“Jill, do you know where Avery and Tim went?” Roger asked, shaking my shoulder.

I ignored him while my bare feet met the wood. It reminded me of home, waking up with the sun beaming through the window as my toes touched the floor. And how could I not forget Roger’s or Tim’s voices? They were always the first thing I heard in the mornings.

My eyes felt heavier than usual. I sluggishly rubbed the corners of my eyes, which didn’t do much since they still felt like two heavy rocks. My hand immediately met my stiff neck. I wasn’t used to sleeping with a soft pillow. It left a small indent from where my head was. Man, I really sunk in.

Roger snapped his fingers close to my face. “Hello… Jill.” I fought the temptation to throw him out the window.

“What is it?” I hated my grumpy morning voice.

“Where the hell is Tim and Avery?”

“Do you think I sleep with my eyes open? How am I supposed to know? I just woke up. Give me a few.” I ran my fingers through my hair, which was all bunched up and unable to flow smoothly.

How annoying.

While Roger babbled, I tried to recall what happened. I couldn’t remember much besides my conversation with the king and walking to the fountain. But what happened after? How did I even end up at this place? I didn’t recall falling asleep, let alone sleeping on a bed.

“Roger,” I interrupted whatever he was saying, “How did we get here?”

“Do you have short-term memory loss? How don'tcha know?”

I gave him a blank stare. What more could I expect from someone who never took anything seriously?

“I’m kidding. You fell asleep on a bench, and I had to carry you here. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you're heavier than you look.”

My fists clenched onto the comforter.

I’m going to kill him.

Roger loved to poke nerves. One day, though, I’m going to kill him.

To switch the topic away from my weight, I asked something I was curious about. “So, what did you guys do yesterday?”

He shrugged. “Eh... nothing much. Avery and Tim went their separate ways, so I was alone with Owen. Well, I shouldn’t say ‘alone.’ Owen spoke to a few strangers and had decently long chats with them. Then we split up, and he did his thing while I did mine.”

“Is that so?” That statement piqued my interest. Owen wasn’t necessarily good at meeting new people. He could spark up a few lines, but he couldn’t keep a conversation going to save his life.

“Yeah, and he left me on the side.” Roger plopped next to me. For a second, I thought the mattress springs broke.

“Meaning?”

“He was talking to only women! He’s too frail to bargain with the trading clerk but can communicate with multiple women on the same night. Is he a magician?”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

I was no longer interested…

Besides, I've heard past stories of Owen speaking to women. He could sail into the sea but never keep the boat flowing.

Also, for the record, trading clerks even caused me to be timid. There’s something about their threatening stare while you gaze at their items. But looks were never shot at Roger, mainly because of his size.

He continued his rant, which I half-listened to until he caught my attention with a few words.

“Unlike you, these women were well-endowed—”

I smacked him across the face, tackling him onto the bed and squeezing my hands against his neck. My goal wasn’t to kill him. It was just to make him pass out. Ever since I woke up, he was nothing short of annoying.

While I was busy with Roger, the door fully swung open. “What did he do this time?” Owen, who stood by the door, patted his damp face with a cloth.

I got off Roger, smacked his face with a pillow, then leaned against the window. It was big enough for someone to jump through.

Roger lay on his back, gasping for air. “She tried to kill me.” He could hardly speak.

Owen threw the towel at the defenseless Roger. “Probably because you said something stupid.”

Even he sounded a tad irritated.

I threw a sharp look at Roger. “Damn right, he did.”

“What did he say?”

After a second thought, I didn’t want to repeat him.

“I commented about her size,” Roger exclaimed.

Owen looked puzzled, glancing at me for answers. A candle must’ve lit his face because his mouth widened like he was sipping through a gigantic straw.

“Yeah, no comment.”

“There better not be!”

“Jill, are you insecure about it? Don’t worry; it’s a judgment-free zone.”

“Shut up!” I threw a pillow at Roger.

***

I gazed out the window, watching everyday civilians walking the streets. It was much emptier than last night. The kids behaved more, holding onto their caretaker’s hand, ensuring they didn’t get lost. Merchants waddled their weight around, not giving a damn about the hungry. We were all outsiders, yet we all were so different. Was it like this in Ionia?

Maybe, maybe not. I pictured Ionia as a place where the concept of misery was lost. But after consulting with a phony SCAR agent, he made it seem like it wasn’t any better. Well, that’s because of SCAR. If that organization didn’t exist, outsiders wouldn’t, either. We’re here because SCAR wants us to.

While I stared out the window, I noticed two boys, who looked the same age as Tim and his friend, laughing as they walked wherever they desired. That’s right. Where were Tim and his friend? Were they roaming around Walisburg? Granted, the event ended, but it didn’t change what Walisburg was about.

“Don’t ruin the bed! I just made it!”

I turned my head around, discovering that Roger was under the covers.

Roger’s voice muffled through the thick blanket. “Beds are meant to be slept in. There’s no point making it look nice if you’re going to mess it up again.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I think I've heard you say! And that’s saying something!”

Owen tried to wrestle Roger out of the covers. I could see why Owen preferred to sleep alone.

I rolled my eyes, looking back at the window. We were on ground level, so anyone could creepily stare at us. The curtains were pulled to the side, allowing the sun in.

I wanted to bash their heads into the glass.

Without all the pointless chaos, there was a loud knock on the door. I turned my attention to the door. I must be Tim and his friend.

“They’re finally here,” Roger groaned, playfully punched Owen’s arm, then reached the door. He swung it open and exclaimed, “It’s about time you knuck—!”

There was a loud gasp, followed by heavy footsteps. Roger backed away, standing slightly in front, up his sleeves.

Royal Guards surrounded us. I glanced from one side to the other. There were twelve guards, all equipped with daggers and high-quality armor that looked bulkier than usual but hadn’t been scratched. In fact, they were overly protected. Everything but their eyes were shielded. It’s like they came prepared to fight.