dark chocolate—and her expression was cross, pulled into a scowl. She swatted his arm.
“What the—?”
“What is wrong with you?” she snapped. “Has your brain turned to dust?”
“Leila—”
“You play that game every day. Every. Day. And here you are, the first man out. I can’t believe it!”
A smile formed at the corners of his lips. “I know. It was a poor move.”
“A stupid move.”
“Yes, stupid. Completely. The correct answer was clearly the pearls. And to think, it was just three tiles to the right.”
Leila faltered. “You knew the answer?”
“Naturally. Or did you really think my brain had turned to dust?”
“Did you lose on purpose?”
“Perhaps.”
“Tobias!” She swatted his arm again. “Why?”
“Well, you didn’t seem too thrilled when I won the last challenge.”
“You lost for me?”
“What else was I to do?” he said. “You wanted nothing to do with me after my time with Cosima. Tell me, are you still utterly repulsed by my presence?”
Leila fiddled with her dress. “It’s not that. It’s just…I know what happens during rewards. With Cosima.”
“Maybe you don’t.”
“We’re sisters. We talk. Frequently.”
“Did you talk about my time with Her?”
She looked down at her hands. “No.”
“Good. Then you can hear it from me.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“Leila—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” she said. “You will respect my wishes.”
The look in her eyes was stern, even commanding, and though he wanted to argue his point, he held his tongue. “Fine. But you’re making a mistake.”
Leila flashed him a glare. “God, look at you. You’re an artist, and you broke your fingers.” She took his hand, studying it. “On your right hand, no less.”
“It’s a good thing I’m left-handed, then.”
Leila’s eyes darted toward him, and he donned a cheeky grin. “Please don’t let my sacrifice be in vain.”
“And what exactly do you expect from me in return for your sacrifice?”
“Just your company.”
A hint of a smile worked its way across her lips, as if she was fighting to keep it at bay. “Here, let me take a look at your fingers.” She pulled a rag from her satchel and tossed it at him. “And while I’m at it, wipe yourself down—with your good hand. You look like you belong in a damn brothel.”
Tobias chuckled, wiping the oils from his chest while Leila examined his injury. She raised her free hand above her head and snapped her fingers. “Tobias.”
“Hm?”
Crack. A sting shot through his ring finger as Leila wrenched it into place.
“Shit!”
“Apologies. I know it hurts, but the pain will subside in a moment.” She reached to the side and snapped her fingers once more. “Over here.”
“What?”
Crack. Leila popped his little finger into proper alignment, and a surge of pain spiked through his hand.
“Goddammit—”
“All done. The worst is over.”
Leila plucked three vials from her satchel, lathering her palms before coating his fingers in whatever concoction she had created. Each touch sent fiery pangs bursting through his swollen hand, and he exhaled when she finished, relieved.
“So tell me, Tobias,” Leila said, bandaging his fingers, “why are you here?”
“That’s a silly question. I’m here because I lost the challenge.”
“No, I mean, why are you here—in this tournament? You’re obviously not here to be the Champion. If you were, you’d be with Cosima right now, and your fingers wouldn’t be pointing in opposite directions.”
Tobias said nothing. The answer was plain, simple, and blasphemous, and he could tell by the look in Leila’s eye that she had already ascertained it for herself.
“Your sister.”
“Her care is expensive,” he muttered.
“And what of your parents?”
“My father’s dead. Killed in the accident that crippled my sister. My mother cares for her all day. I started laboring, trying to support them both.” He looked down at his calloused palms. “It’s not enough. She is wrought with challenges. With suffering.”
Leila’s gaze softened. “What’s her name?”
“Naomi.”
“Is she older or younger?”
He smiled. “We’re twins.”
“Twins?” She met his smile with her own. “Do you look alike?”
“Identical. My female equivalent.”
“And what else? Is she an artist like you?”
“God no.” He laughed. “She’s terrible. Her efforts, like a child’s scribbles. No, she was to be a metalsmith.”
“A metalsmith? Really?”
“I know. It’s a bit unprecedented, but she does what she pleases. I think you’d like her.”
“I bet you’re right. She’s clearly an individual, not unlike yourself. I’m sure it’s one of the many traits that bind you two together. And one of the countless reasons why you’d sacrifice yourself just for her.”
Leila’s words were kind, yet they weighed heavily in his chest—a reminder of his misdeeds.
“You think I’m a fraud,” he muttered. “That I dishonor The