The Cost

"What am I doing here?"

Veretta was shoved into a gilded chair at the end of a long table. The entire room was extravagantly dressed. Across the expanse of the table, there was an exotic assortment of food. They were matched in decoration by an array of pale white roses strewn across the table. Large candelabras lit up the table at intervals. Above Veretta's head hung a glass chandelier. She had never looked up to inspect the ceiling in a room before. However, her eyes were immediately drawn to the rich and precise fresco above her head depicting a version of some long-forgotten hell. In the corner, the hearth raged, envigorating the figures in the painting mysteriously.

Veretta had the feeling that she too was in some nether region beyond the reach of light. After a night in the cold dungeon cell, spent on a hard and damp floor, there was no other way of seeing it. She imagined whoever would arrive at the other end of the table would likely cast her sentence. She would be killed and Silthus would win. It didn't sting as it had done before, rather Veretta felt numb. Her naivety had once more endangered her friends, perhaps this would be retribution for her sins.

The beauty of the room only seemed to mock her. Only an hour ago, she was still covered in mud and congealed blood from her injuries. The phantom-like figures that pervaded Silthus' castle had ushered her into a dark and tight green dress. She was dressed like an aristocrat. Would Silthus go so far just to mock her?

Veretta sank into the floral chair gilded in gold and surveyed the food on the table. Her stomach pained and her throat felt dry. Perhaps, this was meant as torture? She imagined Tomas and Yona in the dank of the dungeons hidden away somewhere and wondered if they fared any better.

"Aren't you a pretty little thing?" came a voice from behind Veretta.

Veretta turned rapidly, almost springing from the chair in anticipation. Behind her, there was a woman dressed from head to foot in bright red. She was far taller and broader than Veretta. The dress she wore was almost ridiculously frilled and puffed out so that no matter where you looked a childish bow could be found at almost every angle. Though beyond this initial shock, came a great sense of dread. As Veretta looked into the woman's maniacal blue eyes, she wondered if this is how she would die.

"Woman to woman," Cora spun around, "What do you think of this dress?"

Veretta stared at the flamboyant red enterprise with hesitation, "Honestly, I don't like it,"

"Why not?" Cora replied with intense eyes.

"I think it suits your complexion well, but the shape is not flattering," Veretta answered point-blank.

Cora's lips spread into a wide grin, "An honest woman!" she exclaimed, "how refreshing,"

It was as Veretta had sensed. Had she lied to that woman, in that same instance, she probably would have been killed. Cora's nauseous and chaotic energy was faintly pulsating through the air like a perfect storm. Veretta had only sensed such malevolent energy in Silthus himself.

"I'm Cora," she announced.

"Veretta," Veretta frowned.

"Veretta," Cora mused, "Meaning 'a symbol of love' ?"

"Yes," Veretta paused, "My parents named me as a symbol of their love,"

"Rather selfish, don't you think?" Cora pushed past Veretta and dug her hand into the feast hungrily. She turned back with a handful full grapes half shoved into her mouth.

"I mean, it's as if..." Cora laughed with an open mouth, "...you had no purpose other than to fulfil your parents desire. Well, I suppose that's no different from any other child. At least your parents were honest about it,"

Veretta stared at her in silence for a moment, "Why did you bring me here? Surely it wasn't just to mock my parent?"

"I didn't bring you here," Cora sat down in the chair Veretta had been sitting in and continued to eat, "I'm just here to watch the disaster that's about to unfold,"

"What are you talking about?" Veretta stared down at her uncomprehendingly.

"I assume she's talking about me," Michael stared down at Cora hostilely.

Veretta turned slowly, her expression darkened. Her body became rigidly still and her fists clenched. Michael glanced at her balled hand and then back to Veretta's steely emerald gaze.

He walked right past her to the table and began pouring a glass of wine without saying another word. When the glass was filled, he turned back to Veretta with the glass outstretched in his hand.

"It's not poisoned, as Cora has taken upon herself to demonstrate," he said in a low voice.

For a moment Veretta just stared at the glass. Suddenly she slapped the glass from Michael's hand and it shatter upon the carpet painting it rouge. Cora spluttered a mouthful of food as her bellowing laughter filled the room. Meanwhile, Veretta and Michael glared at each other in silence.

"Don't be stupid," Michael frowned, "I see that you are angry, but I am not here to fight with you,"

"Then what are you here to do?" Veretta returned tempestuously, "Is this my last meal? You needn't have bothered! I was a fool for trusting you. I won't make the same mistake again. Ace was right. Everything you offer is poisoned. You poison it with your wickedness,"

Michael smiled darkly, "You make it sound like you have somewhere better to be. The dungeon perhaps?"

"Cheap threats?" Veretta raised an eyebrow unsympathetically, "pathetic,"

"I guess..." Michael took a berry from the table and popped it into his mouth indifferently, "....you're not hungry then?"

Veretta's stomach turned. She glanced back angrily, "Careful you don't choke on it. What a shame that would be,"

"You're being childish, you know," Michael took a plate from the table. One by one he began to fill the plate with a helping of each morsel set out until the plate was piled to the brim. Veretta watched him hesitantly. He placed the plate at the opposite end of the table.

"I'm leaving soon," he began, "I don' know when I will return. So who knows when you will eat again? You ought to take your fill," he gave a shrug.

"He's right," Cora giggled as she continued with a feast of her own.

"How will you plot your miraculous escape if you're too weak to walk?" Michael grinned, "Is your pride really worth your life? Your friends' lives?"

Veretta swallowed as her eyes bore into the plate. She stepped towards him still staring down at the plate. However, she stopped just short dragging her eyes up with a great force of will. She turned back to Michael. He was waiting with a satisfied smirk.

"And what is the cost for your generosity?" Veretta interrogated.

"I'll decide when I return," Michael smiled, "it won't be cheap. Cheap threats are pathetic after all,"

"You want something from me?" Veretta's eyes narrowed.

"Correct," Michael answered categorically, "something only you can give,"

"and if I were to refuse?" Veretta rejoined cuttingly.

"Then you refuse," Michael scoffed, "I'm not in the habit of asking twice. If you want to starve to death in Silthus' dungeon that is your prerogative. I won't stop you. On the other hand, who knows what could happen if you accept? I might fall blindly in love with you again and in a fit of passion, set you free. Unlikely, but you could try to seduce me,"

"Don't flatter yourself," Veretta scoffed, "I was only interested in your second chance, Michael because that was the right thing to do,"

"Is that so?" Michael mused, "Well, let me put it another way. This is could be the start of a fruitful relationship or it can be the last time you and I see each other. Choose wisely,"

Veretta stared down at the plate once more. He was right. Regardless, of his intentions, this might be her only chance to save everyone. While it would be impossible to seduce Michael, she could possibly lower his guard enough to find his weakness. At any rate, it was better than sitting in the dungeon with no hope at all.

"Fine," Veretta exhaled begrudgingly.

"Then," Michael raised his empty glass, "To our new friendship and your impending usefulness,"

He swung out of his chair and took Veretta by the hand leading her to the seat.

"You're leaving?" Veretta questioned finding herself with the plate of food in front of her.

"Yes, evil to do; Wickedness to proliferate; weaknesses to exploit and so forth," Michael gestured with a half-hearted wave, "Enjoy your food. Perhaps, you'll enjoy Cora's company more than mine, though I doubt it,"

"Such a rude snake!" Cora rejoined from the other side of the table. She was barely visible under the mountain of food on her plate.

"I trust you'll behave," Micahel eyed her severely, "Or Silthus will be told that you have ruined my reward,"

"HA!" Cora exclaimed in irritation, "as I matter of fact, I like this doll-faced wench. She's honest - unlike you,"

Michael's eyes narrowed, "I don't want to hear about honesty from you, witch,"

He turned and marched out of the room. Veretta watched him leave still in doubt about what she had just witnessed. Michael stepping in to save her? No! -Veretta remind herself aggressively of the price of the food before her. Nevertheless, she would eat and when the time was right, she would plot Michael's downfall, release her friends and be free from this nightmare once and for all...