NINE

A servant girl leads me to my room for the night.

It's beautiful, even if it's small. The architecture of this manor is magnificent, and this room does not undermine that. It's been dressed and furnished with a mix of colours; navy blue and grey, which is unlikely to be the creative choice of the King himself. Other than a bed, a couple bedside tables, and an armoire, the room has little to it.

This time last night, I was in a cave with Marek, wondering what my future would hold. Now I'm being invited to dinner with a King. But I'm not excited, as I kick off my shoes, digging my toes into the mink rug beneath me. I'm dreading what this could mean for Marek and I.

Feeling the stuffiness of the room, I pop open the glass doors that lead out onto a balcony. Even if I survived the jump below, I wouldn't outrun the infestation of his guards that linger below.

Stepping outside, I admire the familiar view. In the distance, is a never ending forest, the shadowy green of the treetops bleeding into a mix of sultry dark colours as night approaches. Jade Province, even if I travel, will forever remain my favourite place. I don't think the beaches of the Golden Province, or the cities of Scarlet could ever be as satisfying as here. Even if my love for this Province is bred from lost halcyon memories from long ago.

Steps sound beside me, making me flinch. Looking to my right, I see another balcony, only a few feet away from me. Marek steps out, dressed in a close cut button-up with dark pants to match. My mouth shamefully dries.

“You went along with everything I said, despite what it would mean for you if we left together. Why?” he questions, his voice low and deep, heating my blood. He leans his forearms against the balcony railing, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, watching me.

I loosen a breath, the shudder to it betraying the coolness I'm trying to exude. “You seemed so confident in what you were saying.”

“You may have saved us in doing so," he admits, diverting his gaze toward the forest. The green palette of colours reflect off the forest and into his eyes, which glaze over slightly. Freedom; something I'm craving, after this.

“Why the dramatics then? Why lie?” I question, recalling the backstory he created with ease, suggesting this isn't the first treacherous situation he has attempted to get out of.

“A hunch, maybe. I don’t like him.”

I survey his expression. He's deep in thought, likely mulling over every word Taius shared. I don't trust the King, but I am curious about his intentions with inviting us to dinner like he did. I see it now, the drama and pretentiousness of the King, which when combined with boredom, is a dangerous mix.

“I mean, what’s to like? A little self preservation never hurt no one," I remark. It's evident Taius and his undeniable power and handsome appearance caught us both off guard. His lethality is defined in his immaculate look, when I was expecting a much older, wiser and hopefully fairer man.

Marek is smiling, looking toward the horizon. “I’m glad you are the way you are.”

“You hardly know me.”

“I know you’re not just some simple, Tani loving fool. You actually have a working mind in that head of yours," he comments, not intending to compliment me, just to be honest. I know why he's saying that; because I trusted him above Tai. Instead of admitting his guilt on his behalf, I kept my mouth shut.

I'm still trying to figure out why I did that. It's something to do with the same feeling Marek got from him. A hunch, that there is more to Taius than his cool façade, a malignant undertone bleeding through, rifling my senses.

“You should know, those who believe in my Tani are very smart people," I remark pointedly. In the distant sky, tangerine orange tints milky clouds, the subtle movements of the forest soothing, but not enough to quell the fear blossoming within me. I have no one here to complete trust, to rely on. Myself will have to be good enough.

“Not like you. You’re...something else," Marek murmurs, his tone shamefully blending into my confidence, even if I don't want it to.

The sarcastic tone doesn't have to be faked. “Flattered.”

“I mean it. You know trusting me is for the better, at least right now. You’re not highly strung, you don’t act on a whim. You’re smart," he continues. I look at him, mustering heat into my gaze. His judgments favour him, not me. If I were smart, I wouldn't have trusted him in the first place.

“You’re only saying that because you think I trusted you. That’s what you want," I remind him, raising an eyebrow.

He frowns, not expecting that answer. There's no way he can tell me I'm wrong either, considering his motives have been entrenched since the moment he kidnapped me. He may be offering to protect me, showing his guilt for putting me in this situation, but I am still skeptical. I have every right to be, and he knows that.

I watch the muscles in his jaw, as he clenches it tightly. “Maybe you're right. I wouldn’t trust me either."

“Don’t mistake me going along with your plan as trust. You’re still my kidnapper," I add. His grim expression reaches his eyes, making me wonder if that blue is what the ocean I've never seen looks like. It seems the colour can be just as tumultuous; always changing, never the same shade.

A Summoner gift, surely.

“Anyway. I wouldn’t worry about your fate here, whatever it may be,” Marek comments. “Now, he assumes you have a wealthy family, so he will be more reluctant to push punishment on you. And because of this disease of yours, if you were to be locked up, you would be in reasonable conditions. And your fragility will ensure he won’t lay a hand on you.”

Oh. It's a blanket story that has the potential to help me, which I have to commend him for. I hadn't thought that far in advance, nor even began to consider my next move, like he clearly has. But it's less of the fact that he came up with this story for easily that surprises me, and more of his immediate desire to protect me, even before himself.

“You really thought this through.”

“The last one I’m not so sure about. The way he looked at you,” he breaks off, mulling carefully over his words, one by one. “Like he would eat you alive.”

I shiver, wishing he hadn't said that to me. Maybe it was because I was staring at my feet most of the time, but I don't recall him looking at me with anything other than boredom, and maybe the faintest hint of curiosity.

“I’m not even going to ask what you mean by that," I breathe, my voice nearly being carried away with the sweet scented breeze that ruffles my hair and plays with my loose clothing.

“I’ll get you out of this. I owe you that much," he murmurs.

Looking at him, I admire the way the sun touches his features, playing with the reflections of his remaining marking, which glitters like the many facets of a gem. It is beginning to form back along his hairline, a silvery blue display of nature's artistry, an unmistakable lustre. It's not fair, him being that beautiful so effortlessly.

One dark thought crawls into my mind. “When we get out, am I your prisoner again?”

“If we get out of this...I’ll deliver you to your front door, and shake your father's hand myself," he admits, smiling despite the fear laden in that sentence. If we get out of this. There's no guarantee that we will.

“My father is in the war, so no chance of that,” I share, sliding my hand along the glossy finish of the railing beneath my palms.

“My father was in the war too.”

Was. He doesn’t have to say anymore.

“Why did you say it like you don’t think we will get out of here?" I can't help but ask, trying to gauge what he took from the conversation.

“I’ll be honest with you, Akara," Marek breathes, looking out into the distance, like the horizon withholds all of the answers to our problems. “People like him, Kings, like to play. Boredom, arrogance, whatever it might be, he will keep us here until he has bled us dry, until we’ve witnessed his theatrics.”

“What gives you that impression?" I already know. I got the same impression, like Taius was pushing us around, looking for a reaction that never came.

Maybe acquiring prisoners is a rare occurrence, although this proves how important this border access is to him. Either he is threatened by a presence in that area, or he is hiding something that is worth doing this in order to protect it.

Perhaps he is trying to figure out if we saw anything...In his own, odd way.

“The way he invited us to dinner like that. Like it’s a game to him, a show-and-tell," Marek continues, leaning back to unroll his sleeves. I watch as he does so, admiring the decadent navy fabric that compliments his eyes in a mouth-watering way. As beautiful as it may look, it does little to disguise the hidden power of his arms beneath it. We have been here only a few moments, and Taius has already had an outfit sourced for him.

He's dressing us, like he is playing a game of house.

“Then we will be what he wants. A piece in his game of house. I’m the wealthy, sheltered girl, and you’re my escort," I respond, feeding into the façade he layered me in.

Marek's smile is dazzling. “Hope you’re a good actor.”

I watch him depart back into his room, considering my future. Our safety, our survival relies on how successfully I can fool a King. Taius, although confident, opulent and regal, his foresight seems blurred by his desire to play.

Leaving the warm, comforting grasp of the breeze, I wander inside, shocked to see a garment draped over the bed, glaring at me.

It's purpose is practically written all over it.

Gently, I pick up the dress by it's thin straps, examining it. The uncomfortably diaphanous fabric glides through my fingers, a pale blue colour. I've never touched anything this beautiful, worth as much money as this likely was. Yet I'm not impressed, as I lay it down, reaching to the hem to pull off my shirt.

This place may be be beautiful in every way possible, and so may the contents, but I refuse to be seduced by it all.

I have a job to do. And that is to trick a King.