Chapter 8

Brielle had no time to react save for a startled gasp. She was limp against the man's hard arms as he carried her effortlessly into another hallway, far enough from the meeting room where Vincent and her father's former colleague were talking. Far from the pictures on the white board.

She gazed upon her abductor only when her feet were firmly on the ground. His height dominated over hers. He was a great deal taller than Talin too. A cord of muscle wrapped on his arms, his compact chest pronounced on the grey t-shirt he was wearing. Wavy puff of black hair fell on his shoulders, loose and untangled. His skin was fair, his eyes were brown, and his nose was prominent.

The man's lips perked into a lazy smile. "Well, well, who do we have here?"

Brielle considered a suitable reply. It was difficult to decide whether she should bombard him with excuses of why she was where she shouldn't be, or to tell him to piss off because he was looking her up and down with an expression that she didn't find appropriate.

He continued checking her out. "The fair maiden doesn't have a name?"

"The fair maiden doesn't give names to sleazy men," she said matter-of-factly. He was like the men she'd sometimes hear when passing through the market when sneaking out.

His smile grew wider as his eyes focused on hers. "Forgive me for being overly enthusiastic." He made a small flourish of his hand. "I'm not usually this. . . sleazy. The travel had been long, and too few women were available. The one I was with didn't want to talk, so you can imagine the abuse I've been through going here."

Her interest was renewed. "You're a foreigner?"

"Precisely." His bow was overly emphasized, his nose almost touching his knees. "My name is Xander. I'm at your beck or call, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Preferably at night. Free of charge for someone as enchanting as you."

She wrinkled her nose. Her father, both real and fake, had tried to shield her from such people. One was intentional, while the other was a result of the egotistic need to keep her by his side. It hasn't been a week since she was in this place, but already she'd been meeting a lot of people.

On that note, Brielle whipped her head over her shoulder. Mei hadn't been dragged with her to the hallway. "Have you seen the woman who was with me?"

Xander straightened and shook his head. "I believe I did not. Two women are always better than one. I would have noticed her, especially if she looked as great as the one standing before me."

Brielle placed a palm on his hard chest, then pushed him away. She took a peek on the hallway they vacated but didn't see traces of Mei. Should she be worried? But if the woman wasn't here, she must have seen Xander and thought it best to retreat. Yes, that must have been what happened. Brielle looked back at him suspiciously. "What Sector are you from? Why did you come here?"

His eyes twinkled. "I only share secrets between sheets, I'm afraid."

He drew closer, and she smelled freshly cut grass, coupled with sweat and the sun from him. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't as attractive as Talin's scent. Hers had been exotic, as if different flower extracts had been used as a perfume. Brielle hadn't had time to savor it before, given that her defender had only caused her reason for avoidance. Yet now that she wasn't present, the thought of it made Brielle lighthearted, like she'd discovered something forbidden about her partner.

Seeing her expression, Xander leaned away. "Ahh, it seems we have a problem," he said.

"A problem?"

"Yes." He raised his index finger. "I readily assumed that you were single, but apparently, you're not. Only a man can put that kind of smile on a woman's face."

She didn't realize that her lips were quirked up. She quickly erased it with a frown. "You're mistaken. It's not a man."

"Fascinating," he remarked. "Even better because it's a woman."

Brielle folded her arms defensively in front of her. He was taking it all wrong. And the more their conversation progressed without her learning the truth, the less time she'd have for the correct information. Someone could walk on them any minute.

"We're getting too far from the topic," she said. "What Sector are you from, and why are you here?"

Xander pouted. "The way you talk, it's like you're not afraid of me. Do I really have that effect on women? Am I really this cursed to be so charming that everyone runs towards me instead of away?"

Was this how men from other places think? If so, she wasn't scared, but exasperated. "Just answer my questions."

Xander tilted his head to the side, deliberating. After a few, he lifted both hands in surrender. "Okay, you got me. There's no reason to keep this from you anyway. I'm from a land far away. Do you want to know where?" When she nodded, he coaxed a finger, making her lean closer. "Ready?" His voice lowered to a murmur. "I live in a bottle, for I am a magical genie sent to grant your wish."

Brielle's face reddened. He'd made a fool of her. A genie in a bottle? Did he think she was five?

She was about to stomp on his foot when another person spoke. "The reason why he came here is to kill you." Talin's face was smooth as glass and cold as ice when she entered their conversation space. "You shouldn't trust him. He will stab you nice and easy as soon as you turn your back."

Xander's lazy smile was back. He followed Talin with his eyes with apt interest. "And who's this?" he said. "Another magnificent woman."

"Your executioner," she stated simply.

Brielle looked from one defender to another. Both had locked eyes, waging a silent one-way communication that she wasn't privy to. Wanting to be let in, she asked Talin, "Are you saying it's you I should trust?"

Her defender broke eye contact with Xander to give her a dry look. "I never said that either."

Xander chuckled under his breath at their expense. "You don't even like each other," he said. It was merely a stated observation on his part for the small display that he'd seen, but it was scary how accurate he was. "Don't you think that will become a problem for the contest? You do have to defend your sodales to win."

Talin's back was stiff. It was stiff when she spun to him. It was stiff when she stalked his direction. Xander barely winked, waiting for her move. She stopped in front of him, eyes as deadly as any animal described in books. "Nobody touches her," Talin whispered.

His smile was full of humor. "Except you?"

"She's mine to kill when the time comes. Not a moment before."

A chill rose on Brielle's chest because of those words, because of the conviction it was stated. It didn't hang in the air but was carved in unbreakable stone. And the very woman who made such threats glanced at her and said, "Follow me back to our room. It's where you're safest."

Xander gave her a pitying smile. She wanted to smile too, or laugh, or cry, because there was no way out of this predicament. No way but to follow Talin.

Brielle was a woman with questions. Why was her father's work displayed on Vincent's meeting room? Where did Mei run off to, and would she ever see her friend again? What Sector did Xander belong to? Would he have the heart to end her life when push comes to shove?

Because she couldn't answer those, not now, she diverted her attention to the one who could. "Why do you want to kill me?" she asked Talin. They were still walking in the hallway, presumably back to their room. She was lugging behind like a small kid lost in a maze, which the place really was, if one would pause to think about it.

The defender was mum.

"I didn't do a single thing to earn your ire. Can't we talk this through?"

"There is nothing to talk about. You are your father's daughter."

"I am just his slave. You saw my scars." She went to step with Talin so she could gaze at the side of the defender's face, a dagger disguised as a flower.

"I don't know what I saw, or what you want me to believe. Still your mouth. You don't want me to lose patience with you." They continued along the corridor.

"Why didn't you choose your own sodales?" Brielle said. She was going to force the answer, whether or not Talin wanted to.

"Your mouth is going to get you hurt."

"Why did you agree to this arrangement? If you hate me so much, you could have fought for a different partner. You are our Sector's defender. It's your right to demand it."

"Enough!"

Talin's cheeks were dark, so dark that all her blood could have been concentrated there. Her hands were shaking, fingers digging on her palm. With teeth clenched and her eyes boiling of hate, Brielle only waited for the moment to be struck on her lips, or where Vincent's anger usually fell, on her torso and back.

"We will not talk of this again, and you're not allowed to pretend that you're innocent," Talin spat. "You're a ghost, so you will be treated as one from now on." She pointed behind Brielle. "Go inside."

They'd reach their bedroom in the littlest time possible. The door was ajar just as it had been left, so Brielle took hold of the handle and swung it without entering the code. Her hands were trembling as she did so, a small confirmation that she was shaken by Talin.

Back inside, she stood on the center, not sure how to continue. She'd ruined her chances of making amends or asking for blank slates. Talin was beyond exchanges of words. She'd brought her own ruin.

It wasn't the first time that she'd felt horrible over the years. Vincent had his fair share of contributions. When she was feeling sad or disturbed, or after a heavy whipping, Brielle made it a habit to take a bath. Having nothing better to do for the time being, she left Talin who positioned herself on the sofa, and went directly for the bathroom. It was a sorry excuse of an escape, but at least a door was going to be between them.

The bathroom was as grand as the ones outside it, and was furnished with supplies. The walls were light blue, and the sink was white as her skin. A mirror hang above it, which Brielle passed on her way to the bathtub- a bowl-shaped fixture that could admit two people if they wanted to share the space.

She didn't want to imagine it, not when she was removing her clothes, how anyone would think of squeezing her and Talin in that tub. The other girl would no sooner get in and drown her beneath the bubbles.

Brielle opened the faucet and plucked a soap from the bunch provided in the basket near the sink. The bathroom smelled of rosemary and sage, instilling a calm on her. She had only but to wait a minute or so before the tub was filled with water and bubbles, before she dipped her right foot in, testing its temperature. The concoction was heavenly. She went the rest of the way in and sighed.

She must have dozed off for more than she should because the water was cold when her lids fluttered open. The bubbles were nearly gone, and though the aromatic scent still lingered in the air, another smell was beginning to replace them, smoke from burning wood. Burning firewood. Her eyes enlarged. Talin couldn't have.

She leaped from the tub, sprinkling water all over the pristine floor. A minor detail compared to her dilemma. Brielle almost slipped on the tile, but she managed to right herself by latching on to the sink. Then she ran.

"You're going to burn us alive!" she screamed when the door was pried open.

Talin looked up at her, then down, and up again. Brielle found the error of her ways, was forced to slam the door, her breaths quickening. She grabbed a towel from the rack, wrapped it against herself, and strode out again, ignoring the flushing on her neck.

The collected firewood's weren't tall, yet large enough in number that a fire could go on for hours when nurtured right. It had been started recently. It wasn't a full-scale blaze, but a smaller version that could still be thwarted by fluffing it out with a stomp of her foot. It was idiotic to do that, but Brielle was panicking.

"Ouch, ouch," she groaned. It wasn't that damaging, but it still stung. She swiveled to Talin when she was sure that all the fire was out. The defender had not said a thing and was sitting there beside the broken splinters of wood in the middle of the kitchen. "Why do you have to be so barbaric? You could have killed us both even before The Offering. That's so irresponsible."

Talin was unusually quiet while staring at her black boots. In a short span of time, they'd exchanged places from being reproachful to the one under the hot seat.

"We're trapped in here when you closed the door, and we don't know when's the next time it will open, or if they'll be able to stop the fire on time. I don't want to be cooked to cinders," Brielle said.

"I was hungry."

"What?"

"I was hungry," Talin murmured.

Brielle exhaled a breath. She wanted to continue being mad. It was the one emotion that was giving her the courage to speak like this to the girl who promised to slay her. But somehow, she couldn't. She remembered what Talin said about knowing just a name and nothing more about her. Of wondering why she resorted to firewood instead of the stove. Why the defender was acting like this.

"You should have told me," Brielle said in a calmer voice. "I would have cooked anything for you." Talin raised a questioning brow at this kindness, and Brielle turned her back. "Not everyone is as cruel is you. Perhaps you should keep that in mind before you pierce me with your dagger."

After drying herself and dressing on new clothes provided in the bathroom, Brielle went back to the kitchen. Stacks of meat were available in the fridge, as with fish and chicken. She chose the former and set on to work on a recipe. The rest of the ingredients she needed were on the cupboards above the counters. She was adept in cooking. The books taught her how. In under an hour, she placed two plates on the dining table, one for her and Talin.

"Eat before it gets cold," she said. Talin didn't move from the floor. She'd been sitting there as long as Brielle had been cooking. "I'm not feeding you, okay? That's asking for too much."

The defender's eyes raised to her. "I don't eat there."

"Huh?" Brielle glanced back to the table. A chair was already missing, thanks to Talin and her firewood, but another three were still available. "What do you mean?"

Talin shook her head stubbornly. "I don't eat there," she said.

Brielle massaged her temple. She didn't eat where? On the table? Goodness, Talin was something else. Wanting to avoid another bout of argument, she took a plate and handed it to the defender's waiting hands. Her own stomach clenched its agony. She was hungry too, and the cooking tortured her to a degree. "If you don't mind, I'll eat now."

She went behind the table and chose a chair to sit into. Her fingers were weakened with hunger, but she managed to have a bite without the spoon falling. It was an elixir, a medicine. The food she cooked was so good that she swallowed one after the other.

In the middle of her meal, when her insides weren't twisting and killing her with pain anymore, Brielle stole a look at Talin. The defender hadn't used the utensils she included on the plate, but was eating with bare hands. That was one way to do it, but why did she have a feeling that the woman was not as they said in rumors? Talin wasn't pampered with slaves when outside the training. She wasn't babied by anyone. She wasn't what they said she'd be. She'd been mean so far, Brielle knew that. But was it possible that even that was a lie?