Emilie | You Should See Me In A Crown

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I run up the fifth and final staircase with a speed I never knew I had.

I'm way ahead of all the others – or maybe they're just giving me some wide berth. I don't know if I can say anything about our situation right now. At the start, we planned for eight hours to figure everything out – and now time's running faster than I am. We've got barely two and a half hours left and we've got nothing figured out.

The steps of this staircase are short and glossy, and insanely slippery. I'm so glad I ditched those heels back home – oh. I almost forgot.

My bag was in Stellabrooke the entire time. I left my bag – and the stuff that's in it – there. I was lucky they didn't check what was in it at the entrance. If they did, I'd be busted for good.

"Hey." I look up into Matt's half-smiling face. It's a queer look – it's like he can't decide whether to smile or frown. His hair's everywhere, sweat's dripping down his forehead – and, oh, he's already ahead of me.

"Hey?" I say, smiling a little. Might as well, really. "What's, um, up?"

He gives a nervous laugh. "Nothing. Come on."

I quickly steal a glance at Diego and Hunter, behind us. Diego, being the ultimate gentleman that he is, wiggles his eyebrows at me.

Didn't think he was capable of that. Hunter just shakes his head and gestures at me to start moving.

Stellabrooke has – I won't lie – a pretty tower hall. It's made of amber and light honey tones, much like the color of my hair, and embellished with metallic designs of rose creepers curling up the railing. Why on Earth is this place so pretty?

Once we're on the first landing, Diego overtakes me and runs straight into the little room in the front. Hunter, Matt and I follow. I spot my bag on a pouffe. I nonchalantly pick it up and sling it over my shoulder. The guys' faces indicate they haven't noticed.

"Okay, guys," Diego says, casting quick glances around the interiors. "Look for it – whatever it is."

"Don't think that's necessary, Sarge," Matt says, stress and sarcasm melded in his voice. "Look."

I stare straight ahead. Right enough, whatever's planned for me is right there, placed neatly on a center-table. It's almost like whoever planned this knew we wouldn't have enough time to actually search for it, and hence decided to keep it in plain sight.

Like all the other things we've been shown in our time here, this one stays true to the norm. I can't make heads nor tails of the silver crown on the table.

"A crown?" Hunter asks, moving closer. "Lemme take a look."

"Don't," I say, moving forward. "Who knows what sort of trap this thing is? I mean –"

"Jesus, Emilie." Matt shakes his head. "But we're all gonna die anyway! Why do you think I –"

He stops, his cheeks bright red. It takes every bit of my self-restraint to stop mine from doing the same. I hear Diego cough behind me.

"Are we..." he points to himself and Hunter, "...missing something here?"

"No, no, you're not," I say, trying to master an insouciant tone. "Nothing important. Bien, I'll go check that crown."

The silver crown on the table is beautiful, no doubt, but it seems like – it seems like a bit too much to carry on your head. It's way too huge and way too heavy. And way too shimmery. It's the first time in ages I've made that statement. Kat always says you can't ever glow too much.

She's probably wrong, though. I examine the crown, running my fingers along its ridges and dips. One thing about it is certain, though – it could not have been easy to make. From afar, it looks like it's crafted in pure silver, but on a closer observation you can see that it really is made of some sort of opaque crystal. There are gems studded here and there; gems of all colors and sizes that glimmer lightly in the scarce glow of a single overhead lantern.

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