Was that just a normal gesture for him? Did I read too much meaning into it?
“I have never been saluted before, definitely not by a soldier.” Kenzo’s voice cut through the silence, shifting my attention to him.
“I hope you realise it isn’t you they’re saluting but their Marshal,” I corrected, my soft chuckle filling the car despite the sudden dark cloud I could see covering my sky.
“Doesn’t matter.” Kenzo shrugged indifferently, either clueless of the atmosphere of the backseat, or just pretending to not notice. “I’m sitting in the car with the Marshal. I am an important person, too.”
“Whatever.” I shook my head, returning my gaze to the window.
A heavy, rumbling sound echoed, like an earthquake coming, as the large iron gate before us began to pull open, revealing a driveway that seemed to go on for miles, each side anchored with lush green leaves and trees of different kinds.
“Your house is…very elegant,” I murmured, my forehead pressing against the tinted window as my mind spiralled. “Like a modern castle.”
I was a girl who lived in a house that was almost like a cabin in the woods compared to this; a palace sprawling across hundreds of acres.
With comparison came the cruel realisation; we were truly worlds apart.
Men like him didn’t belong with girls like me. I should have listened to Kenzo and moved on…or just settled for Rowan. Rowan McRae was a simple man with a simple dream. And I was a simple girl with a simple dream too. We would have made a rather perfect match.
Why was it that when I was finally falling hard, I fell for a man beyond my reach?
The car drove for nearly miles until the house came into view fully. My eyes rested on the estate as its glass walls reflected the sinking sun. The grandeur began to mock me. And all of a sudden, I felt small, insignificant.
Around the property, soldiers stood at attention. Some were wearing the complete army uniform, like the ones that usually followed him around. And some were in black T-shirts and green cargo pants…all armed. Back in Braemont, they were usually never more than two, except for the time I followed him to his guesthouse and they were about six or thereabout. But now, they were in hundreds of numbers, spreading across the expanse of land, all built for war, armed, ready to take out an enemy without hesitation.
I was petrified. It felt like I walked into an army barrack. Soldiers didn’t really scare me. But when they were in numbers like this, all cold, all armed, they did make me shiver. One wrong move and a bullet could go flying into my skull indeed.
They were impatient and heartless.
“Anytime soon?”
Callan’s cold voice startled me. He was by my door, holding it open. I glanced around and found that everyone had stepped out except me.
“Oh, sorry.” My cheeks were flushed as I manoeuvred myself out of the car, almost crashing into Callan’s chest. But he didn’t move, his presence looming over me, body heat ghosting over my skin.
“Where’s Kenz–” I was asking until my eyes fell on him at the other side, phone held up as he tried to capture the water fountain which sat in the middle of the land. It was a rather unusual sight for me–the fountain; a ginormous statue of a python, or was it a cobra? Had its mouth open, fangs out as crystal water poured out into the well.
“Let’s go,” Callan commanded, his voice still lacking the warmth and kindness I remembered.
He moved ahead of me, soldiers in front him, countless at the back of me, trapping me in the middle, their steps powerful and precise.
Then Kenzo appeared beside me just at the right time, his hand slipping into mine, squeezing it gently.
“This place is like so huge, right?” I murmured, more wistful than with awe as my gaze travelled as far as the peak of the building, which could easily be about forty or forty-five feet tall.
My voice felt too small here, too weak. All of a sudden, poverty had a smell; a convoluted suffocating thing, clinging to me like a second skin.
The echo of heavy boots continued to fall behind us steadily as we headed to the grand entrance which loomed ahead. Arriving, the massive oak door swung open, a flood of warm, golden light spilling out, illuminating the sleek elegance of the manor.
We stepped into the palatial living room and the polished floor stretched endlessly, reflecting the glow of the chandelier that cast geometric shadows across the room.
My mouth opened and I couldn’t seem to shut it for minutes. I had never seen a place like this before, not even in a movie. Every inch of the space was curated; crisp white walls, muted grays, abstract paintings that breathed color into the vastness. Unspoken elegance wove into every corner as the air hummed with quiet wealth. I absolutely did not belong here…not in this lifetime, I feared. My fingers twitched as I fought the urge to turn around. To flee.
“Do make yourselves comfortable,” Callan spoke, his voice snapping me out of my thoughts. “Your rooms are being prepared. In the meantime, Mr. Yulia over here…” He turned to the man dressed like a butler, his greying hair combed back neatly. “Will attend to your needs. I assume you must be hungry. Just tell him whatever you want and he’ll set it up for you.”
His gaze flickered between Kenzo and me, eyes resting briefly on our joint hands, and I could swear I saw his jaw tick very lightly. Then he looked away, lifting his hand and glancing at his watch.
“Do you want to eat anything?” I asked Kenzo, who was busy looking at everything and trying to take pictures.
