Farryn

Chapter 3- Part 3

Farryn's heart skipped a beat, and she looked up. It was dark, and she couldn't see the face of the figure standing in front of her.

"I'm just-"

"Who the hell are you?" the figure demanded. They lunged, grabbing her arm. 

"Don't touch me!" Farryn yelped. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she couldn't move. "Let me go!"

"Answer the question," the voice hissed, as the person tightened their grip. Farryn kicked out, hard, and felt her heel connect with their knee. They folded, hissing in pain, and Farryn scrambled away, pulling herself to stand.

"Leave me alone!" she whisper-yelled. "Or I'll scream."

"Scream!?" the voice said. It sounded male. "You're the one acting suspicious! Sneaking around, asking strange questions-" they straightened and stepped forward, letting the moonlight streaming in through a window illuminate their face.

It was the boy who had been sweeping in the kitchens only a moment ago. He wore a dirty apron, and his hair was tousled and greasy. He couldn't have been much older than Farryn, though he was certainly taller. Staring at Farryn, he looked furious, almost enraged.

Farryn unwittingly stepped back. What's his problem? She lowered her gaze. "I was just curious. I've heard lots of stories about the-"

"Curious!?" he snapped. "A strange new girl wanders into the manor, asking questions. Wanting to know about people."

"Why do you care!?" she hissed back at him, trying to step back, to get out. But she was cornered, and he looked like he had no intention of moving.

"Get out of my way. Iris is waiting for me and-"

"What will she say when she learns you've been sneaking around? Hmm? Twice today. I saw you myself." Farryn kept quiet, trying to plan an escape. She could kick him again- somewhere sensitive- and make a run for it, but then he'd tell others. She needed to make him believe her.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. "I heard the stories, and I knew everyone was talking about it... I just wanted some way to make friends. Gossip is supposed to bring people together."

"No. You knew that girl," the boy said. "You knew her and you're looking for her. Why?"

Farryn didn't say anything. "Answer me! Who are you!? Why are you here?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she blurted out.

The boy just scoffed. "You expect me to believe that, with all the questions you just asked? Who was that Surqi- that blonde killer- and how do you know her?"

"I don't know!" Farryn cried, bursting into tears. They came easy, and the boy was taken aback as she blubbered away. He stepped back, but he still wouldn't back off. 

"I don't believe it. Don't believe you. And if you don't tell the truth, I'll march upstairs and have you thrown in the cellar."

"You can't do anything. You're just a kitchen boy," Farryn said, wiping her face. "Lady Trison trusts no one. She'll throw you out if I give her even the smallest reason to suspect you-"

"And you think she'll trust you? What if I report you?"

The two of them stared at one another. Farryn stood, silent even as her mind raced. He'd figured it all out. Most of it, anyway. Stupid. She'd let her shock get the best of her, had asked too many questions.

"Why do you want to find her," she asked, dropping all pretence. The boy's face hardened, and he clenched his fists.

"To kill her."