Game Of Survival •in editing•

6 The Festival

The next morning I am sent to scrub every bathroom in the house, which is still in counting at six and a half. Daina supervises me throughout the day, I can feel her deadly glares on the back of my neck while I clean, spray and scrub the life out of the already clean tiles. She does nothing, says nothing, as if me handling her chores is payback enough.

"Scrub harder." She finally says, and I grit my teeth to bite back a harsh retort. I need to remember she is not the General and that I may need allies in his house in order to achieve my mission. So I do as she says, and I could almost see my anger in the reflection of the tiles. "Why are you here?" She asks quietly.

"I was sent on a mission, and I failed."

"No, I know that part. Why are you really here? Why hasn't he killed you already." Her voice is like poison, a trap for a house mouse that has invaded her personal life. I stop scrubbing, pulling the mask below my chin and brush the fallen hair from my face.

"You address the General as he?" I cock an eyebrow, a curiously smug look probably gleaming in my eyes. She bristles, her hand fiddling with her apron tied around her chubby waist. I smile, a hopefully friendly smile, and resume the scrubbing albeit halfheartedly. "I do not understand his true motive for keeping me alive. All I know is he wants answers I have and he will keep me alive until convinced otherwise. Happy?" I spare another glance. She grits her teeth, a huff leaving her flattened pink lips.

"To think I was knocked out by someone as unworthy as you."

"I won't say I'm that unworthy. If anything you have my respect for being out alone, so late at night, collecting sleeping flowers. Does the poor baby General have nightmares?"

"I still don't understand why he wouldn't just throw you in UnderLand and be done with it."

I rock back on my heels, thinking. "You have a point. Why, do you think I should suffer as the others have? You don't have to be afraid of me when this guy has a sword pointed at my back all day."

"If I were you I would be careful how you speak of his honor." Rider steps into the doorframe, a hand fiddling with his hilt and a grim line forms on his pale skin as usual. "You'd be better off having your tongue cut out."

"I'd very much prefer my tongue attached to my body, thank you very much."

Something about the way Rider stares at me tells me this is no joking matter. I need to protect myself, even if I am a prisoner that cannot be touched. I need my dagger, I need to fill that gaping void the absence of my weapons have created.

"I'll see to it from here, the both of you." His voice halts my scrubbing, my heart skipping a beat. This may just be the perfect timing; where is he hiding my daggers? On his person? In his room? I am slowly gathering the way he thinks, the way he analyzes. I have too little information on it ever since I discovered the grand room I broke into on my first day was a decoy, and not his actual bedroom.

I have not yet seen the General's bedroom. Daina won't allow me anywhere near the west wing of the mansion so my first guess is it might be there. But with Rider tailing me from the moment I wake up till the moment I sleep, it is hard to go off on an adventure in this Godforsaken house.

Daina and Rider bow their heads once in greeting before shuffling away. I do not miss the detestable glower they shoot my way.

"So you are useful for something else besides scheming my death." He leans on the doorway, his stature barely fitting within the frame itself. He is dressed with only his red breastplate and a sword, his deep red mask swinging from his lithe fingers.

"If I need to remind you, I've stopped scheming the moment I got caught. You needn't fear me." I smirk, and he actually smiles.

"Who said I did?"