Rebirth Of The Rejected Luna Chapter 172: Three Days

**3rd Person POV**

I set the dagger on the table, watching as Garrik picked it up and examined it closely. He ran his fingers along the edge, his eyes shining with interest. The dagger seemed to sparkle in his hands, catching the dim light of the room.

Garrik tapped his fingers against the wooden table, eyeing me thoughtfully. He seemed to be weighing his options, deciding whether I was worth the trouble. He touched the pouch of coins I'd offered him initially again and then furrowed his brows, trying to feel the coins. He didn't bother reopening the pouch though, he just leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. His eyes never left mine, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.

Garrik's voice was low and smooth as he spoke. "You're new here."

I kept my face impassive, careful not to reveal anything. "What makes you say that?" I asked, my tone neutral.

Garrik's smile was a thin, knowing line. His eyes glinted with amusement. "I know every poor soul desperate enough to buy a new name in this town," he said. "And you're not one of them."

I remained silent, my expression carefully blank. I didn't want to give him any reason to think he had the upper hand. But Garrik's words had struck a nerve, and I could feel a spark of unease flickering to life within me.

Garrik tilted his head, studying me. "So tell me, little bird," he said, his voice light but sharp. "Where exactly are you from? And how did you slip into Shadowclaw without papers in the first place?"

I hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. "I don't see how that's any of your business," I said finally.

Garrik's eyes narrowed. "It is when you're asking me to forge documents for you. The last thing I need is to hand over papers to someone who's already got a noose around their neck."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. "I am paying for your service, not for your goddamn interrogation. Are you going to do your job, or should I walk straight up to the palace and let them know I got in without papers and you helped me or want to help me forge papers? I’m sure they’d love to know how weak their border is and how their citizens are betraying them.

His jaw tightened, and for a second, I thought he might actually throw me out. But then, he exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head.

"You’re a pain in the ass." He said.

"And you’re wasting my time."

He muttered a curse under his breath, but he reached for the paper and quill.

"Name?" he asked, still looking annoyed.

I smirked. "Talia Rook."

He started writing, though I could feel his eyes flicking up every few seconds like he still hadn’t decided whether helping me was worth the risk.

"Age? Birthplace?"

"I don't know. Make it convincing. How old do I look."

"Twenty?"

"Add four years to that," I said to him.

Garrik clicked his tongue, drumming his fingers against the table again. He looked down at the paper he was jotting things down, then back at me.

"Three days."

I narrowed my eyes. "Excuse me?"

"You’ll have to wait three days." He leaned back, arms crossed. "If you want something that can pass as an original, I need time. The right materials, the right stamps, the right hands to look the other way. You think I just pull these things out of thin air?"

I gritted my teeth, frustration simmering just below the surface. Three days was too long to wait, but arguing wouldn't change Garrik's mind. I knew that. So I bit back my protest and nodded curtly. "Fine," I said, pushing my chair back. "Then you'll get your payment in three days."

Garrik's lips curled into a sly, unnatural smile. "Nice try, little bird," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "But you'll drop the dagger now."

My hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of the dagger at my side. It was more than just a weapon - it was my last resort, my only insurance. I wasn't about to give it up without a fight.

I stood my ground on the situation, lifting the dagger from its sheath and flipping it in my hand. "No," I said, trying to keep my voice steady and calm. "Keep the coins. I'll come back for the papers, and when I do, you'll return my money, and I'll give you the dagger."

Garrik's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but his expression quickly darkened. He wasn't used to being outsmarted, and it clearly didn't sit well with him.

"You better not be playing games with me," he growled, his voice low and menacing.

"I don't have time for games," I replied flatly, my gaze locked on his. "I just want what's owed to me."

Garrik studied me for a long moment, his eyes searching for any sign of weakness. But I didn't give him any. I stood with my jaw tightened and my face set— my grip on the dagger firm.

Finally, he let out a sharp breath. "Fine," he said. "But listen carefully. You don't breathe a word of this to anyone. Not a whisper, not a hint. If my name gets out, you won't live long enough to regret it."

I rolled my eyes, annoyed by the threat. "Don't be stupid," I said. "Why would I expose you when I'm illegal in this land? I'm not exactly in a position to go running to the authorities."

Garrik didn't look convinced, but he nodded once. "Then get out of here. Three days."

I turned and slipped out of the dimly lit room, and back into the hot afternoon air. The alley smelled strongly with the scent of damp earth and smoke, the sounds of the city muffled and distant. I took a deep breath, feeling a sense of tiredness wash over me. I had three days to prepare, and three days to get what I needed.