Roan entered Boss's room again. Boss was seated on the other side with Shila beside her.
Roan sat in his seat despite Shila's glare. Seriously, what was her problem? Roan couldn't think of any offense he had given the other woman.
As Roan sat down, Boss gestured at the food. "This is yours. Enjoy."
Roan hesitated, but not for long. He'd been running on an empty stomach since his finger was cut.
Slowly at first, he began wolfing down the chicken. He bit into a cucumber and mouthed some rice to blend the spicy flavor of the chicken.
Boss watched him patiently as he finished half the food on the table in no time.
His stomach already felt full. He had gotten used to eating very little, but who knew when he'd get another chance to eat food this good? So, he forced himself to eat more.
That didn't last long, though. No matter how determined he was, his stomach had limits. With regret, he washed his hands in a water bowl and looked at the remaining rice and salad. The chicken was gone.
He looked at the plate, then at Boss, silently asking what to do with it.
Shila stood up and took the plate, muttering something under her breath about gallows and rich bastards.
He could understand. The beggar folks back in the inner city often cursed the queen for not making wasting food treason.
He drank from the water skin, and as soon as he was finished, his usual calm face returned.
He looked back to check if Shila was gone and asked Boss, "What's her problem with me?"
Boss chuckled, apparently finding something funny. "Several. First of all, you just became my left hand."
"I did?" Roan asked, slightly surprised.
"The previous advisor was my left hand. Bastard from the Kuril group. She was too arrogant." Boss smiled cruelly. "She's probably moaning in some noble's basement now."
A shiver ran down Roan's spine. He took the warning for what it was.
Boss continued as if nothing had happened. "Second reason is she thinks you're a rapist. She was born from a long line of breeders."
Roan frowned. "Why would she think that?"
"You got your money from a corpse of some rich fellow, remember? And you said there was another corpse. A woman." Boss finished.
Ah, that made sense. There was no real way to prove his innocence either. The man wouldn't go around announcing his deeds, after all. It was a lost cause.
Though something else interested him. He looked at Boss and asked, "You believe me?"
"I do," Boss replied easily.
Roan felt flattered, but that didn't last long.
Boss added, "You don't have it in you. The guts needed to exploit someone that rich."
Roan didn't know how to feel about that. He changed the subject before he could start returning insults. "I'm surprised she actually has such hatred for this. I thought slave-borns were groomed to view their situation as something they deserve."
Boss let out a mirthless laugh. "She was lucky. An old friend of mine needed a slave to cook for him. His servant brought her by 'mistake.' She was nine, if I remember correctly. Said friend made sure she understood that showing up naked in his room at night wasn't her duty. She was later adopted and raised as his own child. Unfortunately, he was killed some years ago, so I took her in."
Roan was curious and shameless enough to ask, "Who killed him?"
"Assassin's guild." Something cold and very old passed through Boss's face for a second, but it vanished too quickly. Roan thought he might have imagined it.
Boss changed the subject. "What's your impression of them?"
Roan straightened and said, "Zecky has questionable loyalty—little hate here. Robber making problems with the thieves seems inevitable. Slovan seems like walking trouble. He also seems to resent me. And Dick should be killed right now."
Boss nodded approvingly. "Zecky indeed has zero hate compared to the others. She was raised in an environment where the body is just a tool to gain power. But she's useful. She knows which lines can be crossed and which can't."
Roan could understand that. People like her didn't let emotions cloud their judgment.
Boss continued, "While Robber's hate might seem like a problem, it's also a check against the thieves. While the rest of us let our guard down, he'll stay alert. Slovan was trying to become my left hand. His illusion of a chance was shattered by you."
Roan didn't miss the word illusion. Boss didn't trust that man at all.
Boss seemed amused by something as she added, "As for Dick, well—mad dogs are useful sometimes, as long as you know where to aim their madness."
Roan was unconvinced. Boss noticed. "Spit it out."
"He's too dangerous. Plus, the ridicule he gets will make him explode at some point," Roan said flatly.
"I have a use for him." The line drawn wasn't lost on Roan. He decided not to push further.
He was wondering how to voice his next question when Boss spoke again. "I'm surprised you don't consider Anthony a problem."
"Why would she be?" Roan asked, a little confused.
Boss replied reproachfully, "Don't think you're the only one who notices her nature. She has gossip girl written all over her face. Get her a drink and she'll start talking."
Fair. He hadn't considered someone else doing what he did. How Boss knew he talked with Anthony wasn't hard to guess.
Boss continued, "Besides, her main problem is self-control. The others are willing to set aside their hate if it means paying it back later. She doesn't have that kind of patience. The captain who died—the one whose death we're using as retaliation—was killed for a flesh merchant she attacked earlier."
That's a problem. It's one thing if someone doesn't see the long term. They can be made to understand. But it's another if they do see it and still can't control themselves.
Roan nodded to show he understood. He'd need more information. Well, it was just his first day.
After some thought, he said, "Anthony didn't say anything about the old man."
Boss considered that for a moment before shaking her head. "Don't fish around him."
That was even more concerning.
Noticing his unease, Boss elaborated. "He's too patient to be a problem. Don't worry. I've already given him a chance to get what he wants."
Roan let out a sigh. He'd have to trust Boss on this. Not that he had a choice.
The question he was going to ask earlier came to mind. He opened his mouth a few times, but kept closing it. Boss didn't rush him, seemingly knowing what he was about to ask.
Finally choosing his words, he quietly said, "I don't suppose you'll tell me why you're gathering people who hate the other gangs?"
Boss gave a thin smile and answered in just as quiet a voice, "Some things are better left unknown."
Cold sweat ran down his back at the sudden change in atmosphere. He had crossed a line. Just as he was scrambling for a way out of the situation, Boss added in a teasing voice, "You should rest for now, Ninefingers." She said their shared name while glancing at his left hand.
He really should rest. He was still bone-tired. The beatings earlier hadn't helped.
Boss spoke again as he stood. "You'll find three rooms after the common hall. Take the one in the middle. You'll share it with Dove."
Roan nodded and walked out—almost fled.
The room where he'd talked with the captains earlier was the common hall. He left the main chamber. A hallway extended ahead.
To his left were three more rooms. Now that he thought about it, the layout of the building was strange.
He pushed that thought to the back of his mind. He'd think about it later.
He entered the middle room and found it mostly empty. Just a closet in the corner and two beddings. One noticeably newly placed.
There were actual beds. Lady, he'd missed them so much. He quickly closed the door and jumped onto the bedding like a little child.
Pain shot through his knees in return.
He rubbed his knees and glanced around in embarrassment. Luckily, Dove wasn't inside.
After checking his knee and finding no injury, he lay down.
Staring at the ceiling, he considered his next moves—until sleep found him.