Chapter 39: Chapter 12 — new

I knocked on Abble’s door, and she came to it almost before my knuckles even left the surface in a blouse and trousers.

The sweet, flowery smell that felt like a warm summer breeze hit my face. If I hadn’t known it was just in my head, I would’ve thought my hair had blown back from the potent scent.

I waved. “Hey.”

“Are you still feeling seasick?”

Ah, yes, my excuse to leave her room for some privacy. I hadn’t actually been sick. Well, I found it strange that I hadn’t taken a shit or pissed since I became a demon, but that wasn’t a sickness. It was a side effect I welcomed. That and the fact that I never experienced hunger or thirst. I assumed that would end eventually, so I tried to feed myself and drink when I could.

“No, I am much better. I figured you’d want some company.”

Abble’s eyebrow raised. “I would if you were actually seasick and were not using it as an excuse not to see me.”

I gave a long, slow blink. “Let’s say that is true for the sake of argument. I spent most of my time in your room the day before yesterday playing cards. One would think my momentary absences would be acceptable.”

“One would think my momentary—why you talk like that sometimes? You sound like a teacher reading from a book.”

“I am shocked you know what a teacher is—are you planning to let me in?”

Abble stepped into her room, holding the door with a blank expression. She was planning on doing something mean. I could sense it.

As I attempted to enter, the door slammed in my face, and I let out a long sigh.

I wish Abble would prove my instincts wrong. If she really wanted to get a reaction out of me, that would be the way to do it.

The door swung open again, and Abble grabbed my arm, pulling me in. “That was mean,” she chuckled, clearly not sorry for her actions.

I glanced around the room, wondering where that scent was coming from. It wasn’t just originating from her. I thought it was her blood, but maybe it was a perfume of sorts.

Boy, I hated it when my father brought some back to my mother and sister when he travelled to Lockward. My sister was the worst offender with using too much and stinking the house up. I would sneeze for hours. My sense of smell had always been a bit sensitive.

Abble waved her hand at me. “Looking for something?”

I turned to her. “No—can we start sword training? Before arriving at The College of Guilds, I would like to get as proficient as possible.

Abble rested her palms on her hips. “Let’s do grappling first. Best to know how to fight without a sword.”

“I suppose that’s okay. Where are we to do this, on the deck?”

“My bed is fine. It’s big enough.”

“I spend more time sitting on that bed than I do in my room. Let’s venture outside.”

Abble skipped over, hopping on the bed, and slowly patted its silky maroon sheets.

Why does she have to call me over like a dog?

I slink over, getting on the bed like I was ordered.

Just as I got to her, Abble yanked me between her legs and wrapped them around me. She put her arm over the back of my neck, driving my head into the bed. Her fingers locked under my throat, and I experienced a mild discomfort.

Abble made her headlock tighter. “So what are you intending to do in this circumstance?”

I was getting distracted by her incredible scent, which in turn pulled attention away from my neck being squeezed.

Where was this scent coming from? Nobody on his boat radiated an aroma like her.

“Die,” I mumbled.

“Yeah, at this rate, you will,” she said, squeezing. “This is a guillotine choke. You don’t want to let me get my legs around you. At this point, you’re screwed unless I get tired”—Abble dropped her legs—“you want to roll right here.”

I did what Abble said, and she let me twist onto my back, flipping her grip quickly when the lock was broken. “Like this?” I asked as her curly hair flopped on my face.

“Right now, you want to pry my hand up and away before getting to your feet,” Abble said, and she didn’t resist as I broke the hold and moved to my knees. “Well done. Now let’s do it again.”

Abble and I ran this motion a couple of dozen times. She continued to make it increasingly difficult for me, but not impossible. I think she was happy with my progress, even if I screwed it up a few times.

Hmm. Not as good as push-ups, but better than nothing.

Abble and I switched positions, and she was less forgiving this time. She didn’t let me hold the headlock long before doing all sorts of other escapes she didn’t teach me. This carried on for a while before she worked me to the edge of the bed. Knowing it was coming, I did little to stop her from tossing me onto the floor.

I just lay on the ground for a moment, staring at the black wood ceiling. “You did that on purpose.”

Abble’s head popped over the edge with a grin as her caramel-coloured hair fell forward. “Why would you say that?”

I folded my arms, looking away. “Cause I could tell you were working your way to the edge of the bed.”

Abble pouted her full pink lips. “Why do you think everything I do is malicious?”

“Because it is,” I said, sitting up and rubbing my head.

Abble rolled over, grabbing her chin with her thumb and pointer finger. “We should definitely practice all the headlocks and escapes. I feel like that is the first thing people go for when weapons are lost.”

“How many are there?” I asked, crawling back onto the bed.

Abble’s hazel-green eyes glanced over at me. “A lot, actually.”

“So your mother taught you all this fighting stuff?” I said, lying down on my stomach and resting my chin on my folded hands.

“Most of it”—Abble looked back up at the ceiling—“My father is decent at hand-to-hand combat. He taught me a lot of the tricks of brawling. Mother was primarily a wrestler and sword fighter.”

“Did you ask her to train?”

Abble smiled, looking to reminisce. “My mom was always my hero. She was just someone that you couldn’t help but be inspired by. When she walked into a room, it was nearly impossible not to look her way. I wanted to be like her so desperately. She didn’t want to teach me initially, but I was persistent.”

“Why didn’t she want to teach you?”

“Because she didn’t want me to join the Guild. She wanted me to live a normal life, but it was difficult to have that when your father is a dickhead.”

I rolled to my side, resting the side of my head on my palm. “Was there anything else besides it just being dangerous?”

“She didn’t talk about it much, but there was some animosity over my mother not killing Nicholas and her quitting. The Guild couldn’t say no because they owed her for some reason, and the one thing the Guild prides itself on is its word. That didn’t stop them from being unhappy about it. The Guild said something that really got under her skin because she couldn’t say anything nice about them.”

Hm. I wonder what they said to her. Even with her mother being so high in the ranking, I wouldn’t imagine the Guild would be happy about Nicholas not being dead. That seemed like an easy way to be called a traitor.

“What is your mother’s name?”

This would be an excellent way to bring up Abble’s last name. I had been wondering about that since seeing the invitation window. However, the topic never really came up in the past two days, so I hadn’t asked.

“Fiona Nightingale.”

I smiled. “Nightingale is a pretty neat surname.”

Abble smiled back. “Abble Nightingale sounds pretty badass, huh?”

She had such a pleasant smile. Her lips were a particularly notable feature of her face. It was easy to get lost in their movement when she talked. No woman in my village came near their attractiveness.

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I had hoped I didn’t stare at them too much. All I needed was for her to tease me about being a creep.

“Very… badass.”

I had never heard that phrase before, but I had some level of reasoning.

Abble just stared at me for a moment. “You’re so white.”

“What?”

“You pasty.”

“I’m… not pasty.”

“Listen, you’re like a ghost.”

I gave a long pause. “Why are you so tan?”

Really Kade? That is the only thing you could come up with.

Sometimes my rebuttals were effective, but other times they sucked so badly I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“Because my dad is black”—Abble eyes squinted at me—“Were you not paying attention?”

“I was definitely paying attention—I don’t know… It was just the first thing that came to mind.”

“So pale.”

I tsked, looking away. “Whatever.”

“I like it. It makes your blue eyes stand out.”

My gaze returned to her. “You know, if you start off with a compliment, it makes people more inclined to be friends with you.”

Abble shrugged. “I am not changing for anyone. You either accept me for who I am or move on.”

She needed to make some adjustments to her personality, but I respected her response. Abble was unapologetic for who she was. Her convoluted confidence was interesting.

“You’re a lot like my sister.”

Abble’s eyebrow raised. “Should I take that as a compliment?”

“Yes… She is one of the few people I could stand to have a conversation with for more than five minutes.”

“So you and your sister are close?”

I sighed. “Yeah, I guess. She put up with me, and thinking back, I should’ve been nicer to her. I was jealous of her and my mom’s relationship. Father and I never really clicked, so we never had that friendship my mother and sister had. My only friend was her because of how much my parents sheltered me from everything.”

“Why did they shelter you? That seemed weird.”

I thought for a moment. “Not sure. They acted as if me being around people was dangerous.”

“For you or them?” Abble asked, crawling over.

That was an odd question.

“I guess me? I don’t know who I’d be hurting.”

Abble lay on her back in front of me, sending that flowery smell into the air. “Everyone is capable of hurting someone, but I don’t believe you would intentionally.”

I paused, shaking my head. “What does that even mean?”

“You never answered me the first time I asked about a girlfriend,” Abble said, brushing off my question thoroughly.

Why was she asking this again?

We were in her bed a lot. This could definitely be seen as inappropriate if I were courting someone. I didn’t take Abble as the type that would care, though. She would probably find amusement in making me feel guilty about our interactions—ah, yes. I found the answer.

I squinted my eyes at Abble. “You asked that when we first got on the boat.”

“And you never answered it.”

Silence lingered for a bit before I responded. “Because we moved on from the conversation, and no, I do not have a girlfriend. I’ve never had one.”

“Never?”

“Remember, I said I was sheltered.”

“I don’t know if I believe you’ve never had a girlfriend.”

“Hm.”

Abble remained quiet for a few moments. “Ever kiss someone?”

“No.”

She sighed. “Why are you being so short with me?”

“I don’t know. Have you kissed anyone?”

Abble put her finger to her chin like she was counting. “I’ve kissed zero,” she said, holding her pointer finger and thumb together, making a zero.

“Really?”

Even with Abble’s abrasiveness, I figured someone would’ve ventured into dangerous waters. She was like those sirens my father told me about. Abble’s beautiful face was just a trap.

Abble nodded. “I almost got kissed, but sensed it coming and left.”

“That poor guy.”

Abble chuckled. “He is managing just fine. He’s almost run through all the women in Lockward.”

I hated I was so terrible at these phrases. It was literally a guessing game most of the time. I was pretty sure this meant he was intimate with many women.

“He must be good-looking.”

Abble shrugged. “Not my type”—she sat up in her bed—“you can leave if you want. I don’t wanna force you to stay.”

“Nah, we should get back to our wrestling. It would be embarrassing to die from one of these headlocks in a fight.”

Abble looked like she wasn’t expecting me to stay, as her face lit up a tad. “Are you doing this to make me happy?”

I shook my head. “I’m pretty sure I asked for you to train me.”

“Yeah, but… if you want to continue, we can,” Abble said, and my eyes glanced quickly at her fingers, which looked to be gently pushing something under the covers.

My attention caused her to stop whatever she was doing immediately.

I sat up, crossing my legs. “I haven’t grown tired of you just yet,” I smiled.

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