Inheritance

Part 2 Chapter 38: Practical

Pollyanna unabashedly curled up next to Eory and draped a dark-skinned arm over his stomach. Eory, who had been looking up at the ceiling, turned on his side and met her eyes, "why are you tempting me when it could result in your death?"

Pollyanna snorted with a remorseful smile. "I'm not tempting you... Even I start to miss physical contact after awhile; won't you grant this lonely old soldier a small boon?"

Eory wondered what her intentions were by clinging to him and giving him those bedroom eyes...

He wondered whether she was telling him the truth.

Could it be that she was truly lonely? Could it be that this woman, who had skin made of iron, had a heart that still ached for company beneath?

Or perhaps she was just looking for someone to have fun with after being alone for so long.

Her sudden recklessness—the fact that she didn't care whether she lived or died—disturbed him. The fact that, for a moment, he didn't care whether she lived or died disturbed him all-the-more.

He tried to ignore the passions boiling within him even now.

Eory's wondered aloud. "Would you really not care if I killed you here and now?"

A mischievousness smile adorned Pollyanna's face. "Oh, I would care... One of my dreams is to live forever, after all. I want to help create the greatest world possible while I live—a world where only the strong live. However, I have already left my mark on this world, which was my most desired dream of all. No soul will upon Yharos will ever forget that I existed. If I were to die here and now by you, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world—especially if it gave you that push you needed to become a true Arrozan."

Eory knew no words could convince her that slaughtering innocents and wishing for a world where the weak did not exist was wrong.

He knew there were conflicts in her way of thinking, however; conflicts he had exploited already and wanted to continue to exploit to help her see the truth.

Pollyanna was a logical, practical, and hard woman. Eory had to make her realize that her way of thinking wasn't so logical for her to see the light.

But first, he needed to understand her. He prompted her to continue once again.

Pollyanna obeyed. "I wasn't allowed to leave the manor for months. At the end of six months, however, I was able to gain his trust back, and I was able to leave when he dictated I could each day. I was sure Rory would have married some other girl by the time I finally got to see him again..."

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Pollyanna, now sixteen-years-old, headed out into the town with her hood up.

It had been so long since she had seen anyone other than the manor staff, Kline, and occasionally her mother, that she had become very nervous about seeing strangers.

She was sent out to town to run errands for Kline like she had in the past, and if she didn't come back in an hour, he would punish her.

She hurried.

She was a scared little girl again; whipped into a subservient, happy little slave through threats and violence. She was ordered to talk to no one but the butcher and the fisherman who were selling her proposed dinner for the night.

Some of the townsfolk recognized her and tried to greet her—they wanted to ask where she had been for the past few months—but she quickly sped past them before they could tell her more than a 'hello'.

The land was gray under blanketing clouds. Raindrops parted the dirt where they fell—creating tiny, thumb-sized puddles as they did so.

Pollyanna stepped inside the fisherman's shop and picked up a bass, and then turned toward the butcher's shop across the way.