“As you wish sir.” The warm glow of light that signified the consciousness of the artificial intelligence acting as servant to those within the Solarium ebbed away.
Everything in Denim’s world seemed to ebb away, the pride of his hard work and rank as RRS, the hope that his father’s disdain and disappointment would be bridged with acceptance, the glow of Aunt Henelly’s eyes as she searched him for head to toe before leaving his father’s private rooms, as if she was etching him to memory one last time.
All of it ebbed away, but not the strange and chilling touch of Meekus Claudius’s hands as he took Denim’s face in his grasp. As awkward as it had felt Denim recognized it as the crude show and attempt at love that it was. It lasted only for a few short moments before his father finally dismissed him from his presence, a pitiful resignation emanating from his very pores.
That moment, the comments from the conference, the sentence, the resignation, all left him feeling more soiled and confused than any of the filth he’d gathered from the farms. All of it left him with an insatiable need for answers and explanations that were certainly not to be had if he failed at his mission of bringing in Charis Joba.
Forcing a smile with the same enthusiasm he did the soapy bristles of the scrub brush to his skin he comforted himself with the promise that he would have the answers he sought just as he would find the girl that opened the door to them.
Odd how Charis Joba and her lies had flung him out of a slumber he hadn’t even known he was party too. He owed her thanks for that just as surely as she owed him the closeness of her touch and kisses. She’d get her thanks indeed in the form of manacles and a bumpy ride back to Solarium to stand trial. The kisses he wasn’t so sure he wanted anymore.
Snickering at the thought, he finished his bathing and made ready for his journey. He had a long road of hunting ahead of him. The sooner he got on the girl’s trail the sooner his life could be set back in order according to his design. The sooner he would understand what had put fear in his father’s eyes.
© Copyright 2017, Candice Coates. All Rights Reserved.
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Artistically Yours,
Candice Coates