A Runaway's Desperate Plea

Aria's hand gripped the door handle, her heart still pounding from the encounter with General Azneil.

The way he'd said her name—smooth, almost too familiar—had unsettled her.

She wasn't sure why, but it was as if he'd peeled back the first layer of her armor, just for a second, and she hated the feeling 

She could feel her pulse in her temples, the adrenaline coursing through her in a fiery, erratic rhythm. She just needed to disappear, to catch her nerves in a few quiet breaths. For a moment, she could pretend she wasn't in the heart of enemy territory.

 So here she was, slipping into the nearest washroom, needing a moment to herself.

As the cold water hit her face, she felt the sting, a sharp, grounding relief that steadied her pulse.

Her gaze lifted to the mirror.

The bruises on her neck were blooming in angry purple and blue, a souvenir from her earlier clash with Darius, well, not entirely a clash because she was entirely at his mercy. She ran a finger over them, her lips pressing into a thin line.

Another mark. Another reason to get even.

But just as she steadied herself, a crash jolted her, and she straightened, water still dripping from her face. The sound had come from one of the stalls.

She turned, calling out, "Hello? Who's there?"

No answer.

Her gaze narrowed. She slipped off her heels, padding softly toward the sound.

"Look, I don't know what you're up to in there, but if you're planning on surprising me, I'll warn you now---I don't play nice."

A shuffle. A sharp intake of breath. And she knew someone was hiding.

With a swift motion, she grabbed the stall door handle, counting down, her body tense, ready to face whatever might be waiting.

Five four three—she yanked it open, her mind prepared for anything—or so she thought. 

The woman inside the stall looked like a startled deer, her amber eyes wild, her brown locks wildly twisted in a messy bun, her breath coming in gasps. She was half-scrambled onto the toilet, one leg already hooked out the window. Her silver stiletto-clad foot dangled from the ledge, and her gown—a formal sheath, just like Aria's—was bunched up to her pale white knees.

Before Aria could react, a stiletto shoe flew through the air, aimed right at her face. She dodged, the shoe narrowly missing her cheek. 

"Hey! Watch it!"

"Get away from me!" 

"Whoa, whoa, easy, lady. I'm not the enemy here."

"Stay back!" the woman's voice wavered, but her other shoe was already in hand, aimed and ready.

Aria put her hands up in surrender, keeping her distance.

"Relax! I'm clear over here and unless you've got more shoes to throw, I think we're past the dangerous part. Trust me, those shoes don't hurt as much as you think."

The woman hesitated, her eyes still wary, but she seemed to loosen her grip on the wall. Another shoe sailed her way, and Aria sidestepped, unimpressed.

"Seriously?" Aria rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "Wasn't one enough?"

The woman took a shaky breath, looking as though she was debating whether to throw her purse next. But Aria, seeing her agitation, softened her tone.

"Alright, let's try this again I'm not here to rat you out So why don't you just… stop trying to hit me for a second? I'm just trying to figure out what on Askan you're doing. And I never thought I'd ever utter this statement. Anyway, so?"

"Just--- stay away or I... I will—"

"Or you'll what? Unless you're hiding a third shoe, you're out of ammo."

The woman hesitated, eyes narrowing as if trying to decide whether to trust her. Slowly, she lowered her leg back to the toilet, jumped down, and straightened, but kept one hand on the window. Her face was flushed, her eyes darting around as if expecting an ambush.

Aria recognized that look—a mix of fear and desperation.

"What's going on? Tell me. Got the urge to disappear, or is this some kind of late-night adventure?"

"I'm--I'm trying to leave I—I need to get out of here. But he won't let me go "

"Who's 'HE'?" Aria's brow lifted, leaning against the stall door. "A jealous lover, a vengeful guard? Or is this just a really elaborate way of dodging a boring date?"

The woman swallowed, her gaze dropping.

"Archon Orlin. He's… he's taken a liking to me. He thinks he owns me that I'm his… property."

Her voice cracked on the last word, and she shook her head, disgust painted across her features.

Aria's eyes flickered with understanding.

This wasn't just a pretty woman in a silver dress. This was someone trapped by the very people who thought they owned everything. Her jaw tightened. She'd heard stories about the nobles' sense of entitlement, but seeing the fear in this woman's face struck a different chord.

"I never thought I'd see the day when a paramour wanted to skip town over a Kherosi noble." 

The woman's lip curled in disgust.

"Paramour? I didn't choose this. They dress us up, throw us to them to do anything with us, but it's all the same—they treat us like possessions. I'd rather risk running and dying than stay one more day under their gaze."

"So, you're serious. It's your last decision?"

The woman nodded.

"I'm just trying to escape, but… it's not that easy. They keep tabs on us, lock the doors, and watch our movements. I don't care how much they pay, or how fancy these gowns are. This life—it's a cage, and it's suffocating."

Aria felt a pulse of anger on her behalf. She knew that feeling all too well. It wasn't just her fight for freedom she was witnessing—it was the desperation of every person enslaved under the nobles' thumb.

"Look Lady, you won't get far in that dress, with these shoes. Even if you make it out of here, they'll find you before you reach the gates."

The woman's grip on the window sill tightened, her knuckles turning white. Then she seemed to gather her courage, taking a step toward Aria. She reached out, clasping Aria's hand in a tight, desperate grip.

"You're a Terran fighter, right? The one they say survived her first fight?"

"Maybe I am. Depends on who's asking."

The woman's face twisted, part hopeful, part terrified. Aria could see tears glistening in her amber eyes.

"Please, you have to help me. I don't want this life. I can't be someone's plaything."

Aria tried to pull her hand free, shaking her head.

"Look, I'm on a tight schedule myself tonight----"

"Please," the woman's hand clung tight to Aria's. "There's someone waiting outside the capital. He's risking his life, too, and all I need is to get to him. Just get me past the gates. Please. We've been planning this for months… a chance to start fresh, to live somewhere far from all this, ugliness."

Aria tugged her hand back gently.

"I've made enough waves tonight as it is, trust me. The nobles already know my name and my face, and if I'm caught helping a paramour escape… Let's just say I'm done courting trouble tonight."

The woman's lip trembled, but she clung to Aria's hand, again, her eyes pleading.

"Please, you don't understand---"

"I do. But, do you really think you can outrun them all? You're one of his girls, which means they'll hunt you down before you get out of the capital."

"Not if I have you to help me. He… he's everything to me. We have plans—a life together, a real home in the mountains. A life that's ours."

Aria's gaze softened. She knew what it was like to want to escape, to dream of something beyond the relentless grind of survival. But she didn't want to give false hope.

"It's risky. Even if we get out of here, there's no guarantee they won't track you."

The woman's shoulders sagged, and she dropped Aria's hand, finally.

"I know," she whispered, her face dropping into her hands. "But I don't have a choice" She looked back up at Aria. "I don't want to bring my child into this hell."

Aria's heart skipped a beat, her body went still.

"A… child?"

The word slipped out before she could stop it.

The woman nodded.

"Yes. I'm pregnant. And I want my baby to have a chance at something real, something better than what I've known."

Aria looked away, the woman's words slicing through her. She barely remembered her mother's face, but she remembered her mother's words: "Help those who are in need, because someday, when you're the one in need, you'll want someone to do the same for you."

Aria's gaze shifted back to the woman as she sobbed, seeing her tear-streaked face, her trembling hands, her determination—they all pulled at something Aria had tried hard to bury.

This wasn't just a paramour; this was a mother willing to fight for her child's future.

But Aria had to be sure she couldn't just let her emotions cloud her judgment. 

"Do you trust this guy? Because I'm damn sure you fell in love with a Kherosi, didn't you?" 

The woman nodded, catching her breath, and wiping her tears harshly.

"I do, I trust him. And, yes, I fell in love with a Kherosi. But he's not like any of them, he's been everything I've ever wanted, he cares for me, he respects me, and he's more than just a dream. He's real."

Aria drew in a slow breath.

"So… you want me to help you break out of the lion's den because of a 'dream'?"

"Because it's my only chance. I can't raise my child here—not in a life where we're pawns. I want my child to know freedom, not to be raised like I was, not in the shadows of the powerful."

Aria closed her eyes, fighting the memories that clawed their way to the surface, of a life she had fought tooth and nail to survive.

Finally, she opened her eyes, gazing down at the woman. She reached out, brushing a tear from the woman's cheek, her own heart softening.

"Alright, I'll help you. But don't go thinking this is anything but a favor."

The woman's face split in a teary, relieved smile. Her fingers wrapped around Aria's wrist, she whispered

"Thank you. Thank you so much"

Aria patted her hand, the familiar fire back in her eyes.

"Don't worry about it Besides, I think it's about time I tried breaking some rules for a good cause. Following them hasn't exactly worked out tonight, has it?"

She glanced back at the door, formulating a plan.

"Let's break a few more before the night's over."