𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐌 ⸻ argentum chronicles

𝟎𝟔, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐘

"Gold?" Adin asked, feeling slightly mesmerized by the shiny metal, and embarrassed, too, that he had been caught looking at her bracelet.

Medea set her cup in front of her, her hands wrapped around the glass. She stared at the drink for a long time before she finally responded, "My ancestors were of the Noble House until my father cut off all ties with royalty for love." Her lip curled into a sneer. "My mother, well, made a lot of enemies. We should've expected it, but they caught us off guard. Our family was robbed of my father's ideas and then I was in need of medical attention. In his haste, he sold all of his valuables but this bracelet. Even then, we ended up in debt." Her shoulders slumped.

He knew he could understand. There was a difference between not showing sympathy and being nosy yet Adin couldn't stop the question from rolling off his tongue. "What happened next?"

"Doesn't matter," Medea responded quietly, an edge to her voice that Adin had never heard before. Her eyes and voice softened. "I've learned it's not how you start off that counts, it's how you finish."

Not knowing what exactly to say, Adin replied, "Poetic."

She laughed, shaking her head. "I've got more, and I'm sure some of them could give Edgar Allan Poe a run for his money," she joked.

"No, seriously!" Adin said, grinning.

"I'm sure he wouldn't even be a poet if they met her," Chris added as he rolled his eyes.

They fell into a comfortable silence but Adin couldn't stop thinking about what Chris had said—if they met her. Finally, he asked, "What would happen if the outside world found out about us?"

For a long time, no one said anything.

Medea turned to stare out the window. "As they have always done in history, they will be blinded by greed, and a war will break out, one that Amethirus has never fought before."

"And our island will be torn to shreds," Chris finished.

After three dreadful minutes of silence, Medea cleared her throat. "Well, let's hope that doesn't happen then."

Chris shot her an irritable look. "You think?"

Under the table, Adin kicked Chris' shin.

"Right," Chris muttered immediately.

Thankfully, their discussion took a much lighter turn. Chris was back to being his jokester self ( why do spies undercover prefer armor made of leather? because it's made of hide ) but there was an underlying tone of annoyance in his voice. Adin was worried that his friend was feeling sick, though Medea didn't seem to notice anything weird, and Chris seemed energetic enough to fight over the check with him ( Adin won, and he silently thanked his height for giving him the advantage ).

They left the small café to browse through the rows of shops. Admittedly, Adin needed some new clothes but he had promised Chris to go to the apothecary. Without much consideration, Adin decided to follow Chris—his entire life was filled with broken promises, and he was feeling terribly sick of them. Besides, he could just go to the clothing stores with Medea later.

Inside the apothecary was like a candy shop—except eating the wrong one guaranteed a slow, painful death. Clear chutes filled with herbs took up the entire surface area of two wide walls, and leaning against another were rows of cabinets, each door fastened with a lock. Adin glanced at the floor, finding it peculiar that it was purely pavement. The rest of the space was taken up by a labyrinth of shelves, these holding everyday medication supplies—medicine for headaches, creams for burns, and bandages for scrapes.