12. Three Options

12. Three Options
“What’s on your mind?” I mumbled my question while my mind bounced forward with the gravel I kicked with my feet.
We had taken a stroll around the kitchen, except we didn’t run into a single person.
If he hadn’t told me that the workers were on a shift, I was certain he’d prepared the excursion beforehand.
Now we were done, and I somehow managed to feel relaxed and anticipate dinner.
I thought about Mara and whether she’d gotten the punishment or if he’d spared her—which was also why I was too scared to ask.
Because, what if I reminded him?
“Nothing. How about you?” He turned the question back to me, and his words echoed in my head.
There was a lot, yet nothing. “I…”
“I know,” he chimed from beside me, making me pause to look at him and wonder if he could guess correctly.
Unless he had powers to read minds, I didn’t think that was possible.
“You do?” A smile tugged at my lower lip as I squinted to see his face.
“You’re probably thinking about getting out of here…”
“Wrong!” I interrupted with the snap of my fingers.
“But there are only three options for that,” he continued without acknowledging me. His tone took a serious turn, and my brows creased in a frown as I scrunched my nose to get a better look at his face.
“Wh—” My words got stuck in my throat when his gaze met mine. I gulped hard, like a rock thrown into the salty sea.
“One,” he flicked his hair back with the tip of his pinky as he said, “The guards find you, and you’re brought back safe—or they take advantage of you till your last breath.”
My breath caught in my throat. Even so, I couldn’t look away.
I stared, simply mesmerized by the simple movement of him taking out his thumb and shaking his fist with two fingers extended, like a telephone gesture.
He lowered his hand and continued, “Two, you manage to escape outside of this realm, but that’s not any better.” I gulped again, this time air.
It itched, and my throat croaked from thirst, but I kept my eyes open. The thought of breaking eye contact came with a fear I wasn’t ready to face.
Not the fear that made my heart beat twice as fast—the kind that kept my eyes open, like the fear from nightmares.
I’d perspired hard enough to have my bangs and the collar of my shirt cling to my neck. A slight breeze blew, and I shivered.
“Because right at the border of this realm is the witches’ realm and the elves. And trust me when I say this, Mia—you don’t want to see them. You’d be seen as nothing more than a tool for experiments.” His hand rested on my shoulder. “Or before that, you get caught in one of the many traps around here.” His warm breath fanned my earlobe as he spoke directly into my ear.
I trembled from the sudden contact, and for the first time since arriving, I wanted to pull away—to retreat into my corner and shut the world out.
But that wasn’t possible. Not here, not anymore.
“I’m sorry…” I lowered my head.
The fact that we’d gone on a very nice evening stroll didn’t mean we wouldn’t address the elephant in the room.
“Don’t be. It shows you have a defiant spirit—and you’ll need that to adjust to this new place.” He said it like advice, offering comfort with such concerning words. So why did the hairs on my neck stand?
I balled my hands into fists and hid them underneath the sleeve of my robe to hide the trembles.
“Because there’s another option. A third and impossible one: you escape, survive, and return to your life as usual.” His eyes flickered between mine as if daring me to say something.
Say what?
“Really?” I cocked my head to the side, and his eyes brightened with amusement.
“Yes.” He straightened up before bursting into laughter. “But only in your dreams.” He cackled, and I gasped.
I knew I was supposed to be smiling. This was supposed to be a joke, and we ought to be laughing together.
But I was only human.
Because I couldn’t trust myself to have a good dream.
When I’d closed my eyes in the bathtub, I’d woken up startled from a nightmare—one that didn’t involve me escaping.
“I’m sorry, Mia. I didn’t mean—” He reached out, and for the first time, I stepped back.
“It’s fine.” I croaked with misty eyes.
He didn’t mean it. Everything he’d done had been for my own good, I reminded myself.
But this one hurt.
This one sentence hit me where it hurt the most.