Page 61 of Us Dark Few

Khalani shook her head, teeth clenching at the mention of her family.

Where was he going with this?

“Interesting.” The Warden leaned back, his attention fixated on her. “Governor Huxley contacted me not long ago. He is hosting a dinner tomorrow night at his mansion in Genesis, with the council members and their families present. The Governor prefers to use prisoners asservants. I think it’s because he enjoys pissing the other council members off.”

Her expression remained neutral, uncaring of the Governor’s plans to drink tea and savor luxuries with his minions on Genesis while everyone else suffered.

The Warden studied her reaction, waiting for her to respond.

“That’s…great.” Her lips pursed together in a fake smile.

“I’m glad you think so.” He tilted his head. “Because the Governor requested that you be one of the servants at this dinner.”

Only the sound of the fire crackling filled the space. She didn’t move. It was like his words entered and exited her mind but never registered.

Khalani shook her head. “I’m sorry, that must be a mistake. Perhaps you have the wrong prisoner.”

The Warden slowly grinned behind his hands. “I would probably think the same if I were in your shoes. But I can assure you that this is very real, and you will be on Genesis tomorrow. A few others will attend, but you are the only prisoner the Governor has ever personally selected. Now, why might that be?”

He sat up straighter in his chair, narrowing his eyes. Khalani’s mouth slackened, and she was suddenly lightheaded as Alexander Huxley’s face entered her vision.

She pressed a nail into her arm, hard enough to draw blood. The physical pain slowly cut through her senses, but she kept pushing into her skin. Her eyes drew to the fire, but no answers or hints of clarity were hidden within the red flames.

“I don’t know.”

No way the Governor even remembered her name after their brief encounter.

It couldn’t be true. It had to be a lie.

The silence felt like it stretched an eternity. Once he seemed satisfied with the truth behind her words, the Warden sighed deeply and stood, walking over to the dark mahogany cabinet.

Khalani relaxed her hand and noticed the dark red indent on her forearm glaring back at her. She sat in silence, bracing herself for the moment the rug would be torn from under her.She refused to let herself believe that she might live to see the gates of Genesis.

She jumped at the sound of the Warden’s black boots stomping toward her. He carried two glasses filled with a dark liquid. Extending one glass to her, he nodded for her to take it before sitting back down. Khalani eyed the drink warily, sniffing the contents.

The Warden snorted. “I promise you I didn’t poison it. Have a sip with me.” He held out his glass to her in a toast. He didn’t take his eyes off hers as he downed his drink.

Khalani closed her eyes and took a small sip. The bitter liquid tasted like rubbing alcohol dipped in bleach. She coughed and sputtered, her face contorting at the unwelcome burn.

The Warden just sat there and laughed. Prick.

“You know, that’s some of the finest cognac in Apollo. It was considered a very high-class drink before the Great Collapse.”

“Some things should have died with the Collapse.”

He smirked and set down his drink. “Perhaps. But I didn’t invite you here to solely talk about dinner plans tomorrow, 317.” The Warden’s silky voice sent chills down her spine, and the walls appeared to close around her.

“Use your words wisely if the Governor asks about your stay in Braderhelm,” he said. “Several years ago, a previous Warden was promoted to a councilman, and my political ambitions are headed in the same direction. A kind word or two with him will make your stay here more comfortable. If not, I can make life here a lot more painful.” His voice hardened at the end, and the malice in his sharp gaze intensified.

With each word, her breath hitched and her shoulders bent forward as if she might cave in on herself.

The favor he asked was no favor at all.

The Warden spoke with assured confidence and veracity, which only meant one thing. He was telling the truth.

Khalani nodded, unable to speak. Her skin itched and tingled, as if she were melting into the cushions of the red chair.

“Wise decision, 317. I know you will not disappoint me. You leave for Genesis tomorrow.” He gestured toward the door in dismissal.

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