SILVER'S POV
I was already late. I knew Zoah was probably losing his patience, but you couldn't blame me. Sir Belema had gone off script again. His lecture ran over time, and he hijacked an extra thirty minutes that weren't even his. I would've walked out, but his infamous rule still stood: "Don't come in after me, and don't leave before me." Breaking that meant automatic disqualification from the exam. And the last thing I needed was to wait another year to retake Biomedical Statistics.
The course was already a nightmare, resitting it would be a full blown tragedy.
"Gentlemen and ladies, at this point, let's call it a day," Sir Belema finally announced.
I exhaled in relief, shoved my books into my bag, and dashed for the door without saying goodbye to anyone. But luck wasn't on my side.
I ran straight into Ray.
Holy shit. I cursed inwardly, but forced a smile. "Hi, Ray."
"Silver. How are you doing?" he asked, eyes bright.
"I'm good. And you?"
"Good too." He hesitated for a second. "I was wondering if you'd be free this weekend?"
I sighed. "Sorry to disappoint you, but my schedule's packed. Actually, I'm in a bit of a hurry right now, so if you don't mind..."
I tried to walk past, but he suddenly grabbed my wrist and yanked me back.
I froze.
"What's the meaning of this?" My voice was calm, too calm.
"I should be asking you that. What have I done wrong, Silver? Every time I ask you out, you find a new excuse to turn me down. I'm not a fool. I won't let you leave until you tell me why you've been avoiding me."
"Alright," I said evenly. "I will. But first, have you forgotten it's not exactly gentlemanly to get aggressive with a lady? Let go of my hand, and I'll tell you what you want to know."
He stared at me for a bit. "Do we have an agreement on that?" he asked.
I nodded reassuringly. He sighed and finally let go of my hand, and that was when it hit me. He actually had a soft spot for me. What a pity.
The moment he released me, I zoomed off. Agreement be damned. Whatever I had with Ray was buried in the past. The future had nothing to offer us, not together.
I eventually found Zoah, standing in the open, staring into space like a sculpture carved by gods. As always, he was devastatingly handsome. His eyes met mine, and a deep frown crept across his face.
"Hi," I greeted, approaching him.
"Is this your definition of being on time?" he asked, the frown deepening.
"At least I showed up," I replied coolly.
"Am I supposed to be grateful for that?" he scoffed with trademark arrogance.
I smiled but said nothing. Turning around, I started walking, and he silently followed. We moved together for about twenty minutes, the silence between us louder than words.
Finally, we arrived at a quiet compound. I walked up to the front door and knocked. After a few seconds, it opened and a little boy stood in the doorway. His expression darkened the moment he saw me, and he made a face like he'd tasted something bitter.
Clearly, I wasn't welcome.
But I wasn't here to be turned away.
I made a terrible face back at him. He stuck out his tongue. I returned the gesture. He rolled his eyes, I mirrored him perfectly, move for move. Like I said, I wasn't going anywhere.
"Luke, who's at the door?" a familiar voice called from inside.
"No one," Luke replied.
"Someone!" I shouted back.
"A nuisance," he grumbled.
"An honoured guest," I corrected.
"Silver? Is that you?" the voice asked again.
"Maybe. Or perhaps it's my ghost," I teased.
"Luke, let her in," the voice ordered.
"Grandpa, she's not alone," Luke warned.
I rolled my eyes. "Move aside," I muttered, gently shoving him out of the way as I opened the door. I stepped in, ushering Zoah inside after me. But not before sticking my tongue out one last time at Luke and whispering,
"You'll miss me when I'm gone."
"I won," I said with a smirk.
"Remind me of your age again," Zoah asked once we were inside.
"Twenty. Why?"
"You don't behave like a twenty years old lady."
I smiled sweetly. "Awwn, thanks for the compliment."
"Hi, Uncle," I greeted after realizing someone had been staring at us the whole time.
"What are you doing here?" Mr. Charles asked, unimpressed.
"I don't know. I just found myself here, maybe I was drugged or teleported or something," I said with a dramatic shrug. "You should be happy to see your beloved niece."
His eyes narrowed. "Who is he?"
"A friend. Someone you should get acquainted with. His name is Zoah," I replied, then turned toward Zoah, only to frown. There he was, already seated gracefully like some demigod, while I was still standing.
I quickly sat down beside him.
"Mr. Charles, he needs your help," I began. "He's searching for four rare herbs to heal someone important to him."
There was a long, heavy pause.
"And why should I help him?" he finally asked.
"You're not helping him. You're helping me," I said firmly.
"And why should I help you?"
"I'm your beloved niece. We're family and family helps each other."
"We're enemies," he said coldly. "Hatred runs deep in our veins. You shouldn't even be here."
"But I am," I countered. "Maybe we're not enemies after all."
There was a beat of silence before he let out a reluctant sigh. "I must be insane... but why can't I refuse you?"
"I told you, I'm your beloved niece," I said, flashing a cheeky grin.
"What exactly does he want?"
"Some herbs, named after letters of the alphabet. Mysterious herbs for a man just as mysterious."
"There are only five herbs, and their names are kept secret. Most people use acronyms to refer to them," Mr. Charles began, his eyes fixed on Zoah. "One of them is relatively easy to find, but the remaining four are rare, highly sought after and fiercely competed for. A blend of all five can cure even the most incurable illness."
"That's correct," Zoah spoke for only the second time.
"You must understand," Mr. Charles continued, "no one has ever successfully gathered all five herbs. The risks are too many, the dangers too great."
"You're wrong," Zoah countered calmly. "Two people have gotten all five. Have you forgotten?"
Mr. Charles blinked in disbelief. "Don't bring immortals into this. No human has ever obtained all five herbs. Wait a minute… human?" His disbelief sharpened.
"Will you help me?" Zoah asked directly.
"I will after you tell me who you really are."
"I am Zoah," he said simply, "and I seek those herbs to save Violet. Do those names ring a bell?"
"Lord Lugard?" Zoah called Mr Charles.
"Lord Lugard?" I echoed, frowning. "Who's that?"
"Mr. Charles," Uncle corrected him hastily. "I'll help you… but my cover must not be blown."
Now hold on, what was going on here?
"What cover?" I asked, looking from one man to the other. "What am I missing? How do you two know each other?"
"Silver," Uncle said, a warning edge to his voice. "You shouldn't always be so curious. Curiosity kills the cat."
I wasn't buying it. I turned to Zoah, silently demanding answers.
"He's right," Zoah said softly. "Some things are better left unsaid."
I realized pressing them now would be useless. But I wouldn't let it go. I'd investigate. I had to know: Who was Lord Lugard? How did Uncle know Zoah? And most of all… who exactly was the man I was falling for?
I exhaled sharply and shifted the topic.
"Fine. Whatever. Where can we find Herb B?" I asked Uncle.
"You came at the right time," Uncle said, his tone unusually serious. "Herb B can only be obtained through a competition taking place in a fortnight."
"What kind of competition?" I asked, eyes narrowing.
"You'll find out when you get there," he replied cryptically. "I'll handle Zoah's enrollment."
His voice faded as my mind drifted, Lord Lugard. The name echoed in my thoughts, refusing to let go. There was more to this than they were letting on.
As we prepared to leave, Uncle suddenly returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He poured, then raised his glass.
"To victory," he said solemnly. "May the best competitor win."
"May the best competitor win," Zoah echoed, lifting his glass in return.
I rolled my eyes, muttering under my breath, "Forget victory what I need is to uncover every damn mystery surrounding me."