45. The Romanowskian company

Coretta

I smoothed down my black skirt for the nth time as I stood in front of the aqua coloured skyscraper.

The taxi that dropped me was long gone, now mixed with the many cars rushing down the busy street.

It was stunning that this skyscraper was surrounded by its own lawn, where I stood at one corner, gaping at its immenseness.

"Ugh, I should've worn stockings," I muttered as the skirt rode up till my knees again. I pushed it down.

I don't want anyone to see my knees. Period.

The lawn had meticulously trimmed trees and spears stuck up at every corner. There were even swords and shields hung over these spears. I blinked back.

Odd decor.

My phone buzzed, and I opened my tote bag to fish it out. The caller ID stated Lola Rose.

Who is that?

I crinkled my brows in confusion. I didn't remember saving anyone by that name. Nonetheless, I answered it.

"Hey Cors! Damn, where have you been, girl? Do you know how it went for me?" she whistled.

I brought the phone back from my ear to look at it. That sounded like Cheryl.

"Um, no? Surprise me," I replied.

"I got a job! That too in one go!" she squealed, "You know how much I was itching to get one after our internship? Am a blessed baby now," she sang.

The people around, probably the employees of the company, started giving me bizarre looks. They had noticed me standing there like a loon for the past fifteen minutes.

I passed them a smile and started walking, making them give an uneasy one in return.

"So which company?" I asked her back.

"It's one of the most famous! And since I'm the CEO's P.A, I've got a free world tour package cause he has business deals around the world and has to travel constantly!

"The one and only The Great Alexandrian Enterprises!" she revealed the name.

Cheryl had amazing confidence for interviews and slayed it every time. While me? I'd only do one prayer.

Don't make me a chicken that the interviewer could roast.

"What about you? Which company has selected you?" she asked.

"Uh... the company's name..." It was weird that I'd come here for my interview and didn't know the name.

As I kept walking, I found a signboard near the entrance.

"It's... Rom- um wait, it's huge,

"Romanowskian Regal Glory?" I spelt the golden letters.

"Geez, you sound like a lost cause," she exclaimed, "Anyway, lemme tell you. They handle the shipping work for The Great Alexandrian Enterprises. Comes under their trusted partners so you have to grab this opportunity. You understand?"

"Yeah," I muttered as the automatic double doors opened to let me in.

"Go rock it Cors! Love you loads. 'kay bye!" And she hung up.

A gust of cool air hit my face, calming my senses with the fragrance of indoor plants. Sound of rushing water made me look to my left.

Was that a freaking waterfall in this reception hall? Wow.

Being here felt surreal. I had worked so hard to be here that it felt like a dream. I pinched myself.

It didn't hurt.

Men in business suits walked with their chest held high as if they owned the path they walked on. Women were in pantsuits while some wore business jackets and skirts like me.

Everyone going calmly about their work, carrying files and tablets.

My black heels clicked on the marble floor as I walked straight to the reception desk. I made sure to switch my phone to silent.

Cream coloured plush couches lay on either side before the rosewood reception desk. Few people sat on them. Some reading magazines, others checking their watches.

The receptionist looked like a friendly girl. Wearing an olive green coat with a white shirt underneath, her hairs were french braided, and she had a cheerful look on her face. She was busy typing away on the computer in front of her.

"Ah, good morning, Miss..." I read her name from the badge pinned on her collar, "Miss. Thalia. I'm Coretta Hayes," she looked at me and passed a bright smile.

"Good morning, Ms. Hayes. How can I help you?" she beamed.

I took out the invitation letter from my purse, "I received the approval for today's interview. If you could guide me the way," I smiled. She nodded and took the card to feed the information on her computer.

Her eyes widened ever so slightly, but she resumed her smile, "Cicero," she called her fellow receptionist, "Could you check Ms. Hayes' interviewer? I guess I'm having some trouble."

The boy Cicero typed on, only for his expressions to change like the girl. He glanced back at her screen to match with his.

"Uh, you are doing it right, Thalia. It's him only," he murmured to her.

Both did a nervous eye talk, after which they faced me with an uneasy smile.

"Uhm, so... are you sure you want this job?" The girl started with uncertainty.

"Uh, yeah?" I tried to smile. If they are the trusted partner of The Great Alexandrian Enterprises, they'd surely pay well.

Not to mention, everything looked systematic and sophisticated.

"Well..." The boy looked around, before lowering his voice, "It's an... insider thing, and we thought we should tell you... for your sake."

I nodded for him to continue, "Before you, the person in this post was fired... very badly," he admitted.

"And not fired," Thalia added, "We mean fired fired," She pointed two of her fingers to make a gun. I gulped.

"But you need not worry!" Cicero gave a big smile, "That man was involved in a scandal with one of His Honour's secretary, that's why haha," he laughed it off. Thalia nodded along.

Did he just say...

"His Honour was impressed by your qualifications, Ms. Hayes," Thalia complimented, "And because of the post you have applied for, he will be the one to take your interview. So be a little careful," she advised.

Shit.

I hoped the CEO wasn't some psyched up guy who made his employers work like slaves. They are literally calling him, His Honour!

"I have fixed your appointment with him," She looked at her screen, "It's quarter to ten right now. You'll have your interview in fifteen minutes," she informed.

"Please board the lift," she pointed to her left, "To the thirty-fifth floor. The hallway straight up is his office. Best of luck!" she cheered.

It was a glass case lift and once in, I could see the view of the city as I went up.

High-rise buildings, parked with cars and streets cut at equal intersections, made it look like a megacity. There was no shortage of trees in the surroundings and in the distance was a huge double gate as if it was enclosing the city within it.

What the hell is the Ishtar's gate doing here?!

The lift went on and on. I took the time to adjust my hair, making sure the sleek vixen I'd done for the interview was still straight.

It stopped on the twenty-ninth floor and in came a couple, laughing to themselves. Upon noticing me, they reduced it to giggles and stood farthest.

"Not here, Jakov!" The woman giggled, and the man held her arms to bring his face to her level. His tie hanging loosely around his neck.

My single ass self turned around to ogle at the city outside.

"Why not, when we are getting married soon, my dear Helaine," The business suit-clad man whispered, placing his hands on the glass behind her.

I cried inwardly. Why am I able to hear him whisper!

Tuning out their romantic convo, I focussed on what was to come. It was weird how I hadn't researched about this company. I didn't even know who and how the CEO was. Just great.

As the lift dinged to a stop, the couple whisked into the left corridor, still laughing while I chose the hallway leading straight, as told by Thalia.

My heart started its customary thud when I spotted a gold crystal encrusted door which screamed regal glory. This must be the CEO's office.

But as I came closer to the royal door, there was a long wooden desk to my left where eight neatly dressed women sat. Their hairs tied into a neat bun. Everyone looking drop-dead gorgeous.

Some were busy attending telephone calls, others doing paperwork or going through their computers.

In front of the wooden desk was a metal frame with 'Personal Assistants' written on it. I gasped.

Who in the world has eight P.As?!

I continued to walk ahead but felt suffocated as some of them glared at me. Should I stop and introduce myself to everyone?

Peering hesitantly from where I felt the strongest glare, I found an elegant woman with sharp grey eyes, boring holes into my skull. Her shiny black hair neatly tied up.

The nameplate placed in front of her stated 'Caspara'.

"Phoebe and Zurin, may I enlighten that you both are chatting for the past fifteen minutes," A woman, who looked saner than the rest asked, her voice scolding but soft.

Her nameplate stated 'Dimitra - Head Secretary'. When the two women quietened, I approached the lady.

"Sure," she smiled, "If you could show me the approval card stamped by Thalia," I passed it to her, and after having a look, she came out the desk to lead me to the royal door.

"You can enter," she motioned to the door, smiling.

"Yeah, thanks," I sucked in a breath and opened the door. Thankfully, my skirt was behaving itself.

The first thing I saw was the long rectangular window which gave the entire view of the city. The wall above this window was adorned with an assortment of swords.

The vast window continued to spread across the two adjacent walls, making this gold-coloured office look bigger than it already was.

"Sure, but the annexations of Persian Enterprises wouldn't take long when their CEO is missing for a while." A low voice came from the roundabout chair facing the window, which I'd thought to be empty.

The chair rotated, giving me a side view of his face.

OhmyGod

Oh, my God.

Have I seen him somewhere? I think I saw him in a historical flick. Damnit, was he an actor?

It was then when he faced me that my confusion began to fix.

They were all people from my daily life. Intricately fixed in my imagination.

The eight personal assistants.

The receptionists.

The couple in the lift.

And now the King of Romanos,

As the CEO of Romanowskian Regal Glory?!

Was it a dream? But it all seems so so real. I could even smell the masculine cologne in this giant office.

He continued to talk on the phone, and I couldn't take my eyes off him. I had forgotten the number of times I had imagined him in a tux and now, here he was,

In a sleek black tuxedo.

His hairs were gelled back, face clean with the usual stubble and oh my dear poor heart; underneath the suit, the first two buttons of his shirt were open.

Damn. His. Appearance.

Formal yet so informal.

"Pardon the wait," he kept the phone back and finally his light brown eyes met mine, "Have a seat, Mila," he smiled.

My heart jumped. Why was he calling me the Greek version of darling? Does he know me? But I came here for the first time.

"Morning, Mr. Romanowski," I walked up to his desk and held out my hand for a firm handshake. The intoxicating smell of his expensive cologne messing with my sanity.

He didn't break eye contact as he shook my hand, then motioned to sit on the chair beside me.

"So..." he opened a drawer to fetch out an envelope, containing my resume to the company.

"Ms. Coretta Hayes," I took in a sharp breath as his deep voice uttered my name for the first time. My real name. And it sounded so... delicious coming from his mouth that I couldn't breathe.

"Not even started working, and I spot your first mistake?" He looked up from the paper, giving me a questioning look. I opened my mouth to ask when he moved the sheet in front of me.

"Any reasons to mention yourself as Althea Rosemary in the resume?" He didn't look angry. It merely amused him.

Goodness.

How did he know my real name then?

Neither excuses nor long-winded explanations worked in a professional sphere. I had to be reasonable and precise.

"Apologies, my Lor-" What is happening with me?! I closed my mouth to start again with a polite smile, "My resume for the publishing company must've switched with this one."

"Pen name?" he asked, taking back the sheet to go through it again. I replied with a yes.

A golden Rolex watch sat on his wrist, and I peered at his face again. Being a warrior, he used to have a messier appearance, but now, he was all polished. Demeanour calm and surprisingly warm.

"Let's start with your qualifications," he looked at me and I immediately changed my gaze to a straight one. "Interestingly, you've earned your graduate degree at eighteen," he kept the paper down,

"I would like to know the working of Raymond school of World History."

I explained how there was a special selection paper, making only exceptional students to be allowed in.

"Because they focus on the research aspect, they don't prefer student's time to be consumed in college. So they grant us the degree in last year, from where we can take up further research or internships." I clarified.

He watched me keenly before speaking, "Basically they focus on skill enhancement rather than knowledge," he critiqued, swivelling slightly on the roundabout chair.

Oh God, why is he looking so good askjhgsjlfdks!

"That's one misconception of the institute," I shook my head, smiling, "Knowledge is at par with the skills." At that, he asked some quick questions, which I answered in a heartbeat.

He nodded in approval, "Your reasons to apply for a data analyst," His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, "Why are you so keen to write about my kingdom?"

My head was jumbled now, with his voice that had turned cold. The receptionist's words coming back to me.

"Sir," I started, trying not to stutter, "My focus would be to gather information from various sources, and interpret the trends to help improve the business of Romanowskian Regal Glory. Alongside, I'll only write the information that you see fit."

He cocked his head to the side, studying me, "I hope the nature of your work would be analytical, and not spying around," he clasped his fingers to place them in front.

Spying, huh?

"Of course sir, here are my legal verifications," I pulled out a yellow envelope from my purse to hand it over to him.

Just when he looked down the sheet, I noticed a dusty whirlwind forming in the city outside. The winds were so strong suddenly that the windows flew open, letting sand to come rushing in the office.

But Julian's gaze was fixed on my verification paper. I looked frantically as papers flew around, flower vases and books from the shelf tumbled down. A scream left me when the window's glass cracked, shattering it into million pieces.

"Sir! Y- Your face!" I cried out when a splinter of glass struck his face, letting a stream of blood to trickle down his temple. It became difficult to look when everything became hazy due to the sandstorm.

"Althea..." Julian choked, looking up from the paper. The blood was now dripping onto his sand-filled desk, but his teary eyes were looking at me.

"Why don't you want to tell me... that you came from the future?" he asked, broken. The tears now streaming down his face.

I clasped my mouth, shaking my head to a no. A sob rose up my throat at his hopelessness.

I could never tell him my truth. Even if it was tearing my heart into pieces.

Another gust of sand blew in and this time, it entered my eyes, making everything around me go black.

When I was able to open my eyes, neither the office nor Julian was there anymore. The surroundings felt cold, and I looked down to see I was back in the linen clothing.

But this cloth was dirty and torn from various places.

Was the dream over and I was back to reality? I tried thinking where was I the last time. Only to remember that we'd safely reached Romanos. What was this place then?

My cheeks felt sore. I tried touching them but felt my hands restrained behind my back. When I attempted to free myself, an unknown force started weighing on my shoulders to the point I was crying out.

"S- Stop, please! Who is there!" Tears pricked my eyes with the increasing pressure on my shoulders, and then someone forced me down to my knees.

My knees scraped at the uneven ground. Heavy hands still on my shoulders to keep me from moving.

"Isn't she a lovely one, father?" The voice chuckled, gripping my hair to face me ahead. Pain shot through my scalp when his hand didn't budge.

A single fire torch burned at one corner, making the silhouette of the man visible, who sat in front of me. He wore a pale yellow robe, with only his jaw visible. Above which the darkness hid his face.

He had a scar running down his chin until his neck. This wasn't Julian. Judging by their voices, neither of them was Julian.

Where was I? The sobs resurfaced when the man reached out to grip my sore face, moving his thumb disgustingly on my cheek.

"What intrigues me is her... eyes," he spoke slowly, grazing his finger over my eyelids.

"Won't they make beautiful blue gems, son?" he smirked.

I pulled at my restraints harder when his words sunk in my ears. I wouldn't have cared if they killed me, but the thing was,

I couldn't die if he takes my eyes. I would still be alive and in a pain, I could never imagine.

"Leave me! Julian will- he will catch you all!" I screamed, only for the man behind me to tie my mouth.

"Blue-eyed woman, why would he care when he's busy with his marriage?" The scarred man chuckled, moving a hand through my tied mouth. I continued to struggle, shaking my head as the tears wetted my linen, but his smile just grew.

"Bring it forth," he ordered, ignorant of my cries. What he brought near my face halted my struggle.

"Such a lovely pay I would get by trading these beautiful eyes to the eye-sellers," he cackled, "Hold her tight, son. We don't want to damage her eyeballs."

I was weakened to the point that my muscles didn't move. I couldn't do anything as the tip of the knife moved into the socket of my eye.

"Aah, my eye!" I heard Thalia cry when I woke up with a jolt, breathing harshly. The linen dress stuck to me with the amount I had sweated out.

I saw her sitting beside my bed on the floor. Rubbing her eyes with her cloth.

That was a dream, I gasped out my dry mouth. Still, it didn't relieve me. It felt so real.

Shakily, I touched my face, feeling around the socket where the knife was plunged in to gouge out my eye. I closed my eyes, to feel the rippling pain of the knife going in again.

I hate it when I remember every detail of the dream. I hated elaborate dreams.

"Are you awake... now?" Thalia's small voice came as she stood up, continuing to soothe her eye.

"What... happened?" I was shaken by the ordeal I went through. I couldn't find my voice.

"You slept too long, so I... came to wake you," she mumbled, "When I shook you, your hand hit my eye."

I heaved, "Sorry and... thank you..." Climbing out the bed, I faced the clear sky outside the window. My imagination is seriously... horrible.

I was enjoying the office dream, and it had to end like this. Maybe my subconscious had mixed my want to see Julian in a tux with the eye-seller thing that oldie told me in the warrior camps.

Ugh. That must be some nasty bedtime stories she recited to her grandkids. I shouldn't delve too much on those impossible things. I steadied myself.

But I couldn't get the meaning of one thing.

Why did my dreams of Julian always end up with him crying? When in reality, I had never seen him cry?

After readying myself and eating something, I went out with Thalia. We had gone to Julian's room to fetch my book, but the guard's told he was busy with his army and wasn't available.

We strolled down the floors, watching everyone going about their work. I spotted the concubines and giggled to myself.

I had seen them in modern-day business wear and they all had looked striking. The dream was like a dream come true, to see all these ancient people decked in modern settings.

This time, Thalia took me around the backside of the palace. The Sun was brighter here in the approaching winters, as we chatted along.

"Noo, it's not like that..." she trailed. Her cheeks turning red.

"Hehe, I know you like Cicero," I elbowed her, "He was also looking- Aaaah!" I shrieked out when I heard the roar of a lion just behind me.

Turning around, I spotted two of them tied to a wall. This wall belonged to a separated quarter of the palace, mainly for warriors.

The lions were enclosed in a fenced area, between the gap of the first and second section of the palace.

"They weren't here before, were they?" I caught my breath as they continued to roar savagely.

"That's one of the punishments." she started quietly, "Look up."

I glanced above to see the roof of the palace. It was an open roof, one which wasn't bounded by a wall.

"They push the culprits from that height, and into the lion's area," she explained.

God.

That's... gruesome.

It must be the reason Julian didn't want me to write about corporal punishments.

General public cannot handle the severity of this knowledge, he had told.

"Don't be so scared," she laughed, "They punish only those people this way, who commit grave crimes."

Does it mean someone was to be punished today?

In the distance, the rattling of chains filled the quietened area. A man was shackled with iron chains as guards took him somewhere.

Despite Thalia's protest, I rushed near the spot. My heart beating wildly because he seemed someone like Dunkin?

I slumped in relief when I remembered Dunkin was bald, and this man had hairs. Looking closer, I figured him out to be the blue gem seller in the market. The one Julian had warned.

Erasten Giles.

Were his gems fake? I thought, astonished.

"Althea, wait, please!" Thalia pleaded, "That's the restricted part of the palace," She threw her hand at the path that was leading to the underground where Erasten was currently taken.

"Even guards aren't allowed in the cellar without His Honour's permission!" she wailed.

"Calm down. Breathe. I'm not going in," I snickered, tapping her head. When would she quit being this fearful?

"Do you know why he's here?" I asked.

She shook her head, "I don't know. Maybe he did a grave crime, that's why the lions are tied?" She turned around to look at the hungry lions,

"But it could also be, that His Honour wants to know something from him," she wondered aloud.

"You know, sometimes he threatens the culprits with the punishment's procedure, when they don't speak the truth."

Julian was one hell of a king.

I walked up to a guard who was standing outside the path to the underground cellar.

"Um, greetings," I bowed to grab his attention. Instead, he was startled by my presence. Almost a little afraid.

"Greetings, gracious lady," he bowed in return, gripping onto the spear he held.

"Is that man, Erasten Giles?" I asked. When he looked with scepticism at how I knew, I said, "I was in the market when he was warned by His Honour."

"Ah, y- yes, it is him," he informed, eyes darting in nervousness. What did I do to make this huge man this scared?

"Um, so, were his gems, fake?" I asked.

Now he was troubled, "Uh, I don't think I'm allowed to-"

"I write nothing without His Honour's permission," I laughed softly, "You can also inform him that you told me," I gave him a small smile.

He looked around hesitantly before starting, "They found three types of gems from his collection. The real, fake and some odd ones," he told.

"How were the stones tested?" I prompted.

"The Lapis Lazuli was burnt. If it loses little to no shade of its blue colour, it's actual. While some were real, some turned white, and the others turned to ashes," he explained.

That was strange, "How could a hard stone gem turn into ash?" I asked back, curious.

"That's what His Honour wants to find out," he said but silenced when one of his fellow guards arrived. Thalia pulled me to walk back to the palace.

"Mate, you have a death wish?" I heard the faint voice of the other guard.

"Have you forgotten His Honour's warning? What happens if one of us is found talking to her?"

"But... but she talked firs-"

"Man... I'd never risk my tongue like you..." Their voices faded.

Oh my, did I put him in danger? I bit my lip.

Thalia took me back to our floor, complaining like a grandma, how I was always hopping on to restricted areas.

We were chatting, and giggling when a woman turned in to the same corridor. Her kohl-rimmed eyes moving like a predator until they landed on my laughing self.

Hallelujah.

Mistress Armonia.

We froze at our spots, eyes fixated on the ground. In the split second I had seen, she wasn't pleased at all by my behaviour. Or maybe by my presence itself.

Ancient older women expected the younger ones to behave in a poised, passive manner. One who is busy with her womanly duties, not wandering and laughing her head out.

Like me.

Back home, I had read ancient journals, how women who didn't fit in with the societal rules were punished, even thrown out of their homes or killed.

This was a vulnerable time for women, and it wasn't helping that I was slipping out of my ancient woman character.

As she came closer, I bowed further to greet, but she didn't pay heed.

"Thalia," she called out, "I have some work for you," And with that, she walked away without sparing a glance my way.

My eyes welled up on their own, but I rubbed them away. She wouldn't say anything ever since Julian told her about my work, but it was hurting me. Every time I saw her cold expression.

When I'd come to know she was his mom, I had pledged to be on her good side. But it was clear I was failing.

I will have to impress her.

Gulping down the emotional ball, I walked down the floors, thinking about what should I do to make her happy. When nothing came across, my mind drifted back to the dream.

It seemed so actual that I wondered if the eye sellers were really out there. To be on the safer side, I should order contacts. Then again, people won't take the sudden change in my eye colour, nicely.

It wouldn't be a surprise if they start considering me a witch or something.

When two separate thoughts occurred to me, I stopped in my tracks.

The guard had said some stones turned to ashes. That would mean those blue gems weren't stones.

I recalled what the old woman in the warrior camps told, as she'd stared into my eyes.

Beware of the eye sellers.

They kidnap people, mostly women who have exotic eyes. After gouging out, they keep it in a watery thing which hardens the eyeball, turning them into gems.

Like your eye. They would make beautiful blue gems, you know.

Were the... were the stones that turned to ashes were... eyeballs?