“Come on.” He reached his hand out like he was about to grab her arm and drag her to wherever it was he was taking her. But he didn’t.
Elora stayed in place. “Will you tell me your name?” she asked, crossing her arms. “Or are the wards barred from even knowing that?”
For a beat, silence stretched between them. Then the side of his mouth turned up in amusement. “Feisty,” he said, clearly entertained. “It’s Gerard. Captain of the Guard, if titles matter to you.”
Captain.Of course, he was someone important. It probably wasn’t the best idea to talk back. She couldn’t help it. The smug glint in his eyes made her want to wipe the smirk right off his face.
“And trust me, the wards know my name very well.” He winked at her, though if he were insinuating something, she didn’t get it. He moved closer, his hand wrapping around her bicep. “Let’s go, sweetheart.”
He tugged her towards the double door leading to the east wing. There was no resistance from her, although she most certainly didn’t like his presence being so close. He smelled faintly of cedarwood and dried herbs. It didn’t make sense. He was a guard, not an alchemist. It was the sort of scent that may have been comforting to her, but there was something far more rancid underneath. And it wasn’t the subtle scent of alcohol. She couldn’t place it; she just knew it felt wrong.
Gerard’s grip loosened on Elora’s arm as they traversed through the narrow corridors of the Institute, passing lecture halls and laboratories she had spent so much time in. She tried to not peer in, not let the happy memories of her studies fester, but she couldn’t help it.
They moved through a set of heavy double doors, entering a long hallway that looked eerily familiar. It was reminiscent of the student housing. Yet this place appeared even more stifling.
Gerard finally released her. They continued through the corridor until they reached a large room. Elora stepped through the doorway, her footsteps faltering as she took in the scene before her.This... isn’t what I expected.
She had braced for something grim. A dark, oppressive room with harsh stone walls, iron fixtures, and the weight of punishment lingering in the air. But no. The room carried a lived-in coziness. A fire in the hearth crackled, casting a sunset glow over the space. The walls, though stone, were broken up by shelves cluttered with mismatched mugs, dog-eared books, and small trinkets.
The room smelled like time itself, musty, with layers of dust and a faint odor of mildew rising from the upholstery. The aroma of old, sun-worn wood and cracked leather lingered, mingling with the faint sourness of age. Everything was secondhand. It made sense. While the chamber was homely, the wards were the lowest of the population within the Institute. She had seen how they are treated, and it wasn’t significantly different from a sofa with stains and rips, but not quite ready to be trashed.
But no one seemed to mind. A few wards lounged on the faded couches, legs draped over armrests, laughter bubbling up from a card game unfolding. The guards mingled freely with the wards. They shared drinks, exchanged jabs that were met with eye rolls and smirks rather than flinches. There was an ease here, a surprisingcamaraderie that blurred the lines she thought were carved deep between authority and subjugation.
Gerard’s presence caused an immediate stir. Several women looked up as they entered, their faces lighting up at the sight of him. Some of them swooned openly, giggling and batting their eyelashes as Gerard walked by. He smiled at them, his expression shifting into something charming.
“Gerard,” one woman purred, leaning against the back of her chair, using the backrest to push her cleavage up. “Back so soon? Missed us, did you?”
He flashed her a crooked grin. “You know I can’t stay away,” he said smoothly, his posture oozing with confidence.
The wards were laughing now, giggling like children in the presence of someone they adored. One guard glanced up from his card game, offering Gerard a knowing smirk. Even some of the male wards couldn’t keep their gazes off of Gerard and specifically, the way his slacks seemed a size too small.
Elora kept her voice low, afraid to draw too much attention as she leaned slightly toward him. “Why… why are they all acting like that?” she asked.
Gerard smirked, his eyes still scanning the room, enjoying the admiration as though he had earned it. “It’s simple,” he said, coolly. “Give the guards what they want, and they’ll make your life here a little better.”
She hesitated to ask, yet the words slipped out before she could stop them. “And… what is it they want?”
He leaned in closer. The warmth radiating from his body was impossible to ignore. “Sometimes it’s just someone to play cards with,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. “Sometimes, someoneto share their bed with.” The words sent nervous chills up and down her spine. “Depends on what kind of mood they’re in.”
He turned toward a ward on the other side of the room, a young woman a couple of years older than Elora. She sat near one window, twirling her golden hair as she read a book. Curled up in a large, threadbare chair, she seemed entirely unbothered by the stir of commotion around her, utterly absorbed in what she was reading.
“Amara!” Gerard called out to her, signaling with his hand to beckon her over.
The girl, Amara, looked up immediately, her expression blank, obedient. She stood and walked over, a finger between the pages of the book, keeping her place. Elora noticed the way her shoulders hunched slightly, as if she had learned to make herself smaller.
“This is Elora. I’m sure you remember her from the party, a dog on Thorn’s heel,” Gerard said with a satisfied smile, like he had just said something witty. Elora brushed off his words. She didn’t have the energy after everything that had already happened today to get upset.
“She’s yours now, Amara. Make sure she gets settled in.”
Amara nodded, not daring to look at Gerard as she mumbled, “Yes, sir.”
Gerard turned back to Elora, his sneer still firmly in place. “Do as she says, Elora. And remember, life here can be easy... if you want it to be.”
Gerard flashed one last smile to the other wards, then turned on his heel and sauntered back toward the door, his presence leaving a thick, uncomfortable silence in its wake. The others went back to their card games, their laughter quieting.
Amara seemed to loosen up once Gerard was gone, her shoulders relaxing as she gave Elora a warm, open smile. She tucked a straystrand of hair behind her ear and took a small step closer, her movements unhurried and reassuring.
“Let’s go,” she said. Her hand hovered, as if she was tempted to reach out, but she settled for a gentle nod instead. “I’ll show you your bunk.”
