Black Avatare

47 | VETERAN

"Gone for a week when you were grounded," the governess said in a voice barely above a whisper but cold enough to send chills down her spine. "Your mother couldn't get any information from the Yakadura. In fact, we got to know that you were suspended. I'm going to have a phone call with your mother to decide what to do with you, since you clearly don't listen to anyone anymore. In the meantime..."

Binara said nothing while her brain struggled to come up with a way to escape. Cold solidified into a dead weight inside. Hansi, the maid, descended the stairs and shot an apologetic glance at Binara before handing a key to the governess.

"You are locked out of your room," Nayana continued, eyeing Binara in distaste, but she made no comment about the cloak and the sword—as if nothing her charge did surprised her anymore. "Hansi will make sure you don't sneak out through the windows downstairs."

This was the worst possible hurdle the governess could spring upon her given the circumstances. Panic ratcheted up, higher and higher—like an icy geyser poised to erupt. Nayana turned on her heels and strutted upstairs.

"Miss Nayana," Binara called after her, taking a few steps forward, "I'll do whatever chores for a month, but I need to—"

"Are you out of your mind?" Nayana's voice rose an octave as she glared down from the top of the stairs, and then she let out a mirthless laugh. "Of course you are. But this is wild and erratic even for you. You have the nerve to talk back after all this? And where the hell do you think you're going at sundown? When there's a storm brewing no less?"

The words resonated in the foyer before decaying to nothingness. The skylight was so dim now that shadows elongated, eager to fill every nook, cranny and Binara's very head. She wanted to blast Nayana with the truth, but she knew that it wouldn't sway the governess. In her peripheral vision, she noticed the cook emerging from a hallway with alarmed eyes before retracing her footsteps.

The governess inhaled a deep breath and clip-clopped away.

As soon as Nayana went out of earshot, Binara whirled to face Hansi. "Let me out."

The maid looked like a cornered animal and shook her head vehemently. "Sorry!"

Binara didn't bother replying. She strode down a hallway, heading straight to the living room, where the windows weren't stuck fast.

"Miss Binara, you can't leave," Hansi whisper-shouted as she followed behind, feet pattering in a staccato beat. "It really is dangerous to leave at this time—"

"Stay out of my way," Binara muttered.

More words tumbled out of the maid's mouth, which she pretended not to hear.

Suddenly, Hansi broke into a run—a breathless projectile aimed at the living room door. Binara realized too late what she was up to. She gave chase, but Hansi pounced on the door, locked it and grabbed the key.

"You!" Binara glowered and lunged. "Give that back."

The maid let out a mini shriek and took off, slipping mere inches from Binara's outstretched arms. Their feet thudded down the hallway and back into the foyer. Hansi was surprisingly fast—or perhaps Binara was slower due to the sword on her back.

As the maid bounded up the stairs, where she probably entered Nayana's protective radius, Binara knew it was game over. She let out an expletive and fast-walked to the kitchen.

The back door was her only hope.

As she neared it, kitchenware plinked, adding to the soundscape of wind and the manor's quiet groans. Then Binara heard the staticky rasp of a news broadcast on the radio.