Nonexistent

THIRTY- FIVE- Rogue

DOWN the street, Nobles dressed in mountains of jewels and silk make their way through the bustling market, flashing their wealth and attracting thieves in the crowded pack. Merchants constantly ring their bells to grab the crowds' attention for their cheap deals, and lowly Peasants pushing their wagons along the noisy cobblestone streets, enduring the scorching sun's heat to earn a day's wage. 

With the fast pace of the car and the abundance of Security around it, I almost don't notice the Nonexistents. They lurk in the shadows of dark alleys away from the flocking crowd, most of them resembling skin and bones as they slowly die out of starvation and dehydration. A lump of guilt and gratefulness slowly forms in my throat as I stare at my reflection at the rear-view mirror...

The car passes a multitude of markets brimming  with the stench of sweat and rotting food. Slowing, it glides along a raw dirt roadway into an aged structure adorned with memories of better times. My hands begin to feel clammy against my bouncing knee. I bite my lip out of habit from the anxiety swelling within me.

Seeing familiar faces, everyone who passed the Finals, out there entering the hall... while I'm watching them from a tinted car window doesn't make me feel good at all. Like I'm somehow different now. Above them, even though I know I'm not. My eyes desperately comb through the throng for Mason and Calia, but I don't find them. Giving up, I peek at where the car is parked, somehow focusing on the Grand Hall behind it. 

The sight alone is breathtaking.

I gape at the building, full of intricate carvings and elaborate embellishments. Each window rises so high that its top is out of view from the limiting car window. They are all uniformly lined with the same thick stone borders that have yet to show signs of even a single crack. Basking in the heat, ornaments that cover the columns catch the scorching sunlight, glistening ever-so-slightly. The towering pillars, sturdy and secure, stand grandly before the huge double doors, casting long shadows across the ground. I hesitate...

Nervousness suddenly plummets down my throat, bursting into a million butterflies in my stomach. "Don't worry, I'm not a morning person either," a voice suddenly knocks me out of my daze as the other car door swings open. 

The prince gets in the car and closes the door gently behind him. "I wasn't worrying," I half lie. Still, looking out the window, I crane my head to try to catch a glimpse of the Grand Hall's famous crystal ceiling through the double doors, but it's out of view. 

"Your expression says otherwise." He crosses his arms over his chest, moves over towards me and asks, "Are you alright?"

I blow some hair off my face as I turn to him and briefly nod. 

I'm wearing the most sophisticated outfit I have ever dressed in, perfectly fitting beautiful corduroy pants, a sensuous quality black tank top, and a thick leather jacket draping over my bare shoulders. The combat boots I used to own were replaced by a brand new pair. I'm still not used to how pristine and shiny they look, but I'm already loving them. My hair is tightly clamped into a huge neat bun, but my annoying baby hairs still rebel against the hairspray.

"You look phenomenal," Prince Zepher says after a moment of silence. But his tone is polite, letting me know it's something he said just to casually break the tranquility. I raise my head to acknowledge him.