[The rewritten version of Two Gangs and a Golden Girl]
DO NOT ATTRACT ATTENTION UNLESS YOU ARE PREPARED FOR THE CONSEQUENCES.
Such is the law in Tygerwel, a town torn apart by a long history of bad blood.
19-year-old Amber Marigold can barely face t...
Owen raised his head at the sudden gunshot. He turned towards the Western dock and glared at the figures. Uncivilised. Although the East was not noble in their dealings either, they would never stoop so low as the West. Druggies and trigger-happy pricks.
"I'm sure you can manage the rest," he resumed the conversation.
"We'll deliver this straight to our cyng," one of the men replied.
"And be sure to invite Alexei to my match on Thursday."
"Of course."
"Then I bid you a goodnight."
Owen turned on his heel and left the Eastern dock, his coat swaying behind him as he kept a brisk pace. The corner of his eye stayed fixed on the Western rats some distance away.
"You sure got a pricey gift for the Rumbullion bloodline," Matt commented as he followed behind. "Would your father approve?"
"Dad trusts me," Owen said. "Besides, the gain outweighs the loss. Rumbullion is the second largest bloodline for a reason."
They reached the car where Seane waited and got in. The driver sent a glance under his dark fringe, and they were off.
"I don't know, Owen," Matt sighed, leaning back in his seat with a stretch. "The timing feels bad. Maybe a month ago, your gift would have been praised, but you still haven't faced them after the bet."
Owen pulled at the coarse scabs on his knuckles, weighing his first kin's words. Matt was a goof, the charmer for a reason, but he was rarely wrong about these things. The cyng most likely had a tough conversation waiting for him once he visited his parents.
"That's a problem for Thursday," he said.
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The first Thursday of April was approaching unreasonably quickly. Owen could not convince himself to return to school after finding out Goldie was already in love with someone else. It was a miracle he could keep himself composed when she told him.
By the time his day of reckoning arrived, he still lacked a decent argument. Dreading the unavoidable conversation, he had Seane drive him to his family estate. The guards let them pass without question, and the long driveway to the house felt much too short. It was an old building but kept in prime condition, and although it usually appeared welcoming, today, it felt overbearing.
"You're on your own," Seane said when he parked the car.
