Generis

22. Another Time

When your leader is practically a dictator voted in by democracy, there are some things you should and shouldn't do.

Like entering their private offices without permission.

Shuffling throughly documents you really shouldn't be looking at.

Because sooner or later, they get caught. And, with a ruler such as Thea, the consequences were that she would be anything but lenient, no matter who it was she was up against.

Despite knowing all this, Mehēa still managed to pry at the crack in his timid nature, getting ever more bolder by the day. Much to his fated demise, of course, but he was too blinded by the rush of excitement to see that.

It had been a few days since his dangerous encounter in her office, where he barely made it out undiscovered. Since then, Thea hasn't been on his case as often as she used to. Sometimes, she didn't even react even in the face of his mistakes. At most, she'd just shoot him a deathly glare, before walking past.

Not that Mehēa complained about it. Nor did he take it for granted. But he had to admit that it made him a bit less jumpy around her than he was before.

There were other guards and servants in the castle, but they all seemed monotonous and boring, like they'd been here for centuries. And though Mehēa wasn't much better, arguably his orange-brown hair made him stand out by a little.

He also noticed that Thea started going out of her way to watch his every move, which made him seize up ever so slightly when he noticed. All together, she was acting a lot stranger than she did before.

It was definitely something to do with that cell.

Even thinking about it made him sick again.

This particular day, he was walking through the stone hallways, the arch at the end signalling the entrance to the main hall. Thea had disappeared again, but to where was something he never knew. She never told him her business, and to be honest, nowadays, he didn't want to get involved. Anything to do with her ought to be bad news.

Earlier, after she left, he scoured the castle to make sure she was gone. Not only because he wanted proper silence, but because he wanted to go into that private office again.

Even though he'd done it before, his heart still thundered against his ribcage when he set off there. He could hear his ears ringing, almost like alarm bells telling him to go back to being the naive little boy he always had been.

Which was not going to happen.

It almost felt like the opportunity was handed over to him on a silver platter. Not that he should've taken it, of course, but he did anyway. He inched his way over there, like she was watching him right now. And though she wasn't, he was still as shaky as before.

He reached for the door handle, before remembering that it was somehow scorching hot. And he tossed the rope somewhere, somewhere he forgot. He looked at his palms. They showed no sign of burns at all. Now that he thought about it, his hands didn't even hurt after a while after he made the mistake of holding the door knob, nor did they show signs of blisters.

He was about to do something very stupid.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

He held his arm by the wrist, watching the pain tearing through his palm grow muted. It took a few minutes, but it did eventually fade.

The room didn't look touched, saved for the rearrangement of some letters, which he knew damn well he didn't cause. The room, red as ever, seemed to bleed darker than the last time he came here.