I Pray to Gold

Two

The atmosphere in the library was thick with tension, the soft glow of the moonlight casting elongated shadows across the room, mingling with the faint flicker of candles. Orin lounged against the bay window, the cool glass at his back and the city's lights sprawling beyond. He kept his posture casual, deceptively at ease, with his legs stretched out before him and his fingers laced behind his head. But every movement, every glance was calculated; he was acutely aware of the unspoken standoff between them.

Mel stood several feet away, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, a silent barrier that spoke volumes. Her expression was composed, but her eyes were sharp and watchful, every bit the predator she had trained herself to be. Yet beneath that veneer of control, Orin could sense the unease—the distrust and a flicker of fear that she desperately tried to conceal. She didn't fully know who he was or what he was capable of, and it unsettled her.

The silence between them stretched, filled only by the distant sounds of the city and the faint rustle of her gown as she shifted her weight, never fully relaxing. Orin's mismatched eyes tracked her movements without making it too obvious, taking note of the subtle ways she positioned herself, always keeping a safe distance, always ready for anything. It was clear: she didn't trust him, and he didn't blame her. He was an intruder in her carefully controlled world, a wild card that disrupted her sense of security.

But he wasn't here to fight or threaten—not tonight, at least. He needed to bring her guard down, if only slightly, to get what he wanted. And if there was one thing Orin had learned in the cutthroat world of the Undercity, it was that control wasn't always about physical power. Sometimes, it was about patience, charm, and playing the part.

"You wanted to talk, so let's talk, Councilor Medarda," Orin hummed, his voice smooth and unbothered as he adjusted his position slightly, leaning further back into the window frame. He kept his movements slow and deliberate, making sure she saw that he wasn't reaching for a weapon or making any sudden gestures that might set her off. The last thing he wanted was to give her a reason to panic—or worse, lash out.

Orin's posture was deliberately relaxed, almost lazy, as he stretched his arms behind his head, his muscles flexing beneath his worn clothes. It was a subtle display, one meant to project confidence without direct aggression. He wanted her to see that he wasn't afraid, but more importantly, he wanted her to think he was comfortable enough in her presence to let his guard down. Whether she believed it or not was another matter, but appearances were everything in a game like this.

"I'm sure we can make a pretty good deal," he added, his tone light, almost teasing. He watched her carefully, gauging her reaction, waiting to see if his relaxed demeanor would coax her into lowering her defenses, even if just a little.

"And what kind of deal would someone like... you desperately want to make?" Mel's voice cut through the tension like a blade, her tone laced with skepticism as she gestured at him dismissively, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Orin met her eyes, his own expression a mix of annoyance and amusement, before rolling his eyes at the thinly veiled insult.

"A good one. A pretty damn good one, if you ask me," he replied, his voice carrying a casual nonchalance that contrasted sharply with the gravity of his words. He shifted slightly, letting his head fall back until his neck bent over the curve of the bay window. His mismatched eyes found the sprawling view of Piltover beyond the glass—a city glittering with wealth, power, and everything he and his people had been denied. The sight of it only fueled the bitterness that simmered beneath his calm facade.