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He scoffs. “What kind of deal?”
“My protection for some of my assets, if I am the true heir, it should be a perfect idea.”
“No,” he shakes his head. “That’ll make it seem like you’re willing to give away your possessions, which will only bring more trouble.”
We sit in silence for a moment as I think of his eyes transfixed on mine a moment ago. I questioned why my heart sank when he answered he was just following orders … I wondered why I wanted him to kiss me.
He shoots up from the fireplace mantle and extends a hand to me. “Come on. I know what we can do.”
We walk out of Krett tower and cross the damp, cold ground as lightning rumbles across the sky. There is nothing but thick clouds promising an electric storm, but there’s no feeling of rain in the air.
We approach a large mansion on the border of a field … Systorak nods to the guards, who let us in immediately without a password.
The mansion is exquisite, yet not a home. As I walk along the grand hallway, I notice doors lining the sides, and each has a dutiful guard blocking the entrance into them. We walk for what seems like half an hour before reaching door 118.
The guard makes no eye contact with Systorak until he mutters something in a foreign language, I assume his. The guard nods and steps aside, leaving Systorak to open the door and enter, with me trailing behind.
We walk in, and I see mounds and piles of gold coins stacked to the ceiling. My mouth drops at witnessing this sort of wealth. I turn to him, watching him close the door.
“How is this going to keep me safe?” I ask, reeling from the shock of his fortune.
“We’re going to hire guards,” he claims proudly.
I turn to the coins and marvel at the number of them once more. The thought crosses my mind of stealing some, but I hold back on the wrong intention.
He walked to collect what looked like two hundred coins in a large red sack that was laying by the front door. Once he had hoisted it over his shoulder, we walked out of the treasury, bid the guard goodbye, and returned to our adventure.
I find myself wondering why these towers aren’t all built into one. It seems like a waste of time to continuously travel through this field to reach various buildings. Maybe demons aren’t as organized as I had pictured them.
We eventually come across a large valley filled with tents and torches illuminating crowds of demons. He stops briefly, setting the bag down and stretching his shoulder.
“What is this?” I ask, lifting my chin to the valley.
“This,” he begins, lifting the bag over his shoulder again, “is the recruiting grounds and a place where veterans train warriors and guards.”
“I feel like I shouldn’t be here,” I said nervously as we walked down the hill.
“You’ll be fine,” he assures me, nudging my shoulder. “Just stay close, kid.”
I roll my eyes …kid… what a term of endearment.
We weave and bob our way through the crowd, demons much more prominent than me bumping into me and grazing my shoulders. Systorak holds a hand out behind him, and I grab it nervously. If I lose him in this crowd, I may never find my way back to my room, or worse, I might get killed.
We approached a tent hosting an orc-like figure with wings and fangs. He seems preoccupied with polishing a large sword with a brass handle engraved with runes. I will say, out of all the warriors I’ve seen so far, Systorak is the most attractive.
“Jangran,” Systorak says, dropping the bag at his feet to shake the orc’s hand.
“Systorak,” the thing bellows in a deep, monotone voice.
“I have a favor to ask of you,” Systorak said confidently.
The monster looks at Systorak and then catches a glimpse of me behind him. I shudder under his gaze but stand tall, trying to keep my composure.
“What?” the thing asks skeptically.
“I require some extra guards for the heir,” Systorak motions to me.
The creature glances at me and then at his sword, polishing it fiercely. “No.”
