Chaos

CHAPTER TWELVE

Chaos

~Ariee~

“Who the hell suggested cooking as a team task?” Lami exasperation as she glared at the paper in her hand.

I bit my lip but she was quick enough to catch it.

“It was you, wasn't it?” She hissed, tossing the paper at me. “You wrote this outrageous idea. Do you think we are slaves that only know manual labor?”

Ouch.

I can't even defend myself on this one.

“Calm down, Lami,” the blonde, whose name I later discovered was Ariel, said. “Can you tell us why you picked cooking?”

Lami huffed. “It's the fact that you assume there is a reason.”

“Actually…” I scratched the corners of my ears. “I just thought we could do something unique, something none of the others would even think of doing.”

Lami, who was busy shaking the box to pick another paper paused.

“I had many ideas, really. Archery, sword dancing, gymnastics…”

“Those are all boyish activities,” Ariel exclaimed, appalled. “We are supposed to do something to promote our feminity and elegance!”

I lowered my head, muttering under my breath. “I did say it was something unique.”

Lami scooted closer. “Why did you think of those?”

I looked up slowly. The tinge of interesy in her eyes made my chest swell with happiness. It's pathetic, I know, but I was genuinely loved it when people actually wanted to listen to me.

“Well…” heat spread to my cheeks. “Think about it. These are Lycans, powerful, rich and influential. They've practically seen it all. Women, beauty, elegance, all of that, not to mention the hundreds of women will are going to be presenting that as the group task, it must be exhausting and there's really nothing to look forward to.”

I waited for them to process the words before continuing. “Cooking, however, is the one thing we cannot predict, especially when it's from other cultures. We are going to be showing them processes some of them probably didn't know existed and they'd be dying to know the results. Was it worth it? Or was it a waste of time? It builds excitement. I believe if we immerse them in our diversity, we have a higher chance of impressing them than going basic.”

By the time I finished speaking, they were looking at me like I emerged from a storybook. My nerves gnawed at me and I quickly withdrew like fhe coward I was.

“Or we can just stick with the basics. We can always outperform others…”

“Brilliant!” Lami cut in with a big grin. I stared in confusion. “I'm totally in for some cooking!”

Oh.

“Me too.”

“Hell yeah!”

Just like that, they were totally bought. My lips curled in a shy smile. I tugged my hair gently behind my already red ears as they cheered me on.

“Uhm so…” I cleared my throat awkwardly. “Can we do a list maybe a list of dishes and assigned the roles according to…” I paused when I saw the instant confusion on their faces. “Is there a problem?”

“Actually… there is,” Lami chuckled nervously. “Which of us is cooking?”

I blinked as the piece clicked.

Don't tell me…

I looked between seven of them. Thoroughly.

“Which of you can actually cook?” I tried to keep my tone hopeful. You know, never judge a book by the very obvious shit cover.

No one said a word and just continued passing my hopeful look to each other.

My shoulders dropped. Seven spoiled princess, huh?

“How about you cook?” Lami smiled brightly. “We can assist with the vegetables. How does that sound?”

“Impossible,” I said as-a-matter-of-factly. “A servant is not allowed to participate in the competition.”

Disappointment clouded their faces. I almost laughed. Did they really expect me to cook for them?

Lami fell back on the grass with a groan. “Just when I thought we had a real shot at winning.”

“What about your mistress, though?” Ariel asked and Lami sprang from the grass immediately.

“Yes, that one. With all her arrogance, she must have taken some culinary classes right?”

Shouldn't I say the same for all of you? They were all spoiled rich women, arrogance had nothing to do with cooking.

“No,” I let out a sigh. “My Lady has never cooked once.” They snorted amongst themselves so I added, “I see it's the same with all of you.”

Their smiles faded quickly.

“So what now? Should we pick something else? We're running out of time,” Lami said.

I was about to respond when we heard screams. Loud, girly screams, that told us something was going down.

There was only two hours left for the task and for some reason, the scream made my mind immediately shift to Fiona.

I was off the grass in a second, running in the direction of the screams.

Please tell me Fiona did not do something. I really want to believe this has nothing to do with her.

The screams grew louder the closer I got, sharp and panicked—desperate.

My heart slammed violently against my ribs.

Please… please don’t let it be her.

I pushed past a cluster of girls who had gathered in a loose circle, their whispers buzzing like flies. None of them stepped in. None of them helped.

Of course they didn’t.

The moment I broke through the crowd, my worst fear came to life.

Fiona.

She was on the ground.

Three women surrounded her—no, not surrounded. Attacking.

One of them had a fist tangled in Fiona’s hair, yanking her head back brutally. Another drove her foot straight into Fiona’s stomach, again and again. The third slapped her across the face so hard her head snapped to the side.

My vision went red.

“What the hell are you doing?!” I shouted, shoving through the last person in my way.

None of them stopped.

Fiona didn’t even scream anymore. She curled into herself, arms wrapped around her head, trying to shield her face.

That broke something in me.

“Hey!” I lunged forward, grabbing the one kicking her and shoving her back with all the strength I had.

She stumbled but didn’t fall. Her sharp eyes snapped to me, filled with annoyance more than anything else.

“And who the hell are you?” she sneered.

“I should be asking you that,” I shot back, stepping in front of Fiona. “Three against one? Are you that pathetic?”

A ripple went through the small crowd.

The girl who had been pulling Fiona’s hair clicked her tongue and let go, dusting her hands like she had just finished a chore.

“Mind your business,” she said flatly. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“It concerns me now.”

I could feel Fiona trembling behind me. That only fueled the fire burning in my chest.

The third girl—the one who slapped her—laughed softly. “Oh? A servant with a backbone. How cute.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t trust myself to.

“Move,” the first one said, her tone dropping. “Or you’ll join her.”

I held her gaze, unflinching.

“No,” I fired. “What did she even do for three of you to gang up on her?”

“Ariee…” Fiona coughed out. I turned to her.

“My Lady, what happened?” My panicked voice was barely recognizable to my own ears. “Why did they gang up on you like that? Should we report the?”

At the mention of the word “report”, they all tensed.

“Woah! Woah! Woah! Slow down!” One of the women angrily yelled. “When she was the one asking for trouble, none of us reported her!”

I was confused at this point.

“What exactly did she do?”

“What did she not do?” Came a retort. “She's been going around sabotaging everybody. She called our costumes hideous and said we looked ridiculous dancing.”

“She said my singing would rupture her eardrums.”

“She ripped my dress and wiped her shoe with it, saying she thought it was rags.”

The complaints were endless and all I could do was stare speechlessly, my jaw almost touching the floor.

I leave her for what? An hour and she has already caused this much trouble?

What the hell was I supposed to do now?