Broken Glass [h.s.]

three

Dove

I stare right into Styles's eyes from across the table, my fingers playing with the piece of bread that he has just thrown at me. "Just so you know" I say, "If you happen to get shot, I'll leave you to die."

"I'm sure your parents would fancy that" he replies smirking, taking his knife and tapping the blade against the table nonchalantly.

"I hate you" I tell him just as his father and the two other mysterious men sit down at the table.

"No reason to get feisty, now."

I turn to look at Des Styles as soon as he speaks.

"Yes, Sir" I reply, knowing better than to argue with him now that he's on my side.

"The plan is easy. You'll use those tunnels to take Harry out of Wintermore. Once you're out, you'll have to take him to the house, and stay with him until further notice. When things will be cleared up here, I'll contact you and you'll be able to take him back" he says, before drinking a glass of some kind of dark fancy wine. He looks at me. "Of course, if something were to happen to him, I'd no longer be held responsible of what will happen to your parents."

I gulp at the veiled threat, and I hear Styles snicker.

"You don't seem that worried, to be someone with a death threat casted right against them." I tell him, and my words wipe the smile off his face.

"But I'm still alive, aren't I?"

"Not for long" I hiss to him, and he glares at me.

"Are you planning to murder me, Dove Winters?" He asks me as he takes a piece of bread and starts playing with it.

"I'm surely considering it" I reply.

"She's just kidding" I hear Des Styles say to the two other men, who are looking at me suspiciously. "I'm sure she'll do everything she can to keep my son alive" he adds, his voice harder to remind me of my job.

I don't say anything, deciding to completely ignore the situation.

"Is dinner gonna come?" Mr Styles wonders, before taking a little silver bell that is right in front of him and shaking it. "Servant!"

A young girl wearing a white, dirty dress comes into the room, almost rushing inside, not wanting to anger her master. She stands a meter away from the table, bowing in sign of respect.

"When will our food be ready?" Mr Styles asks.

"It should be here in ten minutes, Sir" she replies, and walks away fast as soon as she's dismissed.

"Max, how are you finding my mansion?" He asks to one of the men.

The one called Max, that I remember was standing on my right when I first met Styles, is fast to reply. "You have a lovely house, Sir. It's a honour to be sitting here."

Mr Styles nods, appreciating the reply. "These dishes come straight from China, I have to say they cost way more than you could ever afford."

Max doesn't reply, and for a few minutes the silence reigns over the table.

"How long is the trip expected to be, Mr Styles?" I ask curiously. The less time I spend with Styles, the better.

"Two weeks at the best, Miss Winters. That, only if you manage to get into the tunnels during the night of the fourth day, which is quite hard, I might say."

"Why would that be hard?" The other man asks.

"Simply, because you'll be arriving there during the day" Mr Styles replies leaning back against his seat.

"What if we walk also during the night?" Max suggests.

"My friend, are you really considering walking around in the moon territory during the night? The darkness is their kingdom, they'll be everywhere."

As the exchange goes on, my gaze flicks to Styles. He's sipping his glass of wine, completely uninterested in what's going on around him. I shake my head in disappointment, going back to the conversation.

"I heard they walk around wearing cloaks with hoods, so that nobody will be able to recognise them" I say.

Max looks at me. "That's true, Miss. They keep the weapons under the cloak as well, so that nobody will ever know if the person attacking them is armed and how is armed. It's quite smart, if you think of it."

"So we could do the same" I suggest.

"Oh no no, never" says the other man, that was sporting a wispy grey beard, as the food arrives, "I've heard that they all have a system of key words to know who's part of their group and who isn't."

"Those are only legends, nothing verified" Max says, "I think we could give it a try."

"I'll have you know that if this little plan of yours results in the death of my son, yours will be following suit" Mr Styles tells us glacially as a few servants rush in bringing our steaming food. "Now what's there to eat?"

I look down at the steak with potatoes that is on my plate. It's pure luxury, I haven't eaten something as good for the last ten years at least.

We eat in silence, none of us willing to say anything more.

"I think it's time for you guys to bond. It's better to be friends than enemies" Mr Styles says standing up and leaving the room without another word, clapping twice to let the two bodyguards that are waiting for him know that he's leaving.

We stare at each other as the door gets shut loudly, not knowing what to say.

"I have no interest in the conversation that's about to take place. If you'll excuse me" Styles says, standing up and walking out as well.

I stare after him, shocked by his incredibly rude behaviour.

"Don't think about it too much, Miss Winters. Mr Styles has always been a bit difficult" Max says.

"Have you known him for long?" I ask him.

"Just some years. He'll be easier to deal with as time goes on."

I nod. "If you'll excuse me, I'm quite tired, and I'd like to get ready for tomorrow" I say, making my way out of the door.

• • •

As soon as I get into my room I lock the door to make sure I won't have any disturbances - that may go by the to me now dreadful name of Harry Styles - during the night.
However, as I hear a soft knock on my door, I realise it won't be that easy at all.

I try to ignore it, then I also try to tell them to go away, but it's no use, as they seem to have no intention of leaving. Sighing, I stand up from the bed and go to the door to open it. As soon as I unlock it, it swings open.

I glare at the person on the other side, that is leaning against the frame on the door with a little smirk on his face.

"Styles, what an honour" I say glacially.