Autumn Reed is a brilliant trauma surgeon by day and a guild leader by night. Her bright red hair and radiant green eyes manage to fool everyone who crosses her path.
No one knows about the dark secrets that cloak her, the mask she wears and the li...
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Leadership is not simple. A leader must reprimand the team when required, and praise them when required. There must be a balance between the two, all the while encouraging them to do better.
'Good morning, Arcene.' The static voice of the automated sound system fills my bedroom. My eyes are still shut.
A leader must be a wise administrator.
'You have a meeting scheduled at eleven-thirty today.'
Oh right, the guild meeting.
I groan, covering my face with my palm. 'What time is it?' I ask.
'It's eleven o'clock,' the digital voice responds.
I should probably open my eyes now.
Lord, who agreed to a meeting this early?
Oh wait, I did.
Grumbling, I lift my body off of the bed, rubbing my tired eyes. I peek a glance at the fluffy pillow my head rested on just moments ago. Maybe I can snuggle into my blanket and fall back asleep...
No. I shake my head to myself. I am a leader. And a leader is punctual.
Wearing my purple, furry slippers, I make my way towards the bathroom, still half asleep. I brush my teeth, take a shower, and put on a simple, dark green buttoned shirt and tight black jeans.
I place my hand on the wooden railing and trod down the staircase that spirals its way into the lavish drawing-room.
I walk into the kitchen, trying to remember what we were supposed to discuss today as I prepare my breakfast. The usual checkup on inventory. The progress of every guildmate. Potential gains. Anyone who might have approached our guild for business. Threats the Insidious Serpents might be posing.
I sit down at the circular wooden table with my plate. Munching on my bacon, I glance at the wooden clock hanging on the blue kitchen wall. Eleven twenty-five.
I should hurry up. Guildmates are never late.
I finish the last of my breakfast and place my plate in the sink. I exit the kitchen, and plop down on my workstation in the drawing-room, going over the progress of the past month.
Mary Forasia. Maxwell Odrion. Gary Parker. Adrianna Bowmen.
A good performance for a good leader. But the surge of guilt that pricks me, every single time...I can't ignore it.
I brush it aside, gulping down some water from the water bottle placed near me.
The chime of the doorbell pulls me away from my thoughts. I hastily pull my phone from my pocket and check the time. Exactly eleven-thirty.
