My maid glances at the dust all over my pajamas, and sighs. She pulls out a silvery dress that is fitted until the waist, then flares out in a knee-length skirt. Not bad. I think, as she pulls my hair up in a tight knot, letting only a few strands of honey-blonde hair circle my face. 

“You look nice,” Cai says, as I run up to the rest of the champions, late as  usual. He wears a yellow button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, and some black dress pants. 

Julia, wearing a very short red dress, glares at me, her arms folded. What did I do to deserve this? I wonder, as they let us into the room where the press interviews are going to be held. The room is filled to the brim with reporters and their cameramen, all recording. 

Cai is brought up onto the stage first, and he sits in the chair provided, the center of attention. How am I going to survive up there? I think, glad that I’m last in line. 

“Caden, how are you liking the palace so far?” A female reporter yells, and the room goes silent. Someone hands Cai a microphone. 

“It’s beautiful, and whichever one of us ends up living here will be a lucky person,” He says, with a charming smile. Oh, he’s good at this. 

“Do you think that that person might be you?” Someone else yells out. 

“I think everyone has an equal chance of winning,” He says. Eh, sure. Whatever you say. Someone else pipes up. 

“Are you in a relationship with any of the other champions yet?” They scream, and I swear, eight people squeal. They’re going to break the windows. Cai ducks his head, flushing. 

“I wish,” He says, quietly, and the cameras turn to look at where Hadley, Julia, Angel, and I are sitting. Uh, no, I don’t like those.

“Which one do you have your eyes on, Caden?” They ask. 

“It wouldn’t matter anyway. She doesn’t like me,” He says, and everyone awws sadly. The cameras turn away from us, and back to Caden. 

“What girl in her right mind would refuse you?” They ask. Caden shrugs, still looking down. I roll my eyes.

“I’ll date you, Caden!” Someone screams from the back, and afterwards gets shushed. 

“Well, hopefully she’ll come around,” The interviewer says, and Caden nods quietly.

“What would be your first act, if you were made governor of Therncolaos?” Someone asks. Caden smiles, back to the questions he’s prepared for. 

“I would help the lower classes get proper education,” He says. “Especially on Metal Island.” At the mention of Metal, a few reporters turn to look at me. Wait. Wait. I keep my eyes on Hadley and Angel, who are in avid conversation under their breaths. I nod at whatever Hadley just said. The reporters turn back to Caden, giving up. 

“Where would you get the funds for this endeavor?” Someone else asks, raising their hand. 

“Probably from all the high-borns who have been hoarding their fortunes and not paying taxes, so they can put gold flakes in their food,” He says, and the room gasps. I smile to myself, remembering the gold flakes in my lemonade. “Irons and all the other low-borns deserve the same chance at a good life as the others.” Astonished, one reporter raises his hand. 

“I thought the working class were well provided for. We all think that,” He says, gesturing to the other reporters. 

“You’re reporters? Your job is to gather information?” Cai asks. The reporters nod, not used to seeing Cai serious. “Then go look anywhere. Interview any of the low-born. They’ll confirm that you have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Is it true that Lady Ferrum used to be an Iron?” They ask. Cai nods, and I flinch, swallowing. 

“Yes. So if you have questions about her life, I suggest you ask her and not me.” He stands up, and walks down the stairs from the stage quickly, sighing. He smiles at me as he passes, and sits down in the empty chair next to me, staring at the ground. 

“Olive next!” Someone yells, as Angel starts to ascend the stairs. She smiles at me, and I slowly climb the stairs to the stage, almost tripping because of the tiny black heels on my feet. I sit in the chair, and pick up the microphone that sits there, still warm from Cai’s touch. 

“Olive, could you tell us about your life as an Iron? What were the conditions like?” Someone asks. Oh, we’re starting with the questions that will make me cry in front of a crowd, huh? I sit up straight in my chair, my hands shaking. 

“Well, I lived in a tiny little house with my parents and my little sister Casey,” I start, hoping my voice doesn’t break. “And whenever it rained, the house would flood, and it would ruin most of our stuff, so we’d have to buy new stuff.” I swallow. 

“What was your main source of income?” They ask. 

“I worked in a factory, scrubbing rust off of iron.” 

“Did your parents work?” 

“My mother stayed home, and my father was injured when I was younger, so he couldn’t work,” I mumble, pressing my sharp unchewed nails into my palm, drawing blood. 

“What age did you start work?” They ask. 

“Thirteen.” A gasp goes through the crowd, and Cai looks up at me. I avoid his gaze, looking down at my hands. 

“What were your working conditions like?”

“The Supervisor made us work long hours with minimal breaks.” I say quietly. “And mistakes, no matter how small, were rewarded with-” I stop talking and look down at my forearms, crisscrossed with strips of burned skin. 

“Olive, what are those marks on your arms?” They ask. I don’t answer, rubbing my arms. My eyes fill with tears. “Olive, did your family go hungry?” 

“That’s enough questions.” Cai says, running up the stage and standing next to me. “You don’t have to answer those, Olive.” I nod, and walk with him off the stage, handing the microphone to Angel, who stares at me, wide-eyed. As I sit back down in my seat, the reporters closest to me turn their cameras directly at my face, where tears are streaming in shiny, salty rivers. 

“Are you refusing to talk to protect someone?” They whisper, holding their microphones out to me. I glare at them and turn back to watch the stage. 

“Lady Bellerose, how are you finding the palace?” They ask. Of course I’m the only one who gets hard questions. 

“I’m so sorry for putting you in that situation,” Cai whispers to me, once the reporters give up trying to get me to talk. “Was that all… true?” He asks, under his breath. I nod, my lip quivering. He looks down at my forearms, at their white marks, and takes my hand, rubbing it gently. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you ever again.” 

“Well, that’s a fragile promise,” I mutter, looking down at our hands. 

“It’s a sincere one,” He vows, looking into my eyes. I flush, and glance towards the press, inclining my head in their direction. 

“If you keep looking at me like that, the gossip collectors are going to suspect something,” I whisper. Cai nods, and lets go of my hands, turning back to the interview. 

“What would be your first act as governor?” They ask Angel. 

“I would set up a system of trades that go between the Divisions, so we don’t have to ship every imported good here to the capital, and instead get things spread around a lot faster.” Ha. I bet Metal will be left out of it. The reporters nod approvingly. 

“Thank you, Angel.” They say, and she stands up, waves, and hands the microphone to Julia, who ascends the stage with something like fear in her eyes. 

I’ve never seen her look vulnerable before. She sits down in the chair, and stares straight ahead, her fists clenched. 

Within minutes, Julia is called rude for not smiling, and people have decided that she would be a terrible governor. 

Julia stands up, throwing the microphone down, and runs from the room. I stand up, and follow Julia, ignoring the yelling press. 

She runs into a library on the third floor, after making me run up two flights of stairs. Panting, I slowly make my way into the room. 

“Go away!” She screams, her voice thick with… tears? Julia Montgomery is crying? 

“It’s just me.” I say, walking around a bookshelf to look at her. She pulls her knees up to her chest, and stares at me.

“Oh, good, it’s the whiny little girl with the tragic backstory, here to save me.” She says, in her most sarcastic voice possible. “Consider me saved.” 

“I’m sorry about them.” I say, going to sit next to her in the dark. 

“I really don’t care.” She says, wiping her tears away. “Why should I? I have it easier than you.” 

“You have the right to feel hurt, you know.” I say. “It’s okay.” 

“Stop pretending to be that perfect nice person like Angel.” She mutters, standing up, and walking to the window. She looks out, her eyes filled with tears. 

“I’m not trying to be Angel.” I say, walking up next to her. “She didn’t even run after you when you left.” 

“That’s because she knows when to shut up.” Julia says. I sigh. 

“Why are you always picking on me?” I ask, folding my arms. She laughs humorlessly. 

“You’re the Metal in the group. It’s tradition.” She says. 

“Do you have to follow traditions? I know you, of all people, hate strict rules.” She sighs and sits on the windowsill, staring out at the sunshine. After a couple seconds, she turns to me. 

“It’s Angel. She told me to scare you, to take away your confidence.” She admits, sighing. 

“Angel?” I ask, my jaw dropping open. Julia scoffs. 

“If you ask me, she’s not the kind of angel that’s from heaven.” She says, pointing directly downwards. 

“Why would she want me to-” 

“She’s power-hungry, of course.” Julia says. “Said she would ruin my prospects if she saw me being nice to you.” She blows a strand of red hair out of her round face. “Told me to tell you the ghost story.” I nod, sitting next to her on the sill. 

“So, I assume you’re going to be mean to me still, to keep your prospects? If so, that’s fine. Now that I know it’s not actual hatred.” I ask. Julia smiles. It’s a real smile. 

“I couldn’t care less about becoming governor. My mayor put me up to that. And with what those tabloids are writing about me right now, it’s not going to happen anyway. All I want is to see Devil Bellerose lose this thing.” I smile, and hold my hand out for her to shake. 

“Friends?” Julia pulls me into a hug instead of shaking my hand. 

“Friends.”