Four Suits (Book 1)

Day 52-3: House of Cards

"I-I'm..." He pauses, ears frantically waving upon his head. His fingers fiddle with his black cloak, his other hand reaching to part the mask from his face. He has a head of thick, lustrous red hair—so bright it emulates a scorching fire. Along with baby cheeks and a sepia-coloured skin tone, his eyes are a mesmerizing emerald. "I-I'm not used to interacting with many people," he stammers onward. "Let alone a human, s-so I don't know how I should behave."

Leda doesn't even notice she's gawking until his awe-inspiring irises shift towards her, tense for a response. He's so pretty, so much so it's difficult to believe he's a man. It's enough to make any girl swoon.

"So you can speak," Leda finally says, nudging free of her ogling.

   "I-I'm s-sorry," he whimpers. "I-I know I shouldn't have opened my mouth. Master Rhett always orders me not to."

From where she is, Leda can clearly see the film of tears that have washed over his eyes.

"You don't need to apologize," she says before he can cry. Though she knows there's little point in being concerned for one of the people associated with her kidnapping, she can't help herself. He really is sensitive.

For a split second, awe of some kind sifts across his countenance. Whether it's surprise for her concern or her willingness to hear him speak, Leda doesn't have the leisure to figure it out.

A booming shout rips through the air, seizing all attention.

"There he is!"

The boy, bluntly put, screams. Without even whipping his neck to the window where the shout had erupted, he takes a nosedive under the covers of the pristinely made bed a foot away.

Leda watches him cower under the sheets. Her face falls flat.

   Is he serious?

The guards below go on to grumble about a false alarm. Leda ganders out, observing them loiter right below the window while they nonchalantly discuss where to go next.

"H-have they disappeared?"

"Not yet," she deadpans. "But now I kind of want you to."

He carefully pokes his head out from the covers.

Her bottom lip catches between her teeth. Might as well ask.

   "Why are you the talk of this tower anyway? That Rhett guy said something about ripping off your legs when he finds you."

His green eyes become glossy with newfound tears. "I-I'm going to die!"

   "Well, that sucks. I hope you rest in peace."

He lurches onto his knees, distress consuming every inch of his face. Clearly that isn't the response he expected.

Regardless, Leda merely drapes a hand over her hip. "I don't mean any harm, but as much as I enjoy having you here—like really, look at the joy radiating from my face—I'm starting to think that if I notify the guards that you're here they might set me free."

He scrambles off the bed, nearly tripping over his lengthy cloak in the act. "You do not— How do you know for certain that I am even the one they're looking for? Unless you know my name—"

"Orian?"

"—Yes. My name is Orian and you don't—" A horrified gasp leaves his mouth as he recoils. "You know it?"

"I mean," she says, "it'd be stupid of me not to remember the name everyone here keeps yelling. I was a little unsure at first but, thanks for confirming, Orian. Oh, and just so that everything's equal, my name's Leda."