Chapter 5
5
ARYA
T hree horrible days had passed since I woke in this strange, sterile world, and I had already endured far more than I thought humanly possible. The incessant beeping machines, the overly cheerful people called nurses, and Angie—always hovering, always questioning—had tested my patience to its very limits. I had demanded to leave this abysmal place called a hospital almost immediately, but apparently, this place required “medical clearance” before releasing me. A ridiculous concept. Back in Elaria, I would have summoned the healer, and the matter would have been resolved in minutes. Here, however, I was subject to their absurd rules and procedures.
Finally, the day of my release arrived and Angie arrived to “assist” me. The thought of needing help from this jester of a woman grated on my nerves, but I had no choice. She walked into the room, her expression caught somewhere between relief and exasperation.
“Ready to go, Cat?” she asked brightly, her arms laden with strange, soft bags.
“For the hundredth time, my name is Lady Arya!” I snapped, throwing the stiff hospital blanket off me. “And yes, I am ready. Though I can’t imagine why this process has taken so long. If this is how your people handle matters of efficiency, it is no wonder your world is so chaotic.”
Angie sighed and set the bags on a chair. “Okay, Lady Arya ,” she said with a mocking bow. “Let’s get you dressed and out of here. I’m sure everyone will be absolutely heartbroken to see you go.”
Ignoring her insolence, I glanced at the clothes she brought. They were… questionable, to say the least. A pair of fitted trousers made from some strange, rough material and a plain shirt devoid of embroidery or embellishments, though it was surprisingly soft. With a frown, I held the shirt up as though it might bite me. “What is this? A servant’s uniform?”
Angie snorted. “Those are jeans and a T-shirt. Pretty standard for… well, everyone. Trust me, you’ll blend right in.”
“Blend in?” I repeated, horrified. “I have no intention of blending in . This fabric is coarse and unworthy of me.” I dropped it on the bed and crossed my arms with an indignant huff.
“Unless you want to walk out of here in that hospital gown,” Angie said, jabbing her hands on her hips, “I suggest you put them on. And no, you can’t just demand silk.”
I huffed but relented. Minutes later, dressed in the offensive garments, I followed Angie out of the hospital, my nose wrinkling at every turn. The air outside was thick with strange smells—burning oil, metal, and something faintly sweet but artificial. The sounds were worse. Unnatural roars and honks filled the air, assaulting my ears.
And then I saw it.
A metallic beast sat waiting outside the hospital, low and gleaming like a predator poised to pounce. Its windows were dark, and its form unnervingly sleek. I stopped dead in my tracks.
“What is that ?” I demanded, taking a step back.
Angie blinked, then burst out laughing. “It’s a car, Cat. Don’t tell me you don’t remember what a car is. It’s what we use to get from place to place. What do you think we use, horses?”
“Of course I’ve never seen a car before!” I snapped. “In Elaria, we have carriages. And they are drawn by horses, as is proper.”
“Well, welcome to the twenty-first century.” Angie opened the door to the contraption. It let out a faint click. “Get in.”
I stared at the open door as though it led to my doom. “You expect me to climb inside that… thing ?”
“Yes,” Angie said, exasperated. “It’s not going to eat you. Come on, I don’t have all day.”
I shook my head. “I’d rather walk.”
“It’s ten miles to your apartment. In those shoes? Good luck.”
I glared at her, then the car. It was abnormal, offensive, and far too shiny. “It’s unnatural,” I said aloud. “What powers it? Magic?”
Angie groaned. “No, not magic. Gasoline. Just get in.”
When I didn’t move, Angie rolled her eyes, grabbed my arm, and practically shoved me into the horseless carriage. I yelped when the door slammed shut beside me.
Angie climbed into the other side. “You’ll be fine. Just buckle up.”
I stared at the strange belt-like contraption she gestured to. “Buckle up? What does that even mean?”
Angie reached over, pulled the strap across my chest, and fastened it with a click. “There. See? Easy.”
Easy for her, perhaps. I tugged at the strap and scowled. “This is ridiculous. I feel like I’ve been restrained!”
“Good. Safety first,” Angie said with a grin. She turned a key and the car roared to life.
I shrieked and gripped the seat as tightly as possible. “It’s alive!” I cried.
“It’s an engine,” Angie corrected. “Relax, Cat. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.”
Relax? How could I possibly relax when this infernal contraption was growling beneath me? The car lurched forward and I let out another yelp, clutching at anything I could reach.
“You’re fine,” Angie said, barely stifling a laugh. “Just breathe, okay?”
The ride was the longest, most harrowing experience of my life. The streets were chaotic, filled with other cars weaving dangerously close. Lights blinked at intersections, people darted across the road, and strange signs loomed everywhere. I gasped, flinched, and muttered curses under my breath the entire way. Angie, to her credit, seemed unfazed, though her lips twitched suspiciously every time I jumped.
When we finally reached our destination, I nearly fell out of the car in my haste to escape it. Angie came around to my side, shaking her head.
“You’re so dramatic,” she said, slamming the door shut.
“Dramatic?” I snapped. “That… that thing is a death trap! I will never set foot in it again!”
“Oh, yes you will,” Angie said with a smirk. “Unless you plan on walking everywhere.”
I glared at her but said nothing. Instead, I turned my attention to the building before us. It was tall and gray, with rows of tall windows and a narrow staircase leading to the entrance. Hardly a palace, but at least it wasn’t moving.
Angie led the way inside and I followed, my nose wrinkling at the faint smell of mildew in the stairwell. The climb was exhausting, and I muttered complaints the entire way.
“How does anyone live like this?” I grumbled as I clutched my chest. “No servants, no proper decor… this is positively barbaric!”
“We make do,” Angie said dryly, inserting a key and then pushing open the door to what she called an apartment. My apartment. Or more accurately, Cat’s apartment.
The space inside was small and cluttered, filled with mismatched furniture and strange devices. A man stood near the couch, his dark hair tousled and his shirt half-untucked. He turned as we entered, his expression shifting from surprise to something more guarded.
“Fernando,” Angie said, her tone tight. “What are you doing here? You have some nerve still using her key!”
“I came to talk to Cat,” he said, his voice smooth but insincere. His gaze landed on me, and he hesitated. “Cat… you’re back.”
I raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down. He was handsome enough, I supposed, but there was something slimy about him—like a merchant trying to sell counterfeit goods.
“This is Fernando,” Angie said, her voice dripping with contempt. She leaned closer to me and whispered, “Before the accident, you found out he was cheating on you.”
I tilted my head, studying him like one might study an insect under a glass. “ This is Fernando?” I asked, my tone laced with disdain. She had mentioned him once or twice over the last few days. Specifically, Angie had asked me – or rather Cat – if she had attempted suicide after hearing of his infidelity. I nearly keeled over in laughter after her question. I didn’t know this Cat person, but I certainly would not have sacrificed my precious life over… this thing .
Fernando’s brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I ignored him and turned to Angie. “I’ve seen better. Honestly, I can’t imagine what I—or rather, what Cat—ever saw in him.”
“Excuse me?” Fernando said, his voice rising.
I turned back to him with an icy expression. “You heard me. And while we’re on the subject, let me save you the trouble of whatever excuse you were about to offer. Consider this… arrangement terminated.”
Fernando blinked, and then his face turned red. “Terminated? Wait, I was going to—”
“Yes,” I said, my tone clipped. “You are no longer needed. Or wanted. You may go.”
His jaw worked as he struggled to find words. Then, to my surprise, his expression softened, almost pleading. “Cat, wait. I… I messed up. I know that. But we can work through this, can’t we?”
I blinked, momentarily thrown by his sudden change in demeanor. Wasn’t he about to break up with this Cat person? What changed?
Angie, standing behind him, looked like she was about to burst out laughing.
“Work through this?” I repeated, my voice dripping with incredulity. “You cheated. That’s not a mistake. That’s a character flaw. And frankly, I don’t have time to waste on men who lack the decency to be honest.”
“But—” he started, his voice breaking slightly.
“No,” I said firmly, cutting him off. “Whatever attachment you think you have to me is meaningless. Take your excuses, your pleading, and your… your mediocre self, and leave.”
Fernando’s face went through a myriad of emotions before finally settling on one: defeat. “Fine,” he said stiffly. “But you’ll regret this.”
“Doubtful.” I offered a dismissive wave. “And leave the… what was it you said he had?” I turned to Angie.
“The key.” She stretched her hand out to him. With a huff, he pulled the key from his pocket and slapped it in Angie’s palm. Then he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The moment he was gone, Angie collapsed onto the couch, laughing until she gasped for air. “Oh my god,” she managed between breaths. “You broke him. I don’t think he’ll ever recover!”
I smirked, then elegantly sat down and crossed my legs. “Good. Perhaps he’ll think twice before attempting to insult me with his presence again.”
Angie shook her head, still laughing. “You are something else, Cat.”
“Yes,” I said, smoothing the fabric of my jeans with distaste. “I am.”