Finished and edited (on time) by: Hunny
Chapter 116:
Shifting Powers
The carriage shook as one of the wheels dipped into a hole in the well-worn road, rocking its solemn guests.
“Stop making such a nasty expression.” The duke snapped at his son, flustered by the recently unfolding events, “I did not have a say in this audience. He gave me no choice. He is as good as king now, so his word is law.” His son’s eyes remained trained outside, ignoring the self-pitying woes of his father, “I know you don’t want to, but just get through it. I’ve protected you long enough. It’s about time you did something for me.” The duke waved his hand in the air, lifting his nose, as if trying to disperse a foul odor, “Just do what you did when you were a child. Obviously it worked well, maybe too well considering how he constantly summons you to the palace.”
Alywin refused to respond. Instead, he shut his eyes, his stomach sick at the thought of going to the palace and seeing him.
The duke huffed, annoyed at his son’s blatant disrespect, but not foolish enough to ruin the one chance at staying in the soon-to-be-crowned king’s favor. Though Duke Cyneric had done everything Duke Godfreed had asked, even helping turn a handful of the other nobles to Duke Godfreed’s side, Duke Cyneric could see the powerful man’s patience thinning at Alywin’s firm and constant refusal to see him.
Malcolm never was a patient boy, and now, this patience could only grow thinner day by day, threatening their position as a close advisor to the king.
The duke had at first blocked Duke Godfreed’s audiences with Alywin, after seeing Alywin’s demeanor after their visit, but the duke could only protect Alywin for so long, and the costs of protecting him were beginning to greatly outweigh the benefits. The duke was putting his entire household at risk by continuing to incite the anger of Duke Godfreed.
Alywin’s father rapped on the ceiling of the carriage with his fist, “How much longer?” He shouted to the driver.
“Almost there, Sir!” The carriage driver shouted back.
The duke’s cold eyes turned back to his son. For the first time in a long time, Duke Cyneric stared at his son’s face. The shape of his eyes reminded the duke of Alywin’s mother. A passing fancy that had borne a lifelong mistake. He had always liked her eyes though. It was the one thing that he remembered about her.
It’s a shame your son has taken the same path you did. The duke thought coldly, thinking back to the first time he saw her. His friends, young and foolish, had taken him to a madam’s house during a night of drinking after they learned he had never been with a woman before.
That was the first time he met her.
She stood above him, descending the stairs of the grand parlor room, a waiting area for “guests.” Her long, blonde hair had been pulled away from her face, revealing her deep brown eyes that stared at him with contempt and amusement.
Though he only originally entered the establishment at the goading of his companions, afterward, he visited frequently of his own volition, spending frivolous amounts of money on the woman, whose contempt and amusement only grew with each new visit.
Yes, truly a shame. The duke thought to himself, shaking his head as he adjusted his gloves. He had not realized it, but he had been clenching his fists, wrinkling his meticulous appearance.
The carriage suddenly pulled to a stop, the neighing of the horses causing the duke’s head to ache.
The carriage door suddenly ripped open, and Duke Cyneric’s eyes once more turned to his son, his only child. A flash of fear shot through Alywin’s eyes like a flying arrow, in through one eye and out the other. Then a hardened smile grew on his face.
Finally, the duke looked over to the carriage door.
There, his shadow filling the interior of the carriage, was Malcolm. Malcolm’s hand slithered into the carriage, wrapping itself firmly around Alywin’s wrist.
“I’ve been waiting for you!” Malcolm said sweetly to his captee, a brilliant smile on his eerily handsome face, as he began pulling Alywin out of his seat and to him, “I’ll send Alywin back in one of my carriages, so don’t worry about waiting for him.” Malcom said to the duke dismissively, not taking his eyes off Alywin.
The fear that was Alywin’s eyes turned in the duke’s mind. A horrible feeling clawed at him, building in the base of his stomach as he stared at the coiled grip around Alywin’s wrist. Duke Cyneric cleared his throat, his mouth dry.
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The duke waved at him in affirmation, unable to bring himself to speak. The driver nodded in understanding and closed the door, taking no time to return to his seat and cracking the reins at the horses.
The driver’s brows furrowed as he led the carriage out of the palace gates.
In the decades he had worked for the duke, he had never seen the duke have such a flustered expression on his face.
It bewildered the old driver, who tucked it away as an interesting tale to tell his wife.
…
The few days that passed were grueling for the group of four. Their funds were managed by Jasmine, who received a fair stipend for their travels to get them safely and comfortably to the Highland District. The mountainous region to the north was not commonly traveled, however, and the terrain was difficult. Finding developed paths was even harder, but with the merchants’ frequent trips to the area, there were some usable paths just outside of the forest, the growth of the nearby plants stunted by overuse of the trail.
The inns were small and poorly furnished, but there was enough space for the pairs to share the sizable beds provided by the inns, purposely meant for cheap travelers, much like themselves. While Maeir was reluctant to allow Clarence to share a bed with her son, Jasmine refused to share a bed with either of the men, watching how the two of them slept on the bed.
“Maeir sleeps like a corpse, much better than the two of you.” She huffed, receiving the keys from the innkeeper as they walked to their modest accommodations for the first night outside the safety of Josephine’s cottage. As the group of four walked together, Silas shook his head, feeling as though Jasmine was being dramatic.
I don’t move in my sleep. He thought, entering the room after Jasmine. If anything, that prince should stay on his side of the bed.
Silas’s mana took longer than Maeir’s to recover, making his sleep much deeper than the others. As soon as he stopped using the gem, his body would become fatigued, allowing him enough time to wash and change his clothes before he fell into the bed, sleeping peacefully as soon as the sun had completely set. This left only a short time before he was joined by the past royal, who seemed to trepidly stand beside the bed, afraid of waking him.
At first, Clarence had some embarrassment towards sharing a bed with Silas, however the more he slept by Silas’s side, the more he enjoyed it. The man’s body was cool, keeping his warm body a fair temperature as he found a comfortable but distant position to lie in, feeling as though Maeir would murder him in his sleep if his hands were to waunder any farther than his sides. He could only enjoy the sensation of Silas’s head resting on his chest, warming his heart another degree with sweet joy.
Jasmine did not seem to mind the environment she slept in and quickly began to snore quickly after her head hit the pillow, leaving only Maeir and Clarence to lie awake, their gazes often landing on each other, each holding different meanings as they fought to sleep through the night.
Once the group reached the halfway point of their travels, their speed increased, their momentum growing as they began to work more fluidly as a group, knowing when Silas and Maeir had to rest their mana before they could continue their journey. As a group of three women, they took extra caution in their journey, avoiding traveling at night, preparing to avoid any rambunctious or obnoxious travelers on their path.
They were not in any position to attract attention, after all.
Walking through the main traveling path towards the Highland District, Silas’s group did not attract much attention. They blended in well with the various groups of travelers, even with the donkey. Many of the travelers were preparing to move to different parts of the Yursear Kingdom, some excited for the changes Malcolm had promised to bring, while others were afraid of what was to come under the new ruler. Many merchants were part of this change, their fear of a war growing as they prepared to peddle their less-valuable goods.
The foliage was cut back around the trail, leaving a wide open expanse of grass and scattered plants, making it easy to see ahead down the trail. A small group of buildings was littered on the trail ahead, nearly two hundred feet from where the pair was walking, bringing with it a feeling of energy they had somewhat lost as they traveled together overnight.
As the trail opened up more, there was something that caught Jasmine’s attention, causing the group to pause for a moment. “Does anyone else smell something good?” Jasmine sniffed aloud, her face perking up with a hint of glee as she stepped forward twice, intoxicated by a smell only she could see. “Something really good…” It had been some time since they had last stopped to eat. Everyone was feeling peckish, even Maeir.
Down the trail was a restaurant. The restaurant was merely a small stall, made out of a tiny building large enough to house the kitchen the food was cooked in. It was situated in a profitable point, marking the major split of the main trail, marking one way towards the Vartien Kingdom, the other towards the Highland District. Many travelers would stop along this break in the path to rest, relax, and check their gear before they continued onward. This small break allowed them some reprieve from their sore feet and fatigue.
Jasmine did not hesitate before she said, “Let’s stop and get something to eat. I’m starving.” She looked over the various travelers eating their food before her eyes fell on something in their cups. Her eyes sparkled as her mouth began to water slightly, the drool in her mouth threatening to spill over.
“That’s not very ladylike.” Clarence could not help but comment, his eyes full of horror staring at Jasmine.
“Some of us have had to fight, borrow, or steal for our next meal, unlike you, Clare.” She shrugged her shoulders, retrieving the coin purse hidden deep within her cloak as she used the nickname she created for the prince, to his immense chagrin, “Speaking of which, I’m going to order some food. Hold tight for a moment.”
Already having become familiar with their preferences, Jasmine was off, running towards the stall in a lazy fashion as she approached the counter, speaking to the man running the stall with a familiar pep in her words, most likely bartering for their next meal.
“Sometimes saying nothing is better than saying something.” Silas said, shaking his head lightly as he found an empty bench to sit on, prepared by the stall owner to seat customers. He let out a relieved sigh, happy to be off of his feet before he stared at Clarence, who stared at the other half of the bench with a pensive gaze. Silas could only stare at him and helplessly respond. “Don’t just stand there. You’ll draw attention to us. Sit down.”
Hearing Silas, Clarence sat down with a gentle plop. Ignoring the young prince, Silas reached into his satchel, his bonnet still wrapped around his head as he stared down into the bag, looking for something. Clarence found himself staring at the other man with a blank gaze, his mind wandering as he thought of Silas, his eyes falling on the soft, slim hands reaching into the satchel. Each of his moves was deliberate, almost delicate in a way Clarence could not help but admire.
After a short moment, Silas had an apple in his hand. The skin of the red object was glossy and clean, ripe and ready to be eaten. It made Clarence want to take a bite of something other than the fruit.
An older gentleman happened to be walking by with a walking stick in hand, a satchel attached to his back as he walked with a younger man, most likely his son. As he saw Clarence stare towards Silas, a smile lined his face, and he said aloud, tapping the ground in front of Clarence. “My, I used to look at my wife like that! What a sweet young couple you are.”
Silas stared up from his satchel, an apple in his hand. His expression was perplexed, as if wondering how to respond before the apple was removed from his hand, that person’s fingers brushing up against the soft skin of his palm as they said, “I’m a lucky man.” Carefully, he raised the apple to his lips and took a bite, leaving his mark on the sweet fruit.
The two gentlemen left, smiling and sending their well wishes to the pair as Silas stared at Clarence, his face as dark as the bottom of a pot. He refused to say anything, glancing at the apple that was not intended for the prince. As he stared at the bite in the flesh of the fruit, however, he lost his appetite.
Maeir had stepped to the side for a moment, her hand wrapped around the reins of the donkey as looked towards the little fool, its eyes wet with tears. Her expression was dark, staring at the apple held in Clarence’s right hand. “Give me the apple. I’ll feed him.” She did not want Clarence to enjoy anything of her son’s any longer. The more she was around him, the more she felt as if he were a young, naive casanova, trying to seduce her son. “It’s not like you need it anyway.” She hissed.
“Yes, ma’am.” Clarence mumbled, handing over the apple, suddenly shy.
With her hands full of steaming food, Jasmine popped herself back into the group, breaking the awkward atmosphere with the appearance of food. They began to discuss their destination in quiet voices, curious to hear more about the unknown district.
“The Highland District is part of the Highland Mountain Range, hence the uncreative name.” Jasmine spoke as she ate, munching on a steamed bun with an expression of contentment as she said, “It used to be a fairly deserted little mountain village until it started to get developed by the Zavior family twenty years ago. It’s still small, but definitely not like it was before.”
“I see.” Maeir said dryly, continuing to glare at the prince. Jasmine sighed at the growing tension, passing a steaming bun to Silas.
“Careful, it’s hot!” Jasmine cried as she held out the bun, the steam escaping from the small rag she wrapped it in. Silas nodded appreciatively, then, without a second thought, stuffed the steaming bun in his mouth. Jasmine and Clarence watched in awe as Silas chewed happily, his facial cheeks expanding with the food. Clarence steeled his face, resisting with all his might the urge to laugh. Jasmine did not have such constraint, offering Silas another bun as she laughed,
“You look like a chipmunk!”
“He certainly doesn’t eat like one though.” Maeir said, shaking her head with a smile as she scooped a bun from the basket.
…
In the Faelfier Kingdom, more activity had begun on Eva’s side, bringing with it a feeling of energy, knowing the end of the elven war could soon be approaching. With the change of power, there was a period of weakness in the Yursear Kingdom that would be fully exploited by the rebels, not allowing another royal from the current family to take over the throne again.
Neema and Saoirse sat together at a round table in the private cottage Eva had rented while she stayed in the Faelfier Kingdom, keeping a low profile as Silas, Maeir, and Clarence had made contact with her hired hand. Discussions were still being made daily, and the rebellion had all but stopped, keeping a high level of energy for the group.
“They should be arriving in the Highland District within the next few days, considering their traveling speed.” Saorise used a metallic object, drawing small scribbles on the tap spread out on the table, her eyes focused on the small points on the map.
Neema stared at the map, adding small additions with her pen. “And Countess Zavior won’t be there until she finishes her business near the capital.” Neema sighed, placing down her pen as she patted the cover of the grimoire sitting in her lap. “That injured man, I wonder who he is? The countess’s letter still hasn’t arrived yet.”
Thinking for a moment, Saoirse responded, “Wait, that’s right! We’ll be leaving for the Highland District as soon as Vaan and Yulia return. Holland’s already traveling there after all.”
Neema and Saoirse stared at each other, feeling the meeting between the group and Countess Zavior’s partner would be quite comical. Having met the lovely Angeline, she was quite the character, a truly perfect fit for the eclectic countess.
When the pair fell into silence, there was a knock at the door before a voice announced in an unmistakably low tone, “The falcon has flown to the forest. The owl has returned.”
There was no hesitation. Standing up, Saoirse walked to the door, looking out the small peephole before she opened it, her eyes bright as she smiled at the pair standing at the door. “It’s been a while. Hurry inside.”
Wearing his heavy steel armor, Vaan was the first to step inside, his armor covered by a heavy cape draped over his shoulders. Yulia was not far behind him, her tiny frame swallowed under the shadow of Vaan’s. Her hair fell into her face, obscured partly by her oversized hood as she walked inside the cabin, closing the door swiftly behind her as Saoirse locked the door with practiced movements.
“Neema, can you summon Lady Eva?” Vaan asked, removing the heavy armored gloves on his hands as he placed them on a small table to the side.
Neema nodded, “Of course. Give me a moment.”
Neema stepped into a back room, leaving the door open a crack. Within moments, Eva emerged from the room, Neema close behind her.
“I’m so glad you’re safe.” Eva wrapped her arms around Yulia’s thin figure, her smile warm as she eventually stepped back, checking Yulia for any healing injuries as she kept her hands on the thin woman’s shoulders. “How are you feeling, Vaan?”
The toughened soldier had the majority of his wounds heal, but his spirit was still somewhat sore, feeling as though he failed the group. “There should be no further setbacks, Lady Eva.” His stoic expression held strong, hiding the last traces of his embarrassment.
Eva’s tense expression relieved a bit. “And the gunpowder shipment?” Her eyes sharpened, the shipment of the utmost importance.
Vaan nodded, “It was safely delivered to our contact. They had already started to process it and prepare the weapons directly after our departure. They should be arriving in the Highland District before the other group arrives.”
Yulia adjusted her cloak, asking in a low voice, “When are we set to depart?” Her eyes were bright, full of a new found vigor having returned to safety.
“Very soon.” Smiling, Eva lowered the hood over her head, her blonde hair covered by a decorative hat she had placed on her head, tucking her hair away. “There is one more person I need to meet with before our departure. She should have arrived just now. Vaan, if you could, please.” Eva nodded towards the door.
Vaan silently responded by stepping forward, his hand resting heavily on the doorknob as he slowly pulled it open, exposing the person who stood outside the door, waiting for their turn to speak.
Standing in front of the door, donning the petitlely-styled Faelfierian armor was a familiar figure. Her hair now growing past her shoulders in straight black stands, her eyes full of determination as she stared forward, her gaze falling on Eva with a steadfast expression, full of determination.
“You said you wanted to meet with me, Eva.” The woman said, her voice firm. “What can I do to help?”
Staring at the woman in front of her, Eva could only smile in response. “Good of you to come, Adora.” She gestured with her hand, motioning towards the inside of the cabin. “We’re discussing our next mission. Come join us, there’s much to discuss.”
…
うわぁぁぁちょっと遅いわよ！Sorry, all, we’re a little late this week! Huge thanks to Hunny for her help editing this, as I was absolutely slammed this entire week with work. Had an unexpected situation wake me up at 1:30 am mid-week that left me to deal with it with my colleagues. Also left me in phone calls and meetings, absolutely lovely. I have another meeting Monday I’m dreading, so please ask my students to behave…. D:
I’ve been translating most of this week (I stress translate like a gremlin) and I received a lovely email from a fellow Mishima fan/ OL that brightened my week. Tさん, thank you for your kind words! >y< I’m working on two translation projects right now (small ones, I promise YMtK comes first!), but I’ll share those with you all once I finish them!
And all, we’ve had a huge bump in page views, comments, and chapter favorites (across all our sites), and we wanted to thank you all! It’s been a tough little bit, but seeing such positive numbers strengthens my resolve to work harder! Thank you. It really does make a difference. Stay safe, all, and have a great week~~!
Yes, gramps.
They ARE a could couple!