Electus (Regnum Series Book 1) (5 page)

Tia glares at Delilah, who walks over to the bar, next to Mr. Leporem. Anger builds up in her stomach. Next thing Tia knows, she is up and walking over as well.

“And what can I get you, miss?” the bartender, named Al, asks Tia.

Seeing as her father and uncle rarely bought liquor, Tia is clueless on what to drink. “What is the strongest thing you have?”

Mr. Leporem and Delilah turn to Tia, now.

“Whisky, miss. But I advise...”

“I’ll take a shot of it, please,” Tia cuts him off, her body full of adrenaline. Al slowly pulls out a bottle and pours it into a shot glass.

“Thank you,” Tia replies, with a smile and swallows the shot as quick as she can, then slams the glass onto the bar. “Another, please.”

Mr. Leporem and the girl continue to stare at Tia as she drains the glass a second time. “Another,” Tia demands. The bartender is hesitant.

“It’s alright, Al.” Mr. Leporem nods. “She believes she can handle it. I say give it to her.” With the word her, his blue eyes pierce right through Tia.

Al pours the third shot, Tia grins wide at Delilah, who is now staring daggers at her. She swallows the third shot and places the glass down. “Who’s going to work with the criminals now, bitch?”

Before Delilah can answer, Tia stumbles away. She is slightly wobbly, compared to before, leaving Al and the girl speechless. Mr. Leporem just smirks and sips his scotch.

Tia sits back down at the table, her whole body shaking. Most of the people in the dining room are up and about, chatting amongst themselves. Mina is flirting with a boy from Novo over at her table. She knows that if she doesn’t at least attempt to socialize, her chances of any leaders bidding on her, are slim.

A band starts to play music and Tia watches Quade escort Kira to the dance floor. Several couples amble to the floor. Tia remains seated, next to Lucas, who is busy adjusting his tie.

"May I have this dance," Tia hears a deep voice from her right. It's Mr. Leporem, extending his hand.

Without a word, Tia accepts and follows him to the dance floor. They begin to waltz. Dancing was never Tia's strong suit, and she carefully watches her feet.

"So, tell me, Miss Trumble," Mr. Leporem starts, "what is a beautiful, young, Regnumian woman, like yourself, doing, drinking such harsh liquor?"

"What is a young, handsome human, like yourself, doing, running a capitol?”

"I asked you first, Miss Trumble."

"The name is Tia," she notes, "and I like to try new things."

"Me too," he responds, with a smile, "Tia."

Forgetting her footing, Tia steps on Mr. Leporem’s shoe. "I'm so sorry.” She looks down at his feet.

“No worse for wear.” Mr. Leporem studies her, as he continues to lead her across the dance floor. They follow along to the music for several minutes. Tia feels extremely tense in this man’s presence. His eyes follow her face, down to her neck.

“What a beautiful necklace,” Mr. Leporem remarks, staring at Tia’s pendant. “What does the symbol mean?”

“I’m not sure, it was my mother’s. I never met her.”

“Interesting,” he carries a surprised look.

“Is there something wrong with it?” she inquires, not sure why he is confused. He peers back up at her face.

“Not at all,” he smiles again. His grin is charming, and Tia finds herself staring longer than she would like to at his straight, white teeth.

“I’ve never seen anyone offer their meal to a server before. That was rather good-natured of you, Miss Trumble,” Mr. Leporem notes, studying her face.

“I didn’t think it was such a big deal,” she shrugs and yawns.

“Am I boring you, Miss Trumble?”

“No, sir.”

“Well, I will not keep you much longer.” Mr. Leporem kisses her hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Tia.”

“Likewise,” Tia, unsure of the customs from his capitol, leans over and kisses his hand.

He laughs, in a deep chuckle. “I think I will enjoy watching you throughout this week, my dear. Good night.” He walks away, staring at his hand, where Tia left a print from her lipstick.

Surrendering to her exhaustion, Tia decides to head up to her room. It feels like an eternity before she reaches her floor. Especially when she is weighed down by four courses and three shots.

By the time she arrives at her door, her key fights her, and she sinks down in defeat. A door next to her opens, and she catches Kira exiting, her hair a mess. Then, Quade appears, shirtless, and kisses Kira goodnight. It isn’t until Kira turns to head down the hall that they notice Tia, slumped on the floor.

Tia stands up and fights the key again, until it unlocks. She frowns at Quade, then enters her room, leaving nothing, but an echo of a slamming door, in the hallway.

Day 2: Brawns

Chapter 4

Quade opened the door to an abandoned cabin in the woods, not far from where they ran each day. It was slightly dusty, with cob-webs covering the corners of the room. The cabin smelled of timber, reminding Tia of her house.

“How did you find this place, again?” Tia probed Quade, pushing a cob-web out of the way as she wandered inside.

“A family friend told me about it. Apparently, he didn’t need it anymore and told me that I could use it whenever I wanted. I thought it could be a nice place to visit when it’s raining out, and we can’t swim.” He responded, grabbing the broom in the corner. “It needs some cleaning, but it has its charm.”

“Definitely,” Tia agreed, laying down on the bed. Quade laid down beside her as she exhaled.

“Quade, do you think Mr. Avery will bid on us?” she wondered aloud, breathing in the dusty air.

“More than likely. We are both of Pruden descent. You know how he is,” Quade replied, turning to glance at Tia.

“I suppose. Are you afraid of leaving Urbi?” Tia asked, facing him as well. He peered back up at the ceiling, before answering, “I’m terrified.”

***********

The phone in Tia’s room rings early, on the morning of stage two.
Who would call at this hour?
She grabs the phone next to her bed.

“Hello.”

“Is this Conscientia?”
a voice from the other end answers.

“Yes.”

“This is your morning wake up call. All candidates must be dressed and down in the lobby by nine. There will be no food served for breakfast, you must remember to eat before you arrive.”

“Oh, alright. Thank you.”

“Have a good day.”
The lady on the other end disconnects, and Tia places her phone back on the hook. The words,
have a good day
, still hang in the air, as Tia remains in bed. She wonders how any part of the Electus could be considered
good.

She peers around the room for a clock, her head throbbing in pain. It is seven-thirty. Tia crawls out of bed and searches for some clothes in the drawers of the dresser. Other than the first event, the capitol provides attire for the candidates, during the Electus. This assures a fair competition. Each drawer is marked for the outfits they are required to wear, during different stages. Today’s is a pair of shorts, sports bra, and a cotton t-shirt.

Tia heads for the shower. The water is rejuvenating, as she scrubs off the make-up from yesterday. The soap has a hint of vanilla as well as the shampoo. She never wants to leave the bathroom. Even the towels are soft and smell fresh, like spring air.

Her mind races through the events of last night. Even though she spent a majority of her free time physically preparing for this event, Tia wonders if she will be able to recover from her blunder the previous evening. Not only did she freak out on stage, she vomited in front of the audience, leaders, and anyone else in the viewing area. Tia is afraid that no amount of physical endurance, or high ranking scores in school, can assist her in erasing that image from the leaders’ minds.

After she showers, Tia decides to hunt down some sustenance. In the refrigerator she spots eggs and some milk.
This will work
, she thinks.

There is a knock at the door.

“Of course,” she mumbles, and opens it to find Quade. “What?” she snaps.

Quade, without a word, enters her room. He is already dressed and prepared to go downstairs. His temper is hanging on by a thread. Tia shuts the door, waiting for him to explode. “Look, before you say anything...” she starts, and he cuts her off.

“No,
you
look. I need you to just cut the attitude, Tia. I’m serious. For too long I’ve been hung up on you. Finally, I accept that nothing will happen between us. Then, yesterday, you just...act…like...all...jealous.” Quade’s arms are flailing around as he speaks. Tia stands far away, as to avoid injury.

“Jealous? Ha!” Tia’s anger piling up inside of her.
I really don’t have time for something so trivial right now. I have a fight to prepare for
, she thinks.

“Yes!” He approaches her, shoving a finger in her face. “Look me in the eye and tell me you are not jealous.”

She glances up at him. His eyes are glowing red, hers pink.
Why do we always end up like this?

“Fine. Maybe a little jealous. But admit that you are trying to make me jealous.” She places her hands on her hips.

“What if I am? It’s the only way to get the truth out of you!”

In a huff, she stomps into the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” he quizzes, following her.

“Excuse me if I don’t want to stand around and argue in my bath robe when we have to be down in the lobby in forty-five minutes.” She slams shut the door to the bathroom.

“Oh, slamming the door. Real original, Tia! Haven’t seen you do that before!”

She flings open the door. “If you are going to stand here in my room, could you at least make us breakfast? The eggs are in the fridge. I have to dry my hair,” she requests, calmly, then gently closes the door, a second time.

He stands there, for a moment, not sure what he should do.

“Okay! But only because I’m hungry! Not because your demon eyes demand it!” Next thing Quade hears is the hair dryer. He walks over and makes some scrambled eggs.

After five minutes, Tia exits the bathroom, fully dressed, her hair now pulled up in a pony tail.

“Smells fantastic,” she comments with a smile.

“Thanks,” Quade returns a grin, forgetting, for a moment, his anger with Tia.

“I’ll make toast,” Tia declares, as she walks over to the toaster with some bread.

They stand in the kitchen for a moment to finish preparing their meal. Tia’s demeanor is calm, as she butters the toast for the two of them. Then, the question that haunted her all night comes out.

“Did you have sex with her?”

He waits to respond, focusing on placing an even amount of eggs on each plate. “No, she was a little upset with me when she left. I was able to calm her down, but I don’t think we will attempt it again for a while.”

“Attempt? You
almost
had sex with her?” Tia pries, flinging butter as she gestures with her hands, and forgetting that she is holding a knife.

“Well, you thought we did. Why is attempting worse?” he squawks, adding the last bit of eggs to his plate, to make his pile slightly larger.

“I didn’t think you would actually try to. I asked, because I figured, I already knew the answer was no.” Tia goes back to her task. Then realizes something. “Wait, why didn’t you?”

He sighs and grabs his piece of toast, from Tia’s hand. “There was an incident,” he responds, before taking a bite.

“Like what? Oh! Quick draw?” she inquires in a sympathetic tone.

“No!” he exclaims. “We didn’t even make it that far. My shirt was the only thing that ‘got off’. We were making out, and when she touched the back of my hair, I...” he trails off, staring out into space, as though he is recalling a bad moment.

“You?” Tia prompts.

“Forget it, we need to eat.” He grabs his plate and sits on the couch. Tia follows him.
I guess we do need to hurry,
she thinks, dropping the subject.

The lobby is packed with the other candidates, all dressed in the same attire. Tia feels more comfortable this way, allowing herself to blend into her surroundings. She traipse around, as the other candidates converse amongst themselves. No one seems to say anything to her.
Maybe they will forget about my mishap on stage, yesterday.

Then, a young Regnumian boy points Tia out to his friend and pretends to barf. She rolls her eyes and turns away as they laugh at her. Lucas walks over next to Tia and stands in silence. Tia wonders if he is going to speak, momentarily, wishing he wouldn’t.

“Hello,” Tia finally greets Lucas, attempting pleasantries.

“Oh, hi,” he replies, pushing up his glasses.

“How are you?”

“Okay,” he leans in to whisper, “could you not speak to me in front of all these people. I don’t want to be embarrassed. You know, talking to the girl who vomits on stage.”

Tia sighs and leans against the fountain. She is starting to feel the weight of the upcoming event. From the videos they demonstrated in school, of the previous Electuses, it appears these fights can be rather deadly if not handled properly. It is as though a beast arises, during the Brawns category.

She knows, physically, she is in shape, and a few times her and Quade practiced blocking. She still senses fear of the unknown.
Who will my opponent be? Will I freak out like last night?
Tia runs through a fight scene, in her mind, where she is beaten to a pulp due to her stage fright.

On the wall above the door, the clock reads nine thirteen. She wonders what is taking so long to start. The only physical skill being tested right now is her ability to stay awake. Scanning the room, she catches Quade chatting with Kira.

Something about her rubs Tia the wrong way.
Maybe her hair is too long. Yeah, that’s it. Who keeps their hair that long, anyway?
Tia attempts to find faults in Kira. Then, she realizes, there isn’t anything wrong with her. She is just a single girl flirting with a single guy.
I don’t know why it would be so bad for him to date her. Not like I’m going to make a move on him.

Finally, an instructor, dressed in the same attire as the candidates, arrives with a clipboard. She has a similar build to Tia’s. Only she is much older with short, brown hair. The woman counts in her head, pointing at each candidate with her finger. Checking her list one more time, she notices Tia by the fountain and gestures, with her finger, to step closer to the rest of the crowd.