“What are you doing?” Soren seethes. “Keep moving.”
I allow myself to be dragged along besides him, lost in the thought that had dawned on me unexpectedly.
This spectacle could be my parents, returning from their long trip, wanting to make us a family again.
By the time we arrive at the guard’s headquarters, the entire fantasy isalready built up in my head. The door is going to open, and I’m going to see my mom and dad, their arms wide open in greeting. I’d run over to them and collapse into their embrace, sobbing, for at last we’d be together again. They would take care of their debt themselves and I’d be finally free.
That dream is shattered as soon as Soren leads me into what I’m guessing is the overseer’s office. An empty office, parents nowhere to be found.
It was a nice dream, though, one I hadn’t thought about in some time. It used to be on replay in my mind when I first arrived here, but the longer I stayed, the more distant that dream became.
“Wait here, and don’t move,” the overseer orders gruffly. He pulls me by my shoulders to stand in a corner of the room opposite the door, squeezing my shoulders painfully before releasing his hold. “Don’t open your mouth to speak and this will all be over.”
As if that doesn’t cause a cold chill to trickle through my body.
I watch curiously as the overseer goes over to a door behind his desk that I didn’t notice at first. He knocks once.
“Clover has been obtained for you, sir.” The doorknob turns slowly, and a panic I don’t realize I was holding in starts to come to the surface. Is it someone worse than the overseer? Is it actually my parents behind that door?
I watch as the door slowly opens, revealing a well dressed man, only slightly older than myself. I immediately notice the finery of his clothing, the high-waisted creaseless pants tucked into black boots polished so much that I could see the reflection of the office in them. He wears a double-breasted coat, in the bright goldenrod and cobalt blue colors of Ashven, sword sheathed on his hip.
He traveled all this way to the desert and yet I can’t spot a single grain of sand on any of his clothing. When I raise my eyes to his face, I take in the chiseled, shaved jawline, and notice the blond hair that waves slightly in front of his face, combed to perfection. But it’s not until I meet his sapphire eyes that I make an inaudible gasp. I have never seen someone as regal, as powerful, or as handsome as him. He looks like the sun himself in this office, all golden locks and radiating strength. A King amongst toy soldiers.
The overseer comes over and shoves me towards the man as the man enters the room gracefully, with no haste, one foot in front of the other.
“Clover, this is the King’s lead Hunter. He’s requested your help in one of his hunts.” I must hit him with a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ sort of expression because the overseer leans in to sternly whisper in my ear. “He’s paid off your debt in return. So be a good girl and do what he says.”
I continue to stare at the pools of blue in the Hunter’s eyes as the corners of his mouth lift slightly, a subtle warmth settling over his expression.
Yep. Definitely worse than the overseer.
Chapter 2
Callum
Ididn’t envision that there would be this much fanfare in asking a woman for help, yet here we are. Coming to the labor camp seemed like an easy ordeal in my head, but the execution is proving to be more difficult. Hanson had told me as much, but I ignored him.
The labor camps are not prisons, so seeing the two guards and the overseer accompanying Clover took me by surprise. Unless she hadn’t wanted to come? I don’t know how much, if any, the overseer told her. He whispered something into her ear, and based on her tense posture, I’m starting to worry that she won’t help me.
Clover has not stopped staring at me since the overseer introduced me, her gaze particularly scrutinizing. Her large sun hat casts a shadow over her face, and I’m unnerved that I can’t see her eyes clearly despite the weight of her heavy glare. Clover is also caked in so much sand and grit that I can’t tell what color her tunic and breeches are supposed to be. No matter the color, the fabric hangs loose off her frame. Either the clothing is very oversized or she hasn’t eaten well in her years here. Or both. They could have at least allowed her to clean herself up before bringing her to me; my urgency must have shown through my words despite my best attempt.
She stays silent, continuing her unnerving stare, and I take the opportunity to break the ice.
“I’m Callum,” I greet, bowing low to her, hoping to put her at ease. Or at least make her comfortable enough that she doesn’t think I’m going to hurt her. “I’m hunting for a very powerful relic for King Corvin, and I’m told that you’ve been the most successful in all of the labor camps - that you’ve been able to find the most relics.”
“I’ve been here fortenyears. Probability would dictate that I’ve found the most,” she scoffs.
I don’t know what I expected her to respond, but it definitely wasn’t that.
Clover cocks her head, her large sun hat moving slightly, and crossesher arms.
“I apologize for her, sir,” the overseer interrupts, throwing daggers her way. “She’s usually not this…mouthy.” His hand hovers over his sword’s pommel in a way that makes my hand twitch dangerously for mine.
The taller guard coughs into his hand, and I only need to catch a few words to know it’s a lewd comment about Clover’s mouth. To her credit, she doesn’t flinch or react to him, and if I could have seen her face more clearly, I would have bet any amount of gold that she was rolling her eyes.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my ever growing irritation. I don’t have time for this. The King is expecting me to provide him with some evidence of progress in a fortnight, and the trek to the desert, to the literal middle of nowhere, has proven longer than expected. It would take at least a couple more days before we could return to the palace and regroup, so any additional hold up is not feasible.
“Leave us.” My words echo in the room as no one moves.
