Something Peculiar

2.13

The debris had been cleared from the ballroom, much to Inguk’s chagrin, but the skylights were still covered with tarps. Inguk had liked having all the junk around because it gave me something to practice on, but he decided that the tarps would be easier anyway.

Mino had stayed away today. I think his brain was getting frazzled from me playing around with it. Since he sometimes got hit with stray brain waves when I tried too hard, we all thought it’d be best if he hung around somewhere else for a while.

I’d been trying for hours to get one of the tarps to move, and all I’d managed was a ripple across it. Even that was questionable. Inguk said it was probably me, but I suspected it was a strong gust of wind blowing across it.

My head was actually starting to hurt, and I felt like a jackass holding my arms up in the air, pushing at nothing.

“Nothing’s happening.” I sighed and dropped my arms.

“Try harder,” Inguk replied. He lay on the floor near me, his arms folded neatly beneath his head.

“I can’t try any harder.” I sat down on the floor with an unladylike thud, but I knew Inguk wouldn’t care. I had a feeling he barely even noticed I was a girl. “I’m not trying to whine here, but are you sure I can even do this?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Well, what if I give myself an aneurysm trying to do something I can’t even do?” I asked.

“You won’t,” he said simply. He lifted an arm up, and holding his palm out, he made the tarp above him lift up and strain against the bungee cords holding it down. It settled down, and he looked over at me. “Do that.”

“Can I take a break?” I asked, almost pleading with him. My head had started to sweat, and stray curls were sticking to my temples.

“If you must.” He lowered his arm and folded it behind his head again. “If you’re really having a hard time with this, maybe you need to work up to it more. Tomorrow you can practice on Mino again.”

“No, I don’t wanna practice on him.” I pulled my knee up to my chest and rested my cheek against it. “I don’t want to break him.”

“What about Wooseok?” Tove asked. “Can you practice on him?”

“No. He’s completely out of the question.” I picked at a spot on the marble floor and thought for a minute. “I don’t want to practice on people.”

“It’s the only way you’ll get good at it,” Tove said.

“I know, but…” I sighed. “Maybe I don’t want to be good at it. I mean, controlling it, yes, I want to be good at that. But I don’t want to be able to use mind control on anyone. Even bad people. It doesn’t feel right to me.”

"I understand that." He sat up, crossing his legs underneath him as he turned to face me. "But learning to harness your power isn’t a bad thing."

"I’m stronger than Mino, right?"

"Yes, of course." Inguk nodded.

"Then why is Mino guarding me?" I asked. "If I’m more powerful."

"Because he’s more expendable," Tove replied simply. I must’ve looked appalled because Inguk hurried to explain. "That’s the way the Queen sees it. The way Trylle society sees it. And… if I’m being really honest, I agree with them."

"You can’t really believe that my life has more value simply because I’m a Princess?" I asked. "The trackers are living in squalor, and we expect them to die for us."

"They’re not living in squalor, but you’re right. The system is totally messed up," Inguk said. "Trackers are born into a lifetime of debt simply because they’re born here, and not left somewhere out in the world collecting an inheritance. They are indentured servants, which is just a polite name for slaves. And that is not right at all."