black fingernails. Most men would feel their pride wounded.
The blood whooshing through her veins was inflamed and she forgot her fear and heartache. The rush of feeling alive vaporized with this awareness, and the winds of offense began to slowly lose momentum as her grief-stricken state crawled back into its proper place. Oaklee sobered and warily studied the man in the portal. They embodied two different cultures, but she discerned that he, too, hid behind heated emotions.
Leaf was right. The Outside world must not know that they had connected through a secret portal. And as a Noble, it was her duty to sacrifice for the greater good of the community and for her family.
The man fixed his gaze on her as he leaned back against his throne with a posture of indifference, running a hand through his hair as if bored and unimpressed. She almost believed he was serious but the corner of his mouth tilted up slightly in a near indiscernible grin. “How can you sleep at night, using a word like 'trash'? That's like a four-letter word to you hippies. God, I bet your mouth feels so dirty.”
“You, sir, may not treat—”
Leaf began to protect her honor, but she silenced him by placing a hand upon his chest, and gently shook her head. Her brother drew his brows together as he searched her eyes, and then gave a quick nod.
Oaklee turned back toward the portal and lowered her head in a bow—quickly, before she changed her mind. She could not shake his hand per their custom, but she could still exhibit the humility it represented. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves, and then said, “I am most sorry for insulting you, sir.”
To ensure he received the tone of her message, she maintained a downcast posture in a long pause, and then lowered to a curtsy as an act of honor. Although she would rather slap the smug expression on his face, she closed her eyes and willed compassion to surface, returning his stunned gaze with one of empathy as she nearly knelt on the floor. The man’s self-important smile faded and his lips parted in shock as he shifted in his chair. He dropped his head toward his chest, allowing long black hair to cover his face, and Oaklee stared at the bright blue streak curiously. Had no one ever apologized to him before? His shoulders rose and fell, the smooth lines of his tunic taut against his frame. The Outsider nonchalantly returned to an aloof posture and moved the hair out of his eyes with a quick jerk of his head, tucking strands behind an ear with timid movements. A distraught look flashed across his eyes as he focused on her brother, and she swallowed nervously.
Leaf turned her direction with a look of astonishment with the level of honor she bestowed, knitting his brows as he offered his hand to help her rise. The man in the portal continued to fix his attention onto her brother as he moved a hand to the right and pushed a button on a small black cube.
“This conversation is now private,” he said, and her fingers trembled with relief. The man met her eyes for several heartbeats and then asked softly, “Are you in trouble?”
The Outsider shifted forward on his throne, all traces of haughtiness replaced with one meaningful look. What happened to all the ridicule? Oaklee weighed his question, noticing in the corner of her eye that Leaf watched her closely.
“We are not sure,” Oaklee said in a tremulant voice, darting a look at her brother. “Do you know how to activate a Scroll?”
“You’re not sure if you’re in trouble?”
Leaf shifted on his feet and lowered his gaze, and she followed his example. They remained quiet and still, and Oaklee nibbled the inside of her lip as the tension silently increased.
With a sigh tinged with annoyance, the man fell back against his throne with a dramatic thud and lifted his eyes to the ceiling with what looked like a plea before continuing. “I’m Fillion, the nighttime master of the electronic dungeon at New Eden Enterprises.” Oaklee
The blood whooshing through her veins was inflamed and she forgot her fear and heartache. The rush of feeling alive vaporized with this awareness, and the winds of offense began to slowly lose momentum as her grief-stricken state crawled back into its proper place. Oaklee sobered and warily studied the man in the portal. They embodied two different cultures, but she discerned that he, too, hid behind heated emotions.
Leaf was right. The Outside world must not know that they had connected through a secret portal. And as a Noble, it was her duty to sacrifice for the greater good of the community and for her family.
The man fixed his gaze on her as he leaned back against his throne with a posture of indifference, running a hand through his hair as if bored and unimpressed. She almost believed he was serious but the corner of his mouth tilted up slightly in a near indiscernible grin. “How can you sleep at night, using a word like 'trash'? That's like a four-letter word to you hippies. God, I bet your mouth feels so dirty.”
“You, sir, may not treat—”
Leaf began to protect her honor, but she silenced him by placing a hand upon his chest, and gently shook her head. Her brother drew his brows together as he searched her eyes, and then gave a quick nod.
Oaklee turned back toward the portal and lowered her head in a bow—quickly, before she changed her mind. She could not shake his hand per their custom, but she could still exhibit the humility it represented. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves, and then said, “I am most sorry for insulting you, sir.”
To ensure he received the tone of her message, she maintained a downcast posture in a long pause, and then lowered to a curtsy as an act of honor. Although she would rather slap the smug expression on his face, she closed her eyes and willed compassion to surface, returning his stunned gaze with one of empathy as she nearly knelt on the floor. The man’s self-important smile faded and his lips parted in shock as he shifted in his chair. He dropped his head toward his chest, allowing long black hair to cover his face, and Oaklee stared at the bright blue streak curiously. Had no one ever apologized to him before? His shoulders rose and fell, the smooth lines of his tunic taut against his frame. The Outsider nonchalantly returned to an aloof posture and moved the hair out of his eyes with a quick jerk of his head, tucking strands behind an ear with timid movements. A distraught look flashed across his eyes as he focused on her brother, and she swallowed nervously.
Leaf turned her direction with a look of astonishment with the level of honor she bestowed, knitting his brows as he offered his hand to help her rise. The man in the portal continued to fix his attention onto her brother as he moved a hand to the right and pushed a button on a small black cube.
“This conversation is now private,” he said, and her fingers trembled with relief. The man met her eyes for several heartbeats and then asked softly, “Are you in trouble?”
The Outsider shifted forward on his throne, all traces of haughtiness replaced with one meaningful look. What happened to all the ridicule? Oaklee weighed his question, noticing in the corner of her eye that Leaf watched her closely.
“We are not sure,” Oaklee said in a tremulant voice, darting a look at her brother. “Do you know how to activate a Scroll?”
“You’re not sure if you’re in trouble?”
Leaf shifted on his feet and lowered his gaze, and she followed his example. They remained quiet and still, and Oaklee nibbled the inside of her lip as the tension silently increased.
With a sigh tinged with annoyance, the man fell back against his throne with a dramatic thud and lifted his eyes to the ceiling with what looked like a plea before continuing. “I’m Fillion, the nighttime master of the electronic dungeon at New Eden Enterprises.” Oaklee
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