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“Oh, have you heard from Cora, that slut? Are you jealous?” His voice went lower, attempting to sound like a lover. He might have sounded seductive to someone else, but not to me. I did not anticipate his approach. He tackled me into an embrace, his face about to go down on me. I pushed as hard as I could, but he was strong. Stronger than he looked.
“Stop it, Ari! Stop it right now.”
“Or what? Will you tell Metheus? He knows about your past. You are not as pure as you may pretend now.”
“I never pretended to be pure,” I said through gritted teeth, continuing to struggle in his arms.
“Then, stop pretending now.”
“ Stop it. Stop it!”
His mouth tried to meet mine, but I moved my face so that it made contact with my cheek instead. I could smell wine. Lots of it. He did not heed my warning, not through my voice and not the warmth of my skin. The heat. I screamed as loud as I could. He was thrown back on the grass, but it was too late. His left cheek was burning, smoke coming out of it. It was surreal. I stood there, frozen solid with disbelief.
It happened again. I did not mean for it to happen, but he made me. Oh, yes, he made me angry. Still yelling, he took off his coat and wrapped it around his face. Then, he started rolling on the grass, still screaming in agony.
“What is going on?” Francilia cried as she returned to the maze. To her horror, she saw Ari rolling on the ground, kicking his legs.
“I burned his face, Francilia,” I said, still stunned.
The screaming stopped for a little while, and I feared that I must have killed him. Then, he rose to his feet, the tunic dropping to the grass. His face looked like half of it would be ruined forever. Scarred. If I had not had an enemy before the attack, I knew that I had just made one for life.
