Rhea had thought Atlas was joking when he said he was going to make her a servant. But the next day, she was awoken by Phoebe who had been instructed to ‘train’ her. According to the redhead, Atlas had said that all members of the resistance who lived at the mansion acted as servants to not draw suspicion, so she too had to learn to play the part.

The first thing Phoebe made her do was, surprisingly, combat training of all things. She said that her fight with Atlas at the warehouse had been sloppy and that if she had a demon she should learn how to use it properly. And so, at the crack of dawn, the two sparred. Well, it was more like Phoebe kicked her ass while giving her pointers.

After Rhea was sufficiently sore and beaten, they made their way to the kitchen where the redhead showed her how to prepare breakfast. Admittedly, Rhea was not the best cook, and Phoebe’s patience was limited. After the fourth burnt egg in a row, the second-in-command grumbled “Let me do it” and “Useless” under her breath. Ultimately, Rhea was instructed to make toast, and Phoebe made a note to never put Rhea on kitchen duty.

Next, she was shown how to sweep the leaves from the entryway. Since it was almost fall, reddish-orange and yellow leaves had drifted their way onto the estate’s porch. Rhea was promptly handed a broom and told to get to work. That, the researcher could handle easily enough. Compared to the other tasks, this one was relatively straightforward. She swept the leaves into a pile in the corner of the massive porch where another servant disposed of them.

To Rhea’s surprise, she didn’t hate the work. Maybe it was because she was sickly as a child, or maybe it was because her own family was also well-off, but she never got to experience things like doing chores while growing up. She always had someone taking care of her and hardly knew how to do anything for herself.

The few years living alone were a struggle. She never had anyone to teach her even the most basic of things. When she served her own master, she only did research-related tasks. She never did cooking, cleaning, laundry, or anything of the sort.

So even though the redhead was ordering her around and making her do work, Rhea felt a strange sense of gratitude towards the other woman. The two talked as they completed the chores, joking around, making small talk, and complaining about Atlas. Rhea found it rather nice, almost like making a friend. Even though that friend was practically forced to hang out with her.

“Do you really not mind being a servant?” Rhea asked her after they had conversed for a while.

They were sitting in a small, cramped room, camping in front of the washer waiting to change loads of laundry. The machine rattled softly in the quiet space. Throughout the day, they had gotten a little more comfortable in each other’s presence. Even though there was still some distrust, it was nice just to have someone to talk to.

“Not really. I live, eat, and sleep here for free. The boss only asks that I do a few chores, and he still pays me on top of that. He felt guilty at first, but most of us resistance fighters are just grateful,” Phoebe answered honestly.

“Grateful?”

“Grateful that there’s someone with some semblance of power willing to make a stand. Most of the elite couldn’t care less about us, but as much as I hate to admit it, the resistance wouldn’t be able to accomplish nearly as much without someone like Atlas. He’s a good guy,” she admitted.

“I see… Why did you join the resistance, anyway? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Honestly, at first, I didn’t care much about it. Atlas found me on the streets downtown and offered me a home. I swore to follow him ever since. It wasn’t any more complicated than that,” Phoebe explained.

“I think he was uncomfortable at first,” she continued. “He didn’t want me to feel like I owed him. But I insisted, and as I got to know more of the resistance fighters, the struggles they went through, and the pain they experienced because of the Church, I knew that I was doing the right thing.”

“...That’s… nice…” Rhea said softly, oddly sincere.

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“They became like family to me, and I was happy to fight for my family,” Phoebe finished.

Silently to herself, Rhea wondered if she ever did the right thing a single time in her life. It seemed like any time she had to make a decision for herself, she picked the worst possible option. She had been isolated for as long as she could remember. Her own family had betrayed her, and even when there were others around her, she always felt alone. What was it like to have a family? To have someone to care about? To have someone care about you?

Deep down, she knew she had experienced the feeling before. She just didn’t want to admit it. And a few days ago, it had resurfaced again. Honestly, it scared her. All of the things she did to get to the current point in her life, and she never felt guilty until she was staring into those gray eyes that seemed to pierce right through her.

He wanted her to be better, and a part of her wanted to be better for him. But she couldn’t. That would make her weak. It would make her vulnerable again. He betrayed you once before already, she had to remind herself. But it hurt, her head and her heart pulling her to opposite ends.

She knew that Atlas had to have been the one to tell someone about her mother’s murder. That he was most likely the reason her father tried to poison her. Yet she had no desire to confront him about it. She should be furious. She should hate him. But she didn’t. Even now, when he was keeping her as a prisoner, she didn’t hate him. That also scared her.

If that was the case, then he could do almost anything and it would be impossible for her to hate him. And that meant that there was a chance for the reverse to be true… but no, she didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to be stuck with the worst version of her. Why couldn’t she just stay the precious girl in his memories of their childhood? It would have been for the best if they hadn’t met again.

Having dug herself into a bitter mood, Rhea was reluctant when she was summoned to Atlas’s office later that day. She could tell from the second she entered that the other was feeling mischievous. But she didn’t want to entertain it, as much as her heart fought against it. I should just keep him at arm’s length. It’s better for both of us, she thought.

“Rhea! How is life as a servant?” he cheekily inquired.

He was sitting behind an ornate wooden desk, piles of papers stacked up nearly obscuring him from view. Regal bookshelves lined the walls on either side, and the wall behind him was covered in floor-to-ceiling windows. He looked very much the part of a young aristocrat, except that he was slightly disheveled and appeared exhausted, judging by the bags under his eyes. The weariness even shone through his playful demeanor.

“It sucks,” Rhea pouted. “I got dirt all over my clothes cleaning up this hellhole.”

“I could always lend you one of the maid uniforms if you want,” he jokingly told her.

“I would rather… never mind,” she sighed. “What do you want?”

“What? I can’t just check in on my favorite prisoner?” he asked innocently.

“No.”

“Alright, I’ll be honest. I noticed my office had gotten a little dusty and thought you were the perfect person to clean it.”

“... I’m leaving.”

“Stop! I was kidding,” he laughed, before suddenly growing quiet. “I just wanted someone to keep me company.”

“There are a billion people in this house, can’t you talk to one of them?” she asked incredulously.

“I don’t want to talk to them. I wanted to talk to you, although I’m starting to second-guess that,” he replied. “Please, just sit down. We used to be friends, can’t we chat?”

Rhea made her way from the door, closing it behind her, to one of the plush seats in front of the desk at a dreadfully slow pace. She was moving as if there were weights attached to her ankles. Finally, she sat down, Atlas staring at her the whole way. It seemed like he had merely called her there on a whim, without actually having any sort of plan.

Once she took a seat, the resistance leader was at a loss for words. He was usually a smooth-talker with a lot to say, but right now he was as quiet as a mouse. It appeared he hadn’t thought that far ahead. Rhea began to fidget uncomfortably before standing back up abruptly.

“Yeah, this is too awkward,” she grumbled before walking some distance away.

Atlas looked concerned for a brief second, afraid the other was going to leave. Instead, Rhea picked up a duster off the floor and began to dust one of the bookshelves without another word. For a moment, Atlas was too stunned to say anything.

“You really don’t have to-”

“Shhhh. You said you wanted company. That doesn’t mean we have to talk,” she said quietly.

The room fell into silence once more, but this time it was comfortable. Rhea occasionally hummed a tune under her breath, and Atlas vaguely recognized it as a LIA song. He chuckled for a moment before quietly returning to his paperwork. Somehow, he felt less tired than he did a few moments ago. Time passed this way for a while, the setting sun piercing through the large windows and painting the room in a warm orange glow.

“Hey, Rhea?” Atlas spoke up sometime later.

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember when we were kids, and I was at your bedside, and you told me you knew you were going to die? You said there were things you still wanted to do, so you asked me to do them for you instead?”

“...Yeah.”

“Do you still remember the last thing you said you wanted to do?”

Rhea froze, suddenly pausing her actions and swallowing hard.

“I don’t remember… but I think… I said…” she trailed off, not wanting to speak the words. Not wanting to believe it was real.

“You said you wanted to destroy the Church of Solomon. You said you wanted to make them pay for their sins,” he told her.

She turned to him, laughing as she realized. At that moment, she couldn’t stop smiling.

“You really are an idiot.”