Chapter 117:
Fear
As Malcolm walked Alywin through the palace, his hand wound around his wrist, Alywin knew there was no escape. The servants that trailed the halls lowered their eyes, greeting the Duke and his guest with timid bows.
When the door to the duke's room was closed, Alywin stood with his back facing the door, his eyes focused on Malcolm, who had walked further into the room and gestured towards the sofa in the sitting room. No words were exchanged, but Alywin walked forward with heavy steps, dragging himself to be closer to Malcolm, his gaze held on the other man, hiding his fear.
"How are you feeling, Alywin?" Malcolm smiled towards him, but there was no warmth behind that gaze, only the chill of winter hiding behind those golden eyes.
"I am well, thank you, Your Highness." Alywin responded, his eyes holding a faux warmth that barely reached his smile.
Malcolm laughed, stepping closer to Alywin, who stood next to the chaise lounge in an awkward fashion. "You don't have to be so formal, Alywin. We're in private after all."
Alywin's legs tapped against the side of the chaise's lounge, threatening to trip him, pinning him to the piece of furniture like an animal for the slaughter.
"Now, let's have a chat, shall we? It's been some time since we've last spoken. I quite missed our daily conversations, Alywin." Malcolm's glasses gleamed under the light of the room, hiding his golden eyes behind the glare of the glasses. "How has Theresa been? It's been some time since I've last seen her. I understand you met with her recently. Is she well?"
The words were indirect, but Alywin understood immediately. His heart began to pound restlessly in his chest, bringing a cold sensation through his legs. It was the first time Alywin had directly been confronted by Malcolm since his return. He had forgotten how suffocating the duke had been, how scary he had become when his anger grew. Remembering the past, Alywin felt a shiver run down his spine, his fingers trembling.
"Don't. Don't hurt her." Alywin felt as though his chest was being squeezed by a strong hand, holding him in place like a weighted rock. "Theresa has nothing to do with this, Malcolm-"
Stopping Alywin's words with his own, Malcolm spoke aloud. "But you took him there, didn't you?" Malcolm rose a brow, his golden eyes shadowed by the rim of his thin gold lenses. "Is that why I haven't been able to find him, Alywin? Is he hiding from me with her?"
Alywin's spine trembled, but he clenched his fists, fighting the urge to cower away from the man. He found himself relearning the steps he had used to pacify the man before. When he was this angry, he would talk back much more, attempting to verbally corner Alywin with his own actions, circling around him, winding like a snake around its prey.
"I-" Alywin spoke, but he froze.
He's testing me. Alywin swallowed the words back in his throat. He could not answer freely now. He had to appease the man before he could even attempt to defend himself. Unlike before, Malcolm was no longer the trepid little boy he once was.
Malcolm turned to stare at him, his gaze cold and contemplating, much like they had in the past, that fateful day when that young man had-
No, don't think about that. He's trying to intimidate you, Alywin. Don't let him do this.
He would not let Malcolm win.
I can only pacify him. It may not work this time, but at least I tried. The pair had not seen each other in so long, Malcolm was weak to any intimacy Alywin showed him. He could only pace himself, teasing the man to keep him reined in long enough for him to learn the duke's plan, long enough for him to find Clarence and escape.
Lifting his head, facing the taller man, Alywin held his breath as he stood on his tip-toes, landing a gentle kiss on Malcolm's cold cheek, the gold glasses chain brushing coldly against his skin. Though the kiss itself was brief, Alywin lingered next to the man's ear, holding himself still as he looked down, appearing docile as he said in a low tone. "I'm sorry, Malcolm. I just missed Theresa so much, and the only person who could get me out of the palace was Clarence."
Alywin's eyes reddened, "Theresa would never hide the prince. Quite frankly, she hated him. The only person she would ever accept is you." He apologized twice, the second apology towards himself as he lied fluidly.
Feeling the other man's lips lingering next to his ear, Malcolm hugged Alywin close, brushing the back of his head with his hand in a gentle manner, contrary to the sourness of the words in his mouth. "If only you were always this obedient, Alywin." The duke's chin rested on Alywin's shoulder, and the words he spoke were only a whisper, but carried the weight of a harsh reminder Alywin had nearly forgotten. "Never mind that. In the future, let's see Theresa again. I'm sure she misses us. It's been nearly ten years after all."
The hands wrapped around Malcolm's back stiffened, and Alywin fell completely silent, the bile in his throat threatening to escape at any time. "I'd like that." His voice was hoarse, but steady, hiding the anxiety brewing in his heart.
I'm scared. Alywin closed his eyes, thinking of past times as the arms around him tightened, holding him in place like golden chains, threatening to never let go of him.
As the two fell into silence, their bodies close, there was a knock at the door of Malcolm's sitting room. "Your highness, Princess Charlotte has arrived." After the disappearance of Prince Clarence, Charlotte's title fell back into her own, losing the previous foothold she had gained in her marriage to Clarence.
Malcolm stepped away from Alywin naturally, as if hiding his toy carefully from his loving wife as he stepped forward, gesturing for Alywin to sit as he walked towards the door, an unexpected conversation preparing to take place.
…
Cordelia opened her eyes, slowly blinking. A stream of light filtered through a crack in the window's curtains, seemingly directing itself straight into Cordelia's red-rimmed eyes. She groaned and turned her head, a throb in her neck pausing her movement as she carefully sat up.
She glanced around, careful not to move her neck. She almost forgot where she was, grabbing her blankets up around her as her eyes scanned the room, slowly recognizing her surroundings.
The door slowly opening startled Cordelia, who cried in pain as a sharp pain ran up her neck. Kivah, who had popped his head in the door, jumped in surprise, almost dropping the bundle in his arms. As his shoulders fell, the shock waning, he quickly walked over to Cordelia, stopping at the foot of her bed.
"Are you alright?" Kivah asked softly, glancing at the hand resting gingerly on her neck.
"No." Cordelia said hoarsely, clearing her throat in an attempt to regain her voice. Cordelia glanced down, shocked by the weak tremble of her voice. She then glanced around her, suddenly confused by where she was and who was in front of her.
There was simply no way the things she had been through for the last few weeks were real. It had been a nightmare. A long, horrible nightmare.
But as Kivah slowly, cautiously, put out his hand to touch Cordelia's neck, his eyes trained on the skin she nursed, and touched her warm skin, his cold fingers sending a sharp but soothing sensation throughout her neck and face, she felt the horrible, sinking urge to cry.
"It's all real, isn't it?" Cordelia said gruffly, blinking back tears, "Victoria is dead, and I'm all alone."
"It is real, but you're not alone." Kivah said with a smile, gently pulling Cordelia's hand that rested on her neck away, "You've got me, and Countess Zavior, and you still haven't contacted your family. I'm sure they are worried sick."
"Lies." Cordelia mumbled, closing her eyes as Kivah's cold fingers touched the sore spot on her neck. The icy feeling of his fingers felt nice against her baked skin, "My family will shun me. I know it. To them, I'm a failure."
Kivah's fingers stiffened against Cordelia's neck, the sensation causing Cordelia to open her eyes and glance at him, but Kivah smiled again, this time, his expression guarded.
"You should reach out to them anyway. You won't know how they will react until you do." Kivah said, retracting his hand quickly, "Your neck feels fine. You probably bruised something while you were sleeping. It should be fine if you give it an hour or two." Kivah glanced over to the bundle he had been carrying, now limply sitting on the bed in a pile, "That's right. The countess sent me to check on you, to see if you would like to get some fresh air. Our other guest is awake now too, so she would like to speak to both of you, if you are okay with that."
"Why should I?" Cordelia looked down, clenching her fists in her lap. "There's nothing left for me anyway."
Kivah shook his head lightly, holding out his hand for Cordelia to take. "I think the guest has something to say to you." Kivah paused before he said, "Something important."
Trepidly, Cordelia lifted her pale hand, her thin fingers trembling lightly as she reached out and placed her palm in Kivah's warm hand. His hand was not much larger than hers, but his hands brought a sense of comfort with them, reminding her of Victoria.
"If I feel uncomfortable, I'll leave immediately." Cordelia retorted, attempting to hold some power over the situation, allowing her to gain the great power she had lost before.
"That's okay." His words were soothing to Cordelia. It made her want to follow him, even if for only a moment, to grasp the short straw of hope presented to her. "Get changed. Then I'll take you to them."
…
"Finally, we're only a day or two away from the countess's mansion…!" Jasmine said with a happy huff, catching her breath as the group walked up a long, steep mountainous path. While there were many newly developed roads in the area, they were cautious and used back trails through most of their travels the closer they became to the Highland District.
The area was littered with thieves and bandits, knowing that many merchants would pass through the merchant hub only a short distance away. It also led to a bustling mercenary industry in the outskirts of the mountains, attracting many soldiers that were out of work or considering a career change before the beginning of the next war.
Silas and Clarence were moderately tired, but they quickly recovered, but Maeir did not seem to need to recover at all. She walked up the mountain with the most energy, her face full of vigor as she stared forward, as if challenging the mountains with her fierce aged eyes.
"My, you're quite fierce. Aren't you, Maeir?" Jasmine joked, fishing out her canteen from the inside of her small satchel, gulping down water with a sigh. "I wish I was scary like that. It'd get me out of trouble when I found it, that's for sure."
Clarence raised a brow, "What did you do before this job, Jasmine?" The group had become more familiar with each other the longer they traveled together, however there was still a cold wall creating a distance between Jasmine and themselves, knowing she was only a hired hand, even if she were unconventional in her methods.
Jasmine laughed, closing her canteen. "Before this I did a variety of jobs, mostly mercenary work around the kingdom. Bloodhound Beau and I know each other on a first-name basis, which is why I took this job, to lay low for a while and help out Camille while I'm at it." Though she spoke a lot, there was not much information in her words, leaving a vague taste to her strange background. "For now, that means babysitting you."
Silas asked a question as they prepared to continue their arduous trek down the rocky path ahead. "
"You used to be a Faelfierian guard, right? I remember hearing about that." Jasmine asked Silas, who had a mild look of shock on his face. "You should be able to handle yourself pretty well I imagine. You two fought before, after all." She laughed, staring between Silas and Clarence.
Silas frowned, "Repeatedly." He turned to Clarence with a dark gaze.
Clarence scratched the back of his head awkwardly, "We had some differences to settle then." He paused, his voice low as he lowered his head in an embarrassed fashion. "Things are different now. I want us to get along."
"Is that so?" Jasmine stared at Clarence with a smile, "You can ask Camille more about elves when you meet her."
Maeir snorted, "That won't be necessary. Once we meet Countess Zavior, we will prepare to go back to the Faelfier Kingdom."
An awkward pause engulfed the group, bringing their conversation to an abrupt standstill. No one was willing to break the silence, and instead they continued forward, keeping their thoughts to themselves.
After two more hours, the daylight had shifted, bringing with it the heat of the Spring sun. Silas began to sweat a little, but the bonnet around his head kept his face shadowed, cooling him somewhat. Clarence wanted to give something to Silas to cool him, however he used his mana, abruptly shattering Clarence's weak hopes. Maeir watched the wordless exchange, her expression taut as a bow string.
Their peaceful travels were abruptly broken as they neared the Highland Mountain range, a place particularly void of any regular travelers, making for a perfect space for bandits to linger to prey upon unsuspecting travelers. Though they had taken extra care to travel during mid-day, they were caught in an area void of travelers. All four of them were on their guard.
Silas walked side by side with Clarence, their voices low as they spoke of irrelevant topics, Silas's tone lukewarm to Clarence's enthusiastic, puppy-dog tone full of hidden joy. Jasmine walked towards the back with Maeir, who kept up the pace, even using her mana as she was with the transformation gem.
It was not until they reached the middle of the mountainous valley that they heard the sound of movements, abruptly stopping them in their tracks as they gathered together, back to back, preparing to face the unknown threat. As they watched the sides of the steep mountain rock, a group of twenty bandits slid down the rock, carrying their swords and other weapons with disgusting smiles on their faces, happy to have caught the weak-looking group of prey.
"Stay close!" Maeir shouted, stepping towards Silas and Clarence as she turned her back to the pair, her eyes focused on the men coming to surround them.
Silas and Clarence nodded, their swords having already been drawn as they held them up in a defensive position, prepared to fight. Even in his dress and bonnet, Silas moved freely as he stood forward, his frame looking small under the cover of his dress.
Jasmine lifted the rapier off of her waist, speaking quietly to Maeir, "I prefer a bow, but I don't mind using a sword every now and then." Maeir stood back to back with Jasmine, her sword lifted in a defensive fashion as she stared at the group of bandits surrounding them, her gaze full of intimidation. "I'll take out the two archers near the front. You take the two heavy weights on the sides."
Maeir did not respond, but her expression was firm, agreeing with Jasmine as she directed her gaze forward, her eyes burning with fury as she stared at the bandits, her mana flaring through her body. Her desire for blood lust was looming, but refused to overshadow her reason.
"Be careful, men! There are two men in this group!" One of the leading bandits yelled aloud, pointing his sword between Silas and Clarence, "There, right there-"
Silas blinked twice, feeling as though the seriousness of the situation died a little as he stared at Clarence and then back at the bandit, his eyebrow raised as he held his sword, feeling all but foolish having to fight this group of uneducated scoundrels.
"Not you, you stupid bitch!" The man growled, "You think you could try to fool us? Look at that manly gait of yours! Stomping your feet like a damn ox!" His thick fingers jabbed towards Jasmine with some resentment, making the whole group pause for a moment.
Jasmine gasped in shock, her voice flaring, "Me!? A man?" She shook her head, her eyes full of disbelief, "Are you fucking joking with me, you brutish cavemen? Are you blind? Maybe I should show you what a real man looks like, hm?"
Silas held back the laugh that was threatening to leak from his lips, but Clarence was unable to hold back an audible snort, his sword still clenched in his hands.
"You think that's funny, pretty boy?" The brutish man yelled, his gaze fixed on Clarence, who looked towards the man with a smile of his own. "Don't worry, I'll enjoy carving a smile on that little corpse of yours!"
Clarence wanted to retort back, teaching the foolish bandit some couth, however Silas grabbed his left sleeve with a tug, glancing at him with a heavy gaze. Stop it. You're only wasting your breath.
Looking down at Silas's hand, Clarence's ears tinted pink for a moment under the cover of his dyed hair, bringing a soft atmosphere between the two before it was suddenly broken by the bandit leader.
Stepping from the back of the group was a tall man, his height nearly towering over Clarence, and his waist at least twice as wide as Silas's. He was not as dirty as the other men, but his hair was long, tied behind his head in a messy fashion as his fur coat draped around his bare shoulders, his broad chest covered by a heavy iron plate. "Take care of the men first, then we'll take care of the women."
Maeir sneered, her eyes deep red, burning like rubies as she stared at the bandit leader, her gaze even more frightening than the other bandits. They felt the chill in the air, but they ignored the growing pit in their guts, feeling as though it were only a passing cold wind.
"You'll have to get through me first, you cretins!" Clarence yelled, partially blocking Silas with his frame as he added, "You'll be dead before you can touch a hair on any of their heads!" It was the first time Silas had heard those words from Clarence, the first time he had heard those words not directed towards him.
To Silas, Clarence was much like a dog, barking and growling as he wished, however if he chose to bite, his power could be surprising. It was obvious the bandits were experienced, but they still clearly underestimated their group. It was difficult to tell who would fare the best, however, in this battle.
"These two won't put up much of a fight." One of the larger bandits said, his gaze predatory as he stared over Silas and Clarence, who stood side by side, their swords raised, ready to protect themselves. Silas sneered at the hairy man, his lip curled in disgust, but the man barked, full of laughter. "Besides, I want that one. She's quite feisty." The hairy man's smile was teethy, his grin stained with aged stains, making him appear more disheveled.
Maeir gripped her sword with a tight hand, threatening to cut the man's head off before he could utter another disgusting word towards her son, however Clarence had already spoken, threatening them with aggression Maeir had yet to see from the young man. Not bad, for a traitorous human. Maeir chuckled to herself, preparing to enjoy a feast of bloodshed as she stepped forward, starting the battle with a grim smile on her face.
The fight began, bringing the smell of blood and gunpowder in the air as the bandits changed forward, their swords pointed towards Silas's group with malicious intentions.
…
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Ugh, I'm so stressed out... but the chapter is up! I've been stress translating all week, and my brain wants to call it quits. Too much work and life stress... someone give me a break for now ;; At least I enjoy translating and YMtK, the yucky work stress... not so much.
Huge thanks to Hunny for adding to and editing this! I don't think I could have finished it on my own this week >n<; But, I'll be taking a nap soon and eating dinner, so time for some self care (like our babies in battle, maybe in a chapter or two ;; )
Thank always for reading! See you all next week~!!