Chapter 7: The Church Of Aren
The last week passed in a haze of restless boredom and gnawing anxiety.
I spent most of it wandering Cain's mansion, drifting from room to room like an annoying ghost. His library became my escape not because I had a sudden love for reading, but because flipping through random books kept my hands busy and my mind distracted. I read probably close to 50 books over the span of the last week, from ancient texts about the first elites to military strategies, and even slogged through some old imperial law books. Not that any of it mattered.
When I wasn't burying myself in books, I was bothering the servants. Doran grew increasingly exasperated as I followed him around, asking pointless questions just to piss him off. Marta actually threatened to throw a pan at my head when I kept sneaking into the kitchen under the excuse of "needing a snack to fuel my extensive studies." Harkin, the cook, did not put up with my shenanigans at all and chased me out of the kitchen after I "accidentally" knocked over a tray of spices.
Buzz kills all of them.
But no matter how much I tried to distract myself, the inevitable still loomed over me.
The morning of my sixteenth birthday, I awoke to an unusual silence. No sarcastic remarks from Doran, no Marta yelling at me to "make myself useful foronce." That nagging witch. After choking down a quick breakfast, I finally heard the muffled sound of carriage wheels outside the front doors.
Cain was waiting for me.
I stepped outside to find him leaning casually against an elegant black carriage, arms crossed as he watched me with that ever-present smirk. He was dressed in his usual crisp, dark uniform, black robe flowing in the wind, and his almost golden blonde hair catching the early morning light. That blonde haired prick.
"Right on time, thanks for not making me drag you out," he says smoothly, pushing off the carriage as he throws his arm around me, guiding me towards the open carriage door. "Happy birthday, Ayato my man. Are you excited? I know I am."
I roll my eyes. "Oh, I'm so thrilled. Can't think of a better way to celebrate than potentially getting enslaved to the Empire for the rest of my life."
Cain chuckled. "Well, you're lucky your birthday falls on the first of the month. If it didn't, we would've had to wait for the next ceremony." He gave me a pointed and pained look. "And something tells me you wouldn't have handled that anticipation well."
I crossed my arms in mock offense. "You say that like I wasn't handling it perfectly fine."