He begins again a few moments later, velvet lacing his words, “Such an untrusting creature you are.”
I stifle a snicker and swallow down any retort. He’s being too respectful for a man of his making. It causes my suspicion to grow. My brain begins to turn over what he could possibly want with me, and if he truly just came in to check on me.
“What do you want, Devourer?” Exhaustion eats at my patience.
He pulls his outstretched hand back as if it had been slapped. His eyes return to their dull pale green and any emotion on his face is wiped clean.
He clears his throat and begins, “You’re my responsibility as long as you’re here. I care about the duty in which I’ve beenentrusted with. Keeping you safe until my king would otherwise command it.”
I look past The Devourer and wrestle thoughts of escaping and running past him. He’s bigger than I, and even though I’ve trained with Caym extensively, I know I’m no match for him when he is easily three heads taller than I and built like an ox.
I turn on my heel away from the unwelcomed guest and let my words slip freely, not caring enough to check my tone with the man even though I should.
“Do you enjoy it? The killing?” Perhaps I’ve spoken too boldly.
He doesn’t respond. At least not right away.
“I’m good at it. It’s my nature.” He says this matter of factly, the words threaded with warning.
I scoff, apparently emboldened by my looming death. “Ahh. There it is. The duty bound monster who is nothing more than a soldier with his head down.” Now that is too bold I chide myself.
His voice lowers, filling with gravel. The tone sends shivers down my spine as he replies, “We all have a monstrous nature at our core, but it doesn’t mean we enjoy it.”
I turn to face him—to garner the meaning I can’t decipher in his words. They’re strange coming from someone in his position.
His eyes seem to have gotten deeper, no longer the lifeless green but a rich emerald.
“I don’t enjoy it, and I don’t loathe it. But it’s what my king asks of me so I am indifferent to it.”
His confession stops me in my tracks.
Indifference is perhaps the biggest scourge on this land. It’s one of the reasons we’re in this state of ruin; people simply stopped caring when their neighbors were seized and taken. It quickly turned into something far more sinister when our brethren closed their eyes because the lie was easier to believe than the truth right in front of them.
I raise my chin until my nose points upwards. I can’t hide my accusatory tone when I ask, “So you’re detached from it then. From the cries and screams?”
Swallowing down my growing annoyance, unsure if I want to hear, I’m met by the sound of shuffling fabric. It’s my only answer.
A snicker escapes as I return my gaze to him. He’s begun to recede back towards the doorframe.
“Well?” I hiss and he stops just short of the door.
His brow furrows and his finger begins tapping against his leg rhythmically. Slowly his lips unlock and he answers, “I’ve grown accustomed to it and accept it for what it is, the will of King Euron whom I serve, and will serve for my entire life.”
My tone hardens, “What devotion you have.” Venom drips from my lips.
“Something like that I guess. And what of you, Alora Viren?”
Unsure of how to answer, I look to the small hole I’ve chiseled, as if I can escape this question.
“What of me?” I spit my question back, ready to end our conversation.
The gravel in his voice returns as he raises it. He retorts, “What do you do?”
I don’t owe him anything, much less something so intimate. Even so, he’s provoking. I want to prove to him that there’s more to us than duty and servitude.
I begin, “I enjoy riding in the night air on my horse Dahla. I used to enjoy reading but it no longer suits me,” clearing my throat, I continue, “I enjoy having opinions, and I love to sit beneath the moons and watch them rise and fall in the sky along with a crisp breeze and a blanket.”
I continue to bore my gaze into the plaster, willing myself to not look at The Devourer.
