Chapter 8

"And now, gentlemen, escort your ladies to the back field and prepare for the game!"

The grounds immediately came alive. Couples shifted, animated voices rose. Someone among the contestants laughed, someone slipped an arm around his partner, and a plump guy named Yaroslav, a very serious brunet in a Sherlock Holmes-style tweed cap, straightened demonstratively and crooked his elbow, clearly trying to honor the "spirit of chivalry." Tall Yvette gave him a strange sideways look from above, the spoons in her ears swayed, but she took his arm. Light music began to play, the cameras froze in anticipation of tender moments, and the couples set off around the mansion as if the whole thing really were happening in English Sussex, not an hour's drive from our hometown.

I followed the others too, studying the beautiful mansion, the bas-reliefs over the windows, the tiles under my feet... anything, as long as I did not look toward my partner. But Demond's shadow caught up with me and loomed at my side. His displeased voice sounded reproachfully above my ear:

"Catkin, are you kidding me? Or pretending you've gone deaf?"

I was genuinely surprised and threw him a proud glance. Staying in character as a "lady," I decided to let the rudeness pass me by, though I did raise one eyebrow theatrically.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning exactly that. Are you planning to take my arm?" Dennis ground out through his teeth as he walked beside me. "Did you hear what the host said? If you don't do it right now, I'll grab you by the scarf myself and lead you like a circus monkey on a leash. We're a couple, so play by the rules."

I stared at him, stunned, suddenly losing my step.

"Like... a monkey?!" I choked in outrage, falling behind. "Demond," I hurried after him, going pale with fury, "are you talking about me?"

"No, about the Princess of Saxony. I'd say it differently about you." Blue eyes flashed sharply from under his long fringe. "Monkey, mirror, lipstick. Next time, call an adult into the room."

What?! He was mocking me, as always!

"You... monkey demon!" I wanted to hit him. "All you're missing are horns and hooves. And a forked tongue, like a snake!"

"Maybe I do have one, Cat." Demond smirked crookedly, leaned down, and showed a fang. "I'm just saving it for special occasions."

"I don't doubt it!" I hissed in an angry whisper. "And I don't want to know about your occasions. Judging by the nonsense you spew, it isn't connected to your brain. It's connected to a tanker full of poison."

"Hurt?"

"No, awed by your wit... idiot. Where do you draw it from, an empty bucket?"

"Last time I'm asking. Will you take my arm? I wasn't joking about the scarf. And stop hissing. People are already looking."

I badly wanted to answer Demond with something cutting. Something that would knock his rotten eloquence flat in one blow. But the couples ahead of us had started glancing back, so I obediently fell quiet and realized that everyone else was walking with perfect decorum. Only the two of us, like schoolkids at a grown-up assembly, couldn't share one backpack between us.

"Fine," I surrendered quietly, moving closer to him. "So be it. But I cannot believe, Demond, that you're asking me for this. As if kindergarten wasn't enough for the two of us."

I quickly grabbed his hand, settled my palm in his, and tried to pretend this had been the plan all along. I had simply been distracted by the beauty of the building, the scenery, and had forgotten about my partner. It happens, right?

Dennis went silent, and we managed to walk half the alley before he suddenly said, tense and unusually quiet:

"Actually, Catkin, I meant take my arm. Not literally hold my hand. I thought you'd figure that out."

"What?" I turned my head toward him, feeling the ground sink under my feet from awkwardness and heat rush into my cheeks. "Seriously?"

But he was right. All the couples ahead of us were walking arm in arm, and only the two of us looked like lovestruck teenagers on a first date. More precisely, on a second one.

"You set me up!" I tried to yank my fingers free and step away, but Dennis squeezed my hand tight and would not let me go.

"Too late. Don't twitch. The cameras are watching," he reminded me almost soundlessly. "Better smile and pretend you're crazy not only about my sense of humor, but my charisma too."

"In your dreams!"

"Exactly. But I don't have another option for you."

I did not want to smile at all, especially after Demond's stupid joke about the monkey and the lipstick. Quite the opposite. I wanted to burst into tears. And if I was honest with myself, probably because he disliked me THAT much. I disliked him too, of course. Even A LOT! But...

I couldn't find an answer. So I simply walked beside Demond, trying to remember Astralia and all the unfairly hurt girls in the world, for whom someone, someday, would definitely take revenge. Maybe even me. Lost in thought, I arrived at the first quest site, the Trust Maze, proud and pensive. We were lined up before the prepared location, which looked like a miniature green park, and Valentine appeared in front of everyone again.

As we walked, light English-style music had accompanied us. Now it shifted into something more rhythmic, with notes of tension. The cameras on long cranes came alive again, flying over the field and the contestants. The female director ordered the assistants to move something and signaled for us to be quiet. The music faded, and Valentine began to speak:

"Our magnificent couples!" the host's velvet voice rang loudly from the portable speakers. "Welcome to the first challenge of today's date, the one no love story can exist without... the test of trust!"

He made a meaningful pause, swept his gaze over everyone, and at that exact moment a solemn gong crashed above our heads. Ta-da! I jumped in surprise, someone nearby squealed, and Demond swore roughly, but he kept hold of my hand.

"Allow me to present the Trust Maze! A place of decisions and action, thought and silence. A place that very soon will awaken not only your intuition, but also your doubts!"

Valentine half turned, flung up his hand, and pointed toward the location, yielding the stage to the hovering camera and our eyes.

A carefully designed structure spread across the wide lawn, broad enough and tangled enough to matter, assembled from rigid modules that in places rose higher than three meters and very convincingly imitated a living hedge. Decorative Victorian-style lamps stood at the maze's corners, a dome was visible in the center, and some of the walls remained translucent... I could make out doors and numbered signs in them. And directly before us rose a beautiful arch twined with white roses and frosty ivy.