Page 11 of Burned to Obey

“What is it?” he asks, voice low and even.

“Your ledger’s off,” I say, tapping the page. “These spears—here.” I point to a line referencing a row of short-bladed javelins. “You’ve got two fewer than recorded.”

He steps closer, and I catch a whiff of worn leather and faint metal polish on him. Being near him magnifies just how large he is—he could lift me one-handed if he wanted. Yet he leans in with precise control, scanning the notation.

“Show me,” he says.

I spin on my heel, leading him to the rack. My boots scuff the stone floor, and I feel his presence just behind. When I crouch to indicate the slots, he stays standing, arms folded as if he expects me to demonstrate the difference.

“See?” I count the javelins. “We’re short.”

He studies them, then shifts his attention to me. “You read minotaur script well enough. Where did you learn?”

I swallow, not ready to divulge my entire history. “I had time to pick up a few skills.”

He exhales softly. “Good.” He straightens, glancing at the guard captain. “Send someone to check if the missing javelins are in the training yard. They might have been borrowed but not logged out.”

The guard nods and leaves at once. Saru lingers, his gaze still on me, one brow lifting. “Any other discrepancies?”

I shrug. “Not yet. But I’m sure I’ll find more flaws in this brilliant system.”

A corner of his mouth tightens, though not in anger. “Keep looking.”

He walks away, each step a measured thud of hooves on stone, returning to the main table. I remain behind, a surge of restless energy coursing through me. Something about our exchange feels charged, as if we’re testing boundaries in a dance neither of us wants to acknowledge.

I resume my task, half-hoping to spot more errors just to prove I’m valuable enough not to kill. Despite my resentment, I know it’s a lifeline. If I can prove they need me, maybe I can buy time. I’m not naive enough to think Saru is my champion. But if he wanted me dead, the Bastion’s arena would have already swallowed me.

I move on to the sword racks next, flipping pages in the ledger. That’s when I notice movement in my peripheral vision—Saru approaching again, quietly.

He stands close enough that I feel the warmth radiating from his body. “This is the private armory,” he says. “Some of these weapons belong to my personal collection. Handle them carefully.”

I snort, eyes locked on the swords. “You think I’m going to sabotage your precious gear?”

He’s silent for a moment, then replies, “You’ve done it before—to a ship.”

My spine stiffens. “That was different.”

“I’m sure it was.” He’s so calm, so infuriatingly calm, that it flares my temper.

I slam the ledger shut and face him. My head tilts back just to meet his stare. “Do you want a confession?” My voice grows sharper. “Yes, I set a slave ship ablaze because I’d rather see it burn than let it carry innocent people to chains. And if that puts me on the Senate’s death list, so be it. I regret nothing.”

His gaze flickers, something unreadable stirring there. “I’m not asking for remorse,” he says quietly. “But I wonder if you know what that vessel carried. It wasn’t only slaves, was it?”

My heart thuds. Memories rush in of contraband magic stored in the hull. “No,” I admit, words bitter, “it held other dangerous cargo. Did you want me to wait while they shipped it off for profit?”

Saru doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, his gaze roams my face, as if he’s searching for cracks in my armor. I hold steady, refusing to break.

“Your intentions might have been noble,” he says at last, “but you still killed a noble heir—someone with ties to the Senate. There are consequences.”

“That’s your way of telling me I’m doomed anyway?”

He doesn’t nod, doesn’t shrug. Just stands there, large arms folded. “If you choose to see it that way.”

“Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll do this inventory. It doesn’t change the reality that I’m a prisoner—and the Senate wants my head.”

A soft rumble emerges from his chest, like a resigned sigh. “I know what the Senate wants. For now, you’ll work under my watch. That’s all.”

He pulls away, returning to the front table. This time, I watch him for a moment before turning back to the swords.

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