The Pawn and The Puppet: Chapter 47
A rare moment, like a gift being placed into my hands.
The morning of the grand ball that Aurick is taking me tonight, and all I want is to sit right here. Because we had a good day yesterday, Dessin is granting me any rapid-fire questions I can think of, with only three questions that have veto power.
I mock Dessin’s cross-armed posture. We sit face-to-face on his white sheet covering the floor. A bowl of fruit is in front of us. Sliced apples, grapes, strawberries, and raspberries.
“Complete honesty,” I restate the terms.
He tosses a raspberry in his mouth.
“How old are you, really?”
“Twenty-two.” He smirks, a little thrown off that that is my first question.
“Right-handed or left-handed?”
“Ambidextrous.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Really?”
“He is right-handed.” I understand he to be the other mind in his head.
“Favorite instrument?”
“Lethal or musical?”
“Musical.” I grimace.
“Harmonica.” Side smirk.
“Happy place?”
“The forest.”
“Dogs or cats?”
“Dogs.”
“Fire or ice?”
“Fire.” I could have guessed that one.
“Have you ever had a pet?”
“Yes.”
“What was your father’s name?”
“Wyatt.”
“What’s your fondest memory?”
“Veto.”
I frown. I wonder why he wanted to veto that one?
“Have you ever been in love?”
“Veto.”
Sigh.
“Would you say you’re a perfectionist?”
“Not especially. I simply always get it right.”
“How would you describe your life in one word?”
He purses his lips to the side in thought. “Corrupt.”
“Any regrets?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“All of them.”
I pause again. Something dark creeps in and ties itself around his words.
“If you could be anything, what would you be?”
“Free.” Hmm…
“Greatest strength?”
“Control.”
“Greatest weakness?”
“Veto.”
I blink twice. “Ugh.”
“Is it my turn yet?”
I stare at him. I’ve lost the energy to demand an explanation. “Okay.”
He straightens his back. His facial expression doesn’t show any sign of being fazed by the questions he needed to veto. But then again, his greatest strength is control.
He buries his chocolate-brown eyes into mine, strengthening a connection I have yet to comprehend. “If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?”
“Somewhere close to both the sea and the forest.”
“Favorite beverage?”
“Milk, I guess.”
“Why?” He cocks his head to the right.
I lean to one side, trying to decide that for myself. “Uhh, I don’t know. Maybe it became my favorite when Scarlett started baking me a blueberry pie when I was sad. It helped comfort me. Maybe—I don’t know.”
“Favorite animal?”
I look down in thought. “A RottWeilen!” I remember the black-and-russet-red-colored fur of the wolf that saved my life. He was majestic and ancient.
“Huh. That’s awfully specific.” He stares at me with curiosity building in his eyes.
“I met one once, you know. Out in the woods one night. A night dawper came after me. I was as good as dead. But this gigantic RottWeilen came in right when I needed him. He was so brave.” I reminisce over the moment.
“Hmm.” He watches me without blinking. “That’s a sweet… Fantasy,” he mocks.
“It really happened. I have scars to prove it. When the night dawper pinned me down, it dug into my stomach! I can show you!” Without taking a second to process my own actions, I grab the end of my dress to lift it up high enough for him to see my scarred torso.
“Skylenna!” Dessin grabs my handful of dress that was moving past my upper thigh. “I’ll take your word for it.” He says with a somewhat alarmed, open-mouthed smile.
“Oh… Sorry.” I say.
It takes him a moment to collect himself and blank his expression after rubbing his forehead.
“Pet peeve?”
“People who lack empathy.”
“What do you like most about yourself?”
“Nothing.”
He frowns. “That is not true.”
“No, it is.”
A dissatisfied look. Disappointment dripping from his stature. And before he can respond, I’m summoned to leave. I need the time to get ready for the ball tonight. The ball that, uncharacteristically, Dessin does not make a comment on. But he waves me off, salutes me with a dark grin tugging at his mouth.