Page 6

It’s the sound of shuffling outside the tent that stirs me awake. Early morning light seeps in through the dark fabric. I stiffen, remembering the predicament I’ve been put in. Taking care not to make much movement, I twist my head back to see if she’s still here.

Shit.

Still here.

But she’s asleep .

This is it. My chance. Morin can’t force me to bring her with me. Carefully untangling myself from the bed, I tug my clothes off the dresser, shuffle them on in a hurry, before swiping my boots off the floor. My vision blurs, alcohol from last night still very much not made its way out of my system. My fingers fumble my boots and one slips, hitting the floor with a thunderous thud.

Fuck.

The nought stirs with a groan. No, no-no-no. Go back to sleep. She sits up in the bed, blinking and rubbing her eyes looking even more ridiculously innocent in her sleepy state. Blinking at me some more, as she eyes the one boot still in my hand. Caught red-handed.

Her face suddenly colors and she reaches up to run her hands over her cheeks, her nose, her forehead as if she can’t believe they’re bare of chains.

My fingers trace the back of my neck with indecision. If I don’t take her will Morin see fit to bring her along with the Masks? And then there’s no telling what will happen to her. I mash a knuckle into my cheek. Agh.

I have to talk her father into taking her back.

Swiping her awful gown off the floor, I toss it at her. “Come on. Get ready. I gotta go or else I’ll be stuck with the whole fucking cavalry.”

She carefully maneuvers the dress on without getting up from the bed and I take to stuffing and lacing my boots on. By the time I’m finished, she’s settled in the corner of the tent, digging into a bag that must’ve been brought in for her. This better not take all day.

She suddenly yelps and flings something. The thing in question thuds down to the floor in front of my feet. I glance down to find the corpse of a cat, so stiff you can tell it’s been dead for a long time.

“I…I did not bring that,” she gasps.

Fucking shades. It takes me a few seconds to piece it together. It’s a poor attempt at old magic. She shrinks as I start forward. Whisking the bag away, I shake the contents out onto the floor. Out falls several large glass bottles, some type of skull—possibly that of a horse, a single shoe that's seen better days. On closer inspection the bottles appear to be filled with bits of hair and fingernail clippings. Gross. Very poor attempts at old magic I’m sure they think will ward me away or something.

“She’s…very old.”

“This shit does nothing to me.”

“I was hoping she packed me a hairbrush,” she says weakly.

That’s almost… funny . It only gets a soft snort of me in my irritated state but even that leaves me surprised…and shortly irritated again. Don’t be funny. I don’t like you, I think, narrowing a glare at her as I point a finger up and down. “Any other tricks on you, nought?”

“No,” she says quickly. A little too quickly.

My eyes flick down to the pockets on her gown. Even if they’ve been wise enough to send her with some kind of weapon it won’t do her any good. And besides, I’m going to talk her father into taking her back. Hopefully, if he hasn’t left yet…we need to go.

“Come nought.” I yank back the fabric opening, squinting as I flash the light of day into the tent. I glance back to see her still frozen in her tracks.

Her eyes are veering over toward where I’ve left the strange chained contraption on the dresser. Dear Gods. “Please don’t tell me you want me to put that thing back on you?”

Her lips part and subsequently shut with indecision before she suddenly snaps, “You’re not putting it back on me!”

I throw up my hands with incredulity. “You think I want to put that back on you?”

She falters. “I…I don’t know but I’m telling you you’re not,” she says crossing her arms over her chest like a defiant, bratty child.

“Wait…are you supposed to put it back on?”

“Does it really matter?”

“I don’t know. Does it?”

She only glowers at me.

“Well, come the fuck on then,” I bark.

She takes two steps forward and halts again. “So, you’re not going to put it back on me?”

“Do you want me to put it back on you?”

“No?”

“Good.”

“Good,” she repeats.

I stride out of the tent. “Wait,” she calls. “I need to speak to my—“ She breaks off, as she appears beside me and finds her father’s furious face already pointing at her. “Father,” she says quietly.

Ugh, and so do I.

Do I so not want to deal with that fucking asshole again.

The nought soldiers peer in our direction and suddenly turn away with gasps of shock and derision. More murmurs and noises of dissent work over them.

“So, you were…supposed to put that back on.” Fuck, is he going to take her back now? “Go on then,” I say, waving her off. “I’ll come for you.”

I head in the direction I’ve left Epona tethered to a tree. I mean I could totally just leave now. Force her father to take her back whether he wants to or not.

It’s not my problem. But what if they don’t take her back? And then the Masks get a hold of her…and she’s so small and defenseless. I let out another growl. No, I have to fucking convince him to take her back. Are they going to like…punish her for not putting that thing back on?

Agh, fuck these freaky fucking cult of noughts.

I grab Epona’s reins and lead her back to where I’ve left them, rehearsing what I’ll say in my head. Samore won’t be safe for her. No one will ever accept a nought. They’ll probably try to murder her honestly. It’d be better if you just…return her home. The alliance can still happen. This marriage part to seal the deal however is really so unnecessary.

The conversation between her and her father grows visibly heated as I gain closer. That’s not a good sign…

The little nought’s face suddenly morphs when she sees me approach, eyes lighting up like I’m her favorite person in the world. She beams at me, and I stagger slightly, pace slowing in utter befuddlement.

“Oh, there you are,” she says enthusiastically, reaching out a hand to lay it against my arm. My eyes narrow as I stare down at her small, delicate fingers. What the fuck is that? What’s she doing?

She turns her head to where her face is only visible to me and widens her eyes with a pleading look. She’s asking me to…she’s asking me to play along. She’s trying to use me…to threaten him.

Gods fucking dammit.

How am I supposed to make him take her back when she’s looking at me like that? Internally, I’m fumbling, crumbling, struggling to find a way out. Somewhere in the back of my mind springs the thought, at least she’s cute .

No, that makes it worse. Not better.

I glance over at King Nought and he’s still looking at her, eyes blazing like he’s seconds from reaching out and strangling her.

Oh, just fuck this stupid fucking asshole.