I need a drink. Now.
Arina
Afew days of rest, hot food, and that tea have me feeling almost back to normal. I could no longer sit stewing over my father’s lies in the deafening solitude of my chamber, so I begged Raiden to take me for a walk. To my surprise, he relented quite easily.
If only he would give me back my fucking dagger.
Hundreds of fae bustle about in the main hub of the Underground. A sunken area with many carved-out paths and ramps weaving deeper into the stone and dirt. It’s an entire town. A whole civilization. Not just rebel warriors, but women and children and even some older fae.
It’s as though they are all buzzing around me, making me feel dizzy and useless.
I’ve had too much time to ruminate on my next steps. If I run, they will find me. Besides, this place is a fucking maze. I’d be caught before even making it to the surface.
My only choice right now is to stay. I am uniquely positioned to infiltrate the Rhiza. Something no Lukasian soldier has been successful in, as far as I know.
Get them to trust me. Learn their ways. Tear them apart from the inside. And if I can’t do that, maybe I can at least bide my time until I have a better understanding of these damned tunnels. They have to let me up to the surface, eventually.
“Give me something to do,” I demand as we turn down a particularly crowded tunnel that smells heavenly. I’m going mad with so little to do, and I think I might die from boredom if I have to spend any more time in my room.
Raiden raises a dark brow at me, and his golden eyes dance with mischief.
Without speaking a word, he leads me just a few steps until we stop before a large wooden door, similar to the one outside the throne room, and he holds a hand up to me.
“You will not take your frustrations out on them. They’ve done nothing to you, and if you want a job to keep you busy, this will be the safest place for you.” It’s like he’s thought this through. Interesting.
“I didn’t intend to speak to anyone, anyway,” I snap. “I am capable of keeping my mouth shut.”
His eyes narrow to slits. “I didn’t say to keep your mouth shut. I was requesting you treat my friends with respect.”
The door swings open, and a light-haired male who can’t yet be of age startles at the sight of us. “Pardon, sir. May I get by?” he stammers to Raiden who backs away, leaving space for the boy to pass.
I move to enter the room, but Raiden’s arm blocks the door. The scent of fresh baked bread and the clattering of dishes reachme, pulling me in. But his stupid, muscular arm tenses, and I swear there’s a snarl waiting to be released from his throat.
“Fine,” I say.
“Fine?”
“I will be the epitome of respect.”
“Good.” He raises his arm for me to pass.
As suspected, the room is a massive kitchen. A crew of fae is assembling baskets of bread, root vegetables, and glass jars filled with different soups or jams. They talk and smile as they work, and I can’t remember the last time I saw such simple joy.
Raiden addresses one of the gray-haired females. “Breesha, this is Arina. She’s here to help.”
Breesha barely looks up from her chopping board.
“Thanks, Sir Raiden. We could use the extra set of hands, that’s for sure.” She wipes her hands on her apron and shuffles quickly over to us.
“Nice to meetchya, Arina.” She holds her hand out to me, and I’m shocked at how tolerant she is. Maybe she doesn’t know who I am. Maybe she wasn’t in the throne room.
I turn my head to look at Raiden, as if I’m asking his permission to touch her. He elbows me, forcing me forward as I mumble a greeting and gently shake her hand.
“Right. Well, what’re ya waitin’ for? Grab a basket. Fill it up. We’ve much to do, and I don’t have time to be coddlin’ the likes of you.” Breesha dismisses me to find a place in the assembly line.
I rush to obey, thankful for something mindless to keep my hands busy.
“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Raiden says. “Try to stay out of trouble?”
