"Forgotten are those whom we neglect."
~Tasmiya Shaik
Reinhardt Villa
Saturday, 19:27
Sebastian's plan thus far had emerged victorious. Avery's responses to the Chief's questions were smart and compromised her in no way. He was successful as he strategically persuaded the Chief to grant him custody of Avery, and as a bonus, he was fortunate that his team now handled the responsibility of the entire investigation. All reports and procedures pertaining to his brother's accident by the law were now under his jurisdiction without any interference, as was the regulations of the bureau, after all, who would not place their trust in the man who sat at the top of Galrik Headquarters but even in his position, some formalities were required to be completed to get his way.
Even with success in his favour, he would have to exercise more than just caution at this point. He could not conceal his actions for long, and if he did, that would incur one to believe that he greatly underestimated his Chief's abilities. His Chief? Now that the realization had struck him, Sebastian was not one to follow the orders of others, and his position as Vice-Chief ensured that he would receive none.
As the newly proclaimed Alpha of his clan, Sebastian was welcomed with new responsibilities. The clansmen would have to acknowledge him as the Alpha. He would have to prove his worth before they followed in his lead. He cared little for their opinion, but he would do it for Avery. What would Atticus have done? Would he allow his daughter to be scouted by the order, or would he fight for her? Would he bear the risks or allow fear to consume her?
~He would give her a choice.~
A low growl emitted from within Sebastian.
~Let the enchantress decide.~
The voice of opinion echoed again within his head, and Sebastian was obliged to pay it no heed.
~To reason with you is like persuading a rock to move of its own accord.~
'Do not meddle in my affairs, Lahn,' Sebastian warned sternly.
~Stubbornness will but only lead you to an early grave.~
The voice advised and retreated its advance.
Sebastian laid his thoughts to rest as he was interrupted by a knock at the door. His hands were clasped behind his back as he faced the door and uttered a word of approval.
Sebastian was greeted by Andreas and a man who appeared in a black tuxedo. His long white-blonde hair was neatly braided and left to rest over the front of his left shoulder while a few bangs escaped at the sides of his forehead. He had eyes of emerald that held a stern gaze and averted to the floor as he bowed.
'I apologize for the intrusion, Signór; however, Mr. Cavendish insisted on his meeting with you,' Andreas apologized.
'No matter, he is welcomed to stay.'
Andreas bowed before he took his leave.
'Isaac Cavendish at your service, my Lord. I do believe we have met on a few occasions.'
'I do vaguely recall. My brother did indeed speak of your sharp intel and skills.'
Few occasions? Isaac Cavendish humored himself more than he intended to. Had Sebastian not remembered him? Had the young lad been corrupted by the company of humes? What man would 'vaguely recall' the one who had cultivated him into a warrior. No. There was something wrong; however, this was not the time to act.
'I served temporarily as Lord Atticus' advisory.'
'Temporarily?'
'My duties lie at the side of Lady Avery; she is, however, much too young to uphold her responsibilities.'
'Advisory...you wield the one called Araun?'
'And you, Lahn, Lord.'
'I see.'
Sebastian gestured for Isaac to take a seat, but he politely refused.
'Thank you, my Lord, but my matter is of urgency. An ambassador will soon arrive from the Order. I attempted to stall the visit, but they are rather persistent.'
Sebastian cussed in silent rage. They would dare to challenge his authority? If it were a show they desired, then he would perform this act well.
'I will handle the matter,' Sebastian announced in assurance.
'I will lend my assistance, my Lord.'
'I am no master of yours; you have no obligation to give aid.'
'I base my decisions on the best interests of Lady Avery. As Aldari, should we not guard each other's backs?'
'Do not be mistaken. This matter is not of the warcan's dealings. I deal with this as an asharren warrior alone. You will have other opportunities to serve at Avery's side; this is something that I will decide about with my own strength.'
'Are you suddenly well versed incorrect judgment? This is the very root of your downfall, Sebastian. You have never once trusted and nor believed in your fellow warriors to stand at your side.'
'I don't believe you're here to inform me of a mere ambassador, Mr. Cavendish. Trust my fellow asharren warriors? Was it not they who wronged me?' Sebastian's expression darkened.
' And so do you pity yourself for being wronged? No matter, as usual, you hold too much pride to take heed of my words. It is not my intention to express disrespect; however, your actions thus far pertaining to Lady Avery have been rather inadequate and threatening.' Isaac observed him with a pained expression.
'I do not require the aid of some advisory to lecture me on how to take care of my niece.'
'And I, my Lord, have no intention of allowing Lady Avery's responsibility to be upheld by a man who cowardly fled instead of fighting for his own justice.'
Isaac Cavendish's words impaled the very center of its target, and Sebastian exercised a great deal of patience to restrain his retaliation. The man before him was correct in every regard, and his silence only displayed an act of cowardice. No, he would not succumb to petty remarks.
'Dwelling on the past, are we Mr.Cavendish? I thought you a man better than that. Persuasion, you say? I have no reason to explain my methods to the likes of you.'
'I'll have you know Mr.Reinhardt that all of Aranduil mourns the loss of their Lord and Mistress. You, who severed ties to the Aldari Clan, the true Lord who abandoned his people, what can you do that will absolutely ensure Lady Avery's safety?!' Isaac remarked in rage, and a heart-piercing realisation struck Sebastian.
What could he do for Avery? What had he done thus far for her? Rescued her from the accident? Protected her from the bureau? No, she was fending for herself. He had hardly performed his duties as her guardian. He did not comfort her and nor did he affectionately offer her his care. Affection? It would appear as of; lately, he was humoring himself.
Isaac sighed, composed himself, and turned to take his leave but halted briefly and glanced over his shoulder.
'There are those willing to fight for you; think of them before you decide that the weight of this clan is shouldered by yourself, Sebastian Alexander Reinhardt.'
Andreas leaned against the exterior wall adjacent to Sebastian's study door and smirked when Isaac Cavendish emerged from the room and closed the door behind him.
'Cavendish,' Andreas confronted Isaac. 'Have a few minutes to spare?'
'Son of House Rossi, is it? If I remember correctly, you despised me, what conversation could hold out between us?' Isaac questioned apathetically, his eyes devoid of emotion.
Andreas sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Why was it that Isaac Cavendish had always stirred uneasiness within him? Nonetheless, he signalled for the older warrior to follow him until they were well out of range of Sebastian's superior hearing sense.
'It would appear that Sebastian does not remember you,' Andreas frowned and folded his arms across his chest.
'It would seem so; what is your point?' Isaac raised a brow.
'Does it not concern you? It is not as though you were some passerby or stranger to his life! You raised him!' Andreas fisted the wall behind Isaac; the underlayer of concrete cracked under the force of his attack. 'Does it mean nothing to you that he does not remember?'
'What should it matter to you? You are concerned for no apparent reason. You are misguided and are indecisive of which position you stand in servitude to Sebastian. You are young and callow, but a child compared to myself,' Isaac weaved his way around Andreas and proceeded to his destination. 'Do not interfere with my matters; you're much too early to lecture me on what should be a call for concern.' With those final words, he departed.
Andreas cursed the older warrior a thousand times, but it had not enough to satisfy the urge to rip out his throat. Such fantasies were but wishful thinking. No warrior in their sane and sound state of mind would dare to challenge Isaac Cavendish.