“What the hell are you talking about?” Catalin shot back. “Why would they ask me to do something like that?”
“Are you really this clueless?” Chris almost sounded frantic now. “Celeste Kasshen was the one who killed Alexander Tremont after he turned, okay?” Once the words were out of his mouth, the terrified energy seemed to leave his system, and his shoulders slumped. “You’re supposed to be the one responsible for keeping me in line, right?”
“What?” Catalin blinked, thoroughly confused. “Who told you that?”
“... a few people,” Chris said, and left it at that.
Using me to threaten an innocent kid? Catalin thought incredulously, his stomach turning. He didn’t feel particularly fond towards any of the people he’d met so far, but he wouldn’t have imagined any of them going that far.
“So... that’s why you were intimidated by me?” he asked.
“Intimidated?” Chris fidgeted a little. “N-Not really... I can handle myself against an untrained guy like you, y’know. But...” He seemed to shrink a little. “Guardians are supposed to be one unit. I don’t want to fight with you.”
“Who said anything about fighting?” Catalin gestured to himself. “Do I look like Celeste to you?”
“... is that a trick question?”
Damn. Walked right into that one. “... listen,” Catalin said slowly. “You can’t help what those people want to think, but you realize that you’re a different person than this Tremont guy, right?” When Chris didn’t answer, he added, “You do, don’t you?”
“I am his successor,” Chris mumbled.
“Oh, come on!” Catalin slapped his forehead. “If you can’t even say you’re your own person with any conviction, no one else is going to think so, either! You know yourself better than they do.”
“Why are you getting so worked up over it, anyway?” There was no more hostility, just curiosity.
“I can’t stand this, is all,” Catalin said firmly. “All this talk, like we’re exact copies of some people who handed us some pendants when we were kids... it’s ridiculous. Not even just that... they enslaved me just because I was Celeste’s cousin, and they put her subordinates in a place like this just because they served under her. Are we supposed to be responsible for everyone we’ve ever met? They can’t decide whether they can trust you or not because of someone else’s mistake.”
“So you’re saying you do trust me?” Chris asked, skeptical.
“Well, I don’t know you, do I?” Catalin paused. “Neither of us is going anywhere soon, right? So I’ll decide for myself whether I can trust you or not. That’s how normal people do it.”
Chris was looking quite perplexed now, as if the idea of someone deciding to trust him was completely implausible. “What’s in it for you?”
“Nothing!” When Chris arched an eyebrow, Catalin added, “Well... I don’t really know anything, about any of this.” His vague gesture took in both the small, unsanitary-looking room, and the door that led into the basement. “So I might need things explained, sometimes.”
“Well...” Chris was starting to crumble. “That’s not too complicated.”
“And in return, I don’t want to hear you comparing yourself to some dead man,” Catalin snorted. “It’s really annoying. You’re not a traitor, right?”
“... n...no.” As Chris shook his head, his stunned expression made Catalin wonder if anyone had bothered to tell him that. “No, I’m not.”
“Good.” Catalin nodded firmly. “Oh, and don’t call me Lord Kasshen. I don’t consider myself a nobleman.”
“The others...” Chris fiddled with a loose thread on his shirt. “They call you ‘Cat?’”
“Yeah,” Catalin said, “but I don’t want-”
“I like it,” Chris declared.
“Hey, come on, Turner-”
“And call me Chris, okay?” Chris sounded a little hesitant to ask. “It’s weird to refer to someone by their last name. And I don’t really like ‘Christopher.’”
“That’s fine,” Catalin said with a sigh, “but I don’t like that nickname, either.”
“Well, ‘Catalin’ is a really nice name,” Chris mused. “Really dignified. But it’s all wrong for a strange guy like you.”
“... ‘strange guy,’” Catalin repeated flatly. “Isn’t that my line?”
For someone constantly on the defensive, Chris’ smile was unguarded. “I guess that’s something else we have in common?”
As Chris turned to his bags, wondering out loud where he was supposed to put his things, Catalin sank onto the mattress, testing if it could actually hold his weight at all. As he sprawled across it, he looked up, scrutinizing his new ally. Something we have in common, huh?
