Page 49 of Beyond The Maples
I look up at his hair, it's more tousled than I've ever seen, gentle messy curls making him look softer. He slicks it back during training. Between his hair and the scent lulling me into a false sense of security, I'm reminded of those sea creatures in the fairy tales we used to read, water dragons that look beautiful, before they open their mouths to devour their prey whole.
I notice again the small grey patch at the front, offset by the inky waves, and I ball my fist to stop myself from reaching out and tracing the scar that peeks out below the white. I want to see if his hair is soft. For science, I tell myself.
His smooth voice cuts through my thoughts like a slap, "I was just looking for a book."
I observe him as I step back, just slightly. I tell myself I don’t move back more because I don’t want to be the one backing down, but a part of me knows it’s more to do with that alluring smell and wanting to take him in close-up.?
"You can read?" I shoot back before thinking, clamping my mouth shut after the words are out.
I’m not even sure I mean it as an insult. More an observation. Someone that looks like him should be ripping people apart on the battlefields, not prowling across libraries.?
He barks a quick laugh, trying and failing to hold it in, and my entire body fills with an embarrassing satisfaction at the sound. It feels a little like I've won a prize, and it must show on my face because he smiles.
He smiles, and not a faint smile or a sarcastic smirk, but a genuine, devastating grin. His pearly white teeth and full lips are offset by dimples. I wish he wouldn’t do that.
"Yes, I can read," he replies, and although he sounds blunt, I catch the humor glinting in his eyes.?
I try to act casual as I walk back towards my cart.?
"I just didn’t think you were the type to be lurking in libraries, is all," I say with a shrug. He shakes his head, looking more exhausted than he did a moment ago.?
He hesitates, but then quickly shoots around me, spinning to face me while walking backwards. He seems to think something over before replying, "I better get out of your hair. I have a lot to do anyway––like learning how to read." He gives me a deadly smirk with a wink, turning to leave the aisle.?
When he turns, he obviously does so too quickly and forgets I’ve placed my cart right at the side of the entrance, because I hear a thud and a grunt. The cart smacks against the shelf after Tane walks into it. My hand flies up to my mouth to muffle my laugh as I hear a brief whispered curse, followed by heavy steps.?
I stand there for a moment, mulling over my interaction, feeling heat scorch my cheeks as I remember how shamelessly I was gawking at him. Again.
I remind myself that he's the Council's right-hand man. That he has a reputation for a reason, although I have seen little evidence of that, yet. My mind wanders to the church in town, the bodies. The girl. I shudder, wondering if Tane was the one who hung them. Everyone’s always talking about how he’s the Council's enforcer. My stomach churns at the thought.
As I push my cart to the next aisle, I lean to grab the right stack of books, and a title at the top catches my eye. Odd, I don’t remember seeing this one.Old Acardyan Lineages.It’s the perfect size, so on my way out it accidentally finds its way into my rolled-up jacket.?
As I walk into the cafeteria for lunch, I'm nearly trampled by a steady stream of cadets scrambling in the opposite direction. Everyone looks rushed, people abandoning their trays and heading towards the hall.
I pass a friendly face, a girl I chatted with briefly during training.
"What's going on?" I ask.
"No idea. Kethler came in screaming, and we were told to get our asses to the courtyard. You must have just missed him." She doesn't wait to see if I’m following her as she hurries past me.
I follow the crowd, looking for my crewmates in the packed hall. I see a familiar mop of hair, so I push past a few people, earning myself a several glares.
"What happened?" I ask Leo.
He gives me a worried look. "No idea, but it can't be good."
As we come out into the courtyard, I see three people being secured roughly to a metal arbour tucked neatly between the men's building and the concrete wall. Their hands are tied and lifted above their heads at an uncomfortable angle. The officers tighten the rope until their feet struggle to stay on the ground, their bodies stretched.
"Late last night, these three were caught having some fun in the engineering lab," a deep voice booms across the crowd.
Fallon, another one of the legionaries, stands in front, a determined gleam in his eyes as he addresses us. I've only caught glimpses of him around the compound. He always seems to be too busy to train us, and I assume he goes out in the field more than others in the legion. Fallon could be considered traditionally handsome. Hisrich brown hair lightly curled, and his jaw sharp. However, I doubt when people look at him, they see anything other than a predator.
He circles the detained cadets; when he gets to the girl at the end, she lets out a whimper as he roughly jerks the rope pulley, testing its tightness and wrenching her arms in the process.
"I think, five lashings each and three days on display should be enough penance to have them rethink their behaviour, don't you agree?" His eyes scan the crowd. The yard is deathly quiet. He scoffs. "Stand at attention, will you? You all look pathetic."
There's some shuffling, everyone finding their units and standing together silently. Farra steps beside me, shooting me a worried glance as we get into position. Once my crewmates are around me I feel less exposed until the first crack cuts through the air, followed by a devastating scream.
My eyes widen as I watch Fallon, gripping a metal handle attached to a long, sleek silver cord, whip the first cadet. His head rips back, body arching, as tears and sweat mix together down his face. My body tenses. Fallon, though? He smiles.
