Long chapter incoming 
And minor warning for excessive fecal matter verbiage.
Chapter 141:
Last Efforts before Betrayal
With the guards combing through the town, Jasmine and Beau used the cover of the underground sewage passages to escape town. Only Beau’s hands were tied, and he walked in front of Jasmine like a leading dog. Their boots were covered in a coarse fabric, burlap, allowing them to protect their shoes as much as they could from the smell and the liquid feces lying rampant around their feet.
Walking through the narrow, coarsely dug path underneath, Jasmine had one hand lifted to plug her nose from the smell, the other on her knife to keep an eye on the man in front of her. The air was humid, full of a smell so overpowering Jasmine felt as if the ends of her hair were curling, making her throat and nose burn raw.
“Hey, bloodhound.” Jasmine said with a nasty grimace, feeling as though she stepped on something solid. “Why aren’t you plugging your nose? Isn’t your sense of smell very sensitive?”
Beau, not interested in looking back, continued to walk steadily forward. “Some of us breathe out of our mouths to avoid the odor. You should try it.”
I can’t wait to kill this smart ass. Jasmine huffed, her eyes watering from the smell. As much as she wanted to wipe her eyes, she was afraid some of the sludge on the wall had traveled to her gloves, and she had no interest in touching her face with that in mind.
Deep in thought, Jasmine walked behind Beau until the man abruptly stopped, causing Jasmine to stop behind him with a heavy thud. Grasping her knife even tighter, Jasmine yelled with irritation. “What do you think you’re doing? Huh?”
Just as Jasmine was about to shove the man against the wall in retaliation, a sudden clattering sound came from above, and a trail of excrement fell from the small hole where Jasmine had nearly been standing before, falling to the ground with an audible splat, making the pair nearly jump back a step in disgust. “I heard it coming before I smelled it, for the record.” Beau said with a frown, turning back forward to continue walking.
He stepped forward, leaving Jasmine to stand still for a moment as she finally yelled, noticing she was being left behind. “You’re supposed to be a prisoner! Slow down, asshole!”The man was mildly considerate at least, she could give him that, but not considerate enough to allow his warden to keep up with him.
The underground passages were full of sludge and dirty water, but it was not difficult to wade through the ankle-deep water. After one hour, the pair had broken through the pipes and had found an exit. Beau jumped down first, landing on a clean patch of grass on his two feet, while Jasmine landed next to him, angrily wiping her shoes on the ground after she threw off the burlap shoe covers, leaving them to soak in the sewage near the grass patch.
“We wouldn’t have had to go through the sewers if it weren’t for you.” Jasmine said with some spite, hissing at Beau like an angry goose. “Why are there so many damn guards here? They’re like flies, I swear.”
“It’s because they’re looking for Duke Cyneric and myself.” Beau stared at Jasmine wordlessly, staring at her hooded head without much thought. “For the record, if you asked, I would have taken us to the old escape trails out of the city. Going through the sewers was your idea.”
Jasmine threw her hands up in the air, nearly ready to strangle the man if he weren’t useful. “You know what, fine. Fine. Follow me. We need to get back to the camp.” She turned on her heel and began to walk, throwing a heavy stare over her shoulder at Beau. “You’d better not try to run.”
“I said I would cooperate. I mean what I said.” Beau stated directly, following behind. As he trailed behind, he thought to himself. Being killed by Malcolm and getting killed by the rebels? What difference does it make. At least I can attempt to save myself and take down that asshole in the capital with me. The walk to the camp was not far, but for Beau, it felt like a death march.
…
Meanwhile, after their arrival at the camp, chaos ensued.
“Jasmine, who the fuck is this?” Holland shouted, his frame still somewhat-fragile from the torture he had endured at the palace. He was sitting in a wooden chair, redressing his wounds when his eyes laid on Beau. His braided hair was now unbraided, curly and shapely, standing in a fashion far different than most Yursinean hair types. It was the first time Beau had seen such hair.
Sitting near Beau like that, the pair looked nearly as distressed as each other, like a pair of similarly-disheveled, long-lost brothers. While Holland rested on the chair, wrapped in bandages, Beau had a faint scent of fecal matter tinging his clothes, causing Holland to comically scoot farther to the right, away from the stinky man.
“It’s the man himself, Captain Beau Laurent.” Jasmine stared at Holland, then at Beau, letting out a small chuckle as if she had noticed something funny before she spoke seriously. “Between the Yursear Palace and us, he chose us.”
Holland nearly stood abruptly, wanting to grab the captain’s collar and curse him out, but his injuries made him sit again, unable to stand without assistance. From his spot on the chair, he shot daggers at Beau, wishing he could tear the flesh from the other man’s bones piece by piece. “Once I’ve healed enough, I’ll take care of him myself, so don’t try to kill him yet, Jasmine.”
“He’s got valuable information about the palace. You try to kill him and I’ll make you regret it, you cripple.” Jasmine shot a glare to Beau, his coarse hands still tied with a rope, stained with humidity and questionable liquid. “Neema, do you have something a bit sturdier to lock him in place? I don’t trust him not to try anything.”
“Hold on just a-” Saoirse, having entered the space from a room to the side, spoke first,“Oh, no! For the love of the Gods, someone spray him down, please!” Saoirse said with her nose plugged, her nose nearly collapsing at the scent radiating from Beau and Jasmine. “Jasmine, you too! Go outside, now!”
“There’s a well outside, and I’ll put a fresh pair of clothes out there for you and some soap.” Neema put her hand on her sister’s shoulder, her expression dark as she attempted to ignore the smell. “We can have Vaan help Beau clean up and get a change of clothes then lock him back up. We’ll burn what you wore in the sewers.”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“Cyrbieafis cba!” Ajrwlcf tlrrfv jibev, “Gb sbe gfjiis agera tlw ab kjrt tlwrfio jcv cba gec jkjs? Bffq tlw ralcxs! Lf’v gfqfi jcsatlcu lc j akb wlif gjvler!”
“P kbc’a vb jcsatlcu. Tbe tjnf ws kbgv.” Dfje rabbv, rajglcu ja Njjc, ktb tjv jc fzqgfrrlbc bo rabcf. Ktf akb wfc tjv obeuta qgfnlberis, yea atfs gfrqfmafv fjmt batfg’r rxlii jcv xclutais tbcbg. Dfje xcfk tf mbeiv agera atf batfg wjc ab agfja tlw ojlgis jr j qglrbcfg, ecilxf Ajrwlcf, ktb rmgfjwfv boafc jybea jcsatlcu, jcv Lbiijcv, ktb kjcafv tlr tfjv pera jr yjvis jr atf Tegrlcfjc Ujijmf.
“Jasmine, go first. I’ll take him out once you’re done.” In a rare instance, Vaan spoke his thoughts, startling those in the room.
Neema smiled towards Vaan, appreciating his input as she pushed a bar of soap into Jasmine’s hands. “Here, hurry up and wash. I’ll bring your clothes out with me.” Saoirse, unable to tolerate the smell on Beau, followed her sister to help Jasmine with her clothes.
Once the girls left, the room fell awkwardly quiet. Sitting in silence, watched by Holland and Vaan like a cretin, Beau felt uncomfortable enough to ignore the rotting scent and closed his eyes, pretending to sleep.
“Fucking hell.” Holland said with a heavy frown, using the fabric tunic he wore to cover his nose, appearing almost comical as the three men waited, refusing to move where they had been placed.
…
Inside Alywin’s empty room, a figure stood in front of the closed door, frozen in place. The collar of their dress shirt had been unbuttoned at the neck, exposing the tall man’s shapely neck and the shimmering gold glasses chain dangling at the sides of his chin. Without his glasses covering his face, the man’s exhaustion hung heavy on his face. The dark circles under his eyes cut into his handsome face, and his golden eyes were limp, hazy with sleepless nights.
Ever since Alywin’s sudden disappearance, Malcolm found himself sitting on the marquis’s bed with a blank stare, his palm resting in the faint indent where Alywin often laid in the bed. His eyes were colorless, holding no emotions, as if he were void of a soul. Though, a flurry of thoughts filled his devilish head, swimming around with no thought of ending.
Alywin left you yet again.
He won’t come back for you.
Why don’t you just find him? Lock him up and never let him leave your side again?
How sweet it would be, chained around the neck, looking only at you?
If he found Alywin again, he knew exactly what would happen. Those two harlots, they slowly befriended his beloved, filling his pretty little head with lies about him, about his true rein of the palace. They swept Alywin away, promising him things they could never provide like he could. Ah, if only I could crush their skulls the moment I saw them. Malcolm thought, his eyes full of insanity, trembling like his hands resting on the bed. They’re trying to tempt him, take him away from me. That will never happen. I will find Alywin, because he is mine.
Gently, as if he did not want to disturb even a wrinkle in the bed, Malcolm leaned forward, his chest laying against the bed in a prone position. His neck was craned back slightly as he slowed his movements, savoring the moment as he lowered his head and placed his nose on the pillow where Alywin’s head had once laid. With quiet breaths, he liberally inhaled the once-rich scent as if it were the last time he would smell such a fragrance.
The more he inhaled, the more his insanity began to fade, his eyes finally gaining some clarity as he slowly lifted himself off of the bed, adjusting his glasses as he sat up. The black gloves he wore on his hands were wrinkled, but the closer he looked at his right hand, he found a short, curly strand of blonde hair.
Carefully, Malcolm pinched the golden hair off of his glove and twirled it in between his fingers, kissing the tip of the hair as he thought to himself. What about a golden chain? It would match your beautiful blonde hair, my dear Alywin. The mania had subsided, but the nature of his thoughts were full of evil, dripping with harm.
The servants in the palace were unaware of the duke’s thoughts, thinking the man was worried for his missing acquaintances, having been kidnapped by a rogue group of mercenaries. There was little hope they would be found alive by now. It had already been a week, and Princess Charlotte’s items had already mostly been moved for her journey, even Princess Philomena’s, in their carriage.
It appeared as though they had been planning to leave all along, and it infuriated Malcolm to no end. They planned to leave the palace. They planned to leave me here, without Alywin by my side. Those damn wenches will die the moment I lay eyes on them. Staring at the hair in his fingers, Malcolm became calm, but his anger still surgered in his heart, threatening to spill out.
After passing another moment in the empty room, the hair he had collected was carefully tucked away in his personal handkerchief, and Malcolm stood up, his smile nearly dripping with blood as he walked to the door. He pushed the empty room’s door open with both hands, his dull eyes landing on the solitary maid standing by the door, her back bent submissively, not daring to look the man in the eyes.
“Summon Queen Racliffe. I would like to have tea with her.” Malcolm said with a smile, his eyes carrying no such joy.
“Y-yes, your highness!” The maid hurriedly nodded again, keeping her eyes low as she stared at the duke’s shoes. Once the man turned away, she hurried down the hall herself, afraid of even staring in the direction of the devilish man that had left Alywin’s guest room.
While Malcolm went to preserve the piece of hair he had found, adding it to his collection of oddities of his beloved, Queen Racliffe was taken out of solitude within her wing of the palace. Only two of her maids remained to help her, and they only dared to dress her with the bare minimum of adornments.
It was only what was allowed by Malcolm after his hostile takeover of the palace.
“You two, stay here. I will meet with the Duke personally.” Queen Racliffe said, waving her hand as the two young women that had come to treat her well were made to stay. If they were to go, only one wrong word could set off the young Duke Godfreed. Having dealt with the king’s less than sane family in the past, she was far too familiar how to avoid such pitfalls.
Once she stood in front of the door to the tea room, she felt the pit in her stomach grow as the knights outside announced her presence, allowing her entry.
Inside the infamous tea room, the previous Yursinean queen sat with her dress train wrapped in her arm, her hair styled basically, not with nearly the care as it had when she ruled over the palace. Even her dress, the train intricately decorated, was simple, the train only basically embroidered, like a slap in the face to the true royal family.
The conversation between the two was brief, and nothing much was to be said between them. But, more than anything, Malcolm enjoyed watching Clarence’s family’s downfall, and their spiral into despair. It brought him joy, taunting his aunt like this.
“It seems you have had better days, Aunt Racliffe.” Malcolm said with a malicious sneer. “How are my dear cousins? I’m sure they’re much better than Clarence is now.”
“You dare touch my children, and you will encounter a fate far worse than death, Malcolm.” Queen Racliffe said with venom, her eyes staring up at Malcolm with a stare weighted in lead.
Julian was turning nine this year, Eloise seven. They were far younger than Clarence, but they were in a far more unlucky situation than their older brother. They were the Yursinean King’s true descendants, while Clarence was the child of an affair between an elf and the queen. If his true heritage was exposed, his royal reign would end before it could begin. Julian and Eloise, however, were far more likely to be killed by Malcolm before they could surpass their next birthday.
“What were their names again? Julian and Eloise?” Malcolm’s lips twisted like a crow’s beak, his peals of laughter filling the spacious room. “Clarence has already long since abandoned his family to save himself. What makes you believe he will come back for you three? Sacrificing his own safety just to come back and claim what isn’t his? Laughable.”
The queen could only sit in silence, gritting her teeth in response to Malcolm’s words. “Mark my words, Malcolm. You will come to regret the day you ever stepped foot in this palace.” The power imbalance had only grown since his arrival, and soon, she would have no footing left to stand on before she and her children were slaughtered in the name of the throne.
“My, you’re hilarious!” Starting at the queen’s display, Malcolm laughed again, tears welling in the corners of his eyes as he stood up from the chair, the tea cup in front of him untouched. “Once all the missing pieces are gathered in the palace again, your fate will be sealed, my dear aunt. I hope you’re anticipating that day as much as I am.”
Once the doors to the room fell shut, Queen Racliffe bathed in the coming silence with only her raging thoughts in her mind. After all, she could only pray for Clarence’s safety as she sat in the abandoned room, tears welling in her aging eyes as she stared down at her lap. The thought of losing any of her children was nearly too much to bear. However, staring at her lap, she felt a growing urge to harm the king’s nephew, the bastard duke that had torn her family apart.
If Clarence is able to return here alive, we’ll kill that damn Malcolm together. She had already lost her husband. Should could not bear to lose another person close to her.
…
Southeast of the palace, having made record time traveling in their carriage, Alywin guided the group to the only person he knew would help them without a fight. The entry into town was guaranteed by a batch of counterfeit citizenship tokens, made by Theo, who happened to find the materials to make them on the road. Watching him make the tokens with such skill, Charlotte and Philomena felt some comfort, knowing they were in safe hands, even if it were the hands of a thief.
Using their fake names and disguises, they were easily granted entry into town, preparing to meet Theresa as fast as they could. Everyone in the carriage fell silent upon entry, including Theo, who was nursing his injuries by helping steer the carriage. Wearing an oversized jacket and using the power of the mana stone, Theo made himself appear more Yursinean, even to the point of lightening his skin two tones to avoid harassment and attention, considering the girls in the carriage.
“Alywin, this can’t be right.” Charlotte, staring at the lively-decorated building with green pillars rose her brow, feeling a sinking sensation in her gut. “This isn’t a hotel, this is-”
“Hm?” Philomena looked over Charlotte’s stiff shoulder with an interested expression. “What’s this? And what are those green pillars?”
Basch stared forward, unfazed by what Philomena said, but Charlotte found her face growing redder, unable to explain to the poor, innocent Philomena the building they were about to enter.
“Philomena, it’s a brothel.” Theo said bluntly, staring over his shoulder into the carriage, which had already come to a slow stop to the side of the building.
“My views of you were beginning to change, Marquis Cyneric. Is this a place you would consider ‘safe’?” Charlotte asked with some sarcasm, having been under the impression that they were going to be traveling to some kind of hotel or hostel, a place where Alywin knew the owner. For princesses to enter a brothel? It was blasphemy.
“Trust me. This is far safer than anywhere we could go.” Alywin responded with a sarcastic smile.
Basch motioned for the girls to step out of the carriage, their disguises in place as they stepped onto the ground, appearing as baronesses traveling into the city for a short shopping trip. Their intentions, however, were far more serious, and Basch allowed Theo to take the carriage to the stables as Alywin led the girls inside, through the curtained doors to the inside of Theresa’s.
“My, my! What an assortment of guests we have today!” A tall woman spoke first, stepping forward into a curtsy as she stared at the guests, her eyes shrouded by her heavy mascara. “Don’t fret now. We accept all kinds of guests, even young ladies.”
Philomena’s eyes could not stop wandering around as she stood next to Charlotte, holding the other girl’s arm as her mouth hung open slightly, enamored by the array of beautiful women in colorful dresses in styles she had never seen before. Charlotte’s gaze was rooted forward, her face red as a tomato.
Alywin, still wearing his disguise, stepped forward in front and said with a smile. “Barnette, please tell Theresa I’m here to see her.” His voice was the same as usual, and with the wink of his right eye, it was not hard to identify the man they all considered a little brother.
The girls, having just opened for the day, were still standing around the front, waving and catcalling customers. When they heard Alywin’s voice, they all stopped momentarily before a group occupied the windows, keeping the front covered as the rest ran to surround Alywin with tears in their eyes, having missed their younger brother.
He was surrounded in an instant, varying hugs and kisses assaulting him in a matter of seconds.
“Hurry inside, Theresa’s been waiting for you!”
“My, you brought friends! They’re so cute, just like you!”
“Give me a hug before you go! I didn’t get one last time!”
Surrounded by the large group of perfumed women in low-cut tops, Charlotte and Philomena were at a loss and were pushed behind Basch, who kept them at some distance from the excited group of girls. Charlotte’s eyes were fixed on Alywin’s figure disappearing in the crowd, her eyes filled with astonishment at the informal, warm atmosphere. Philomena, feeling the similar sentiments as Charlotte, wanted to join the group of women and hug Alywin as well, the atmosphere affecting her mood.
Theo, however, suffered the brunt of the girls’ abuse as he stepped forward. He gently moved Alywin behind him in a protective gesture as he said, “We’ll say hi later. Right now, we need to see Theresa.”
“Theo, is that you?”
“It’s been too long! Give us a hug!”
Even with the transformation gem, Theo was unable to escape the clawed clutches of Theresa’s girls, forcing him back as Alywin was hugged, snuggled, and kissed like a conveyor belt, and Charlotte and Philomena were complimented and praised as they were shoved behind Basch from the excited bunch once again. Theo’s face fell as he began to yell at the women, his words unheard under the array of giggles and warm laughter.
Using Theo as bait, the group of four escaped the flurry of women and entered the main hallway to the stairwell. Alywin led the group up the stairs with little fanfare, attempting to hurry away before any customers entered, particularly anyone too nosy to keep their mouths shut. Hurrying along, Alywin did not have to knock on Theresa’s door, as it already stood open, her figure standing in the doorway like a stone figure at the end of the hallway.
“Alywin, come inside. There’s much we need to discuss.” Inside the doorway stood the prim and proper Theresa, her hair tied back in its tight bun as always. The dress she wore was a plain, stiff dark purple dress, but she appeared thinner under the dress than she had before, causing Alywin some concern. “Introduce your group to me. I’m curious to know who saved you from the palace.”
He turned around and said to the group. “This is Theresa. She’s-” Alywin paused, staring at the waiting woman with a smile as he said, “She raised me. Theresa, these two are the princesses from the Bethell Kingdom and Maarit Country, Princess Charlotte Dupont and Princess Philomena Lambros. Basch is Princess Charlotte’s knight.”
“Welcome to my establishment. You are safe here.” Theresa stared through the small glasses on the tip of her nose as she stared at the two women without so much as a curtsy, a small sigh escaping her lips before she said, “Alywin, you always manage to find yourself in trouble, don’t you?” There was no time for formalities.
As everyone entered Theresa’s spacious office, they were gestured to sit on the various pieces of furniture placed around the room, making them feel as if they were in a formal sitting room rather than a brothel. “We spoke briefly by letter, but I would like to know the full extent of what’s going on between you and the palace. That bastard Malcolm has sent out notices for your capture, it’s-”
Theresa’s words abruptly stopped as the door to the room was opened. Just in the doorway was Theo, wiping his natural face with a handkerchief to remove some of the kiss stains from the girls. His expression was full of disgust as he walked in the room as if it were natural. Staring up, he met eyes with Theresa and said, “Theresa, it’s been a while.”
“Theo?” Staring at the young man in the doorway, Theresa’s still expression cracked as she smiled weakly, staring at the young man she had cared for, just like Alywin. “I’m relieved you are all safe. I can only imagine what the journey here was like.”
“Alywin wore a dress. You should have seen him, he was quite pre-” As Theo chuckled, reminiscing about the maid uniform as he moved to sit next to Alywin. Alywin heavily stomped on his toes, causing Theo to yelp as he held his foot, smiling with a goofy grin towards Alywin, who looked less than pleased on the love seat next to him.
“Now then, let’s get back to the subject at hand-” Theresa began, the barrage of questions staring on a heavy note, getting to the root of the condition of the palace. “What happened at the palace?”
…
The more I write, the more I realize my diction is an absolute clusterfuck 😀 But, I had a lot of fun on this chapter, even though I’m not terribly partial to poop humor (unlike my man Mozart, lol). Malcolm sniffing the pillow brought horror flashbacks to the time I was a camp counselor and had a kid try to take over my bed of hello kitty blankets, thinking it was another kid’s…. =u=;
I have had YMtK’s ending in mind for around 4-5 years now, but seeing as we’re getting so close, some things have changed. Still working out how I want the epilogue to go/ extras. There are so many characters, it makes it hard to focus at times, but I still love big casts, so that’s my fault. Clarence needs more time to redeem himself before he can be his romantic yandere self, so that will come in due time.
Managed to get shooting, numb pains in my left wrist, so I’m back on light duty. I’ve been working ahead, so we should be okay 😀 Appreciating all the lovely notes and messages, even if I don’t respond right away ;; I’ll be swinging by soon, so thank you very much, all! See you all next week >y<♥♥♥
Edit: Please let me know if you see any errors, as I switched keyboards and it’s lagging slightly >~>
That poor family has so many difficulties.
Hope it works out.