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A week had passed since your recovery. Sigewinne had finally diagnosed you to be all good, and you were able to return to your room. However, she said that you couldn't return to the Pankration Ring for two weeks.
It wasn't like you even had time to do so.
You were constantly dealing with loads of criminals crowding around you. They bothered you as you worked in the production zone, when you were eating at the cafeteria, and even when you were sleeping in your room.
You liked attention, but definitely not like this.
Is this what a celebrity such as the Mahamatra, or even the Dendro Archon feels like?
Stuffing some corn into your mouth, you listened to the group that surrounded you at the lunch table who all were demanding you to take over as the Duke.
"With you in lead, we can really live better down here." A man said.
"I don't know how many times I have to tell you. I'm. Not. Going. To. Be. The. Duke." You huffed, slamming your lunchbox closed.
"Then at least consider working with him!" Another said. "It's so cold down here, we would all freeze to death before even finishing our sentences!"
Rolling your eyes, you stood up. "Bye."
You walked over to the trash can, throwing the rest of your food away. You brought the box to the front counter, looking at a new chef who had replaced Wolsey.
"Thank you. I hope you enjoyed." He said, smiling.
"I barely could even enjoy it." You responded, looking over at the men you were arguing with.
"It'll get better. Word will just die out, and you'll be able to live a normal life." The chef said.
You let out a soft smile. "Thanks. I appreciate it."
"Anytime. But now that I have your attention, can I interest you in having dinner with me tonight...?" The chef blushed.
Scoffing, you furrowed your brows. "Here I was thinking you were some nice guy."
"Hey. Can I get a welfare meal?"
A woman stepped next to you. You side eyed her appearance as she looked at the chef. Her red lipstick made her stand out from all the women here, and her slick ponytail gave off a chemical aroma.
You stared down at her outfit.
Your outfit.
"...Of course. Here you go." The chef pulled out a lunchbox, handing it to the woman.
"Thank you. I can take you up for dinner if she won't." She stood on her toes, plopping back down to make her exposed breasts bounce. The chef eyed them, but put his attention back onto you.
"It's nothing but a friendly dinner. I promise I'm not trying to poke at you about any rules here." He said.
The woman snorted. "Hey, didn't you hear me?"
You laughed. "If you want a man's attention, boobs aren't going to get you far."
She looked at you with hateful eyes. "I wasn't talking to you."
"Oh? Sorry. I guess my outfit must have caught my attention." You smirked, watching her spin around to face you.
"We had an agreement. This is my outfit now." She put the box back onto the counter, folding her arms over her chest.
"Oh? Then you must not know that your outfit was pulled from a tiger in the forest, stripped of its fur, and its flesh used for the buttons." You watched her body turn in disgust as she believed your lie.
"You—!" She tried to speak, but the chef cut her off.
"Hey, let's not get ahead of ourselves—"
"Shut up!" She yelled, making her voice echo off the walls. Everyone's attention was now turned to the both of you.
"You think you can just seduce everyone here with your looks. That's not how this world works, desert girl." She pointed a finger at you, making you smile.
"Is that not what you're doing? Seems you must be fond of me and my ways." You teased.
Gritting her teeth, she turned her nose up. "You think you're all that? Your body is shameful. Don't try and place it on a silver platter for all the men here."
You chuckled. "Don't worry. I'll save some of them for you, since you like playing dress up. Maybe I'll seduce your dad next—"
Your mouth fell closed as a harsh slap was delivered to your face. You barely moved in response, feeling your heart burn.
Forcing a smile, your eyes went wide with excitement.
You looked at her wildly, causing her to take a step back.
"You're fucking crazy!"
She brought up her other hand, attempting to slap the other side of your face.
But her motions were stopped by a fierce grip on her wrist.
"That's enough."
A large crowd had gathered around the two of you, whispers and chatters sounding throughout the cafeteria.
Wriothesley looked at the woman with low eyes.
She looked up at him, clearly taken aback by his grip. "I... She started it...!"
You smiled harder, feeling your teeth push down on each other heavily.
She looked at you, anger and fear coming about her expression.
"Garde. Take her away." Wriothesley looked back at a man who held a gun in his hands.
"Understood." He grabbed the woman's arm, pulling her out of Wriothesley's death grip.
You kept staring at her as she cursed a foul language back at you.
"You." Wriothesley looked down at you, but your gaze was too fixated on the woman. "My office. Now."
Wriothesley grabbed your arm, pulling you away from the crowd. They separated for the two of you to pass, whispers still coming around the area.
You were brought to the center of the Fortress and into a large room. Going up the stairs and into a smaller space, Wriothesley pushed your body down onto the chair resting in front of his desk.
He sat down in a larger seat, folding his hands together and staring at you.
You crossed your legs, resting your hand on your head.
"...Why are you smiling?" He asked.
You pushed out a forceful laugh.
"Because I'm angry."