Huge thank you to Hunny for editing this!
Chapter 149:
Offender
The palace was in shambles as the attack continued by the rebels. Blood and bodies were strewn everywhere, many of them innocent workers who were unable to escape before the fight began. The royal family, however, was noticeably missed, and the rebels infiltrated the entire palace like worker ants, unaware of their hasty departure with their own group.
Holland and Beau did not run into many fighting men until they reached the interior of the palace, where the rebels had gathered in search of Yursinean bodies.
“There’s two more there!” A man yelled, causing Holland to laugh, lifting his sword as he ran to approach the crowd with excitement. Captain Laurent held back two steps, keeping himself out of the direct line of sight out of the rebels. Unfortunately for him, Holland drew the rebels with him as he ran around the hall, igniting the ire of the rebels. “Kill them!”
“Watch out!” Holland said with a laugh, dodging a man’s blade, leaving Beau to jump out of the way a step later, nearly having his head pierced by the offending rebel. They were on the main floor, attempting to find any trace of the person Holland was looking for with little luck in the wide-spread terror and bloodshed and were soon attacked again. A rebel threw another slice towards Beau, slashing in a cross pattern as he yelled aloud, cursing the captain.
Fortunately, Beau’s reflexes saved him again as he dodged the attack, punching the man in the face with his bare hands as he smashed the man into the ground, stomping on his neck with repeated, heavy blows. He did not lift his foot until the man under him stopped moving. The others fought for their lives, but between Beau and Holland, they were not a match and the rest of the men.
Another man, testing his luck with the weaponless captain, fell. “Gah!” Beau’s fighting style was clean, heavy, and analytical. His hits were carefully aimed in the moment, striking down his opponent at the neck before the man could hit him with his sword. The other rebels, unaware of Holland’s presence behind them, prepared to attack the other man before one was swiftly struck down, holding his throat as blood streamed down his neck in waves.
Holland’s fighting style was rapid, quick, and frantic. There was no telling if his strikes would be hard or soft, swift or dwelling. He enjoyed torturing those under his blade, promising a painful death to those that crossed him on the battlefield. Watching him fight alongside him, even Beau felt the tips of his fingers chill, relieved not to be on the other side of that blade.
“Another one over here!” Holland shouted, his eyes full of bloodthirst as he stared at the last of the two men, most likely human rebels from Eva’s side. After they raised their swords, they failed to remain allies and instead became the enemies of the strongest men in the palace. For that reason, they soon learned was dwelled in the palace, and fell to the men that were known as Charon and the Bloodhound.
The scent of death reeked through the palace once again, staining the stones red with blood and the trace of mottled flesh that had fallen to many blades. Staring at the place he once walked through daily became such a mess was almost disheartening for Beau, but knowing what would have happened to him had the palace not fallen was enough for him to lose any guilt he had felt.
“Finally, a sword.” Beau said with a relieved frown, sighing quietly as he lifted the long, thin sword from the hand of one of the corpses. It was not as heavy as his broadsword, but it would work temporarily, so long as he could protect himself.
Retrieving the weapon, Beau stared at Holland, expecting the other man to mention the sword, but Holland only silently continued forward, down the bloody hall, focused on finding anything relating to his little brother.
There were too many other enemies for the two to fight each other. Instead, they continued their surprisingly well-coordinated cooperation, appreciating the other’s presence for once in their lives. Oddly, they even watched out for each other, a far cry from their first meeting.
After fighting through the halls to the royal family’s quarters, there were few interruptions from the fighting soldiers. “It seems the numbers are thinning a bit.” Holland said with a nod of approval, his sword dripping with fresh blood as he trailed down the emptied halls like an angel of death. “I know some of Eva’s troops were here, but it seems like even they’ll be coming out with some losses after today.”
“Aren’t they your people?” Captain Laurent finally asked. The other man’s callous attitude caught him off guard. “Don’t you work for Eva?”
Holland laughed, “My people? You mean Eva’s soldiers.” He shook his head, his smile still dancing on his face as he corrected directly, “I help Eva when it’s convenient for me, but there’s no contract holding me to her. I respect her, but I won’t do her dirty work when I have my own shit to do.”
“I already know why you’re here.” Captain Laurent replied directly. “Then why did you drag me along with you?”
“I don’t know. Companionship?” The other man smiled, placing his sword in its sheath. “Maybe you’ll learn soon why I’ve kept you alive so long.”
Captain Laurent had no response to the man’s words, knowing he was nearly insane. But, part of him found Holland’s words intriguing, and he could not say he could leave without knowing why.
As the battles grew quiet, the rooms having already been raided for people, Beau led Holland down the final hall and towards the royal family’s meeting rooms. Having been quiet for some time, Holland felt the urge to open his mouth once again and annoy his unwilling companion. With a wicked smile, Holland poked his head over Beau’s shoulder in an irritating fashion as he said, “Hey, Beau.”
His armor was full of the scent of blood, causing Beau to crinkle his nose, recoiling slightly. “What?” Beau replied dryly, his lips pursed in irritation.
Holland, holding back a laugh, said in a serious tone. “I’m afraid of getting lost in these halls. Hold my hand.”
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.
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Once the hall fell quiet again, the two men both knew the only danger lingering around the palace halls now was the other man and their strange intentions. With the conversation falling to a lull, they quickly made it into Malcolm’s study. The room had been left untouched due to the heavily-locked door, but Holland, prepared with a small piece of metal, deftly unlocked the door and pushed it open, urging Beau to follow him inside.
“You work fast.” Beau said, nodding in approval.
Holland chuckled, wiggling his fingers in a lax fashion, “I’m good with my hands.”
Holding back the urge to roll his eyes, Beau closed the door and locked it behind them, making it so no other unwanted guests could enter the space. Holland had already waltzed over to the large, wooden desk at the back of the room. Various pages of documents, parchment, and other items littered the desk like trash, some ripped and unreadable due to spilled ink on the pages.
“With the palace in such a state, what do you think will happen?” Holland asked seriously, rifling through the desk with determination, his hands resting on a batch of papers neatly stacked on the left side of the desk.
Captain Laurent joined Beau at the desk, staring over the documents with a light gaze of surprise. “Malcolm will most likely send in the traveling knights to clean up this mess of his once he’s ready to return. He was too scared to stay here, most likely knowing he would be beheaded on the spot.” Beau said with certainty, walking around the faux royal’s office, reading through the neatly worded papers on the page with interest, the details unimportant to most. “Though, I’m surprised he left out documents like this. I thought he’d be smarter than this.”
“What type of documents?” Holland stepped closer to the desk, his eyes falling over the papers before they landed on a strange slip of paper, written in what appeared to be unintelligible scribbles. Beau stared at the paper with curiosity, unsure what stuck out to him about it. “Hm, this is interesting.”
“What’s that?” Beau raised a brow.
Holland let out an audible bark of laughter, clutching the small note in his hand with a wide smile. “That little fucker must have known we would be coming. Look at this.” He gestured the note towards Captain Laurent, but the other man had no idea what the note read, or what could be so interesting about the scribbles on the page. “This, it’s a message, a message from the one I was looking for.”
Captain Laurent paused, staring at the indistinguishable scrawl again. “What does it say?”
“It’s from my friend.” With a small laugh, Holland recited the message aloud with a smile, “I’ve already left, Asshole. Saving Alywin at brothel. Don’t die.”
Hearing the name Alywin, Beau paused and asked aloud, “You said Alywin, right? Marquis Alywin Cyneric?” He stared at the paper again, still unable to make out the letters. “What does your little brother or whatever have to do with him? Is he being held captive?”
“They’re childhood friends.” Holland answered, staring over the document with a laugh, squinting to read some of the smaller text. “His handwriting is still damn awful too.”
“That doesn’t explain why your friend was here.” Beau prodded. “Or what the duke’s son has to do with this either.”
Holland shrugged. “He had something to do, just as we do right now.”
“Regardless of the Cyneric’s involvement in this,” Captain Laurent stared over the documents with interest, reading over the information with familiarity. “With these documents and the current state of the palace, I wouldn’t be surprised if Malcolm decided to abandon it all together.” Beau finally said, staring at the desk of documents with a sneer. “But I don’t understand why he would abandon everything after putting so much work into overthrowing the royal family. Even his allies are crumbling at his feet as we speak.”
“I think we’ve just found out why.” Holding onto the slip of paper written in his native language, Holland let out a light chuckle, responding with a smile. “Well, do you want to know the answer? We’ll have to go somewhere else to find that out.”
“I do.” Having already traveled with Holland this long, the captain’s curiosity got the better of him as he asked, “But if I go with you, you must swear not to kill me.”
Holland shot Beau a beaming smile as he replied, “I won’t kill you. Not yet.”
“I didn’t mean that literally, you moronic mutt.” Captain Laurent hissed.
The sound of heavy bangs came from the front door of the office, starling Captain Laurent and Holland out of their conversation. There were screams and bangs, shaking the door with the force of the banging. “There’s more in here! Hurry up!” A Yursinean’s voice yelled, shaking the door handle with force.
“We need to get out of here.” Beau said, throwing the papers down in his hand as he stared towards Holland, who tucked the note into his inner armor as he looked around the room, searching for something. He raised his brow, watching as Holland used the tip of his sword to wedge open the rusty lock of the aged window.
“From the sounds of it, there are too many men to fight. This room is too small.” Gesturing towards the large, floor to ceiling window, Holland smiled. He pushed open the glass door with a laugh, stepping onto the window edge as he asked, “You willing to jump?”
…
Under Theresa’s brothel, in the hidden tunnels, the group of four escapees made good pace in the narrowed, dirt-ridden paths. No one was willing to complain, as their lives were on the line, and Malcolm’s approach was becoming a closer and closer threat. The consequences of their escape would cost their lives if they did not hurry.
“How long are these trails?” Charlotte asked as the group hurried down the dirt path. With the light of a lantern they found near the entrance, they lit the oil with a match and carried it with them, lighting up the dirt, debris, and stray bugs that had made their homes in the abandoned space.
“They’re about a half a mile long. At our current pace, we should be out in less than 5 minutes.” Alywin stared forward, the lantern’s light swaying left and right in a disordered fashion as their heavy footsteps filled the area, their breath the only sound echoing from the narrow walls. Charlotte and Philomena were growing restless the more they walked, feeling enclosed further and further, nearly causing them to be breathless in the tight space. They could only wonder how Basch, as tall as he was, could hold his head high as he did.
“O-once we escape, what will happen next?” Philomena asked directly, scared of what was to come after their escape. “A-are we criminals now?” Her eyes were full of unshed tears, her lips quivering at the very thought of being captured by the Yursinean knights. If anything, at this very moment, she wanted to return home to her family and never step foot in the kingdom again. But, knowing the danger her two friends were in, she refused to leave until she knew they were safe.
“We’ll escape this tunnel and figure that out on the other side.” Basch said with certainty, stepping forward from the end of the line. “There is no use worrying about your safety. I’ll keep you all safe.”
“Thank you, Basch.” Charlotte said, smiling lightly as the group stepped forward again, holding their anxiety close as the trail narrowed slightly.
They had already been walking for nearly five minutes, and it was apparent the end was near, but no one was sure when they would find the light at the end of the tunnel. Unfortunately, they could only hope to find the end in vain before a growing sound disrupted their pace.
Deep within the tunnel, there was a distant, repetitive echoing sound coming from down the path, where they had come. The closer they listened, the more familiar the sound became, until they could directly identify it. Basch spoke, his eyes narrowed as he identified the sound. “It’s footsteps.” The sound of running made their blood run cold, the continuous thudding steps growing closer and closer at a pace they could never outrun. “Girls, get behind me and start run-”
Their heartbeats quickened, and their breathing fell disordered as the group fell into panic. They began to run, led by Alywin, whose face was flushed red as he attempted to run as fast as he could, keeping the girls as close behind him as he could.
“Careful, this area is uneven-” Alywin began to say, before he was cut off by a shout.
Alywin abruptly stopped, turning to see Philomena, who had fallen to the ground. She gingerly touched her ankle with her hand as she whimpered as quietly as she could. Without a moment to waste, Basch helped Philomena stand, her face full of dirt and tears.
“Let’s get her up! Quickly!” Alywin reached a hand out to support a shaken Philomena as he stared back into the darkness.
“We have to hurry!” Charlotte asked, holding the wall with fear as she steadied herself, her expression full of worry and anger. Her words barely echoed in the harsh whisper they were spoken in.
“Philomena is hurt. She can’t keep running-” Alywin said, but Philomena interrupted.
“I can, see!” She stomped her foot twice, but before she could speak again, she let out a soft grunt, her left leg trembling. She could barely stand.
“Can you carry her?” Alywin asked Basch, his voice firmly resolute. Basch did not waste time to nod, he simply hoisted up the shaken princess, who whimpered in pain.
“We’re out of time.” Alywin whispered, his face dropping as footsteps approached, “Go. Now. I’ll distract him.” Alywin said, pushing the group forward as he glared at the growing darkness.
“Are you crazy?!” Charlotte whispered through clenched teeth.
“At this rate, one of us has to stay behind. Otherwise, he’ll capture us all.” Alywin pushed Basch’s shoulder harder this time, “I’m the one he wants. The rest of you, escape as fast as you can.” Alywin said with finality, his voice quiet as he moved forward, giving each of them a small glance before he faced forward. By the time his words fell quiet, the man had already begun to approach them, stopping nearly ten feet away from the small group, staring them down like a waiting hunter approaching a herd of deer.
In the dark, it was difficult to see the tall, dark-haired man, but his simple brown hood could not hide the exquisitely simple suit underneath, tailored with delicate brown fabric and gold buttons, his feet covered in shiny black dress shoes, now dulled with the dirt and dust from the tunnel. His smile was more visible than usual with his long hair tied behind his head in a small ponytail, his glasses chain hanging from either side of his gold-rimmed glasses.
The glasses could do nothing to hide the anger and joy swimming in his gaze. It only strengthened its power, causing everyone to fall still but Basch, who protected the girls behind him, his hand resting on his sword in a defensive fashion.
Alywin swallowed the dry spit lingering in his mouth with a bitter grimace as he spoke in a broken voice. “Malcolm.”
“I spent so long looking for you, Alywin. I should have expected you to have been here earlier.” Malcolm shook his head, his eyes narrowed in crescent-like shapes as he stared at the group further down the tunnel. His voice was shallow, nearly breathless, as if he had run this far into the tunnel, but from his lackadaisical appearance it made Alywin nearly doubt his own frantic speculations. “Did they force you to come with them? To escape the palace? This is not like you, Alywin. This is not like you at all.”
“You’re right, it’s not like me.” There was an odd pause between them before Alywin spoke, his lips were twisted into a tight, stiff smile that appeared far more unnatural than attractive. “The girls proposed a trip out of the palace, and I naively followed them thinking it would only be a short journey.”
Philomena’s face fell, convinced by Alywin’s hurtful words, but Charlotte watched Alywin’s figure grow tense the more he spoke, watching as fear filled his vision. Carefully, she lifted her hand and grasped Philomena’s hand tightly, an odd reassurance from Charlotte.
“I should have known.” Still smiling, Malcolm’s cold gaze fell over the girls, his smile still remaining. “Why did you believe them, Alywin? Did you hate being in the palace that much? Should I kill them?” His voice carried a chill, freezing the princesses still with a sense of despair, much like Alywin already had.
“They are not worth fighting, Malcolm. Leave them and-” Alywin sighed, softening his voice. “Take me away from here.”
As much as Philomena wanted to stay, to protect her darling Alywin, Basch had already seen through her movements and held Philomena up as he guided Charlotte further, moving them out of view of Malcolm, who had already opened his arms with a deranged smile, staring at Alywin with a gaze full of obsession and longing.
There was no way Malcolm would let them go, not unless they escaped now. It was time for him to step forward and protect the girls, as much as they had protected him as they escaped the palace together. With a wave of his hand, Alywin silently urged them to go, and soon Philomena, frozen in place, was carried away by Basch as Charlotte led the three deeper into the long tunnel, out of view.
There was no telling if there would be soldiers on the other side of the tunnel, but for now, all Alywin could do was focus on the man in front of him.
“You made the right choice, Alywin.” Malcolm spoke in a distant tone, his eyes full of smiles as he stared over Alywin’s shoulder towards the escaping people. “I will have the soldiers catch them later. For now, it’s enough to know that you are safe.”
Biting his lip, Alywin could not mutter another word, his fear threatening to spill out with it. Seeing his beloved shaking like a leaf in the wind, Malcolm was concerned. He stepped forward, lifting his two hands to hold the sides of Alywin’s arms, attempting to keep him steady as he said, “We’ve been here too long. Let’s return home, to the palace. Everything here will be dealt with accordingly, Alywin.” Malcolm’s chilling smile remained, his eyes fixed on Alywin’s pale face like a predator. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”
How could I ever feel protected by you, you demonic scoundrel! You psychotic royal scum! Alywin’s stomach dropped the more Malcolm spoke, and the bile trailing in his throat threatened to expel itself out of his very lips. I’d rather you die here and now then take me back to that palace!
“There has been a small problem at the palace, so we will take a vacation in the countryside before we can fully return to the palace. I’ve already spoken to your father. The changing leaves in the north are lovely this time of year, after all.” Speaking as though he were mentioning a trivial problem, Malcolm completely blew away any concerns of the rebel attack on the palace. “
Standing in place, Alywin could not even bring himself to lift his arms to hug the other man. Instead, seeing the fear on Alywin’s face, Malcolm felt pleased with himself, knowing the man under him was right back in his arms, under his control once again. “It’s okay, darling. No one will ever hurt you again.” He lifted his arms, brushing aside a curl on Alywin’s face, staring at the reddened rims of his eyes as he pulled the man into a tight hug. “You’re safe now.”
Alywin’s eyes rested just over Malcolm’s shoulder, full of tears. The tips of his fingers trembled at his sides, and his body began to shiver, recalling the days of the past he had spent in horror with Malcolm. Dread threatened to swallow him alive at that very moment.
I can’t escape. I’ll never be able to leave him again. Oh, dear God, please kill me. I’d rather die than be with him again! Alywin bit his bottom lip until it threatened to bleed, causing him to come to his senses from pain. As his teeth’s grip loosened on his lip, his heavily blurred vision lightened, and in the darkness, he caught sight of something moving only steps away from them.
Behind Malcolm, lingering in the darkness, was a tall figure holding a decorative silver dagger. Their eyes gleamed with a dangerous amber tint as they stared at the man hugging Alywin with fury. Alywin could only stare forward at the hidden man, the tears in his eyes silently trailing down his face as a wave of relief washed over him, making him cry silently in the predatory embrace of Malcolm.
Thank you, thank you… Alywin thought, his thoughts echoing in his empty mind like a record.
His true hero was finally here.
…
Goodness gracious, I am late 🙁 Apologies for that! It’s Labor Day in the states right now, so it’s busy and I’ve been working and streaming a lot now that I have some time off work 😀 Y’all can see my past two streams on my twitch at twitch.com/catmasseuse >y< Tbh the chapter was late because of that ;u; I’m also working on some video stuff for my youtube, so other things will be posted too, including a possible chapter upload for Misted Winds… 🙂
I was told too Holland sounds like he’s mega flirting with Beau, and my friends and I faux flirt all the time (we are a circle jerk of wholesomeness), so I maybe am blind. I’m also ace, so maybe my blinders are mega on right about now?? Bah. More Silence fanship fodder will be incoming next week as well. Queen Racliffe’s reaction will be priceless >u<
Thank you all for your sweet comments, follows, and likes on the chapter! I love watching our novel grow, and it wouldn’t be possible without all your support. Have a lovely week, all! Hopefully we aren’t late for next week’s upload… (I had to rewrite this one. It was messy….)
I hope it leaves her gagging! lol