A King's Seduction ✔️

ONE

Four Months Since the Rebel Overthrow.

Irritated, I stare down upon my hands, silently cursing the stain so deeply embedded into the cotton, no amount of scrubbing will remove it.

Blowing a stray curl from my face, I let the yellow bar of soap glide from my grip and into the sudsy water. This client expects his white shirt to be spotless by tomorrow, and the store is only minutes away from closing. I eye the few lone coins at the bottom of my glass tip jar, knowing this is going to be another hard week.

All of Tai and I's savings are hidden in a small box at the very back of one of our cupboards. It still feels strange referring to the space as ours, despite the fact that it's been months since we arrived at our little cabin the Azure Province, fleeing from Marek and the rebel presence back in the Jade Province.

We haven't moved. We haven't had any suspicion that they know where we are. .

The bell above the door in the storefront suddenly jingles. Drawing my hands from the tub of water, I quickly dry my hands, no longer wincing at the feeling of the rough fabric against my once sensitive fingertips. Now, they are hardened and resistant to even the harshest fabrics and cleaning agents.
Working at this little laundry store is all that keeps me sane, aside from Tai.

Leaning through the archway, I look out at the door, noting the man brushing snow from his dark locks.

My heart falters.

The sweep of his hand pulls bronze strands back from his forehead, tinted with the faintest hint of a Summoner's marking. The breath quickly departs from my lungs as his icy blue eyes focus on me, leaving me scrambling amongst the fright that paralyses me.

After a long moment, I blink, realising I'm not staring at Marek. This man is nothing but a stranger. A Summoner, yes, but definitely not the hunter I saw at first glance. Summoners are rare, but I've seen plenty in my time here in the Azure Province. Almost none have had markings, but this man's is so faint, unlike what I remember Marek's to have been like. Marek has power, and it's evident this man has almost none.

"Excuse me ma'am?" He says uneasily, breaking the heavy silence tainting the room. "Is everything okay?"

The relief is so dizzying I have to brace myself against the archway. Now that I look, this man looks nothing like Marek. He has the basic features, but this man's eyes are darker than I first thought, and his nose is slightly bent out of shape, eyes far too close together.

I let out a long, slow breath. "Sorry, you look like someone I know."

With a thudding heart, I approach the counter, resting my palms against the surface. The one light in the middle of the ceiling does little to aid me, the trick of shadows and fear showing me what was never there in the first place.

"I have laundry," he comments awkwardly, motioning to the weaved basket of clothes he has propped on his hip. I nod numbly, patting the counter for him to set it on.

"Great, it will be done by tomorrow," I tell him, giving him a tight lipped smile. He gives me his name and address before leaving.

I hadn't realised the thought of Marek had been haunting me so much. Everyday I think of him, of where he is and what he is doing. I never speak to Tai about it, knowing he feels nothing but anger toward the Hunter. I may share the same resentment, but it's also mingled with fear...I'm afraid of what he may do when he finds me.

Watching the stranger leave through the door again, tracking through the snow and into darkness, I silently curse myself for my reaction. What would I have done if that was truly Marek?