Shards

Chapter 7 - Strategies

I am dressed in my simple light pink dress and Jurian’s dressed in his fancy uniform, the one he uses only for special occasions. It’s navy blue – the same colour as my book – and has several red and purple ribbons attached here and there. It’s the uniform that signalises that something’s going on, generally not a good sign for the other armies. Otherwise he wears his green-brown uniform (which he uses for combat) or just normal clothes. I have my own uniform sown for me, almost identical to Jurian’s if not for the skirt. But I don’t wear it. I look like a child stuck in its mother’s clothes during dress-up games. So I stick to my normal clothes.

  “Why don’t you wear your uniform?” Jurian asks me for the fortieth time.

  “It doesn’t suit me.”

  “Why’s that?” Jurian’s bemused.

  “It’s too formal. I look like a little kid in it.”

  “Because you’re still a kid.”

  “So are you.”

  “Only for you, hun, only for you,” he says. The corners of my lips lift instinctively.

  “Only for me,” I echo.

  “Let’s go.”

  We leave our house. We don’t go to the conference room this time. We near the bridge but we don’t go to the park. We change direction. I don’t remember ever going there but I don’t mind. Jurian appears to know the place very well.

  We stand in front of a house. It’s quite simple but very tall. It’s in a secluded area, its walls white and the garden large. The garden has a few mannequins and targets.

  Jurian opens the gate and presses the bell to the house. I can’t hear the bell from the inside. It’s silent. But before I know it the door opens, Melecio standing there dressed in his uniform pants and an undershirt.

  “You could’ve arrived a bit later. I was only getting dressed now,” for the first time I hear Melecio annoyed. “Come in.”

  Melecio’s uniform is a bit different from Jurian’s. It’s a lighter colour, shouting into one’s eyes. The formal uniform is the same for the rest of the guys. Only Jurian’s (and mine) are different.

  We step inside the house. It’s simple and rather meek, decorated in bright colours, making Jurian’s uniform stand out more than usual.

  Melecio leads us to a living room. It has similar sofas as the conference place and beige curtains and white shiny floors which mirror everything else in the room. An angular coffee table is also there in the middle of the sofas circling it. Jurian sits down on one of the sofas and I do the same.

  “Mind waiting a minute?” Melecio holds one of his fingers up and disappears off to somewhere.

  “He seems annoyed,” I comment.

  “We came in at the worst time possible,” Jurian doesn’t hide his amusement. “He doesn’t like people seeing more of him than his clean outside image. He was always like that, neat and collected. He’ll be all right.”

  “That’s quite similar to you,” I say. All words echo in the living room. It smells of a new house and vanilla.

  “Would you like some tea?” Melecio’s tone is calm now, as usual.

  “Yeah,” Jurian replies.

  “Yes, please.” I echo him. Melecio disappears off again to arrive with a porcelain tea set, painted with roses. I glance at Jurian and shift slightly closer to him. I can’t smell the roses; the smell became overtaken by a more masculine smell, clean and formal.