The Iron Hallway

Chapter 11

(Abigail's POV) 

I awoke with a yawn the next morning and sat up in bed. My sleep had been both comfortable and apparently undisturbed, which was reassuring. 

Until I saw that. 

As I glanced over at the wall nearest my window, I saw a crumbled paper riveted to the wood by an arrow. Though the sight initially terrified me, my curiosity won and I instinctively rose to investigate. 

I yanked the arrow out of the wall and dropped it. With shaky hands, I unfolded the paper and read the scarlet handwriting. It read, "You don't know who I am, but I know who you are. I understand why you wouldn't trust me, but it would be in your best interest to do so. Choose the brighter path." 

Whatever that means. I thought. 

Brushing the matter aside, I crumbled the paper and tossed it into the waste bin. As it hit the bottom, a sharp rap on the door snatched my attention. With a huff, I stomped over to the door. 

"Who is it?" I demanded as I opened the door. 

An olive-skinned man with greasy, slicked-back hair gazed at me with his beady eyes. He seemed confused. "Umm...I was sent to see if you were awake, madame." 

I raised an eyebrow. "Well that's new. I don't know how I feel about being called that." 

"Ultimately, that is irrelevant to me. Emperor Pietrovo's personal film director, Jamente Wanzo wishes to meet with you as soon as you are able. He awaits you in the banquet hall." 

"They don't waste any time, do they?" 

"I suppose not. When may you be ready, that I may come and escort you there?" 

After a moment of thought, I shrugged. "I can go now." 

The man raised his eyebrow. "You aren't ...groomed, though. Don't you want to make a good impression?" 

"Ultimately, that's irrelevant to you, mister. Now take me where I need to go." 

With a shrug, the servant turned. "Very well then." 

I quickly slipped my shoes on, and then I silently followed the greasy-haired servant down the lavishly-decorated hallways of the palace. It seemed every new section of walkway had a different color and pattern of carpet, yet they all charmingly blended into one another...somehow. All was perfect order among the guards lining the walls as well. They treated me with utmost respect. 

Finally, I was ushered into the royal banquet hall, where hundreds of empty tables waited. Only one single table was occupied, by one single occupant. He was a grave, silvery-haired man who eyed me curiously as I took a seat. 

I gave him a smile full of professionalism, but lacking any real depth. "Hello, I'm Abigail Wilde, and I presume you're Jamente Wanzo?" 

The man nodded. "That I am. It is a pleasure to meet you, darling." 

My first instinct was to recoil at the pet name he'd addressed me with. After all, only Baird got to call me that without repercussions. But nonetheless, this man eyed me with a rather disinterested appraisal that eased my mind a bit. 

"I'm glad to meet you too." I finally replied. "So, you're a...director?" 

Jamente nodded. "I am. Emperor Pietrovo's personal film director." 

"I've heard that much already. He seems to take much delight in me." 

Jamente closed his eyes and bobbed his head. "I suppose he would. He has quite an eye for the...choice and fair ladies."