The Monarch

The Agreement

In the morning Bridgette is silent and empty of emotion. Her ears are lowered yet her face is blank, her eyes holding images of her nightmare.

The cook was talking to Victor at the front of the crate. "H-his voice.. I-I sw-swear I heard his voice!" He cries out.

Bridgette turns to look at him and crawls to where he is. She taps Victors shoulder.

The cook had turned to work on breakfast, cooking for thirty taking more time than for ten. Victor looks out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to move his neck. "Wh-what?"

"Shhh.... It's okay..." She grabs his hand "I'm the one that helped you, don't worry... But please tell me..." She looks up at him. "What happened...?"

He keeps looking at her, studying her face, his own terrified. "A-a fox man.. he snuck up on me a-and a-asked what I k-knew! He didn't answer my qu-questions! H-he wanted t-to kill me..."

Bridgette nods slowly "Its okay... he won't hurt you anymore I promise..."

He closes his eyes, nodding slightly.

She lets go of his hand and crawls back to her spot in the cage. She begins thinking about Alek, and for a fleeting moment she wonders if he even misses her.

The cook finishes feeding the guards, bringing the bowl and pot to the crate. He hands off the pot to the others, raspberry preserves mixed in. He hands her today's bowl, fruit and brown sugar with honey. "How are you today?"

Bridgette looks down and doesn't take the bowl. She holds her knees to her chest. "Why do you talk to me...?"

"Hm? What do you mean by that?" He places the bowl by her.

"Aren't guards supposed to ignore us and treat us rudely? That's what all the other guards do. But you feed everyone good food. And you don't even talk to any other slave you only talk to me." She hits over the bowl, still looking at him "... It's weird."

"I spoke to that kid." He tries.

She glares and pouts. "That doesn't count."

"And why not? He's just as much of a person as you." The cook folds his arms.

"I mean it's not an excuse!" She throws her hands up and drops them down in frustration. "Why am I the only one you talk to? That kid was a one time thing, but this is like all the time! And it makes me more suspicious when Victor teased you about it!"

"I talk to you because if I spoke to anyone else they would spit on my armor." The cook sighs. "Of course, mostly to get you to eat. I can't have anyone dying on my watch."

Bridgette rolls her eyes "Oh yeah wouldn't want your armor ruined." She pouts "And I'm NOT going to die, or eat."

"Well if you want to be sold into a good household, you need to be in good shape. Besides, you're enjoyable to talk to." The cook stands straighter. "More than the other guards. Except Victor, but he's not one for talking right now."

"...." Bridgette thinks for a moment. "No I don't. If I'm in good shape someone will put me to work or study me. Either way I'm probably getting sold to the scholars." Her ears lower "And how am I enjoyable to talk to?" She glares.

"I find your attitude towards me humorous."

"What?! HUMOROUS?! I just don't like you! I like everyone here. Except you. Because you're creepy." She glares and sticks her tongue out at him.

"You'll laugh about this later." He chuckles lightly. "Honestly when I explain it, you'll just laugh! Or scold me, but either way."

"SEE THAT'S WHAT I MEAN THAT DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE! Why won't you explain now then?!"

The cook stops, placing a hand on the front of his helmet. "You know what, tomorrow is the halfway mark of our trip, I'll tell you then."

Bridgette growls and folds her arms laying back against the side, yet satisfied she will know tomorrow.

"Well then my lady, till tomorrow." He laughs to himself, walking out and locking the cart.

Bridgette stops. She has a memory of Alek and shakes her head. "No no no..." She shoves away the thought and looks at the other slaves.

A few had their heads tilted towards Bridgette, questioning her relationship to the cook. The cook, however takes off his helmet and grins, excited for tomorrow.

Her cheeks burn red a bit and she turns away from them, trying to hide her embarrassment yet just making it worse.

The cook cleans up the supplies, grunting as he lifts the pots over his shoulders. The leading guard starts them off, and they walk.

Bridgette decides to sleep a bit, feeling she has no use during the day. Or night really.

******

A/N: HEHEHE HALFWAY POINT. THE HALFWAY POINT.

L/N: Lol, that moment when you're listening to Dogsong from Undertale and find everything hilarious...