𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐃│✔

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟏

Pandora

♡

"You're sure having three people by your side is enough?" Sir Pisces asks as we watch the fretting group of warriors retreating to their dressing rooms.

I ended up staying longer than I originally planned on to select the two other unfortunate souls who I'll have to work with hereafter. After Eliza dramatically walked off to Gods know where, I had to go through another ten men before the same guard I ran across during my first nightly escapade appeared before me. His cropped platinum hair even shorter than last time I saw him. Sir Damien's silence was made up by the prestigious strikes he served to his opponents, who all ended up losing without even brushing their bamboo sticks against his him. The last man, I chose more haphazardly, deciding to trust my instincts on this one. 

The sun had climbed high above us, coaxing me to find refuge for the mordant heat causing pearls of sweat to bead down my cleavage. That's how my mind was made rather instantly when I caught Sir Aiden's cinnamon eyes glitter in anticipation as he wield his sword strenuously, and secured his place before we even wrapped up our on-to-one.

"I already told the King that sending me there by myself is more than enough. Having three people with me is nearly too many."

"Pandora, you're undermining the strengths these savages have. What happened to the Cold-Blood's is well above us. You know that, we both do."

"They're rebels, Sir, not savages. The true savages are those who abandoned them in deserted lands, starving, to the point where they made it their idiotic belief that trying to overthrow the entire system is the only way out." I correct him on our walk back to the back doors of the Main Hall. The eburnean crescendo of columns holding up the ancient mosaïc paintings wean me off the rootless longing for a home. The viridian bushes rustle feebly when I look up to Sir Pisces when I notice his steps faltering. One blond eyebrow arched upwards, his glare struggles to remain sober.

"Did you just refer to the Royal Council as a bunch of savages?"

Silence stretches out between us, the corner of his mouth twitching when I beckon ignorance. One of my hands rests on my heart, the slight inclination of my head cascading my loosened hair to the hip. My eyes widened in pretended innocence.

"How could I ever dare to say such thing?"I assure him with a hint of dramatic fashion. Mumbling a 'thank you' under my breath when he opens the French door for me. As such, we continue to walk in the direction of the kitchen for lunch, even if it's well past three in the afternoon. Our feet are strolling at equal pace, when really, he's the one leading the way and I'm acting as if I have the slightest clue of where we're going.

"Why do you persist on calling me 'Sir' anyways, just drop the formalities already."

"Are you aware of what calling you by your first name signifies in the Royal Court?"

"It's evidence of the familiarity between us." He answers self-assured, our pace quickening when we smell the mouthwatering scent of dough baking in the oven.

"Letting you call me by my first name is my way of saying that you can trust me. Once I'm sure that I can trust you, I will call you by your first name."

"You don't trust me?"

"Trust is earned, Sir, not entitled. This 'try-out mission', like your men like to call it, is my way of earning your trust."

"Then what is it I need to do in order to deserve your trust, Your Grace?" He smiles curiously, and I pat my leather two-piece clean of dust before walking into my heaven on earth. Trying the best I can to only look half as famished as I truly am. Because everyone runs on their own schedule, diner and breakfast are the only burdensome times where you have to dress up and eat in the main dining hall, where the space between one another is frigid against your nude skin. That's why I purposely eat a tad bit more than my stomach deems fulfilling, so that I don't have to spend a second too long in the awkward presence of these men who make me feel like the ugly duckling of the pack.