Glass Dominion

Chapter Twenty-Two

Though I'd been there only a short time, I was beginning to understand the way that the palace worked. There were many layers to it, too many to ever fully uncover.
Like the rest of Glass Dominion, the palace had a hierarchy built on nothing but people serving themselves, feeding their desires and ambitions. There wasn't a price they wouldn't pay to get what they wanted in the end.
And therein lied the catch because I was kind of just there, with no compass, no reason. I'd composed theories and had ideas of my own, but nothing had been confirmed. And I didn't, for one second, believe what the Commander had told me.
It was difficult to know what to believe. One moment he's flirting with me, the next he agrees that the hate for one another is mutual. One moment he could be telling the truth, and the next he could be lying.
I participated in the classes I was required to, and I saw Genevieve as often as I could. Considering my attendance at each meal was required, most of my days were starting to take shape and routine.
The balance seemed to calm the pit in my stomach which allowed me to keep food down, even if it were only a couple bites at times—anything to avoid another dreaded evening in his office. I still had the hardest time sleeping, and I wasn't sure why because the bed was so comfortable.
I was managing, and learning the routine, but that was all about to change. My first day of training had finally arrived. I wasn't nervous, just hesitant because now, it all seemed real.
Knowing myself, I wasn't sure how I was going to fare in a room full of combatants, learning their ways. I flourished more in a classroom than in a training room, I knew that from the enjoyment I'd had from learning about things I hadn't learned before in school.
Unlike other countries, Glass Dominion had little opportunity beyond basic education. Once you were an adult, you either got recruited and worked long and hard hours to provide for your family. Or worked long and hard hours for yourself to move up in the hierarchy.
If anything, that was the one thing that bothered me the most. My entire life, the emperor was a supposed graceful and kind man, and so were the people of the palace. But after living their lifestyle, alongside them, I realized that couldn't have been further from the truth.
Grassheen had years to develop into the flourishing village that it was. It may have been difficult at times but they'd learned to make the best of it and it was simply because they had no other choice but to. Uhkaava never learned how to improve or develop their lifestyle. It had always stayed the same, poor and filthy, packed with people who worked their hardest, hoping it'd amount to something, yet it never seemed to be enough.
Valamire wasn't nearly as poor, they were paid in galore for their work because it was vital to our country. I had a theory that it was all part of their scheme, never to let it show. And certainly not because they were humble, it was because they were greedy. Much like the palace, with flourishing amounts of wealth, yet they still strived for more. Nothing seemed enough to satisfy the hunger for power.
And then Cordolium, which was basically a smaller version of Novoitzhev. Either everyone lived on a cloud of oblivion, or they just didn't care. Ignoring the fact that everyone else in their country had to suffer in the name of whatever was worth more than the lives of people.
Sitting at the breakfast table, I did my best to block out the surrounding chatter. My endless thoughts usually provided enough noise to drown it all out.
When breakfast was over, everyone slowly began to flow out of the breakfast hall. I tried to make myself as small and invisible as possible, so I followed silently.
The walk was long down the corridor even longer due to the bunches of warriors that refused to walk in a line as they were supposed to.
When we entered the training room, the cluster of warriors faded into a perfectly straight row that I struggled to fall into.
The room was nothing like I'd imagined. The tall ceilings and walls reminded me of the architecture of a cathedral. There were giant windows that allowed too much light in, and the tall ceiling was home to a massive skylight. Standing before us was a platform covered in foam mats, and the walls were lined with equipment.
Despite my unyielding obstinacy I was forced to wear the leather armor, it was required. I didn't put it on correctly, half out of spite, and half because I had no idea what I was doing.
Standing amongst the row of warriors standing half at attention, I had never felt more like a fish out of water, like I was somewhere I truly did not fit.
Yet, I still felt that anticipation, waiting for what was going to come next. What would training be like, and if it would be more focused on strategic combat, fist fighting, using knives— there were so many unknowns.
The mandatory silence in the room was rudely interrupted by small chattering voices. As annoyed as I was by most of the people, I could tell exactly what kind of person each one of them was just by watching them.
There were the women who looked strangely out of place, wearing makeup and having manicured hands. Then there were the women who had tattooed sleeves and messy haircuts. I felt like I was somewhere in between the two.
The men were either scrawny and smart, or buff and haughty, both rather unattractive. There were a certain few that inhabited the balance between the two. I wasn't in any way a charmer, so I wasn't going to bother with trying to even speak with a male. And I didn't plan on being there long.
After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the large room was filled with echoing footsteps. Assistant trainer, Zhao, took her stance before us on the platform.
She stood strongly in her black leather and tall boots, examining every detail of the stern faces before her. She and I shared the same complexion and the same long dark hair. And despite the fact that she scared people senseless, admirably, both power and beauty bled from her bones.
I suppose that was another reason I felt so out of place. Everyone there was the best of the best concerning experience and skills, and I was a complete novice.
"Welcome," greeted Zhao, in a composed tone of voice. She then symbolized peace to the people, and her warriors did the same in return. I had to force myself to. "We train, and we serve under a genuine and mighty emperor. Let's be sure that our representation is up to par and that our efforts are at their greatest."
Her eyes kept grazing over me while she spoke. In my best attempts to avoid eye contact, my gaze was turned anywhere but in her direction.
My eyes found a resting place on the ground in front of me. I knew that she was mainly referring to me. It was clear to see I hadn't put the armor on correctly. And maybe she could tell by the look on my face that I just really did not want to be there.
Around me, whispers erupted through the line of warriors, doing their best to keep it quiet. Shoulders rustled together, feet scuffed the floor.
I lifted my head to see what had caused the sudden wave of shock, directly meeting two cold eyes that were already on mine.
Christian had approached on the platform, taking a stance beside Zhao with his hands situated behind his back. I could've scowled but suppressed my emotion.
He looked so different, I was surprised when I beheld him. His pants were tucked into tall boots of worn black leather. He wore no shirt underneath the sleeveless chest plate whose leather had learned every indentation, curved its way tightly around his muscular body. His arms were bare, and carved with protruding muscles that I was so unprepared for seeing. Lastly, there was a smug smirk that wouldn't leave his lips. And his eyes wouldn't leave mine.
I felt my face light up with a rush of blood to my cheeks, so I quickly refocused my attention. I looked left and then right, my fellow warriors were whispering to one another. Astonishment had shaken the room greatly.
"What's going on?" I asked one of the smart, scrawny warriors that stood beside me.
After glancing at me skeptically, he answered, "Commander Quinn never comes to training."
Zhao cleared her throat, slowly bringing the room's wayward attention back to her. "Today, we'll be doing partnered matches, working on technique and overall strength."
Though it seemed everyone was paying close attention, I still heard whispers, but they were very discreet about it, knowing they were walking a thin wire without their full attention on Zhao.
"And we have a new recruit, Amelie Ambrose," Zhao explained. Every eye turned to me, and my skin felt like it wanted to cave under that pressure. "Make her feel welcome. And be sure you help her out, she'll need a partner."
The room tried to mask their disappointment. I knew that it had nothing to do with me, no one liked having to help out the new girl. Especially when she'd acted nothing short of hostile toward them since she'd been there.
Christian held up his hand, and the room fell silent. "She'll train with me," he stated.
Just when I thought my cheeks couldn't flush in a deeper shade of red, they did. And just when I thought the stares and whispers couldn't have been worse, the room erupted in a wave of chatter, no longer trying to keep it surreptitious.
"The mat is yours, partner up," ordered Zhao, and the line broke apart immediately. I followed slowly, approaching the bastard who was descending the dais to approach me.
My stride was broken, and a shudder ran through me from the unexpected brush of shoulders as a couple of guys rushed by me. They were a couple of the all-brawn, no-brain warriors. I knew they'd run into me on purpose, their spiteful glares told me so.
"Bet she's fucking the commander," one of the guys said to the other, and they both laughed.
"Whore," the last guy added under his breath, in accordance with what the others were going on about.
In frustration and disgust, I could feel the anger rising beneath my skin. I couldn't keep myself from going after them, but I had no clue what to say.
But before I could reach them, before I could speak or explode, someone's strong shoulder casually ran into the last guy that'd spoken, which stopped them all in their tracks.
A daring flash of teeth was all that I saw as if it were masking the anger that expressed itself through his body language.
The guys tried to push past him, but as if it were through pure energy, they took a step back, and then another, with their daunting superior honing in on them.
"Men," his chilling voice growled. "I will bleed you dry if any of you so much as look in her direction again. Do you understand me?"
I swallowed. I could feel the threat even from where I stood. It was rather unnecessary, I knew that I could've handled the situation myself. But the griping and yelling I would have done wouldn't have been nearly as effective.
The guys looked up at him, either in terror or shock, I couldn't tell at that point. "Yes sir," the three men uttered, then were quickly on their way.
Christian watched them as they left, then turned back to me, and his charismatic demeanor was back in an instant.
"Ambrose," he greeted, not at all trying to hide it when his eyes trailed me up and down. Then up and down again.
I crossed my arms. "I don't need you to stand up for me. That was very unnecessary."
"They insulted you." His tone was serious, then lightened up as he cocked his head. "I won't tolerate another getting under your skin. Only I can do that."
Without fail. Frustratedly, I sighed. "Bleed them dry? That was a bit dramatic, don't you think?"
"Do you enjoy being insulted?"
"I think the biggest insult to me was assuming that I was another fool eager to spread my legs for you," I hissed. He had a way of making me angrier than even the three guys had.
Those eyes staring back into mine darkened. "You would if I told you to."
I swallowed. I wondered if he knew that he was right. That even though it stood against everything that I was, everything that I believed in, I'd be his fool, if he asked.
He inched forward so subtly, but I decided to stand my ground. I wanted more than anything to wipe the smirk off of his lips. I could feel the warmth of his body, unable to take my eyes off him.
Daringly, he added, "You're not denying it."
I scoffed and pushed him away from me. "You're so full of yourself."
Christian regained his stance before me, for he never really lost it in the first place. He had chuckled, because he found everything amusing, but I realized shortly after that it was the first time I'd heard that genuine laugh from him.
After a glance around the room, he suggested, "We should get to training."
"What if I do not want to train with you?" I asked boldly while taking a step back, realizing I'd been given no other choice. However, the thought in the back of my mind pressed on me. It would have been a great excuse to punch him. With humor, I told him, "I have a reputation to proceed, you know?"
"Your reputation, darling," mocked Christian, "is well on its way to ruin dressed like that." His eyes trailed my poor attempt at putting the leather armor on correctly.
I felt nothing but insulted. Fully out of spite I quickly tried to situate myself and straighten the armor, but no matter what I did, I only seemed to make it worse, growing more and more frustrated with it and him.
"Here," offered Christian, noticing that my attempts were hopeless. "Let me." He took to my armor before I could object, forcing me to do away with my apprehension.
He readjusted and moved some of the armor, tightened ties, and cinched straps. I watched him and how focused he was, how human he seemed in that moment.
"Do you still hate me?" he asked to fill the gap of silence so present between the two of us. "Still my captive?"
He jerked at my armor when he spoke, which pulled me closer to him. The expression on his face was serious, no trace of that arrogance to be found.
I glared up into eyes that were too focused on my armor to notice. "I'm still here, aren't I?"
"Why are you so hell-bent on returning to your life in poverty?" he asked coldly. It was a genuine question, not to be unserious, not to simply keep a conversation going.
"Because that is where my family is. They rely on me so much, they need me there."
"And have you ever thought that maybe what you deserve is to finally do something for yourself?"
I smiled to myself as those eyes finally met mine. "See, that's the difference between you and I, between my village and this palace. Everyone here is willing to let the rest of the world suffer while chasing what they think they deserve, feeding their avarice. At least in the poverty of our village we still have humanity and humility."
The male standing before me listened intently while tightening the chest plate I had put on backward. His lips were a line with the slightest curve. "And what you fail to see is that I couldn't agree with you more."
"You're right, I fail to see it." My agreeing with him caught him off guard. "Because you say one thing, yet I see another."
His eyes trailed over mine. "And what do you see?"
I returned his gaze. "I see a conceited bastard."
He wasn't in the least bit surprised by my answer, the smirk spreading to his lips told me so. Christian continued, "What you see is only the surface."
"And what's beneath, is it any better than the surface?" I asked him, curious as to how he would answer.
A simple response, something I would have expected of him. "I guess you'll just have to find out."
I rolled my eyes with a light sigh. I didn't want more things to have to find out, I wanted to be able to know all of his thoughts, pick them apart, to understand them.
I continued watching him. My arms dangled at my sides to stay out of his way. I felt so small, so moveable as every time he pulled at the armor it seemed to draw me closer to him.
There was no way to know if he actually agreed with me, or if he was just saying that. I didn't fail to see it, I just failed to believe it just yet. I didn't have the desire to argue with him further about it.
I was still his captive, and it seemed there wasn't anything I could have said or done to convince him to take me home. Yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that something else waited for me in this palace, I just wasn't sure what it was.
An unexpected feeling danced through me as a large hand took hold of my side securely. "Turn around for me," he instructed, doing most of it for me through the grip he had as I turned on my heels. Christian situated the armor correctly, tightening the lace once more, making sure that it was satisfactory. I could feel his presence behind me, our bodies almost touching. If we weren't in a crowded room I could have melted.
That hand snaked around my side, around my hip bone to turn me back to face him. Again, I was unprepared for the spark that danced down my spine. I wanted to kick myself for it.
"Have you eaten today?" he questioned, checking the ties of the leather on my forearms.
"Yes," I answered, then impatiently sighed. "Are you done yet?" I could hardly stand still, fidgeting with my fingers and toes.
"You have no patience, do you?"
"Very little," I replied.
"You know, Ambrose," he started, then unexpectedly knelt to one knee before me, moving on to fixing the armor around my thighs. "You look lovely from this angle—"
"Are you mad?" I immediately took hold of his arm and pulled at him, though I knew my strength alone wasn't going to do much. "You bastard, would you stand up."
He looked up at me with those blue eyes and that damn smirk, and hesitantly stood back up. He knew exactly what he was doing.
I left him standing there on his own to approach the mat on the dais where the rest of the warriors had already started their training session.