Waging War | The Amber Duology #1

17 | How to Not Get Stabbed 101

Skylor Chen often had questions. But when Kai tossed a Kali stick in her hands during the morning of another day of training, another one popped into her mind. Is this all worth it? For the first time in a long while, Skylor found herself wondering whether everything she had been through had been worth the trouble of her own dream. Whether risking her life to see past a set of concrete walls had been...worth it.

Perhaps that was the effect of the Brig talking.

Either way, she focused on one thing: proving Kai Smith that he was wrong about her.

"You'll be practicing a new technique." He announced, pacing in front of the initiates as he handed out more of their sparring sticks. "We'll be finding out how effective the workout routine has been on your body." Skylor couldn't care less, she had gotten used to the harsh training so much that she could barely feel her muscles.

"You're weak. You're nothing but another dead body to bury."

The words echoed in her ears, like how it had been since she heard them. Her time alone in the Brig with both Kai and the boy they called Zane had been somewha eventful in its own ways. For instance, Skylor had to get used to listening to the two bicker about random boy things to pass time while she tried to focus on her breathing, the claustrophobia was starting to get to her.

"You know what would be nice?" She had interjected in their conversation. "If we could get some peace and quiet."

From the cell beside her, Kai scoffed. "Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?"

"Perhaps it is best to let her get some rest, Kai." Zane had suggested and Skylor was thankful someone was taking her side. She didn't know the boy, and he didn't know her, but somehow, she had a feeling they would get along—especially if it meant teaming up against the porcupine head.

However, she did not rest that night. Or in the next 3 days that she had spent locked up in her little cell. Something bothered her—more than the smell of iron and her own suffocation, a mere thought that—if left unanswered—would probably consume her mind and leave her restless until she found out the truth.

How's my father doing?

Skylor had been gone for weeks and even she knew Clouse would not be able to come up with an excuse for that long. Her father had been strict about her never leaving the house—often having episodes of rage when she did or when she asked to—so what had he been up to? Skylor came up with three possible answers.

One, he had forgotten all about his daughter and continued running his business.

It was a little far-fetched but Skylor could picture the happiness on her father's face when he realized that his daughter had left the house and decided to go on a suicide mission outside the walls of safety. How he would be free from his duties of becoming a father and would probably not have to worry about keeping her in the house anymore.

With all that free time, Skylor could imagine a new wide-range selection of food on the restaurant's menus. Of course, she had never been to one herself, but she had spent a good amount of time in her father's office practicing her writing while he worked on his business plans.

"Uh-uh, you need to have a soft hand, Skylor." Her father reminded her once he got a good look at the scroll on her table. "We wouldn't want the ink to bleed on the paper."

But would her father really choose his own empire over the only reminder he had of his wife? She doubted it. He never talked about her mother much but Skylor knew what she looked like, and she heard enough from her servants and Clouse about her mother that it felt like she was still there.