Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle was less than pleased about his position in this competition. After his name had been drawn in the “completely random” selection to be a suitor in the newest season of Tie the Knot during this year’s send-off ceremony at the end of the school year, he’d immediately gone to the Headmage’s office to politely request (complain until he got his way) that he be removed from the show. He had his studies to focus on. Night Raven College was one of the most prestigious institutions of higher learning in the whole of Twisted Wonderland. Riddle didn’t have time for frivolities some idiotic dating show for those with nothing more important in their lives than rotting in front of a television screen. Unfortunately, the Headmage had “subtly” told him that if he didn’t participate, he could kiss his scholarships and research funding goodbye, because apparently the school’s endowment was getting low. That sounded like BS to Riddle, but there was nothing he could do. He sent his mother a letter of apology for the way her son was being forced to humiliate himself for the entertainment of the masses and resigned himself to his fate.

Tie the Knot Season 13: Red Strings of Fate & Red Pens (Riddle wondered who approved that awful name) was being filmed entirely at Night Raven College, and the students were its sole participants. It was a dating reality show where, essentially, the goal was for the “Fated” to win the hand of the “Muse” by showing off their strengths in physical and magical feats and attempting to charm her, with some game show aspects impeding their progress, of course. Well, they couldn’t find a her to be their Muse, seeing as NRC was an all-male university. The crew assured Headmage Crowley that it would look progressive and generate buzz around the show and the school both.

Riddle sighed as he hauled his bags into “Mount Helicon,” otherwise known as the remodeled Ramshackle Dorm, where he would be spending the next eight weeks of his life. Hopefully they had fixed the leaks, or at least the holes in the roof. This was going to be the worst summer of his life, he could just feel it. Nonetheless, he kept his posture immaculate and his expression neutral. He had endured worse than a mindless television show—but never for so long unabated.

Well. Chin up. It’d be okay.

His self-reassurances were not exactly convincing, not even in his own mind, and he sighed heavily. Why did it always have to be him?

—

It was not okay. The first competition for an advantage (namely, to decide the order that the Fated would have their first dates with the Muse, with winners choosing first and losers choosing last) was an obstacle course. Whoever had the fasted time got to choose first. There was no magic. No twist. It was just... an obstacle course, a purely physical test. Naturally, Riddle came in second... to last, after Floyd Leech, who was apparently in a bad mood that day and just sat at the beginning of the course trying to figure out which sea creatures the clouds looked like that day for forty-five minutes.

Riddle flopped on his bed, bone-tired, sore and, worst of all, a loser. He was preparing to let himself wallow for exactly five minutes when a knock on his door resonated throughout the whole room.