(Pov godwell)
And why is Irene even letting him?
– damn.
I took out my phone.
My thumb hesitated for a moment before selecting his contact.
Iréné .
I took a deep breath.
I admit that without Irene, it would probably have been more complicated to succeed at that speed.
Even though, let's not exaggerate, I'm sure I'm much stronger than him and I'm in high school thanks to the grade I skipped, it's to his advantage to have me on his side.
Isn't that right?
So why is he ignoring me?
I TOLD HIM TO WATCH HÉRÈSE .
Not to protect him.
What is it that he doesn't understand?
I'll cover our backs too.
I hung up on the 3rd call and quickly sent him a message.
"Where are you at with this?"
One tick.
Then two.
I waited.
Nothing.
The seconds stretched on.
The phone remained silent.
A slight crease creased my forehead.
Him too.
He always answered.
Even with a simple "busy" status.
Ever since he started showing me off, I've looked like one of his friends.
I sent a second message.
"Answer me. It's urgent."
Again…
Silence.
My gaze fell upon the time.
It had only been several hours since we had last spoken; he had already disappeared into thin air.
I went back through the thread of our conversation.
I feel like I'm his ex, he has so many.
Irene's last message was from the afternoon.
"Don't worry. Just mind your own business."
Probably in someone else's thighs.
I sighed, annoyed, before slipping my phone into my jacket pocket.
– …
opened the door to my room and walked down the long corridor.
There's no need to warn anyone.
I fastened his jacket with a quick gesture and crossed the hall without slowing down.
But I barely reached the gate.
BIP ! BIP !
A black sedan pulled up in front of the house.
A figure descended, François.
As usual, his face showed nothing.
I unconsciously slowed myself down.
For a moment, part of me hoped that François would at least give me a look.
Nothing.
He walked past me with the same indifference he would have shown to a servant.
Without a word.
Without even turning his head.
His attention was already turned towards the residence.
I gave a wry smile.
Obviously…
What I expected.
François had always been interested in only one person in that house.
HÉRÈSE .
The rest barely existed in his eyes.
He goes to comfort the princess.
I discreetly clenched my fists.
A day...
You will have no other choice but to follow me.
I looked away from his back, pulled the hood of my jacket over my head, and left the property without looking back.
The cool night air arrived and slapped me in the face.
Each step took me a little further away from the noise of the house.
I needed to think about something else.
Or rather...
To hit something else.
My feet led me almost instinctively towards the arenas.
At this time, the official training sessions were over, only the newcomers who wanted to join the group remained.
The ambitious ones.
Those who dreamed of climbing the ranks by proving their worth.
No sooner had I passed through the heavy gates of the arena than the din of the fights replaced the silence of the street.
Cheers erupted from the stands.
The dull thud of blows echoed off the stone.
The smell of dust and sweat filled the air.
It's truly unbearable.
Some fighters even interrupted their warm-up when they recognized me.
Murmurs rippled through the stands.
– It's Godwell...
– The deputy chief.
– The White Hand has arrived.
They immediately stood up.
Others instinctively looked away.
I climbed to the highest point of the stands, paying them no attention whatsoever.
My gaze was mostly scanning the various mentors.