Willow blinked nervously as she moved closer to Navian. The cafeteria was sleek and modern. White and grey tones dominated the space, with chairs and tables arranged neatly. The sweet, delicious scent of food filled the air.
But it was also filled with Ascendants, some accompanied by their Fodders. Not a single one of them was a Dreg, which made the entire cafeteria vibrate with low murmurs and sidelong glances.
As soon as Navian took a seat in a corner away from the others, Willow noted that he wasn't a people person. The way he rubbed his forehead and yawned softly made it obvious he wasn't a morning person either.
Willow was about to sit down when her stomach grumbled again, but she froze, refusing to show any sign that she was hungry. Dregs were expected to eat early before anyone else arrived. No one wanted to see Dregs around while they enjoyed their food.
Her face creased in annoyance at the thought, but the moment Navian's head turned toward her, those silver eyes narrowing behind his glasses, the annoyance vanished.
Why did he choose her? He could have just punished her or something when he found her in Ezrik's room.
"Grab me a chicken salad and black coffee. No milk, no sugar," he said flatly.
Willow nodded and turned to leave. But just as she took her first step, her stomach let out an embarrassingly loud growl. She froze. He definitely heard that.
She looked at him, face red with embarrassment, while he raised a brow.
"You haven't eaten yet?" he asked.
Willow let out a weak laugh. "I was waiting for you, remember?" And my roommates sabotaged the clock, she wanted to add but it didn't seem like the kind of detail he'd care about.
Navian nodded slowly. He knew she'd shown up late to the Ascendant building but he didn't comment on it.
"Okay then," he said, eyes half-lidded, "grab something for yourself while you get mine."
Willow gingerly made her way to the food counter where the chef served up Navian's order. She chose her own food. The fancy spicy pasta.
When she returned to the table, she watched as Navian sipped his coffee before starting his meal. She wanted to sit, but then she remembered one of those ridiculous Fodder rules.
"As a Fodder, you don't sit unless your master allows you to sit."
Navian didn't even glance at her, which clearly meant he didn't want her to sit.
"He has really turned me into his slave," she screamed internally.
Frowning deeply, she began eating her spicy pasta while standing. Sure, it was normal. After all, she was a Dreg, and now a Fodder to an Ascendant. She was expected to be treated like trash. But still, she was boiling inside literally and figuratively.
While she focused on her food, Navian looked at her briefly, cocking his head before returning to his meal. "Is she comfortable eating pasta?" he asked under his breath.
The pasta was getting way too hot, and her tongue was on fire. Desperate for help, she glanced at Navian and cleared her throat softly.
"You seem thirsty, master. Should I get you some water?" she asked, trying to sound helpful.
Navian absently replied, "No," and casually finished the rest of his coffee.
Willow's eyes twitched. "I should've just gotten the damn water," she muttered under her breath and continued eating, her face red with both heat and frustration.
"Oh my, you have a Fodder," came a familiar, deep, layered voice that made Willow's heart skip a beat. "She looks... well... unexpected."
She stiffly turned to look and there he was. Ezrik Veyne, approaching the table with a smug smile curling his lips as he stared at Navian, who, of course, looked completely unbothered by his presence.
Navian simply stared at him in silence, and it only made Ezrik's smile widen.
"But haven't you broken the rules a little too soon by letting her eat?" Ezrik said smoothly, trailing his long, golden-ringed fingers along the sleek surface of the table. "She's not allowed to eat."
At that moment, Navian's lips twitched, something mischievous glinting in his cold eyes. "Does she not look familiar to you?"
Shit! Willow almost screamed. But somehow, she kept her composure. She was hoping Ezrik wouldn't recognize her, and now Navian was being evil.
"Oh?" Ezrik blinked, confused, his emerald eyes meeting Willow's hazel ones. His gaze swept over her face, studying her features while she nervously avoided his eyes.
"You do look familiar. Where do I know you from?"
Willow's heart jumped into her throat, but she forced a polite smile, quickly dropping her plate and pressing a hand to her chest like she was greeting royalty.
"No, I don't look familiar. You don't know me. But I know you. I mean, who doesn't know you? But you definitely don't know me. I'm not worthy of your presence."
She bowed her head deeply at the end, and Ezrik chuckled, rubbing his chin with amusement.
"Good that you know your place. What grade are you again?" Ezrik asked, his voice dripping with interest.
Willow stood upright, meeting his eyes, and bit out, "Grade D."
"Really?" Ezrik scoffed in clear disappointment, then turned to Navian, who was casually poking at his food like none of this mattered.
"Is this a joke?" Ezrik asked in disbelief. "First time you choose a Fodder, and you pick a Dreg?"
Navian just shrugged, as if the entire conversation bored him.
"Well then..." Ezrik's eyes snapped back to Willow.
This time, he walked up to her, and before she could react, he reached out and grabbed her chin gently but firmly. His touch was light, but the tension in the air was suffocating.
Leaning in, his face mere inches from hers, he smiled deviously. "Be my Fodder instead."
Willow's eyes widened, her mouth going dry at the proximity and at the way those emerald eyes darkened because he wasn't really asking, he was demanding.
She knew she didn't have a choice, though. Because offending Navian could mean him telling Ezrik that he caught her snooping in his room. That would be game over.
His grip tightened, and she didn't even notice she was holding her breath until her mouth opened. "I already have a master," she breathed.
Ezrik's eyes darkened even more, this time with clear anger. He released her chin and stepped back, jaw clenched, making no attempt to hide his displeasure.
"You can have a better master," he said.
"And since when are you the better option?" Navian cut in, tilting his head with a raised brow, completely unfazed. "Besides, she's the only Fodder I have. Unlike you. I think you've got enough people worshiping you already."
Ezrik's smile returned, but this time it was tighter. He ran a hand through his silver hair, ruffling it slightly. "No. I want the one person who caught your eye after three years."
Navian rolled his eyes and sat up straighter, finishing the last bite of his food. "You need to grow up and stop wanting everything I have, Ezrik."
The tension between them was thick. Willow felt it in her bones. They clearly had history. Old, complicated history and it didn't seem like it was going away anytime soon.
"What's your choice?" Ezrik asked, pinning Willow with a hard, daring stare.
Her heart skipped again. His deep and cold voice was nothing like his angelic appearance. He looked like light and spoke like darkness.
"I'd like to stay with my master," she rasped, forcing a smile.
Ezrik stared at her for a moment, then shrugged but the displeasure didn't leave his eyes. "Fine. But know this. Whenever any of my Fodder sees you they have the right to punish you until you change your mind."
And just like that, he walked away, leaving Willow gripping the table, trying to process that very real threat.
Navian glanced at her. "Sit."
Willow glared. "Ohhh, so you could tell me to sit this whole time."
Navian gave a small smile. The kind that said of course and she shook her head in disbelief.
"I thought you wanted to seduce him," he said, raising a brow. "That was your best shot. Why didn't you take it?"
Willow leaned in, and Navian didn't even flinch but his eyes widened slightly at her boldness.
She grinned. "To be honest, I would have chosen you. But you were out of reach. Since I have you now, how dare I look at anyone else, my great lord," she added, voice thick with dramatic sarcasm.
Navian's lips twitched, and his fingers curled around the edge of the table. He looked at her like she was a puzzle he wasn't sure he wanted to solve.
Then he flicked her forehead with his fingers.
She winced, retreating like he'd used a rock. "Why did you—"
"Keep pretending until you can't, pretty thief," he cut her off, standing up and leaving the table.
Willow stared after him in disbelief. When he was gone, she let out a heavy breath, like she'd just come up for air, and slumped into the chair.
"Finally." She dug into her pasta, but her tongue was on fire again. She reached for Navian's coffee cup only to find it empty. She groaned in pure frustration.
"This planet really hates me. I'm trying to fix things, you know. It's in the works," she muttered, sighing in defeat. "It really is."