Page 92 of A Requiem of Fire and Ice

“What?” she snaps.

“I would answer that without playing this game. Pick another one that’s not as pathetic as your last.”

Pandora looks sour, as if she’s bitten into a lemon with the rind. “Fine then. If I win, you get to let me interrogate Kate privately, and you aren’t allowed to ask what we were talking about.”

“Done,” I say, and it causes her to blink in bewilderment. “Let’s play.”

I let her go first because it taught me a great deal about her movements. Usually, everyone starts from the middle because it’s easier to gain ground by going across, up, and diagonally. Pandora, though, does not know what she’s doing and slots it in the second from the right.

This is going to be painfully easier than I thought. I should have picked the Battleship game. Poor little lamb will not taste victory tonight.

I slide my piece second from the centre, and we go back and forth, but it doesn’t last long before four red circles line up. Using my finger—before Pandora can slide her blue piece in—I drag it over the four red circles and beam a victorious grin at her.

“Fuck,” she mutters.

“Enlighten me,” I encourage.

Pandora throws me a dagger of a look, one that could gut me like a fish and toss me back in the water for the sharks. Not only would she gut me, but the scales protecting the meat would flake away with every slice of her blade.

This woman is a sore loser.

“Uh, fuck it,” Pandora says, sighing. “When you dragged me towards you and separated my legs, I thought you were going to rape me. I freaked out and screamed.” She shrugs, but the stiffness in her shoulders tells me she’s uncomfortable talking about it. “That’s it.”

It’s not, but it’s a start. There’s a reason she freaked out. My thoughts return to Alad when he tells me Astin knows about Pandora’s dark past. I doubt Astin knew Pandora before the incident at the Kingdom of Crystal.

I set the game up again.

She freaked out that night because someone attempted to rape her, or she was raped. All the signs align with that, and I know Pandora’s not lying. Her rigid, awkward, and jerky movements tell me this is the first time she’s spoken about it to anyone, so she doesn’t know how to hold herself.

“Next question, then.” I hand her the blue coin chips. “You said you never played games growing up. What did your parents do with you instead?”

The tightness around her shoulders eases. It’s a question she will happily answer.

“My question is the same.”

I shake my head. “No. Another. Every question needs to be different.”

She points at me and waggles her finger. “You’re just making up rules as you go, aren’t you?”

“Yes. It’s my game, and you are along for the ride. So, another.”

“If I win, you have to be my servant for the day and do as I say.”

“Done,” I say because I know she will lose.

We play again. It goes on longer, but not because she miraculously got better. No, I enjoy playing with my food and watching her squirm. It satisfies me, quenching my hunger for a hunt.

“Okay,” I say, pointing to the four lines crossing, “answer my question.”

With a roll of her eyes, Pandora says, “I was born into this world without a name. I had to remind myself of that. When I was five, I asked my dad why he didn’t call me anything but ‘daughter,’ and he explained it was because he didn’t want me to have any connections, not even a name. I didn’t play with dolls like Typha, nor did I have any toys or games in my room.” She forces a smile. “I was a little girl in a room filled with shadows and empty echoes.”

I cock my head to the side. “Who called you Pandora?”

Pandora rubs her knuckles. “I did when I first started school. I switched between Pandora, Myra, and Averis—but I liked Pandora the most, so I stuck with it.”

I’m unsure of what to say, so I restart the game.

“My question,” I say as I hand her the coin chips, “is not a question this round but more of an action. If I win, I want to see what you’re hiding underneath that shirt.”