Chapter 57:
No Way Out
The quiet ambience of the hallway outside of the prince’s room was broken by the heavy, emotional footsteps to Alywin, whose face was flushed red as he blinked furiously, attempting to keep the last shred of his sanity in check. If not, he feared the facade he had so carefully crafted would crumble to bits under his very eyes, like a fragile glass mask broken with the tap of a fingernail. There was no chance of discussing anything further with Clarence. The young prince had built up an impenetrable wall, unbreakable to even those closest to him, even his best friend since childhood. His mental state had decayed to the point of insanity, and Alywin’s loyalty was still infallible as his infatuation kept him strung along, unbeknownst to even Alywin himself.
Alywin closed his eyes as he thought to himself, Would it be better for me to leave the palace before Malcolm comes? He pinched the space between his brows and sighed, But I can’t leave Clarence to face him alone like that. He wouldn’t stand a chance.
Walking forward, Alywin stepped out to turn the corner, but before he could finish rounding the corner his forehead collided hard with someone else’s, leaving a resounding “crack” to echo through the empty hall. Holding his forehead, Alywin took a step back and gritted his teeth, feeling a fresh wave of pain in his forehead strong enough to make his eyes water. Before he could gain his bearings, the irritated Alywin looked up and said with a low tone, “What do you think you’re doing?”
His eyes were met with a young boy’s, maybe only a few years younger than Alywin himself. The boy’s eyes were round and dark brown, much like his short hair, stuffed messily into a plain cap on his head. The pants and vest he wore were simple, much like the clothes worn by the servants working in the stables. This boy, however, did not reek of hay and horse droppings like the other stable hands.
Looking up at Alywin, the young boy held their forehead with a brazen frown on their face, as if admonishing Marquis Cyneric for his clumsy walking. “Excuse me.” The servant bowed stiffly, as if they had forgotten how to act in front of a proper noble.
Alywin’s anger was momentarily frozen as he stared at the figure in front of him. Curiously, he asked the stranger, “Who are you? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here.” Alywin’s blue eyes trailed over the figure’s clothes and said with a frown, “Besides that, if you are a stablehand, then there is no reason for you to be here. Leave before I alert the guards.”
The young figure looked a little nervous. Their brows twitched as the nervous frown on their face grew. The suspicious person put their hands up in surrender and bowed their head lightly, “Look, I promise I’m not here to cause trouble, I’m just trying to figure out-” Their speech became suddenly casual, and it was then that the person stuck their hands to their mouth and cursed under their breath, as if they had made a grave mistake. Alywin looked at the figure, his suspicions growing more as he reached for his dagger at his waist with a reach of his right hand. Just as he prepared to fight the random stranger, the stranger rubbed their forehead and said weakly.
“I wasn’t expecting to run into you first, Marquis Cyneric.”
Alywin began pulling out his blade as he began to shout for the guards, but the stranger almost knocked Alywin over in their frantic pursuit to cover his mouth, stopping him from shouting. Alywin fought fiercely to remove his blade from his belt, but the stranger’s body pressed so hard against Alywin’s that he could not maneuver his body enough to draw his sword.
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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Their meeting point was a small, dilapidated inn near the outskirts of town. The once luxurious stone-built inn had been neglected after exchanging hands with a new owner. Now, after many repairs forced by the local, frustrated residents, it was still in poor condition, often frequented by poor travelers and merchants escaping persecution. The building was small, barely two stories with only six rooms to stay in. As Silas approached the inn apprehensively, Holland patted his back with his hand and reassured him.
“Don’t take your mistakes to heart. Heaven knows I’ve made many myself, before and after meeting Eva.” He laughed to himself as the pair stood outside the inn, just before the thick wooden doorway. “That being said, don’t worry about Eva, Silas. We’re a team.” He slapped Silas on the back reassuringly, smiling as he said so.
Silas weakly nodded and smiled in response, “Thanks, Holland.” He was nervous before, but Holland’s words helped soothe his mind even a little.
Opening the door, the two entered the dilapidated inn and were greeted by the musty scent of wood and the voice of a young child sitting on a stool at the front of the reception table, smacking their tiny hands on the table with excited motions. Silas looked back and forth, looking for the receptionist with a small frown as Holland undauntingly approached the child and asked in a sweet voice, his armour clacking with his movements.
“Hey little buddy! Where’s your mom and dad?” He smiled wide, looking friendly.
The young boy at the desk shot Holland a heavy look through his hazel eyes, his freckled face scrunched up as his ginger hair scattered messily around his head like hay. Letting out a loud snort, the child responded unexpectedly with a nasty snarl, “Go away!” Even with his childish voice, his words carried some sting to them.
Silas, having approached Holland’s side, paused with wide eyes as Holland’s smile twitched. Holland laughed to himself as the young boy continued to hold his glare. Using his normal tone, he spoke softly but firmly to the agitated child behind the dusty, warped desk. “Hey, little buddy, that’s not nice-”
Holland’s voice was cut off by the sound of a pair of open palms slamming against the wooden desk. The child’s face reddened as they increased the volume of their voice, just short of a scream. “Fuck you!”
Having younger siblings, Silas was familiar with their tantrums and poor behaviors, but this situation was different. Silas looked at the boy with a puzzled expression, saying to Holland as he turned his head, “Let me try to talk to him, Holland.” Silas was used to working with his siblings, so talking to a young child like this was natural for him.
Holland snorted and motioned with his hands as if to say, “Be my guest.” Seeing that, Silas stepped forward and walked to the counter undaunted, smiling gently as he kneeled slightly to meet at the boy’s eye level. The young boy was short, even on the stool, so Silas spoke to the boy with an awkward bend of his back. “Can you please tell us where your father is?” Silas’s green eyes were bright under the light of the candles, and the little boy at the counter’s face dimmed a little, looking a little embarrassed as his small cheeks flushed slightly. He turned his gaze and puffed his cheeks, looking like a squirrel.
“No-” Just as the little boy began to respond, there was a loud thumping noise followed by the sounds of a gruff voice. Hearing the commotion outside, there was the sound of heavy footsteps, followed by a tall, bearded figure running into the room with his arms outstretched.
“Marek!” Grabbing the boy around the waist, the gruff old man stood up straight, holding the boy in front of him with a grim expression, the tiredness in his face deepening his wrinkles. After quietly admonishing the boy, he turned to Silas and Holland, frowning slightly as he apologized with his head bowed, holding the small child at his hip. “I apologize for my grandson’s behavior.” The older man then turned to his side, shaking his head. “My grandson knows how to behave, he’s just having a difficult time right now.”
Holland nodded his head in understanding, asking, “You must be Aleksy. I was sent by Sir Idfred.” Even to Silas, who had never heard the name Idfred, knew it was another one of the numerous aliases Eva held.
Holding Marek at his side, Aleksy’s eyes widened for a moment before his expression changed. Aleksy bent at the knees, reaching underneath the counter to grab something. As he was checking under the counter, Marek looked at Holland with a large, devilish grin on his face before he stuck out his tongue at him, laughing. Silas laughed as he looked at the troublesome child.
Once the old man stood up again, he had a small envelope in his hands and a key. Seeing the items, Holland walked forward and took the items. After, he made eye contact with Marek one more time before he pulled at the side of his mouth with his fingers and made a scary face, sticking out his tongue childishly in response to Marek’s attitude. He stepped back just as Marek sucked in a large breath, no doubt preparing a loud scream again. Holland grabbed Silas’s arm with one hand and waved with the materials in his other hand, smiling brightly as he said, “Thank you. We’ll be off now, Aleksy.”
Silas was dragged quickly up the stairs by Holland, who laughed as Marek’s heavy glare fixed on him from his grandfather’s arms. With the weight of Silas and Holland, the stairs creaked and groaned with each step, and the pair nimbly made their way up the stairs until they reached a solid wood door at the end of the long hallway. Holding the key in his hand, Holland tapped the wood of the door with his knuckle, not bothering to put his key in the keyhole. A strip of light was visible under the sliver of the door, already showing the room had long since been occupied.
The heavy door jiggled and opened slowly, exposing a muscular figure clad in heavy armor. Their short dark hair made them look intimidating, but just glancing at their face, Silas let out a small sigh of relief. It was Neema.
“Come inside.” Eva’s voice drifted in from the small room, beconing Holland and Silas inside before Neema carefully closed and locked the door. Stepping inside, Neema moved back towards Saoirse, who was standing nervously by the wall to the side of the small room. Eva was sitting in the rickety wooden chair with a cool expression on her face, her hair tied back in a low ponytail.
“Eva.” Holland said with a bow.
Eva waved her hand and maintained her chilly demeanor, her legs crossed as she looked towards Silas. “I see you’ve come crawling back.”
Before, Silas would have become angry at her remark, but now he found himself calmer than before. Though he was nervous, facing Eva again so directly, he released the tension in his hands and responded, “I have.” The tone of his voice was humble.
Neema and Saoirse stood next to each other, shooting each other a nervous look as Holland stepped to the side beside them, crossing his arms naturally. His armor clinked quietly as he rested his back against the wall, and he smiled towards Neema and Saoirse. Looking towards Silas, he thought to himself, This will be fine. Everything will work out.
…
Hello all ;; This is a short chapter, so I apologize as Hunny and I unfortunately ran out of time with some life going-ons that made us unable to fully add what we wanted to this week. BUT! Spice is still there with Aly. Big reveal will be next week when I have time to write as I’d like >A<
More to come. I’ve finally been breaking writers block, and my health is taking a slight decline due to stress, so I’m going a little slow. Hunny has been a huge help with that, so thank you greatly Hunny! Thank you all for your sweet comments and your support! I will be seeing you all soon ;D
