Author's Note: I hate cliff hangers too. I gotchu guys.
Chapter 10: Betrayal
It felt like the air had been punched from her lungs when Petra braced a glance in the direction of the voice.
In front of them stood a tall man dressed in maroon garb at the entrance portal into the train. He was recognizably a crafty person, this one, seeing as how he had managed to incorporate a scarf of fur into his collar, proudly showing it off. Just as their eyes connected, he smirked, hostility dripping in every ounce of his expression.
She took a cautious step back.
"Vlak sent his lap dog, after all?" Levi practically spat.
"No offense to you or your work, Ackerman, but I think it a necessary measure to see that", the man named Artem swam his finger around in the direction of Petra, like she was some display piece at an auction, "what he has claimed is seen through to be in his hands."
There was that name again. Ackerman.
Despite the mention of the one Russian commander - Vlak, and the fear she had harbored until now of ever ending up in his hands, a word stood out to Petra and the outstanding importance of it's matter speared her on to proclaim in Levi's defense, angrily, "He's not an Ackerman! Those people are brutal murderers and crooks. Stop calling him that."
The man named Artem raised a harsh brow at her fierce outburst, dramatically as if she had slapped him in the face. Within a second, his visage changed and his lips curved up into a smirk. A chuckle thundered out from him. "He!" He pointed at Levi. "ISN'T an Ackerman?!" The man cackled, his hand holding onto the railing for support. "Has he not even told you who he is?! What a man."
Petra stayed still, watching this male laugh absurdly to her face.
Artem took pleasure in her confused expression, running one finger through a long blonde lock that had escaped from his bun. "Shall I tell her!? How you're the worst hands she could be in right now? The most well known underworld thug in this business. The Ackerman bas****, you are."
She whipped her head around to look at Levi. His eyes shadowed an unhidden mirth, looking like they could cut through the man.
She hadn't noticed until now that she was shivering.
"Levi...Ackerman?" That surely didn't sound right.
Levi's gaze shifted to her; The way her shoulders lay stiff from tension, eyes wide, cheeks tinted pink from the biting cold.
Artem's voice came in threatening waves, "The entire aristocratic WORLD knows the Ackermans are the ones who sent the Ral duchess to the hospital and into a coma!"
Her gaze didn't shift away from Levi's, eyes locked on his. Where his lay staring at her, calculating, waiting, hers lay in fear, also in wait for him to say something. Denial? Confirmation? Why wasn't he saying anything?
It was driving her mad.
"Well, no matter. Vlak will be waiting, darling. This man has done his part to deliver you safely. Let us get going."
His part.
"Petra." Levi began at that.
She gasped at her name being uttered from his mouth now. This man. Who was he really? Her eyes searched his face, not finding the staunch denial she was yearning to find.
"I had no part in what happened to your mother. Believe me when I say that," He stated firmly, taking a step towards her.
'How did she go into a coma?'
'How long ago was that?'
He had known it all along. Who he was. Who she was. How they were connected. "You're...an Ackerman." Is all she heard herself say in reply. The icy wind blew her hair around her face. She felt numb.
"You will find your compensation delivered within a week." Artem spat out in a snicker towards Levi before cooing, "Alright, come along now, sweets."
Petra barely registered a hand at her arm pull her up into the train. She didn't resist one bit.
Numb.
The train doors closed and she felt herself get seated beside the window.
So numb.
Against her better judgement, in a last futile attempt, she peered out the window towards the renegade. He wasn't looking in her direction, facing away. It...must be true then. Even after all that he promised just now. I'm so naive.
She sat there, eyes empty, for the first time her mind not trying to figure out a plan of action or avenues of opportunities like it usually was. For once, she lay still like a statue even when Artem sat beside her, shooting her a knowing smirk...Even when the first dip of sun peaked out from behind the horizon, signaling dawn.
She lay still.
And her eyes began to close.
/
This wasn't her bed.
That was the first thought that coursed through as her eyes opened up to an extravagant canopy overhead. She began to panic.
This wasn't her room.
She was captured by a Russian envoy.
Her mother was still in a coma. And it was all because of the Ackermans.
Levi was an Ackerman. He had lied to her this entire time.
Petra felt bile rise up.
"I need to take it a moment/at/a/time." She preached to herself, holding her head. Her fingers caught some strands of her hair and she stared at them in horrific surprise. Someone had washed her hair.
She kicked the bed sheets away. She was in a cotton night gown. Her eyes searched the room, trying to find clues as to who was responsible for her current state but all she found was a shiny dress hung beside a massive vanity.
The bedroom doors flew open in the time Petra got up to inspect her surroundings better.
A tall woman in a long lavender coat walked in.
"Oh, you're awake! Master Dristien just got back from his Rostock mission. You're expression tells me you have no idea how long you've been out. Only 12 hour hours, love." The lady smiled cutely at her, her dimples deeper than the mystery of her identity. "Oh, I'm Valeria. A bath lady here at the manor."
The manor? "Where...are we? Are you the one who washed my hair and changed me into these clothes?" What sorcery was it that someone could get their hair washed without waking up?
"We are at the border of East Rostock, love. And yes, that was me. Artem asked me to check on you to make sure you're ready for the dinner with Master Dristien tonight. My luck I didn't have to shake you awake." A giggle followed.
The joke escaped Petra.
"Dinner. With." Vlak, she mouthed his name, dumbfounded. Her luck. First get abducted by a man she thought was a bounty seeking criminal then begin to think he is a pretty alright human and then find out he's actually a murderer and liar who delivered her to the one man who was after sabotaging her family to use her as bait and oh, what great heavens had in store for her at the end of it all: a grand dinner with said sabotaging mastermind himself.
Petra wanted to gag.
"The dinner isn't an option," Valeria stated almost coldly in response to her unspoken question, her attitude completely changing in a split second. She strutted over to where the dress hung next to the vanity. "Wear this and be downstairs in an hour. Artem will meet you there. Oh and this entire place is surrounded so if you try anything funny-"
"I'll meet him in an hour."
Valeria cocked her head in the girl's direction, taken aback by the abruptness displayed by the younger girl. "Children of nobles..." She muttered before walking out.
What a confusing and unpleasant person, Petra thought, a dull headache beginning to form in her head.
What Petra didn't know was that the next hour she would spend trying to understand who in the heavens even wore dresses like the one that hung. The fit was correct but the odd design tacts such as the bell sleeves and lace edges were all over the place. A bewildering piece of disastrous art.
She took a shaky breath, looking in the mirror. The baby blue shimmer of the dress definitely screams 'prisoner of a Russian atache commander'. She made a face.
Petra. Take it by the moment. On the bright side, I haven't been served as live roast on a platter to the Russian embassy...yet.
/
Artem had arrived promptly, looking rather impatient as Petra descended the stairs.
"Good on you to leave your hair down, sweets. You look rather lovely like that." One side of his mouth lifted in appreciation and she very much felt the urge to kick him. It had been a good while since she came across such an uncouth soul. Seeing as how she was used to being around more dignified characters over the past week like Shane, Hange, especially Levi-
No. Not him.
Artem held out his hand for her and she eyed it.
"Oh, well whatever you're comfortable with." Artem let out a breath of laughter in disbelief, turning around sharply. "Just know Vlak is not the type you should deny anything to."
"Thank you for your concern but I'll be fine." Petra kept her eyes on the ground as she followed after him, randomly noting how she felt increasingly bold and wasn't always tripping over her words like she used to with Levi.
Stop thinking about him!
Artem cleared his throat and Petra looked up, returning back to her reality, the present. They had stopped in front of a pair of double doors.
"He's inside. Do me a favor...
and try to keep your mind out of your mouth, sweets."