Andrew inhaled sharply, feeling the pressure of the moment like a physical weight. Sixty seconds. He had presented quarterly reports to bored executives with less stress than this.
"There is a place," Andrew started, his words tumbling out fast. "An island that isn't on any map. The locals call it the Emerald Throat. It's a legend—a graveyard for ships and a paradise for fools. They say it's untouched. They say it holds the kind of treasure that nations would kill for."
Evangeline scoffed, her lip curling. "Fairy tales? You stopped me for fairy tales?"
"It's real!" Andrew insisted, stepping closer despite the sword. "I have the map. I have the key. But the legend also says the island 'eats the lonely.' It's a death trap for a single man."
"So you need a bodyguard," she said, her voice flat. "Go hire a mercenary. There are plenty of drunks in the tavern who would love to die for your gold."
"I don't need a drunk. I need a Sword," Andrew said, meeting her intense green gaze. "I have a Shield—a man strong enough to hold back a mountain. But we need someone who can cut through the darkness. Someone who moves like water and strikes like lightning. We need you."
Evangeline's grip on her hilt tightened. "And what makes you think I want to leave Lidiana? Maybe I like the applause."
"You hate the applause," Andrew countered. "I saw your face in the arena. You looked bored. You looked trapped. You're fighting for scraps in a town that despises you because you're better than their sons."
That hit home. He saw a flicker of pain in her eyes, quickly masked by anger.
"You don't know me," she whispered dangerously.
"I know you're looking for a way out," Andrew pressed. "This isn't just a treasure hunt, Evangeline. We're not doing this for glory. My Shield... his name is Bruce. He has a daughter, Anna. She's dying. A sickness the doctors can't name. We're going to that island to find a cure, or the money to buy one. We are fighting for a life."
The silence in the jungle was absolute. The wind stopped rustling the leaves. Evangeline looked at Andrew, really looked at him, searching for the deception.
"A sick child," she murmured, her voice losing its razor edge. She looked down at her crimson blade, seeing her own reflection in the steel.
"Forty seconds," Andrew breathed. "I'm not asking you to trust me blindly. Come meet them. Meet Bruce. Meet Anna. Look them in the eye. If you think I'm lying, or if you think we're not worth your blade... you walk away. No hard feelings."
Evangeline stood motionless for a long moment. She sheathed her katana with a slow, deliberate click.
"The Emerald Throat," she said quietly, almost to herself. "My grandfather used to tell me stories about it. He said it was where the world kept its secrets."
She looked back up at Andrew. The coldness was still there, but the murderous intent had receded.
"I'll meet your Shield," she said. "But know this, 'Captain' Andrew. If I smell a trap, or if I think you're wasting my time... the deal is off. And I won't be as polite next time."
Andrew let out a breath that felt like it had been held for a lifetime. "Deal."
She gestured with her head back toward the town. "Lead the way. And try to keep up. I don't walk slow."