Night.
Theodore mansion.
Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.
***************
"She might not be a noble" Conan whispered, he sat on the stairs, elbows on his bent knees, with his hair falling messily on his eyes, as though he just engaged in a brawl.
He had been sitting here waiting for the lord to come back in for some minutes now, so he brought out the pressing thought the second he saw Theodore.
"I thought so too" Theodore countered.
His reply made Conan frown, and Theodore smirked knowingly.
"Then what is she then?" Conan is curious as he didn't get to know her because stepping out to shut the gates as the lord had requested he had found the coachman who dropped Lydia off attempting to leave without her, so he got himself busy.
"Something pure and delectable" Theodore replied, picking up the cup she drank from earlier with a dangerous smile on his face, his index circling the rim of the cup.
Conan had been with the Lord from the beginning and they had travelled wherever together, he was his only friend.
Theodore did not have many comrades, He was powerful and also avoided like a plague, so Conan knew when the lord was fascinated.
Lydia had been pretty but that was all, she didn't interest him.
She is suspicious because what family would send their daughter here? And then attempt to leave her.
"A Statham" acknowledged Conan to have the Lord mumble.
"Mmhmm I'm surprised" Theodore replied, a distant look on his face.
The Marquis is a well-known respectful figure known for his pride and pompousness who could've guessed he was hiding an illegitimate, a beautiful one.
The one Theodore had hungered for, in all of his life.
"Didn't think you were eavesdropping" Theodore supposed, wondering how Conan had found out about her origins.
Conan was his friend and companion but this was his adventure.
"Since I did not, I got the coachman" Conan replied.
The coachman would learn a few new things, he didn't deserve to go scout-free, not after dropping a young lady here unprotected and alone.
He had asked what family he was from before handing him to the beast.
"Mmm," Theodore gave a small nod of acknowledgement.
"That silly dumpling risked his family to get rid of what he presumes an abomination" Theodore commented shaking his head.
A chilling smirk making its way to his lips, striking eyes shining, it is apparent that she is illegitimate because that is why she was never brought out.
"We are not sure about the story of her coming here" his friend claimed.
Conan somehow thinks Lydia is one of those power-hungry ladies who would do anything to climb up the noble ladder.
"Oh, I am Conan" his expression grim
"She was sent as a sacrifice for me to do what I deem fit" he lets out.
Theodore is going to be a hero for her.
Her husband charming.
"What did you do with the coachman who brought her?" lord Theodore raised, he hadn't seen the man and he would like to question him a bit.
"Red wouldn't leave me alone so I gave him the idiot to play with"
Conan had left the coachman for the Lord's pet 'Red' to play with for a while, the coachman might lose a limb or two, but what was fun without a few broken bones?
"Mmm, I don't want him dead nonetheless" Theodore retorted.
They wouldn't want the man dead now, as then he'd be useless.
Theodore needs a lot of inside information before he leaves for Statham's estate.
Red, a big white beast Theodore had gotten from the north of the world during his travels.
He had gotten it from a friend he would gladly forget.
Red wasn't just any beast, he was a mystical creature that had no stain on his white outer appearance but was called red because he made everybody who crossed him or his master see Red.
He made all of Theodore's enemies see red.
"I'm going to get tomorrow's muckrake," Conan said.
He sounded a bit too excited to Theodore. Conan is obsessed with the writings of a young woman, one he believes is a witch who anonymously delivers gist to the hungry Critic Arlians not knowing if it was a he or a she but Theodore specifically doesn't fancy witches.
"You should steer clear of those practitioners" Lord Theodore's warning came out like a threat and he didn't mind, Conan should know he was serious.
"Trouble makes people troublesome," Conan said softly.
Magic practitioners won't attack if they don't feel threatened, so it's safe but the same cannot be said if he ever goes there with Theodore, the magic practitioners would automatically go into a safe mode.
"I might not help, don't say I didn't warn you" the lord of Critic Arley warned, as he started to step up the stairs majestically.
"You're just jealous there's someone else I like after you" Conan accused
"Except I don't even know this person's face so relax" he persuaded.
The muckraker who writes about anything interesting that happens in Critic Arley from scandals to banquets and deaths was an anonymous supplier and only sells a few copies in the black market once every week.
She has written about things that transpired in Critic Arley that even the accused had forgotten the act sometimes.
"What is the worst that could happen?" Conan whistled, picking up his weird-looking skin coat. He walked out the large doors stressing to put the coat on.
"You fall in love" Theodore whispered more to himself than to Conan
*
* *
*
Night.
Bedroom, Statham estate.
Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.
***************
Lydia could not rest.
She was as restless as a dog in a burning house trying to take the last bone before the last roof fell, she needed to run away but she needed a home.
Her family had sent her to the enemy's territory with malicious intent but she was not at all restless about that, what her mind kept drifting to, was the sensual encounter with the lord, the way he had looked at her had almost sent her running for the cart but still managed to keep her rooted with anticipation, her breath hitching as she gave her breathless replies.
She had been frightened in the beginning but the lazy part of her cautiousness went to rest along the line and she found herself enjoying the little encounter.
A not so little of an encounter.
Lord Theodore, a big topic in the whole of Critic Arley, Living in the same city as he meant more trepidation, he was famous in an infamous way, and he was a powerful man.
A man who governed this part of Critic-Ishire with a strong fist, he did not have to threaten for people to abide, he commanded power and he was given the fear and not so much of respect if they could still prevent their daughters from attending the banquet held by him, they probably didn't want attention from the crazed king.
As much as there were so many whispers among the people of Critic-Ishire, most of them did not know the lord of their city, but the rumour about him being a monster is so thick everyone breathes it.
They had mostly relied on the rumours and fear that steamed into the air from the lord's mansion, without evidence They could talk endlessly about him but they did not know him.
Wondering if she had been privileged or unlucky to have come across a few history books which had made her know how he looked.
The descriptions in some of those papers were detailed; how his gold locks reached his lower back and how the top of his head could reach the top of an average man's door, his striking blue eyes that held knowledge only someone with an old soul possessed, brows that are always drawn together as though he was always disappointed, bored and almost angered, and as she had seen him today she had immediately recognized him.
It had felt like she knew him but she wouldn't be delusional, whoever wrote that book must know him real well.
They were some dated far back but still describing Lord Theodore with different names and regions they all were.
Did Lord Theodore reincarnate?
Why is no one talking about his uncanny resemblance to whoever it is in these books?
Did no one read the books? she shook her head, turning in bed her thoughts shifted.
The Lord had been a bit decent and courteous with her but she could not let all the little fluttering and the easy conversation they had obliterate the things she had read about him.
She did not think the old books her mother got for her would ever come this handy, now she knew who to avoid but unfortunately, no one to go close to.
Mathilda, her estate companion and the mysterious muckraker, maybe?
The papers come to Critic Arley every week and the amount of gossip in them could make a curious lone child like Lydia sigh in contentment at being fed with so much about the present and not just history past.
She sees the Muckraker as her friend despite not knowing her.
The city muckraker could be the only person in the present that she connects with, to say the least, and she doesn't even know if the muckraker will be alive when she'll finally be allowed to leave the estate.
She sighed.
Electric blue eyes, like it heard a whisper her mind went back to the notion of Lord Theodore.
His eyes held hers earlier, two different shades of blue, colliding beautifully.
She had never thought blue was as beautiful but seeing his icy blue ones having the power to take her breath away, she had thought maybe she wasn't as unpleasant as she believed, the lord was a beautiful question mark…
As she lies on her bed turning and squirming she slowly drifts to sleep the thought of Lord Theodore drifting along with her.