Page 13 of Riftborne
His once untamed locks were now pulled into a disciplined stream down his back.
He was striking in a cold-blooded kind of way, like his beauty was tinged with poison.
Unassuming, alluring even.
I brought my eyes up to meet his.
The scar that stained his otherwise perfect face was darker than I previously thought. The center was pitch black, fading out to the color of wine before sprawling into vein-like patterns across his cheek.
My eyes, braver than the rest of my body, remained locked on his. His expression was vague, and therefore, infuriating. There was no reading the General.
Logic told me that he was here to arrest me. The near-comforting confusion that Osta’s words had provided evaporated from my mind like a sudden drought.
As his stare continued, my stomach turned to acid. I knew the best plan was to play it safe, but a desire to resist clawed at me.
Fear still churned, but it was now tinged with a rage that had been dormant in me for the last five years, a rage that I had buried deep after the guards at the dam had murdered my friends. I knew then I could never act on it, never let it control me or I’d end up getting myself killed. But now as the General stood in front of me, looking so similar to them, that rage returned with a vengeance.
“The General has requested you for questioning regarding last night…” Ma finally announced, but her tone seemed less than sure. Her eyes shifted back and forth between us, searching for even a slight change of pace. But we were still locked in a stalemate.
Or so I thought.
My uncertainty festered like a poison, yet his eyes revealed no sign of weakness. He was in his element.
The echo of a smirk played at the corners of his lips.
My heart shuddered as a wave of nausea hit me, and I blinked.
He took it as an opportunity.
“Fia Riftborne?” I heard the words drip from his lips like blood from a dagger. His velvety voice grated against my spine far more than it should have. He was too polished, too poised. Bile rose in my throat.
“That’s me,” I muttered, albeit in a much more confident tone than intended. The wicked part of me gleamed with pride. His eyebrow peaked, leaving a crease in his forehead.
“And you were present during the celebration last night?” he asked, his voice tinged with amusement. Heat emanated from my hands, building until it reached the base of my skull. I bit back the twitch that threatened my upper lip.
He knew I was there. He saw what I did. The small talk was pointless.
“I was asked to deliver the last of the tonics to the party. Last minute orders from the Nobility,” I said flatly.
His eyes narrowed for a few seconds before turning to Ma. “Is there somewhere I could speak with her privately?” he asked, a sickening sweetness drenching his voice. “After all, I am here on official matters. It’s best I conduct this away from any potentially prying eyes or ears.”
Confusion rippled through me. Why wasn’t he taking me off to question me in custody?
Ma struggled to respond. She glanced at me, worry streaking across her forehead. I gave her a simple nod. This was happening one way or another. Might as well get it over with now.
Her eyes shifted back towards the General. I could tell she didn’t want to oblige, but Ma was in no position to refuse him. I didn’t want her to try to. This was my mess.
“There are greenhouses out back… they stay locked unless one of us is working there...” She paused before walking to her desk and retrieving a key from the drawer. I thought she might say something else, considering her hesitance, but she slowly returned, holding out her hand.
The General smiled as he took the key, “Thank you, Maladea. We shouldn’t be long.”
He turned towards the back door without a second glance, clearly expecting me to follow him. I squeezed Ma's hand as I brushed past her and gave her a reassuring look. I only hoped it was convincing.
We made our way to the greenhouse in silence.
He reached for the door and unlocked it gracefully. Stepping back and pulling it with him, he motioned for me to walk ahead. I hesitated.
“After you,” he murmured.
