Page 6 of A Kiss of Deception

After securing bread and a few bruised apples, I weave through the market once more. A group of street musicians catches my attention, their lively tune a stark contrast to my mood. For a moment, I let myself get lost in the melody, my feet tapping along almost of their own accord. It's a small reprieve, but a welcome one.

As I near our home, unease settles in my stomach. But then I see these stubborn wildflowers growing through the crack in the pavement. Their resilience sparks a strange hope in me. If they can thrive here, maybe I can too.

One day, I'll get us out of here, with or without Korrine's blessing. And maybe, just maybe, I'll look back on these days with the wisdom of survival rather than bitterness.

I pushopen the creaky door, muscles tensing in anticipation of Jarvil's usual barrage. Silence greets me instead. The musty air of our cramped hovel fills my lungs as I step inside.

"Jarvil?" The word comes out soft, half-hoping he won't hear. Silence. Good.

Relief washes over me, followed by guilt. I shouldn't be happy about his absence, but every moment without his looming presence is a blessing.

Jarvil's always been a storm of a man, unpredictable and destructive. The memory of last winter's solstice flashes through my mind. He'd stumbled home, reeking of cheap ale and fury.

"Where's the fuckin' money?" he'd bellowed. "You whores holdin' out on me again?"

He'd grabbed Korrine by the hair. I tried to intervene, earning a backhand that sent me sprawling.

"Ungrateful little shits," he'd snarled. "I'll teach you to lie to your own blood."

What followed was a nightmare of fists and screams.

I shake my head, banishing the memory. My hands clench without thought. Jarvil's "lessons" have shaped our lives in ways I'm only beginning to understand.

I move through the sparse living area. You can still smell Mom - lavender and sweat. She must have just gone to work.

"Another double," I mutter. "While that bastard's off chasin' his next big score."

My gaze falls on a crumpled parchment near Jarvil's chair. I snatch it up, deciphering his scrawl:

"Big score. Manor on the hill. Easy pickings."

Anger bubbles up inside me. Another foolish scheme. Another night Korrine will spend worrying.

"Damn you to hell," I hiss, chucking the parchment into the cold hearth.

The house feels different without the constant threat of Jarvil's temper. Lighter, somehow. I allow myself a moment to breathe, to exist without fear.

Without Dad here, the house feels lighter, but reality sets in fast. Korrine will work herself to the bone again. And when Jarvil returns empty-handed, his rage will be twice as potent.

I move to the tiny kitchen, determined to have a hot meal waiting for Korrine. As I rummage through our meager pantry, my fingers brush against a loose floorboard. Beneath it lies my secret stash—a few coins, a map, and a worn pamphlet about apprenticeships in the capital city.

My heart quickens at the thought of the life that awaits beyond these suffocating walls. I've been counting the days, watching guard rotations, memorizing merchant caravan schedules. Soon, I'll have enough saved. Soon, I'll make mymove. There must be more to life than this endless cycle of fear and want, and I'm determined to find it.

4

MILKOR

The gangplank creaks under our feet as we disembark. Jarvil stumbles. I grab his arm, steadying him with a strength that belies my slender Elven form.

“Easy there,” I mutter. “Wouldn’t want you face-planting before we even reach solid ground.”

Jarvil grunts, shrugging off my grip. “I’m fine. Just need to get my land legs back.”

The docks bustle with activity. Sailors haul crates, merchants hawk wares, and the air reeks of fish and sweat. It’s a far cry from the realms I once called home, but there’s a raw energy here that stirs something primal within me.

“So,” I say, matching Jarvil’s loping stride as we weave through the crowd. “Home sweet home, eh?”

He snorts, a grin breaking the surface for a moment. “Sweet ain’t exactly the word I’d use. But I’ve got coin now, so yeah, home.”

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