Pastries

A sigh rippled through the crowd. The scores were neck and neck; they had reached the sixteenth question, yet the tally was only 12 to 12.

Trion stood in the middle of the long table on the left, holding the list of questions. Many had already been asked and were crossed out.

Trion complained, "The questions we came up with are far too easy! Good heavens, I could answer some of them even if I hadn't attended tonight's gathering—there's no challenge to them at all!"

"Fine," Fatima agreed. "How about we pause for five minutes and revise the remaining questions?"

"Great! Couldn't be better." Trion held out his hand. "Who has the pen? Give it to me!"

The young people seated opposite Trion clearly had the same idea. They called one another over and gathered at the other end of the long table to discuss their strategy again.

The crowd around Hesta ebbed away like the tide. She soon noticed that Old Irene, the Lord's Blessing Gospel Society member who had spoken so eloquently with Trion that afternoon, was sitting to her left, with three or four people between them.

Most of the guests who had not been swept up in the game were older. Several were discussing tomorrow evening's reception at the Grand Residence in eastern Emangria, supposedly held for officials from District 1 and District 3 who had come to conduct an inspection. Quite a few guests present had received invitations as well, but nobody was particularly interested in such a gathering, and they asked one another whether they were truly going tomorrow.

"Reader, you received an invitation too, didn't you?" someone suddenly asked.

Kovishik nodded.

"He is the Emperor's eyes now." Old Irene smiled like a fox. "Naturally, he cannot afford to miss even the slightest stir."