Ryme Reynald

Quick Facts

• Role: Candidate from Dixon Colony; first roommate of Malencia “Cia” Vale at the Testing Center
• First appearance: Early written exams at the Testing Center (Chapter 5)
• Key relationship: Cia Vale (roommate, rival, and tragic warning)
• Fate: Dies by suicide during the first stage of the Testing (Chapter 7)

Who They Are

Bold, polished, and brittle beneath the surface, Ryme Reynald is introduced as a poised competitor whose confidence quickly curdles into hostility. She embodies the relentless pressure that shapes the Testing, becoming an early casualty of its emotional warfare and a grim signpost for Cia. Through Ryme, the story exposes the corrosive logic of high-pressure meritocracy and the theme of Survival in a High-Stakes Competition: when every score feels like a verdict, even small slights or missteps can become existential threats.

Appearance

Ryme is repeatedly described as striking and put-together—“tall, beautiful…with broad shoulders and long blond hair.” On the first day she arrives in a “flowing buttercup yellow dress and shiny white slippers,” with “touches of lip stain and eye makeup.” The deliberate polish creates a practiced image of control and superiority that contrasts sharply with the turmoil she cannot hide for long.

Personality & Traits

Ryme’s outward grace and social ease mask insecurity. The more she believes her status is threatened, the more cutting and performative she becomes. Her emotional whiplash—friendly, then condescending; generous, then suspicious; composed, then shattered—reveals how the Testing turns ordinary anxieties into weapons.

• Initially amiable, then strategic: She greets Cia with a “shy smile,” eager to swap details about their colonies. The warmth reads as genuine, but it also functions as reconnaissance—a way to assess a competitor without seeming hostile.
• Arrogant and status-conscious: After day one, she dismisses the tests as simplistic and sneers at candidates who struggled, using the exam as a social hierarchy. Her critique of others signals that her self-worth rests on outperforming peers rather than on learning.
• Paranoid generosity: She offers Cia homemade corncakes but never eats one herself. Cia’s suspicion that the food might be unsafe captures the atmosphere of Trust and Betrayal: even kindness can be a tactic, and the possibility of sabotage haunts every gesture.
• Fragile underneath: Cia later finds her crying over a photo album from home. The image punctures Ryme’s armor—her bravado is a shield for homesickness and fear, and once it cracks, she has nothing else to hold onto.

Character Journey

Ryme’s arc is brief and devastating: from polished competitor to cautionary tale in less than two days. Initially, she tries to control the narrative—projecting superiority, belittling others, framing the exam as trivial. But Cia’s quiet competence exposes the gap between Ryme’s image and her performance, and her façade collapses. The Testing exploits that collapse, showing how ambition and fear feed each other until the drive to win turns into terror of losing. Her end crystallizes the brutal logic of The Price of Success—that the system confuses humanity with weakness—and accelerates Cia’s Coming of Age and Loss of Innocence, stripping away any lingering belief that the Testing will reward character over cruelty.

Key Relationships

• Cia Vale: As Cia’s first close contact outside Five Lakes, Ryme sets the tone for what “competition” will mean—flirtations with friendship that become power plays. Ryme’s taunts aim to unsettle Cia, but when Cia’s calm self-assurance punctures her bravado, Ryme spirals. Her death leaves Cia with a permanent, visceral lesson: the Testing’s most lethal threats are often invisible—shame, fear, and isolation.

Defining Moments

Ryme’s story unfolds in a handful of scenes that expose the Testing’s psychological warfare.

• The corncakes (Chapter 5)
  • What happens: Ryme offers Cia homemade corncakes but doesn’t eat any herself.
  • Why it matters: The gesture blurs the line between hospitality and manipulation. Cia’s hesitation becomes her first lived lesson that trust is dangerous—and that even comfort foods can be weaponized.
• The post-exam taunts (end of Chapter 6)
  • What happens: Ryme belittles the exam and implies that those unfamiliar with differentiation don’t belong. Cia answers coolly that she finished the reading section with time to spare; Ryme falls silent.
  • Why it matters: The exchange reveals Ryme’s insecurity. Cia’s poise destabilizes her, exposing how much Ryme’s identity depends on outperforming others rather than mastering the material.
• The suicide (Chapter 7)
  • What happens: Cia returns to find Ryme has hanged herself.
  • Why it matters: The moment reframes the Testing as lethal even without guns or traps. It’s a breaking point for Cia, who now understands that the stakes are not metaphorical and that silence and shame can kill as effectively as any physical trial.

Symbolism

Ryme symbolizes the Testing’s psychological casualties: bright, ambitious students engineered to compete until they fracture. Her immaculate appearance—yellow dress, careful makeup—becomes an emblem of curated control that cannot withstand the system’s pressure. Her death is not just personal tragedy; it is a warning about institutions that confuse ruthlessness with merit and treat emotional suffering as collateral damage.

Essential Quotes

“I’m Ryme from Dixon Colony. I guess we’re rooming together.” This disarming introduction sets Ryme up as approachable and collaborative, a potential ally in an unfamiliar space. It also positions her as a gatekeeper of the room’s social dynamic; by naming the arrangement, she tacitly asserts control from the start.

“If you get hungry, I brought some corncakes from home. I made them myself. Help yourself.” On its face, the line is domestic and generous. In context, it foreshadows the Testing’s corrosive suspicion: even a homemade welcome can double as a strategic move, forcing Cia to choose between distrust and vulnerability.

“I thought the history section was a bit simplistic. Didn’t you?... And the math section was long, but really — if someone doesn’t know differentiation, they shouldn’t be here.” Ryme’s critique broadcasts superiority while policing who “deserves” a place. The specificity—differentiation—turns knowledge into a purity test, suggesting that worth is measured by speed and recall rather than understanding or integrity.

“I guess Five Lakes Colony schools aren’t as good as the ones in Dixon. Too bad. One of us won’t be around much longer.” The jab escalates from academic snobbery to a veiled threat. By framing elimination as inevitable and personal, Ryme reveals how the Testing warps peers into enemies—and how fear of failure drives cruelty as a form of self-defense.