"Well I'm sorry to disappoint you but I intended to let you go from the start..." Inara replied, pausing briefly. "But now that things have turned out this way, there's something I want in return."
Silence fell. A rush of cold wind from outside seeped into Andel's drenched skin, causing him to shiver for a moment.
"Not interested." He refused, his gaze fixed on the ground.
Inara chuckled in response and Andel lifted his brows and asked, "What's funny?"
"Nothing, really. Just amuses me that you're opposed to the idea of your own freedom." She walked forward, her footsteps reverberating in the silence. "What exactly are you running away from?"
Andel's response was a hollow laugh, devoid of humor.
"Run away? Quite the joke, missy." Suppressed wheezes escaped his nose as he continued to giggle, almost breathless. "I know your deal. You're buttering me up into telling on who hired me. But unfortunately, I signed a cell contract so I can't say. Get back to watching Barbie or something, will you?"
Inara's eyes narrowed. "So, a Gavel user's involved, then?" She deduced, seizing the hint he had unintentionally slipped. And Andel's heart sank, realizing he had said too much.
A Cell Contract is a divine pact between two or more individuals, with at least one being a Gavel user. All parties agree on the terms and conditions, and if anyone breaches the agreement, a set penalty inevitably befalls them.
"Fifty million, South Helburk and a Gavel user. You've provided me with more clues than I could ever ask for." Inara said, flashing a shut-eye smile. "Why bother asking for your employer when I could just figure it out myself?"
Andel frowned. "I never said anything about South Helburk..." He protested weakly.
"But your wrist watch is two hours and fifteen minutes behind" She countered, pointing out the time zone difference between Vertia and Tartia.
"Plus you're a man in your forties wearing skinny leather pants. Do you know how telling that is? You might as well run around, yelling, 'Just landed from the Tarties, ye donkeys.' " She furthered, doing her best imitation of his voice.
"Chet, fucking fairs!" Andel grumbled, his fists, dripping with water, clenched despite their restraints. "Got me there, you fucking weapon!"
He started mumbling curses to himself. But when Beatrice grabbed his shoulder, revealing the most threatening scowl he had ever seen, he fell silent, shivers coursing through his spine.
"So, are you willing to hear out my offer?" The princess asked in a solemn voice.
"Fuck no!" Andel spat, taking a pause.
"Listen, I get it. You're super talented and got an awful lot to prove given your background and status. But you're in what? The seventh grade? No good will come from messing with these guys. Forget all this stuff and go focus on doing your homework."
"You know, your concern would be a lot more convincing if you hadn't tried to attack me for their sake." She said curtly and his face softened, revealing a self-conscious look.
"Oh, come on now. I wouldn't have done any of that stuff if I knew you were the princess" He lied but when Inara gave him a disappointed look he conceded, resuming his words.
"Fine, I'm a scumbag, alright. But even scumbags have a line they wouldn't cross. I was only trying to spook you, give you a little scare, you know. I'm not a huge fan of hitting women, let alone little girls."
"But your fight with Beatrice suggests you wouldn't pull your punches against a woman over a decade younger than you..." Inara said and he went silent. "But that's good— it means you might be capable of the job I have for you."
Shaking his head sideways, Andel gazed at her, skeptical and confused.
"Wait... what do you mean job?... I-I told you, I can't accept, I got no reason to take it..." Andel stammered and Inara immediately cut him off, lowering herself to his seated level.
"Hey, I'll ask again. What out there are you so afraid of?" She placed one hand on his shoulder, her gaze piercing. "Why do you resist your own freedom? Is it because of the life you've been forced into? Do you perhaps think you're cursed?"
Andel's pupils shuddered as her words punctured into his soul. No one had ever read him this easily before. And even though he had always longed for someone he could talk to, someone who would understand and sympathize with him. It would be easier to run into a down-to-earth Deathbringer— or so he thought until now.
"I see," she spoke again, shutting her eyes, having obtained her answer from the look on his face. "Well rest assured, you're not cursed."
"And what would you know about me, Sherlock?" He asked in a lowered voice, his battle against dejection written into his eyes.
"For starters, you're Hellia's strongest underworld bounty hunter, the mighty Andre Elias Cognac..." She began walking around him in circles, her footsteps echoing through the room. "Divorced father of two, the former leader of the famous Cognac merchant association."
"Only son of the golden eye— Maxwell Emile Cognac," she continued. "Graduated the Dell academy twenty four years ago, top of your class with near-perfect grades. Advanced to S-rank at nineteen, the third youngest in modern Dell history."
"Second youngest." Andel sharply interrupted.
"No, third." Inara corrected him, shaking her head. "The Countess of Mayhem, Milan Rayleigh was confirmed as second just two weeks ago. Nineteen years and twenty-three days old. A hundred and seventeen days younger than you were."
"Really?" Andel grimaced, lifting his brows and the princess nodded, resuming her steps.
"Confirm it yourself once you're out of here."
"Mate, I don't remember agreeing to leave." Andel countered, his pride wounded. "And if you really done your findings, you'd figure that jobs without fat paychecks are pretty much dross to me."
"I'm well aware of your oblation," Inara stopped in his front, removing her glove to reveal a mark on the back of her right hand. "But what if I could lift this supposed curse?" She asked, her confidence unwavering.
Andel's eyes snapped open in sheer disbelief, he had definitely seen that exact pattern somewhere before.
"Bloody heavens. Is that the Gavel of Regulation?"
"Correct" Inara confirmed and his heart began beating loud and fast.
Although, the diamond pattern was framed within another, it was clearly the Legendary Caster's Gavel. The same Gavel, that often appeared in pictures, paintings, historic records, and books.
When Andel was younger, he used to pray for the Legendary Caster to descend from heaven and lift his 'curse.'
But as he grew older, he had gradually resigned to his cruel fate. It was unimaginable to think that the Gavel had re-emerged, no less in the hands of someone he had wronged.
Fucking hell— He tightly pressed his lips together feeling a prickling discomfort in his skin. As he recalled the unfortunate events of the other day, one of her puzzling actions swallowed his thoughts.
"One question though..." He spoke, taking a brief pause. "Why'd you get a walkie at the antique shop?" He asked, his brown eyes curious and focused.
"You mean the satphone?" She tilted her head, asking and he gave a subtle nod. "Oh, that's because I'm not allowed to own a mobile phone or any smart devices yet."
"I see..." Andel said, shutting his eyes briefly, giving a bitter smile and a nod.
"Alright, I'll take the job," he paused, furrowing his brows with a sour taste lingering on his tongue. "But I want a different reward instead."
At his words, Inara's eyebrows rose in surprise. She had expected him to grasp this opportunity without any hesitation.
"Why is that?" She asked and following a fleeting silence, he responded.
"You know, it's true that I couldn't ask for anything better than for you to dispel my curse..." he halted, his voice a low rumble of compassion. "But when I look at you, I see a hatchling burdened with a curse far greater than mine,"
"And I know. I know you may argue that it's not a curse but trust me, missy. You'd only understand once you've experienced it yourself," he took another suspenseful pause before carrying on with his words.
"The first time you activate your Gavel is an important turning point in your life. You might end up suffering wounds that may never heal or maybe even worse." He said. But as the princess remained silent, he sighed and continued. "Sounds alarmist, I know. But my point is, no half decent adult would want you going through all that at your tender age,"
"And I told you, didn't I? Even a scumbag like me has a line I wouldn't cross" He concluded, bringing silence with his voice.
Something about his words irked Inara beyond her limits but she refused to let it show.
'You're too young. Not old enough,' everyone kept uttering the exact same words. Pope Hoover, her brother and now this random stranger she only met four days ago.
But it's fine. They could all go bang their heads against a shelf for all she cared.
"Suit yourself..." She said, her voice steady despite the tremors in her fingers. Next, she turned to Beatrice and commanded. "Help him get cleaned up and meet me in the study in half an hour."
"Understood, my princess" Beatrice gave a courteous bow as Inara turned around and began walking away.
"Oi, wait!" Andel called out to the princess but she didn't stop. "The bit on some Miley Raylay overtaking my second spot, it's not true, is it?" He asked, suspense etched on his face.
"Just ask Milan about it yourself. You'll be meeting her pretty soon, anyway" Inara waved off his words as she reached the exit, vanishing into the daylight.
*
Roughly an hour passed and Beatrice was now leading Andel away from the sprawling mansion. They had just left the study where Inara informed him the details of his new assignment. And now, Beatrice was lost in thought, wrinkles of annoyance darkening her complexion.
The imbecile had requested for the princess to nullify his previous cell contract using her superior Gavel— which is fine since forming or terminating cell contracts doesn't harm the Gavel user in any way.
But the uncultured cretin still had the nerve to ask for another reward. Now, under normal circumstances, Beatrice wouldn't have been this irritated. But what really got under her skin was that she had to step outside because he insisted on keeping the second request a secret.
It probably wasn't anything inappropriate, seeing as the princess agreed without a fuss. Yet, the fucking audacity— Beatrice's mind fumed like a volcano.
But whatever. All that was left was for the pathetic imbecile to do his job so the princess would be satisfied.
Right, the princess' satisfaction was always the priority. Nothing else mattered. Beatrice clenched her teeth, ignoring Andel's existence as their feet crunched against the white floors beneath them.
Trailing behind, Andel struggled with the stubborn cuff of the white long-sleeved shirt Beatrice had given him.
"The button just wouldn't reach. Darned shirt belongs to some scrawny lad dun't it?" He muttered, hoping to catch Beatrice's attention. But she ignored him.
Her mind was elsewhere, wishing he would shut up and go kill himself or something.
However, Andel cleared his throat and began narrating a story.
"You know, before the Eternal Blood-War, there was a huge division between major factions who wanted war and those who didn't." He started, taking a pause. "You see, those who wanted war stayed behind during the attack from the Red dynasty. But them pacifists who didn't; migrated South, crossing seas, oceans, ridges and mountains."
"Eventually, they discovered new land and established their own settlement, calling it Shadowhaven."
"Forward centuries later, circumstances led Shadowhaven to hold hands with the Red dynasty. And then, Shadowhaven deployed most of their combat forces to aid them bloody wankers escape the Dell continent's siege." Andel said, casting Beatrice a sidelong glance. Still, no response or acknowledgement came from the bodyguard.
"In a matter of years, Shadowhaven was swarming with Deathbringers— mostly kids who couldn't go to war, fourteen years and younger. But as you know, these arseholes are problematic by nature, they spur hate and chaos wherever they go."
"When Shadowhaven got fed up, they drove them little pricks away, isolating them within the mountains. But their entitled arses felt they deserved better and decided to get back at Shadowhaven for turning their back on 'em. The rest, as you know, is genocidal history."
Beatrice's jaw tightened. She knew all too well the horrors he spoke of and could already tell where this was heading.
"Them fist sized wankers— again, no older than fourteen— would pillage homes, killing multitudes, innocent families, women and children without mercy."
"By the time Shadowhaven could retaliate, them crimson-haired dickheads already done their damage. Villages massacred, cities torn apart, dyed red with blood." He stated sharply.
"And you... I could tell from the moment you swung a combat gauntlet at me," Andel continued, a hint of provocation in his voice. "You're Shadowborn, aren't you?" He prompted a response but Beatrice wouldn't even look at him as her eyes blazed with sheer disdain.
"Keen to hear your thoughts on the princess helping a descent of the dynasty, a sworn enemy of your home" Andel pressed, his voice beaming with curiosity.
Beatrice hesitated, her steps faltering briefly. But following a heavy silence, she replied in a steady but hollow voice.
"My personal feelings don't matter," she said, her face hardening with contempt. "The princess is an existence far more remarkable than you could ever imagine. Do whatever it takes to ensure you don't screw this up, or else I'll find you and stain my hands with your blood."
A mild chuckle fell from Andel's lips.
"You know, my father used to warn me about exceptional women— trouble-magnets, he always called 'em," he smirked as Beatrice's steps came to a halt. They had finally reached the estate's exit. "Probably 'cause I done a god-awful job heeding his warning in my younger years, I awakened a sixth sense that allows me to tell when a young girl is well on course to becoming one."
He headed towards the royal gates, leaving the bodyguard behind and a trail of footprints in the snow.
"Combat jobs are my specialty, so it's your own neck you ought to worry about. My life may be in shambles, but I don't got even a tad bit of envy for you. In fact, I'll forever be grateful that I'm not the one in your shoes," Andel scoffed. "Hang in there, Blitoris." He gave a slight wave as the ornate entrance gates automatically rolled open.
"Wait," Beatrice called out suddenly, and he stopped, turning to face her. She reached into her pocket and threw something towards him.
A small silver stone glinted in the feeble sunlight before landing in his palm. "The princess thought you might need this. Try not to die until after you get the job done." She said, her voice devoid of emotion.
Andel looked at the authentic silver stone, his jaw almost dropping to the floor. Silver of this quality was of nearly immeasurable value and a small stone like this was worth over a hundred million rels.
He glanced at Beatrice's retreating figure. She clenched her fists tightly at her sides, grappling with emotions she would never dare to reveal.
***