The two unconscious scavengers lay motionless in the dirt, their petty dreams of robbery fading into the hum of the Wasteland wind. Aris stood over them for all of three seconds, her gaze sharp and calculating, already weighing the value of every last thing they owned.
Kael watched her from the side, still bound, still quietly stunned by the absolute lack of sentiment in every move she made. To most people, this was a victory—a narrow escape, a moment to breathe. To Aris? It was a shopping opportunity.
"Don't even think about it," he said before she could move.
Aris blinked, looking up at him like he'd just spoken nonsense. "Think about what?"
"About looting them," Kael said. "They're defeated. They pose no threat. Leave them."
Aris stared at him as if he'd grown a second head, a third arm, and a tail made of rusted bolts. For a long moment, she just… blinked. Then she burst out laughing—a sharp, disbelieving sound that carried on the wind.
"Leave them?" she repeated, grinning like he'd told the funniest joke in history. "Sweetheart, this is the Wasteland. I don't 'leave' perfectly good salvage lying around just because they're unconscious. That's not morality. That's bad business."
She knelt down without waiting for his reply, her hands already moving. She patted down the first scavenger quickly, efficiently, her fingers finding a crumpled handful of coins, a dull pocket knife, and a half-eaten strip of dried meat. She tossed the coins and the knife into her bag, then eyed the dried meat with clear distaste.
"Probably rotten," she muttered, dropping it back onto the man's chest. "Not worth the stomachache."
She moved to the second man, repeating the process. This one had a slightly better knife, a small roll of bandages, and a tiny, nearly empty vial of cheap alcohol. Aris pocketed all of it, her movements practiced and unhurried.
Kael watched, speechless.
He was used to people bowing. To people fearing him. To people obeying without question. But he had never met anyone who could dismiss his words so completely, so casually, as if he was nothing more than a child complaining about the weather.
"You have no respect for anyone," he said flatly.
Aris stood up, brushing the dust off her knees, and slung her backpack back into place. She met his gaze, her eyes cold and clear and utterly unapologetic.
"Respect is a luxury I can't afford," she said calmly. "In the Wasteland, respect doesn't fill your stomach. Respect doesn't purify your water. Respect doesn't stop a bullet. So I don't waste energy on it. I waste it on surviving."
She paused, then added, dry as the desert, "Besides. I respect you plenty. I'm keeping you alive until I can sell you. That's basically a love letter, by my standards."
Kael's jaw tightened. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. There was no arguing with that logic—twisted as it was.
Aris grinned, clearly enjoying his frustration. She reached out and gave the rope around his wrists a light, teasing tug.
"Come on, bodyguard," she said. "We've got a long walk ahead, and I'd like to reach Scrap Corner before I'm forced to share more of my precious water with you. Try not to mope. It's unattractive on merchandise."
She turned and started walking, her steps light and purposeful, leaving Kael to follow in her wake.
The sun continued to sink, painting the sky in violent shades of orange and purple. The temperature dropped, and a thin, cold wind began to blow, carrying with it the faint, distant howl of some Wasteland creature.
Aris didn't flinch. She didn't slow. She just kept moving, her mind already racing ahead—calculating prices, mapping routes, weighing risks and rewards.
Kael followed, his golden eyes fixed on her back.
He had led armies. He had conquered fortresses. He had outmaneuvered enemies twice as cunning as any scavenger. But this small, sharp, unbreakable girl? She confused him. She infuriated him. And against every instinct in his body, he found himself… intrigued.
She wasn't like anyone he had ever known.
She didn't want power. She didn't want glory. She didn't want loyalty or followers or a kingdom.
She just wanted coins.
And water.
And to be left alone to profit from the broken world around her.
In a twisted way, Kael almost admired it.
Almost.
They walked in silence for nearly an hour, the only sounds their boots crunching on gravel and the wind whispering through the ruins. Aris led him through narrow, winding paths that no outsider would ever find, her knowledge of the Wasteland so complete it was like she could see the map in her head.
Finally, as the first stars began to prick the darkening sky, she stopped.
They stood at the top of a small hill, looking down at a cluster of ramshackle buildings and makeshift tents huddled between collapsed skyscrapers. Smoke curled from a dozen small fires, and faint, distant voices drifted up to them on the wind.
Scrap Corner.
Aris smiled, sharp and satisfied.
"Home sweet home," she said. "Welcome to the only market in this half of the Wasteland where you can sell a warlord and not get shot immediately. Probably."
Kael looked down at the small, rough settlement, then back at her.
"You're not worried about being betrayed?" he asked. "About them taking me by force and leaving you with nothing?"
Aris laughed, a short, confident sound.
"Please," she said. "I've been trading here for two years. I know everyone's price. I know everyone's secrets. I know who's stupid enough to cross me and who's smart enough to pay. I'll get my coins. Don't you worry about that."
She tightened her grip on the rope and started down the hill, pulling Kael along behind her.
"Just remember our deal," she said over her shoulder, her voice casual but firm. "You behave. You stay quiet. You don't scare the customers. And in return, I don't let anyone kill you before the auction. Got it?"
"Loud and clear," Kael said dryly.
"Good," Aris said cheerfully. "Because I've got a feeling this is going to be the most profitable sale of my life. And I intend to enjoy every second of it."
As they descended toward the flickering lights of Scrap Corner, Kael couldn't help but wonder.
What had he gotten himself into?
And more importantly…
How was he going to get out of it?