Page 17 of Song of the Dragon Rider
Fernando’s brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I ignored him and turned to Angie. “I’ve seen better. Honestly, I can’t imagine what I—or rather, what Cat—ever saw in him.”
“Excuse me?” Fernando said, his voice rising.
I turned back to him with an icy expression. “You heard me. And while we’re on the subject, let me save you the trouble of whatever excuse you were about to offer. Consider this…arrangementterminated.”
Fernando blinked, and then his face turned red. “Terminated? Wait,Iwas going to—”
“Yes,” I said, my tone clipped. “You are no longer needed. Or wanted. You may go.”
His jaw worked as he struggled to find words. Then, to my surprise, his expression softened, almost pleading. “Cat, wait. I… I messed up. I know that. But we can work through this, can’t we?”
I blinked, momentarily thrown by his sudden change in demeanor. Wasn’t he about to break up with this Cat person? What changed?
Angie, standing behind him, looked like she was about to burst out laughing.
“Work through this?” I repeated, my voice dripping with incredulity. “You cheated. That’s not a mistake. That’s a character flaw. And frankly, I don’t have time to waste on men who lack the decency to be honest.”
“But—” he started, his voice breaking slightly.
“No,” I said firmly, cutting him off. “Whatever attachment you think you have to me is meaningless. Take your excuses, your pleading, and your… your mediocre self, and leave.”
Fernando’s face went through a myriad of emotions before finally settling on one: defeat. “Fine,” he said stiffly. “But you’ll regret this.”
“Doubtful.” I offered a dismissive wave. “And leave the… what was it you said he had?” I turned to Angie.
“The key.” She stretched her hand out to him. With a huff, he pulled the key from his pocket and slapped it in Angie’s palm. Then he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The moment he was gone, Angie collapsed onto the couch, laughing until she gasped for air. “Oh my god,” she managed between breaths. “You broke him. I don’t think he’ll ever recover!”
I smirked, then elegantly sat down and crossed my legs. “Good. Perhaps he’ll think twice before attempting to insult me with his presence again.”
Angie shook her head, still laughing. “You are something else, Cat.”
“Yes,” I said, smoothing the fabric of my jeans with distaste. “I am.”
6
CAT
Long after Damien deposited me back at the Ryder compound, my mind spun with a multitude of thoughts. For the first time in my life, I just wanted a drink… and a tub of ice cream, to be safe. In moments like these, I missed my best friend Angie. During times of crisis, she would come over to binge TV shows with a couple bags of take-out, or if I was truly depressed, a couple pints of ice cream. But this place didn’t have electricity, and I struggled to remember a world with Wi-Fi. Now look at me, all humble and shit.
“Fuck.” I sighed heavily as I trudged across the expansive courtyard. The open-air layout felt both liberating and confining under the blue expanse of sky. Each section of the living quarters branched off from this central area, their ancient wooden doors creaking open like chapters in a dusty tome of tales. “I feel like I’m living in a museum. Sweet baby Jesus.”
As I entered my assigned quarters, the scents of fresh earth and lavender greeted me—a stark contrast to the sterile conveniences of modern life. Inside, Maeve was tidying up, her presence a slight comfort in this otherwise alien setting. She paused with her cleaning rag mid-swipe when she caught sightof me. Her eyes, wide and concerned, quickly scanned me for any signs of distress.
“My lady, are you okay?” she fretted, rushing over with a mix of maternal worry and servant’s duty. “Did he do anything to you?”
I plopped down on a stone bench near the entrance, the cool evening air mingling with the residual heat of the day stored in the stonework. “Besides keeping me in Elaria as a prisoner? No,” I replied dryly.
I had already told Maeve about my plan to leave, and she was all for it. She’d prepared everything for Arya’s return, so when she saw me again, to say she was disappointed was an understatement.“You know, Maeve, I never asked why you’re so hell bent on getting Arya back. She treats you worse than a worn-out broom. What’s up with that?”
Maeve bit her lip, a gesture of nervousness, and her eyes darted away before settling back on me. “Trust me, my lady, no one is eager to see Lady Arya return, but it’s the right thing to do. There should be order in the world, and frankly, you just don’t belong here.”
“Yeah, I couldn’t agree more. If only Damien had some common sense, and a beating freakin’ heart!” I mused, rubbing my temples as I stood.
“So, what did he say, my lady? How long will he keep you here?” Maeve’s voice was tinged with concern.
“Until he feels like letting me leave,” I answered vaguely. I trusted Maeve more than anyone else here, but I also knew how people worked. And when push came to shove, perhaps under heavy torture or the right threats, anyone would cave. It was best if she didn’t know the truth, for my safety and hers.
