Captive (3)

Leon glanced at her, amused as he filled his bottle. “Dinner is on the dining table,” he said casually, as if it hadn’t been her pride keeping her from eating all evening.

Sia narrowed her eyes, harrumphing before responding proudly, “I’m fine with my own food.”

Leon’s lips twitched in amusement but he said nothing and left her to her cold and buttered bread.

As Sia said this, Leon had a look on his face that she knew all too well. But she brushed it off, reminding herself that it wasn’t material things that defined wealth, it was the hard work behind them. Wasn’t that what John Locke said? Mixing labor with the goods of nature makes it your private property. It was her effort that turned those slices of bread into a meal, not his.

Proud of herself, she was heading back to her room when she noticed Leon lounging on the couch while flipping through the pages of a book. Grinning, she couldn’t resist throwing a jab at him.

She said with a tone full of arrogance that can even put God to a