36. Forfeits

The secretary used a magic thread to bind Grant's and my wrists together during parties. It took a lot of energy to do this all the time, but it was enough for a few hours while the boring official part of the evening went on. If we got within eight metres of each other, the invisible thread would tighten and prevent us from walking any further.

I could breathe more freely without the chain.

But Grant often took advantage of his position to taunt me. For example, when I put my hand across the buffet table to pick up a favourite cake, I was suddenly unable to take a step because at the other end of the hall, leaning against a column, was Grant, smiling sweetly. I didn't stoop so low and consoled myself with the fact that I was the more mature, intelligent, clever and wise of the two of us.

When it came to dancing, we couldn't dance with anyone else. Besides, I didn't know how to dance, and Circul Junior didn't want to get to know the female colour of the nation. Or maybe he was just shy of inviting other girls who were looking at him, or maybe he was just squeamish.

So, during the obligatory rounds of dancing, we had to stand somewhere in the corner, facing each other, holding hands and playing ‘press me down all my toes’. We took it in turns to win, so I generally preferred dull banquets to balls.

But what I liked most about the whole situation was observing people's behaviour. Some of them were quite comfortable in society, others, and this was obvious to the naked eye, were looking for good connections. The former usually talked in established circles and rarely changed their social circle, while the latter never exchanged a word with their peers and were eager to part as soon as they met and felt the ‘kinship’ of the lucky ones who had found their way into high society.

Sometimes, out of idleness, I would pick up prop cards at fundraisers. And whenever Grant would ask me, “What do you need them for?” I'd shrug and say, “I don't know. They're just pretty. Maybe they'll come in handy.”

It was at one of the most boring banquets that I met Taehee. Her father was an ambassador for the Kingdom of Rith, so the winds of politics had brought this charming girl to our capital.

I bumped into her by chance after asking Grant to go to the toilet and seeing her on the sofa in the ladies' room. The stranger's long brown hair was tangled in bobby pins, so I offered to help. And while I was freeing her hair from the pins, we got to talking.

It turned out that Taehee had known the brothers Kai, Dav and Grant since childhood. The first thing we agreed on was our mutual dislike of Barg, the Asanor pug.

She also played Virtul and was upset that it had been banned in Unica. We mourned that fact for a while.

“Wait,” she called to me as I was about to leave. “Can't you help me a little more?”

In her spare time, the ambassador's daughter wrote freelance articles for well-known magazines and dreamed of becoming a famous writer.

“Can you answer some questions for my new work?”

I nodded and made myself comfortable in my seat once more.

“What is love to you?”

“What do you mean?” I furrowed my eyebrows slightly.

Taehee laughed, seeing my wary look. “I am doing a survey: ‘What does it mean to love?’ Some people say it means being sincere and respecting each other's opinions.”

“Got it,” I inhaled deeply, trying to remember all my thoughts on the matter.

There have been times when I too have wondered about this eternal and beautiful feeling.

“Do you think I'm crazy?” I asked, after a long rant about love.

“No, I believe every word you say,” the girl switched off the recorder and looked at me seriously.

“Good,” I smiled, it was nice to have a heart-to-heart with someone almost my age who could listen and keep the conversation going. “If you ever need help, just ask.”

I grabbed my coral clutch and headed for the exit, trying to imagine what kind of beating I was going to get. We chatted on the sofas for over half an hour and I didn't even want to think about the angry Grant who had to ‘prop up’ the ladies' room door all the time.

Surprisingly, it wasn't just Circul Junior who greeted me with a reproachful look, Kai Asanor finished the joke he'd been telling his cousin and then smiled at me and the new acquaintance who followed me.

“Taehee, what a reunion!” the blonde haired guy hugged his old friend happily. “I haven't seen you for about five years. How long are you staying with us?”

The ambassador's equally happy daughter couldn't get a word in edgewise over the incessant cooing of Asanor, who put a hand on her shoulder and led her towards the main hall.

“We're leaving, have a good night,” Grant said goodbye, nudging me in the opposite direction. “It was nice to see you, Taehee.”

“Right now?” the disappointment in Kai's voice wasn't fake. “I just wanted to try those chocolate brownies they promised to serve at the end of dinner.”

“You can stay,” Circul said quietly, taking the chain from the briefcase one of the secretaries had handed him.

With a sigh, I glanced down at the jingling chain, craning my neck to make it easier to hook the metal leash, which shimmered in the glow of the magical lights from the chandeliers.

“No way. Your father asked me to keep an eye on you two and I won't let you go alone...” Asanor was already walking towards us. “By the way, Taehee, you should come and visit us. You can come tomorrow, we'll be waiting for you.”

The girl blushed with embarrassment; Kai's last words had sounded too enchanting. “Oh, good. I'll bring the brownie you wanted.”

“Yes, come, Barg misses you,” Grant smiled faintly, and it wasn't clear whether he was mocking or actually saying what he thought.

“I missed him too,” Taehee grinned, her eyes gleaming. “I'll drop by. Do you mind?” she turned to me.

“Do I mind? No, I'm all for it. You have no idea how tired I am of Grant. It's impossible to be in the same room with him for more than two hours.”

“Siri, I'll remember that for you,” Circul came up behind me and rested his chin on my shoulder.

“Yes, Siri, you shouldn't have said that. He'll really remember,” Kai looked at me as if I were a terminally ill person who was having his coffin pillow fluffed tomorrow. “I don't envy you... He's vindictive.”

I realised that. But it was too late to take back what I had said.

“So don't envy her. She's mine,” Grant dragged me towards the exit. “I'm the only one who can get revenge on her.”

The next morning it really came back to me. Circul Junior had been lying on the bed with his arms crossed over his chest for three hours, refusing to get up. After unsuccessfully trying to drag him in the direction of food, I trampled on my pride and listed all the hundred reasons (which he insisted I name, to please his ego) why I appreciated having him as my ‘bomb-disaster roommate’.

He smiled as if nothing had happened, got up and walked lightly toward the stairs to the ground floor. I was tired, both physically and mentally, and I stared at him, gloating and anticipating how he would get out of this and come up with a hundred reasons why I was so good.

As long as the chain would allow, I dashed into the bathroom. The marble base of the sink was welded to the floor, so I wasn't afraid it would break off while I was holding on. But even though I was lighter than Grant, it was hard to pry my fingers from the cold stone. No matter how much the guy tickled me, I didn't give in.

Then Circul used the unfair trick of letting Barg into the bathroom. I'd never run around Grant's bedroom like that before, fleeing from a barking dog and a robot trying to catch it.

Pug thought it was all a game, the robot thought it was important to save me from the animal before I had a heart attack, and the president's son laughed and cried.

Our morning idyll would have turned into a lunchtime idyll, but Gisborne came in, whacked all four of us on our soft (and some of us plastic) bottoms with a cane, grumbled that he was disturbing his daytime sleep, and sent us all off to community work.

Barg was taken outside to guard the empty booth at the gate, the robot to vacuum the carpets, and Grant and I, as the instigators of the whole mess, were deprived of lunch and forced to peel potatoes under the supervision of the vigilant Midi, who had just arrived from the residence.

Our life at the manor was limited to three main activities. In the evenings, we attended the charity parties of famous companies or the dinners of prominent political figures. No matter how monotonous such days seemed, Kai Asanor and Taehee often brightened the dullness of high society.

At that time, we were very mischievous, but only in small ways, for fear of facing the wrath of Rizor Circul.

As well as attending all sorts of parties, we practised magic. Every three days, the president would send Grant and me to Oblivion so that his son could learn to control his second gift in the Labyrinths while using his first.

Unfortunately, there were no more mages in our country who could control emotions, and the possibilities of such rare abilities could only be learned by trial and error.

And as much as I didn't like this scary magical dimension, it was still a place where Grant could unleash his magic without hurting people. I could feel him on the edge when he hadn't trained for a while, sparks of fire in his hair and anger in his eyes that made us fight twice as often.

Nothing annoyed me more than not being able to slam the door loudly and walk away with my head held high after another argument. I had to pant with rage and endure Grant's angry stare, which chilled my heart and made it hard to think or breathe.

I also kept up with the guy when we were on our own in the vast, deserted world. I found a book of air spells in the library, and with the interest of a sociopathic scientist, I used them on the atmosphere.

A few times Oblivion was hit by hurricane cataclysms of local scale, I liked to summon magical tornadoes and destroy forests, fields and even mountains with them. Only in the Labyrinths of Oblivion was it possible to be yourself, to face your fears, to let go of bad thoughts, to erase the limits of possibility.

After returning from the dimension, I felt surprisingly calm. Even though we were exhausted and had to sleep for twenty-four hours to recover, I had never felt as peaceful as I did after our magical training.

Grant was getting better at controlling his power every day, my magic was growing by leaps and bounds, and we were no longer killing each other to escape to the real world; instead, each time the president dragged us back to reality, it was a disappointment. For a while at least, Oblivion had replaced Virtul for us.

Often, when we had just recovered from another trip to the Labyrinths, we would sit in the small living room by the fireplace. There were always plenty of cushions and delicious food, and Kai would come over to watch us eat and relieve our boredom. Taehee would often join us too, and we could lie on the sofas and carpet and bask in the warmth of the fire all day.

Midi called us ‘lazy cats’, who did nothing but fawn upon her for more sweets. Even Barg, at such times, was infected by the general atmosphere of apathy and slept soundly on his bed.