Chapter thirteen

Chapter thirteen


Astrid

My eyelids fluttered open as the sound of heavy pounding on the door woke me from my sleep.

I buried my face in the pillow and groaned, frustrated. It seems everyone that lives here hated sleep. Why will they be up by this time?

I chose not to respond. If the person at the door didn't get an answer, they'll have no choice but to go away, right?

But I was proven wrong when the door flung open and someone barged in.

It was none other than my six-foot-something-annoying-as-hell stepbrother. Cornelius fucking Grey.

“Get dressed,” he ordered, like he didn't just ruin my sleep.

I blinked.
“Excuse me? You can’t just barge in here and order me around–”

“You have ten minutes.” He cut in impatiently, and walked out without another word.

A part of me wanted to obey him, then I remembered how he humiliated at the wedding. Anger sparked in me. I laid back on the bed and wrapped the duvet around my body.

Cornelius, or whatever the hell his name was, could go fuck himself. I don't care.

I'd barely closed my eyes when the door opened the second time.

“What the fuck is your problem? Leave me the fuck alone!” I screamed at him.

“You have no idea how much I want to do that, but unfortunately, I can't leave you alone. I've been assigned the burdensome responsibility of keeping you alive.” he seethed.

A fresh wave of anger washed over me. It's not everyday you wake up and get called a burden by the first person you meet.

“Get out of bed, get dressed, or you're coming with me in your pajamas after 10 minutes.” He said sternly.

I wanted to call him bluff, but I knew he was going to do it. He was just crazy like that. And since I wasn't in the mood to flash my buttocks to god-knows-how-many men this morning, I decided to do as he says.

“Are you going to stay here while I shower, pervert?”

He stared at me, disinterested. He seemed to be contemplating something before sighing.

“You have eight more minutes to shower and get dressed,” he said instead.

“Or what? you'd come into the bathroom and carry me out naked?” I arched an eyebrow.

If looks could kill, I'd be six feet under with how hard he was glaring at me. He walked out of my room and I laughed. Honestly, it felt great to get under his skin. I was going to do it often from now on.

I made sure to take my sweet time with the shower and selecting outfits. I picked out one of the luxurious gowns in the closet. I didn't know if it was Arthur or my mother that bought the dress, but I didn't care. The dress was in my closet, that was what mattered. I could hear Cornelius grumbling on the other side of the door, but he didn't come in this time.

Thirty minutes later, I walked out of the door in a yellow gown with a front slit reaching my thigh. I didn't even like yellow or dresses. I just wanted to annoy Cornelius for ruining my sleep.

I couldn't wear the heels though, not even to annoy someone. Wearing heels was like going on a suicide mission, but I was already on it. There was no need to add another thing that could kill me.

Cornelius' face reddened with fury as I stood before him with a smug expression.

“That's what you're wearing?” he asked.

I leaned against the door, like those models in fashion magazines. Was the pose horrible? Absolutely. But it made him mad so it was worth it.

“Do you have a problem with it, Mister?” I smirked.

“Fine. It's your problem, not mine.” He shrugged and began walking away. I trudged after him, making sure to keep some distance between us.

After walking for what seems like forever, he finally stopped in an open space. There were several mats on the floor, and racks of weapons lining the wall. It looked like some kind of training area.

Cornelius stood in the center of the space, arms crossed, looking like he wanted to murder me just for existing. Maybe he would end up doing it.

The realization of what we were doing here suddenly dawned on me.

“No.” I gasped. Not today. Especially not in this fucking dress.

“Trust me, Heir.” he spat the last word in a condescending way. “If I had a choice, I wouldn’t be training you.”

One thing I knew was that, my presence in this place bothers him a lot. Whatever his problem was, it had to do with me being the heir. I wasn't going to let his condescending tone slide.

“Training me for what? Another assassination attempt? You would love that, wouldn't you?” I crossed my hands the hide the small tremble in it.

I wasn't afraid of the training. I'd been in training my whole life. But back then, there wasn't a mafia group after my life, just because I was born into a family I didn't know existed three months ago.

“Training you to stay alive,” Cornelius voice was hard as he spoke. “Assuming you’re capable of learning.”

“Wow,” I said, clapping my hands slowly. “And here I thought you were going to be one of those supportive mentors. Silly me.”

His eyes narrowed. “Lose the attitude. Sarcasm won't save you in real combat.”

“It’s worked so far,” I muttered.

He ignored that and tossed something at me. I managed to catch it before it hit the floor. It was wooden practice sword.

“Terrible reflexes. If I wanted to kill you, You'd be dead before the sword hit the floor.” he scoffed.

“Thank you for sparing my life, sir.” I said sarcastically. I examined the long wooden sword in my hand. “It's not the 18th century. Why are we training with wooden swords?”

“First lesson, I expect you to keep your mouth shut for the next forty five minutes, which means no questioning my method.” he groaned. “Now, hold the sword properly, don't make a mess,”

I glanced at the weapon, then glared at his him. “I want Leon to be my instructor.”

He scoffed. “Unfortunately for the both of us, you’re stuck with me, Little Heir.”

And there was that deep hatred conveyed through that single word. Heir. I was sure today was going to end in two ways only. Either he ends up killing me, or I kill him.

Given his track records of being an assassin and my lack thereof, there was a high chance I would be at the receiving end of the killing.

“I want Leon, shit face.” I screamed.

Before I could blink, he closed the distance between us, snatched the wooden sword, twirled, and tossed it back at me. I dived in to catch the sword, but tripped on my dress and ended up falling face down, the sword clattering to the floor a few feet away.

I immediately started to regret my decision to wear this long dress, even if it had only being to annoy Cornelius, it wasn't worth it. Thank God, it had straps, or my boobs would be spilling on the floor.

“Lesson two,” he said as he walked towards me. He stretched his hand out for me to grab on to. “If you can’t hold onto your weapon, you’re already dead.”

I ignored his help and tried to get up by myself, but the dress was making it impossible.

“Lesson three, any outfit you can't fight in without flashing your genitals, isn't worth wearing. If you want to play dress up, you can do us all a favour and sit your ass in front of a mirror. You're not fit to be here!” he snapped.

My eyes snapped up to him, the rage intensifying inside me. I don't understand why he had to insult me at every given opportunity, but damn it, if I wasn't going to make him eat his words.

I pretended to be struggling to get up. Then once he turned his face away, grumbling about how I was such a burden, I rolled on the floor, picked up the wooden sword, and knocked him hard on his knees. My years of stealing, providing the stealth I needed to get past his guard.

He groaned and dropped down on one knee.

“Lesson number four, don't insult your trainee before breakfast.” I half yelled.

Cornelius recovered faster than I liked. He held his own sword up, his lips tilted into a smirk.

“Alright then, let's do this. Try to get past my defense again, Little Heir.” his face was the picture of smug satisfaction. I was going to make sure to wipe that right off his fucking face.

“I'm not ‘little’, Punk.” I rolled up my dress and tied it so it stopped at the front slit.

Then I went running towards him, swinging the wooden sword as I tried to break his defense, but my effort seems futile. Either the asshole was an unfeeling robot, or his defenses were rock solid. But I was desperate to prove him wrong.

But somewhere along the last five minutes, we unknowingly switched roles. I was trying to maintain my defense, while he was attacking me. He didn’t even look like he was trying.

After another five minutes of the slow motion dancing, I threw my sword away, letting it clatter to the floor. I was beyond frustrated.

“Alright, I give up. You win. Are you happy?” I yelled in frustration.

I was sweating bullets, my hair was disheveled and clung to my face. The dress I wore was ruined. I fucking hated him.

“No, not even in the slightest. If you're not going to leave, then we need you to be ready. The attacks won't stop coming. Not just from the Serpents but from other groups too. Even from the people you call your friends. The Shadows don't need a Heir that can't even defend herself during an attack. So quit your childish behavior and train, or you leave.” He thundered, then headed for the door.

I trailed his retreating figure and tried to blink back the tears that had gathered at the corner of my eyes.

When he reached the exit, he turned back towards me.

“A leader who can't protect her subjects is useless to them.” He said and walked out, leaving my pride and ego bruised.