21

Today is a busy day. It's been exactly two weeks since Langdon stayed in her dwelling. Even though it was weird and felt like she was invaded, she adapted well. If she's honest with herself, she would admit that the man, a proud prostitute, made everything easier.

She hated to cook, but it was the most vital point in surviving so she got used to it. Nonetheless, her roommate became her cook. He would always say he is nothing but a talented prostitute but he is also a damning cook. So, damning that you would gain weight without you noticing. Thanks to her grueling job of surviving every day in an unsure environment, she remained fit.

On the other hand, Tahlia noticed that Langdon is getting bigger. He is gaining weight and is no longer lanky. She could not see his rib cage anymore every time he deemed it is freedom to walk around clad in nothing. Yes, the fool would sometimes walk around in his birthday suit. He would always reason out that he has no clothes to change into.

It is the reason why today is a busy day. She has to gather some materials for his clothes. She lived modestly and minimally; therefore, she cannot keep lending him her clothes since she only got a few and the man was taller than her. Now that he is gaining his much-needed weight, he outgrew the clothes she loaned him. She could not let him wander around like a naked statue like those figures she saw in some of her books.

At her dwelling, she has a few rolls of fabrics in her position. As she strived to live practically, she only made a handful of shirts and all in dark colors. She opted for black, brown/tan colors. A few of her shirts were in airy pastel colors. The problem is Langdon also wanted dark colors, but the color of fabric rolls she has were all in white/beige variation. He wanted brown and tan colors. The man even insisted that he would remain naked if the colors didn't match his preference. It was a literal blackmail.

She can't do anything since he held her hostage using the dishes he cooked. Tahlia never thought she would be such a pushover because of good food. The food he made was all delicious, however, it meant more work and ingredients to gather.

"Let me go with you." The man grabbed his bag, pulling her back and she almost stumbled. Her bag was filled with some provisions and extra cloth bags to hold the materials she needed. If he wanted dark colors, she had to gather some oak gall, oak acorns, and some of its bark for dye. It is a single trip she could make in a few hours.

"Weren't you making something a while ago?" she asked. The man has been using her small amount of beeswax, and some flowers he insisted on taking home every time they gather resources.

"Already done with it. You're going to gather some materials for the dye, aren't you? I'm bored so take me with you." he pulled at her bag once again. She smacked the hand, and kept her eyes averted. Yes, it is one of those days.

"Get yourself dressed, you idiot!" she spat at the stubborn men. He seems to forget that clothes aren't just for show but for protection.

"I will. Don't leave just yet." In a flash, he went back inside the dwelling and was back in a minute fully clothed. Behind him was Rain following like a lost pup. They became closer the last few days.

"Rain you can't come. Guard the house for now.'' she commanded but the wolfdog had the audacity to look at the man for help. It never failed to make her jaw slack.

"No, she said you can't come. Let's play later." he told the animal, and she couldn't help making a face. It was ridiculous. There is no loyalty in this household. She slowly marched away from the scene. The betrayal displayed by her animal annoys her to no end. Giving her animal one last glimpse, she saw how the traitor almost purred like a feline when the man scratched those fluffy ears. Her face is almost twitching in annoyance at this point.

"Keep up!" she yelled at the man showering the animal some affection. She did not spare a glance, but he knew that the man was already tailing her. Today is definitely busy.

***

The atmosphere inside the room was unfriendly. Arthur was sitting in the leather davenport placed in the corner of the room while a man was standing with chestnut hair. His back turned. He was looking through the window, and into the array of buildings lining the street.

"What can you say for yourself, you bastard?" The voice was calm, and seemingly smiling but Arthur slightly flinched on his seat. Sammy was on the other corner of the room, trying his best to blend with the concrete wall, along with the number of impressive paintings hanging from it. The poor man was almost shaking in his pants.

"No words? You maim three of my people today. Three, perfect, healthy pairs of hands." the man added. His straight back did not even move from where he was standing. The strong musky scent of the room could irritate someone's sense of smell.

"They stole one of my whores." Arthur's clipped response was loud enough to be heard. If you listen closely, you'll hear a subtle hint of anxiousness, a little tremble somewhere.

"A whore for three pairs of healthy working hands?! Where the fuck did you lost your brain?! You fucking son of a bitch can't see the importance of work capable hands?! It is just a whore Artie. You fucking maimed three pairs of hands over something stupid!" a loud thundering voice filled the spacious room.

Sammy was now visibly shaking in the corner while Arthur was sweating in his seat, clearly annoyed at the man's words, but can't do anything with the situation.

"You act like you didn't maim anyone." Arthur's curt reply caused an explosive reaction.

In a blink of an eye, the man who was simply standing, staring at the window all this time, grabbed a paper weight on his smooth oak table and hurled the object at Arthur who wasn't quick enough to dodge it. The object hit him square on the forehead, causing a sudden gush of blood seeping from his forehead. It was nasty.

"I damaged my property when it is needed, you fucking imbecile. You lessened our manpower over your lousy ego. I don't understand how that head of yours works when you can't even follow a simple instruction. You had Joseph cut one of Mattia's fingers. He is a goddamn blacksmith!" Dickens' voice boomed once again and kicked the nearest chair in fury.

Arthur kept his eyes nailed on the ground, anger simmering in his eyes as his blood continued to gush out from his head wound.

"That whore is my top moneymaker." he hissed in answer,

"You got 10 gold coins for that, bloody idiot. Don't be a goddamned ninny, and don't do anything stupid in the coming weeks." Dickens mockingly said, pertaining to the coins they got from the three men who seemingly sold the whore.

The Head of district V drones on about the things Arthur should not do. The former did not even notice that the latter was not listening to him at all. His glassy stare was on the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world. In his head, however, plans were being concocted one by one.

"Lastly, keep your business away from Talon. At least that kid has the brain to keep his words and deliver those three men you maimed back safely. That hermit is an important pawn. Watch yourself." Dickens ordered with an intimidating stare. He straightened his shirt like nothing happened. As if there is no one bleeding right on his davenport.

Finished with reminding his errant brother, Dickens left his studio without a glimpse. There is no falter in his steps. Sammy, on the other hand, beeline for the bleeding Arthur, shaking from the encounter. The latter was scoffing in resentment.