We Need A Plan. No, Not That One by Sarah McCormack (Me) (ink book reader txt) 📕

Part One..

Poker Face.

“Legs.” Persephone swung her legs down from the cream couch and sighed.
“The couch wasn't even that comfortable anyway.” She muttered. Her mother was forever nagging about her doing everything wrong. Lately she couldn't seem to do anything right. She loved her mother, but she hated the nagging.
She stood from the couch and ran her fingers along the pearl incrested armrest as she left the room. The hallway was lined with too many doors for Persephone to count on both her hands, aswel as dozens of portraits and sculptures. It was her favourite part in the mansion. Not because of the huge vanity mirrors or the portraits of the people in her family, but because she felt so out of place when she was on this floor of the house.
She loved knowing that her step father Eragon hated her hanging around this part of the mansion if there were guests. He thinks it would give the wrong impression if they saw Persephone, who's everyday wear usually consisted of a pair of cut-off shorts with treads hanging everywhere, and a tank top or t-shirt. She usually had her hair down in it's natural waves or else tied back into a pony tail. He thought she never seemed to look 'lady like' and constently reminded her of how much her younger sister showed her up in public. Not that Faith tried to show her older sister up. It was just how she was naturally graceful and beautiful and well dressed and....perfectly 'lady-like', really.
Every male guest to the mansion would gape at Faith like she couldn't see them. They would drool over her and even try to hit on her. Not that Persephone didn't get much attention. She did. But men had learned to stay well away from her. She was known for speaking her mind, breaking the rules and not being afraid to hit men in their....jewels, for coming on to her. Or trying to anyway.
She hadn't always been so resentful towards Eragon. When her mother had first told her she had met someone, Persephone was happy...sort of. Her mother seemed to be happy so why shouldn't she and Faith be happy too?
She tried to be supportive, you know, help her with outfits to wear on dates- even though she and her mother never had the same sense of dress so Faith was more helpful in that department. She really did try...
Until she met Eragon.
As soon as he first walked in the door, Persephone thought he was bad news. The way he walked in as if he had a bubble of arrogance around him, the way he looked her and her sister up and down before extending a hand and shaking theirs.
The next day she had it out with her mother and tried to find what it was that she saw in him. And now, here she was in the big mansion reserved for the Ruler of Vistic. Eragon to be precise.
And she had been right about Eragon. His last act of stupidity was just another reason and confirmation of her thoughts and knowledge.
He had created the Vistic Tournament five years ago, just a few months after he had become Ruler. It's a fifty man tournament where young men fight eachother and the dangers of a fixed arena where there lies monsters created by Eragon's scientists for the arenas. Monsters like Armours; men armed with enough weapons to wipe out an entire city on one round in each gun and a throw of each knife. Knights; wolf like beasts formed from a mutation of bears and lions that have a nasty liking of human blood.
She hated the man for everything he was worth.
The look in the girl's eyes when they were whisked away from their families and into the arms of a disgusting, bloody killer who had only gained her hand by slaughtering other men- the prize at the end of the tournament is the hand of a fair lady.
Each year Eragon chose a different young girl to play the part of the prize. Each year she is wealty and well to do so the winner is guaranteed a rich future ahead of them.
Eragon hand picks the girls and the families have no choice but to abide by his rules, other wise he has the power to execute them in terms of uprising. He had been very cunning and sly when he had created the rules and laws of Vistic.
She walked along the hallway in her bare feet, the carpet felt soft under the soul of her foot. She held her finger between the two pages of her book that she had stopped at. As she was passing Eragon's guest waiting room; the room he used for people waiting to speak to him, she ran her hand through her chocolate brown hair and stopped walking. She took two steps backwards and peeked into the waiting room.
Usually the room was full of the type of people Persephone avoided, but someone had caught her eye.
A boy, one that would look like a man if you didn't get close enough, sat on one of the cushioned seats. Persephone knew he was sixteen, a year younger than herself. His face was a contrast of dark hair and eyes against pale white skin. He sat out of place in a t-shirt and jeans amongst the many suits and ties around him.
She knew Faith wasn't home. She was out somewhere in Vistic, feeding homeless people or something along those lines. If Eragon found the boy today, he wouldn't be happy. He had seen him lingering around the mansion and swore that the next time he saw him, there'd be trouble.
Persephone looked up and down the hallway. A handfull of cleaners and a few guests were walking the hall. She then looked for the cameras. She folded down the ear of the page she had stopped on in her book and put it on the ground.
She wasn't supposed to go into the waiting room. None of them ever were. One of Eragon's crazy rules that he thought was sane. She pulled her jacket off and threw it at the camera, covering the lens. She knew she would only have a few minutes before someone would come looking to find her and find out why she covered the camera.
She opened the door to the waiting room and simutaniously, all of the men looked up at her. She had to stifle a smile. They all looked sweaty and nervous, as if they were outside the gates of Hell or something. Then again...
Persephone looked at the boy and he looked back at her. “Joshua,” she said and beckoned him to stand. “Come on.” She told him and waited for him to follow her out of the room.
“Sephy..” He seemed confused.
“What are you doing here Joshua?” She asked him. He put his hands in his pockets. “Faith's not here.” She told him and waited for him to answer.
“I know. What are you doing here? I thought you'd be with Faith.” Persephone was confused now. “Sephy, I want to join the Tournament.” Sephy stared up at him for a moment, trying to figure out why he had chosen such a joke to play. She was aware that the preparation for the Tournament had been set in motion but that was all she knew about it.
“Are you serious? Why in the name of anything good in this forsaken place, would you want to join that thing? And what about Faith? Are you going to just dump her for whoever Eragon has decided to steal from their family?” Persephone narrowed her eyes at Joshua while he widened his before giving her a pitied look.
“Persephone...I'm sorry. I thought you knew.” He admitted.
“What? Joshua, what's going on?” She waited for him to speak. He watched as a cleaner passed them by before answering. He took a hold of her elbow and pulled her to one side.
“Sephy, Eragon chose Faith...” Persephone's face went blank. She shook her head, not believing it. Her little sister, Faith. She was only fifteen. She had only just gotten her first boyfriend, Joshua. And they had to keep it a secret. And now she knew why. If anybody knew that Faith had been sneaking around with someone, they wouldn't accept her as the Prize at the end of the Tournament. The tradition is that a free, innocent girl has to be the Prize, not a girl with a boyfriend or who is attatched to anyone.
When Persephone had walked in on Joshua and Faith kissing that first time, she had sworn she would keep it a secret from everyone. She had just assumed that Faith wanted her private life to stay private.
“Joshua, when is the final entering?” Her voice cracked around the edges as she tried to keep herself from yelling. She could feel the anger boiling up inside of her. Not because she was only finding out about it now, not because her mother, sister and Joshua had kept it from her for so long, but because Eragon had chosen her younger sister in the first place.
In her room, Persephone paced back and forth. She glanced at Joshua who was sitting on her armchair. The armchair that her and Faith had written and drawn on when they were little. Eragon had tried to stop her from taking it with her when she was moving in, but she had insisted on bringing it.
Her room was the smallest bedroom of the lot, but it was still massive with an ensuite . It was painted cream and chocolate brown. The only things in the room was her double bed, her wardrobe, the armchair Joshua was sitting in and a desk that had nothing on the top of it except for a photoframe that held three photographs; one of Persephone, Faith and their two parents. Another photograph of Persephone and Faith together a couple of months before, and the final picture was of Persephone and her father playing a game of pool when she was nine.
She looked like her father more than her mother. She had the same color hair as him and the same golden skin and gold-yellow-amber colored eyes. She also had his stubborness and personality. He and Persephone were always together before he died. She always loved to learn new things and he always had something to teach her. He taught her to play pool and snooker aswel as how to fix household appliances. He even taught her how to hunt and how to defend herself against someone else. After he died, she continued learning all of those things, bettering herself all the time, however she hadn't been able to continue with her any of the training since Eragon had gotten married to her mother.
Faith on the other hand had always been a little princess to their mother. She always helped out with cooking and cleaning and the two of them used to sing together all of the time. Faith was a smaller and younger version of her