seth."

"What does she look like?" Finn said flipping the page over and looking at the enclosed photograph of the Chosen.

"Short brown hair, brown eyes, tan skin, looks in between."

"Good. Tate Holmes?" he was quizzing me. Making sure I was prepared for when my father asked me about them.

"Fifteen, born in Capital City. One sister, Elisabet Trynt, married Robert Trynt. His parents are Benjamin and Lillianne Holmes." I said, closing my eyes and envisioning Tate, "Long blond hair, green eyes, pale, sharp features."

"Okay, Lian Quincy?"

"Fifteen, born in the town of Safrina. Three sisters, Elysha Quincy, Veronica Jorind and Ziana Quincy. One brother, Rupert Quincy. His parents are Gregory and Thelma Quincy." I looked over at Finn, watching him nod along with my words. "Dark skin, curly black hair, hazel eyes."

"Russell, his brother's name is Russell. Vivia Flynn?" he said, his eyes zeroing in on the girl. I rolled my eyes,

"Fifteen, born in Capital City. Two sisters, Avivi Flynn and Polla Flynn. Four brothers, Alin Flynn, Lane Flynn, Vincent Flynn, and Reid Flynn. Parents are… uhh…..uhm… Forest? And Amelia?"

"Close. Foster and Emiline"

"Shit." I mumbled, leaning back in my office chair, "red hair, green eyes, pale, freckles."

"Yeah, but she's really pretty." Finn said, mesmerized by her picture. I looked over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of curly red hair coiling about her freckle covered face. She wore a lace blouse, the white collar slightly yellowed by time. Her hair had a bright green hair ribbon tied around her crown, trying desperately to tame her wild mass of curls. Her eyes were almost as bright as the ribbon but steeled and framed with thick lashes, her lips were turned slightly into a frown, as if the people behind the camera had made a bad joke. She was pretty.

"Yeah, she is." I said, taking the final file from the table,

"She has a twin," Finn said, reading Vivia's file. "Avivi."

"Yeah." I said, handing the last file to Finn and waiting for him to quiz me.

"Alica Heath." he said, Alica's file opened in one hand and Vivia's still open, her photograph staring up at us.

"Fifteen, born in the town of W'lyon. An only child. Her father is Tobias Heath, her mother is deceased." I said, squeezing my eyes shut, "round face, brown eyes, long black hair with bangs."

"Yeah, good." He stood up and walked out of the study, finding a place on my bed, next to my forgotten jacket. I sat in an armchair facing him, sixty-five names swirling through my head. Finn had taken Vivia's photo from her file and was staring at it.

"I don't get it. Why is she so fascinating to you?" I asked, getting up to grab a book from a nearby shelf. For a moment Finn was silent, leading me to expect a shallow answer. But instead he sat up, thrusting the photo towards me and pointing to the barely visible dolls in the background.

"C'risar." he said, speaking the simple Fiferian word. I must have looked as confused as I was, because he sighed, "Dolls. It's a Fiferly tradition for a mother and grandmother to give the children a doll from their childhood, in the case they die or the children are taken away. This girl has C'risar."

"And?" I asked, still confused. Finn looked at the photo,

"She has four." he wasn't making sense. "She's had a sad life."

"You can get all that from a handful of old dolls?" I scoffed, sitting down and opening my book. Finn stayed silent, letting the moments pass us as we settled. Every once in a while I'd look up and see him still staring at the photograph.

I didn't understand him. It's not that the girl wasn't attractive, she was, but she was also going to most likely die within the next two weeks.

"You wouldn't understand." he said, laying back down. "I have a C'risar. From my mother. She's dead. One is sad enough, but four? That's depressing."

"Right." I had forgotten that Finn was Fiferlian. He had spent so long in the capital he had lost his accent and most of his language. Good riddance though, the Fiferlian language was barbaric, completely uncivilized.

"Well, I'm gonna go back to the barracks." Finn said getting off my bed and walking out. I stayed silent and watched him leave, taking Vivia's photograph with him.

This wouldn't be good.