The Girl Underground

Chapter 9: We Dance into the Lonely Hours

"Well her with her stony brown and him with his stern expression... I do like a man who broods," Jane winked. "Malia, you're blushing."

Malia turned away from her friend and stood. "We have work to do."

Jane cackled. "So you lust after the Magistrate too? What, so that makes you like the rest of us young girls? For shame!"

"Stop it, Jane," Malia said, though she didn't mean it. It felt slightly good to know that she was just like the others girls with her feelings for the Magistrate. Although it did make her stomach turn to entertain the possibility of him feeling the same way towards many women himself, as men often did.

And does he invite every woman he lusts after into his underground cellar? He's a Magistrate, he should know better!

Yes, he was a Magistrate... And a reckless one at that! Malia didn't dare to think of what could possibly happen if she... God, dare she? But why not? It was like Jane had said, Abigail was a foul woman blessed with luck to have a husband like him. Malia hardly saw that as fair. Why did that horrid witch, get to have him all to herself?

"Malia?"

She looked up at her friend and sighed. "Come on, we have work to do."

What do you want to do?

XXX

There was an ethereal spirit that the night brought to the wayward soul. Malia felt this the moment she woke up to the moon's light and stared about her soundless bedroom. Jane was fast asleep, breathing deeply with a soft vibrato when she exhaled.

Slowly, Malia crawled out of her bed and landed lightly on her feet. She tried to breathe quietly through her nose as she threw a shawl over her nightgown and slipped on her sandals. The whole while, she kept watching Jane, but the girl was an extremely heavy sleeper. There could have been pirates sacking Dawn-Bridge and likely the girl would have slept right through the rampage.

Still, that fact didn't stop Malia from being careful in trying to sneak out of the room. The servant's quarter was asleep, as they were into the later hours of the night. Usually no one roamed these halls after hours. So when Malia slipped out of her room and out into the hall, she speed-walked to the stairs leading down into the kitchen, and lightly stepped over to the door.

She placed her hand on the handle and paused, feeling the cold metal seep into her blood. She had decided not to think about the actions that would follow too much, because if she did, then she would question everything. There was no turning back the moment she stepped outside, she knew that. She accepted it.

Abigail doesn't deserve him.

And she did?

Malia shook her head and braced herself; not daring to look behind her for fear that it would make her change her mind. She pushed all doubt out of her mind and began to turn the knob.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Gasping loudly, Malia whirled around and placed a hand over her heart, which was racing fast enough to explode out of her chest. "Brandon!"

"Are these nightly excursions of yours something I'm going to have to expect to happen often?" Her friend asked, stepping into the light, a questioning look on his tired face.

"Go back to sleep, Brandon," Malia said, trying to keep her voice down to possibly cover up the fact that she had nearly screamed earlier.

"Tell me where you're going."

"Out."

"I can see that," he drawled, not amused. "Where?"

"Never you mind, now go back to sleep!"