COF 3: The Fallen Dynasty

2 | Proof (I)

Reeca had agreed. She had no idea how to apply the ointment on herself. So...a week it was. A week more of Nyxis's raving about perfection and all that. Back at the present, Reeca tousled her short hair. Nyxis wasn't a bad person—far from it. He was able to adapt well in any situation and fought well, if not even professionally. What irked Reeca was how he managed to insert himself in any conversation that always got back to his perfection and his face.

It was amusing at first but Reeca wasn't amused now. Just a week more and then she could be rid of his perfect rear.

"What are we doing here, really?" Nyxis slipped off his stool to crouch and examine the grass. Okay. Fine. Nyxis wasn't ever going to listen to Reeca. "I am pretty sure we are not here for cups of luuro."

Reeca's stomach turned at the mention of the Helinfirth sweet delicacy. Damn, she wanted one. "We are waiting for someone," Reeca said instead. "When he arrives, kindly step outside and wait there," she extended a finger to his face before he could open his mouth. "No questions."

Nyxis shrugged then turned back to the grass. Reeca sighed and scanned the place, past the chattering shard fairies with their light-toned hair, pale complexions, and simple clothes. Wood surrounded them, from ceilings to the planks supporting the roof, and even the walls. Reeca frowned. This would easily burn down.

A wooden door stood at the far corner of the room, a little too far from Reeca's table as she would have liked. It would be tricky to escape through that. The windows that peppered the walls in equal intervals were slated with glass. So, punching windows would be the best option for a quick getaway. Let her hope that it wasn't presora glass and would shatter upon impact.

The counter rimmed the room that would allow the people behind it from going anywhere they wanted, eavesdropping on any conversation they could. Reeca pursed her lips. Why would Rhys request to meet in a place like this? It was noisy with far too many people around.

Why Helinfirth or Rabantee, of all places?

Reeca's hand disappeared inside her armor and her fingers brushed the maximizer. Her mind flared with the memory of how she got it in the first place. Cyrdel had been preparing to go back to Depandes when Reeca cornered him. Thankfully, that Ravalee girl wasn't around.

"I just got it back," the Alkaran prince had said, staring into her eyes through his bronze-rimmed spectacles. "What makes you think I'll give it to you?"

Reeca had crossed her arms. Cyrdel didn't back down when she confronted him unlike everyone else she had. He had been through some stuff, then. "You'll be helping a cause that will save the island and probably your life," Reeca shifted her weight to one foot.

Cyrdel had scratched his head with a scoff. "Save the island?" he had inclined his head at Reeca. "You can do that?"

Reeca's fists clenched at her sides. "I intend to," she replied quietly.

Cyrdel had shaken his head. "I'm not sure I'll be able to follow," he had braced his hips with his hands. "But what are you fighting for?"

Reeca had been taken aback by his question as she stepped back. So Cyrdel hadn't lost his sense inside his amber head even after the battle they had just been through. The words had died in her tongue. "Uh, I'm fighting for this world we live in," Reeca had blurted.

"You gotta be more specific than that," Cyrdel had said.

"Um," Reeca knew why she had hesitated back then. She wasn't sure how much she should reveal about everything she knew. Rhys told her to persuade others to join their cause. He didn't tell her how. Sucks. "Uh..."

Cyrdel had gripped the maximizer tighter before stuffing it into his pocket. He turned away. "I thought so," he began walking away. No. Reeca had to get that device. "You aren't worthy of this until you can answer my question."