LX
There weren't that many spare rooms in the duke's villa. Ultimately, they had to split into two groups of threes. Alex, James and Fletcher were in one room; and Riley, Thomas and Yufus were in the other. Alex felt some relief over it, knowing he could use Fletcher as a shield.
Alex liked James but James was deeply unserious and Alex wouldn't be able to withstand his provocative nature at the moment, not under this much stress. Even if James did try something, Fletcher was an unthreatening presence, so Alex wouldn't feel so self-conscious.
Their room was no more than a bed and a sofa. But it would do.
"You two take the bed, I'll sleep over here," Alex said, readying himself for an argument.
"No, I'll take the sofa," James protested. It surprised Alex, who thought James would argue for a different reason. "You take the bed."
James always found new ways to be unpredictable. Alex had fully expected him to try to kick Fletcher onto the sofa. Not only that, but he was giving Alex a lot of physical space, standing a few paces away. Nothing about him was playful right then.
"No," Alex insisted. "This isn't negotiable."
"You're already thirty-one. You need to take care of your back."
Alex did have a minor backache from rough sleeping, which made the remark heavier than it should've been. "Fuck you, James. Sleep on the sofa if you want, but I'll sleep on the floor."
"Now, you're just being dramatic."
"Hey, I can take the sofa," Fletcher suggested. "It's not that big of a deal. You two can take the bed."
The answer to that was a collective; "no".
They left the decision to Fletcher, who clearly didn't want to get involved. After some pushing, he relented, defeated, and chose James. It was Alex's victory. Only then did James accept the arrangement, not speaking another word about it.
They'd been given enough time to wash up, refreshing themselves and scrubbing away the filth from their short journey. Alex was careful not to let it relax him too much. He had to remain sharp.
"It's a shame Fletcher can't speak the royal language," James was saying as they waited around. He had a habit of talking to Eris, so sometimes it was difficult to know what comments were meant for them.
Fletcher didn't seem nearly as unnecessarily analytical of James' intentions as Alex and easily responded, uncaring if he was the intended recipient.
"I need permission to learn it from the Royal Council," he said, writing in his notebook as he lounged on the bed. "I'd have to be a junior advisor at most for that."
"And do you feel more worldly yet?" James asked.
Fletcher grinned. "I feel very worldly, thank you."
"I was just thinking that we need to be careful about what we say here... I feel nervous," he admitted. "Like I'm being spied on."
Alex felt a similar way. But he couldn't hold back a different question any longer.
"What did you do with the other part of the documents?"
James regarded him carefully. Alex hated being on the receiving end of that decisive gaze, where James was judging him based on some criteria in his mind— deciding Alex's worth, his trustworthiness.
He'd tried not to take it too personally before since James was naturally paranoid anyway.
But now that they were closer, he'd started to find it insulting.
"Hid them," James said, coming to a decision. "Never know what could happen to the rest of it."
As a test, Alex was about to ask James to tell him where, but then a knock sounded at the door.
"His Highness, Duke Straton, has invited you for lunch," a muffled female voice said.
Alex stood and opened the door a crack, his fingers itching from their emptiness. He was beginning to understand what appealed James to keep a dozen knives around his body. Alex would've done the same except he couldn't conceal them as easily as James, whose hands and arm were constantly wrapped.
"We'll follow you," Alex said politely, smiling. He noticed the other three standing stiffly nearby, waiting for them.
As they walked, Fletcher slowly came beside Alex.
"What's the plan?" he whispered, not quiet enough to hide their discussion, but enough that it couldn't be understood. "What's the story?"
Alex kept his face neutral, his mind turning.
"We'll follow Riley's lead," he decided. "Just agree with whatever Riley says. I'll fill in any gaps if I need to."
Fletcher nodded, his brows slightly lowered in determination. Fletcher was gaining more confidence with each day. His encounter with Prince Maurice had changed him.
The dining room was just as grand and artistic as the hall. Although the walls were bare, stone pillars held up a curved painted ceiling. It depicted night and day, man and woman, Moira and Adeia, the duality of mankind and its endless cycle. It was beautiful.
"Stunning, isn't it?" Duke Straton said.
His accent was melodic, flowing up and down, softly. He was at the head of the table, leaning back into his chair. The plates were empty, the food not yet served. He'd been waiting for them.
"Very," Alex easily agreed, allowing the maid to usher him to a chair next to the duke. Riley sat opposite. The others sat beside them and James chose a seat, not next to Alex, but the one furthest away, opposite Yufus.
The duke's eyes were soft and fond. "My wife and her small army of painters did it all. I bought this villa for her."
"Will Her Grace be joining us? I'd love to pass on my compliments."
The duke's good cheer wobbled, although his smile was steady. "She's in Corbella. But, I'll be sure to tell her."
Alex made brief eye contact with Riley, but Riley seemed uncertain, too.
"Is Mererid here?" Riley asked.
The duke perked up again. "She is, actually. She's with her friends this afternoon so you won't see her until this evening. I'm sure she'll be pleased to see you."
"I'd hope so," Riley joked.
"Lowri mentioned she hasn't seen you for a while, either."
Riley's smile became frosty. "Did she, now?" There was a beat of silence. "I suppose it has a few months."
"She said it's been a year."
Something awkward shifted past them, sinking unavoidably into the conversation. There was some subtext that Alex wasn't privy to.
"I'll write to her," Riley promised.
The duke tapped his fingers against the countertop in thought. He stopped, then crossed his arms. "It wasn't my decision. But it already happened, so it's best to make peace with it sooner rather than later. I say the same thing to her."
Alex did recall Riley mentioning that his wife was his cousin and that they lived very separate lives. Lowri might have been that very woman. Alex made sure he appeared uninterested.
"Let me introduce you," Riley said, changing the subject with a sudden surge of energy.
The duke clapped his hands together, smiling. "Right, please do! It's always nice to see some new faces."
"You know Lord Alexander, Duke Chamberlain's son," Riley started, gesturing. "Then, this is Sir Thomas, a colleague. Fletcher Azeus, the scholar, and his two bodyguards, Yufus and James."
"It's a pleasure. Fletcher Azeus... I'm certain I know that name. I believe I've heard some of your poems?"
"That's correct," Fletcher replied confidently. "I wrote the famous poem about King Fabian and the sun."
"I wasn't thinking of that one," the duke said, curt, forcefully. "I like the one about the merchant."
Fletcher did not falter, despite the erratic switching moods. "Ah, yes. Thank you. That's one of my proudest works."
"It says a lot about the commoner life," the duke went on distractedly. He waved his hand at the line of servants, who stood stiffly, at attention, like guards. At the signal, they left.
"I was born a commoner," Fletcher continued, feeding the small talk. "But then, most scholars are."
"As are most politicians."
It was a strange corner for the conversation to turn down, but it didn't seem like the duke was paying full attention. Fletcher did well in hiding his nonplussed reaction.
"That's very true."
The servants returned, balancing large trays on their delicate fingertips, gliding like dancers. The mouthwatering scent of cooked meat hit Alex right in the stomach. For too long had he been surviving off of dried beef cuts. He suddenly felt so hungry that he thought he was unwell.
"And Yufus... that doesn't sound like a Khearian name."
"It's not," Yufus confirmed. Alex keenly watched the duke's facial expressions. "It's Talumni."
The duke's movements very slightly stuttered. He didn't so much as glance at Yufus. The mention of Talum had stirred something, but it wouldn't have made sense for the duke to have been the one to send the mercenaries.
"James, are you also Talumni? I've heard blond hair is common there."
They were all careful not to tense, but Alex wasn't sure how successful they'd been at acting casual. Their table was suddenly very occupied with serving themselves food, avoiding eye contact.
"No," James stated. "I am a local."
The duke nodded, plating himself some meat.
"My daughters are forever upset that they did not inherit my pale hair. It's almost considered a token of nobility at this point. They look more like their mother."
"Llwyd did," Riley stated.
The duke's hand stopped, freezing midair. The silence was deafening.
The duke slowly blinked out of his shock, bringing down his hand to rest it on the table. He kept his fist slack. Alex held his breath.
"That he did," the duke confirmed.
Riley traced the rim of his glass, staring at his uncle, unblinking. "I've often wondered about him, you know."
The duke's reply was smooth. "I'm thankful he has remained in your thoughts."
Gone was the father who had fondly gossiped about his wife and children. Now, he was cold, impersonal, unyielding. It was so quiet Alex was sure they'd be able to hear his heart thump so heavily.
"He won't ever leave them," Riley promised.
The duke began to tap the table with his finger, it was gentle, yet piercing into the quiet, echoing. It was far slower than Alex's heart, and the noise was disjointing against the thrumming in his ears, the rhythms clashing.
Then, he stopped.
"You said you were here to conduct an interview," the duke recalled, the melody of his voice dampening. "To whom, Riley?
Alex kicked Riley under the table, panicking, pleading obedience with his eyes. It wasn't unsalvagable yet. He could still fix it.
Riley maintained his stare and did not respond to the duke's question.
"Alex," Fletcher whispered, nudging him.
Alex looked down, and Fletcher nervously gestured his head to James beside him. James' body was rigid, his shoulders straightened, his eyes fixed, alert, like an animal. All of his senses were honed in on one of the servants, and Alex wasn't sure which one. Something was going to happen.
Going there had been a mistake.
"Tell your servants to leave," Riley said. "I would like us to have a conversation."
James stood, his chair scraping. "I will see them out," he said, gaze still fixed.
A beat passed and the duke nodded, allowing it. One of the maids bowed out quicker than the others, snaking past their straight line to flee. James launched himself over the table, plates clattering to the floor, and pursued her, wasting no energy.
The duke stared after James, his brows furrowed.
"I'm not sure why you seem to harbour so much suspicion of me," the duke said. "Llywd's death was tragic, we were heartbroken."
"You don't seem very heartbroken," Riley retorted. "In fact, I read the files the knights took in Edobury. You didn't really seem to care at all."
The duke's tone became sharp. "Just what do you think you're accusing me of? Speak very carefully."
The door slammed, a sudden commotion of thuds and muffled screams shuddering the air, disturbing the tension.
James entered, dragging a woman into the room by her hair, her mouth and arms secured with his bandages.
She sobbed, kicking her legs out as he effortlessly tossed her onto the chair at the opposing end of the table.
She cried out as he used what remained of the material to fasten her in place.
Thomas, Fletcher and Yufus had no choice but to silently watch in horror.
The maid tried desperately to pull away, trashing her head around, screaming through the gag. James grabbed her jaw, his fingers digging into her face, tilting it, and he leaned down to whisper. After that, she wailed hopelessly and stilled her body, realising that she was truly trapped.
Alex's voice shook. "James..."
"A guest," James stated. "Actually, no. A rat, more like."
James rested his forearms over the back of her chair and leaned against them, his bare scarred skin on display. The duke stared, rendered paralysed by shock.
"I want to know what happened to Llwyd," Riley said, talking over the muffled weeping.
The duke snapped out of his daze and looked at Riley, then back at James again.
"Uncle. What happened to Llwyd?" Riley persisted, growing agitated.
The duke turned his head at the tone, but he couldn't remove his eyes from James. He was engrossed. Alex stood up but James warded him off.
"You look awfully familiar," the duke said. "Do I know you?"
"How would you know this bodyguard humbly born from a commoner?" James replied, smoothly.
"Uncle!"
"What's more to say?" the duke snapped, his fist slamming down, cutlerly rattling. "He vanished. And I've had to live without my son."
James tilted his head towards the door and Alex received the message clearly. He clicked his fingers, grabbing Thomas' attention, and pointed towards the entrance. Thomas was quick to run there and secure it, watching for any eavesdroppers.
"We know he's alive," James bluffed.
"That's right," Riley agreed. "I don't know why you're hiding that. But he's my cousin, my friend. I deserve to see him."
"I'm not hiding anything," the duke hissed. He kept glancing at James, his attention lingering.
"Tell me!" Riley demanded.
"I'm certain of it," the duke said. "I recognise you. I do. I know you from somewhere."
"I sincerely doubt that," James replied.
The maid bucked her head again then, screaming. James took another handful of her hair, clenching his fists hard enough to pull on her scalp. "Shut up," Alex heard him utter lowly, calmly, almost intimately. It caused Alex to shudder, his fear provoked.
Alex could see the moment the suspicion took root, the duke's eyes widening, the disbelief and doubt that followed. Then, finally, the realisation dawned upon him.
He stood, retreating, the legs of his chair screeching as he knocked into it.
"Looks like we're both in trouble, doesn't it?" James whispered to the maid, his face perfectly stern and humourless. Then, louder, he said: "Yufus, I'll give you two gold pieces. Grab him."
Yufus accepted the bargain wordlessly, pouncing in the duke's direction. Strangely, instead of calling for his guards, the duke held a hand out, swallowing nervously.
"I'll sit down," he insisted quickly. "Here, watch me sit back down."
Yufus waited for James' order and James nodded, allowing the duke to reseat himself rather than be forced so unceremoniously.
"And that's why the duke gets treated with dignity, and you don't," James told the maid, holding either of her shoulders, massaging them.
The duke went to speak but then stopped himself. He then tried again, his voice coarse.
"You're supposed to be dead,"
James smiled, baring his teeth. It dropped just as quickly. "I don't suppose I need to reintroduce myself, do I? I get to meet two old friends here today." He patted the maid's head. "Lucky me."
The duke blinked. "Two?"
"It seems you're not considered very trustworthy."
"I don't understand."
"The maid," James stated. "She—"
"No, no. I don't understand why you're working for Prince Maurice..."
Bewildered, the room fell silent, the crashing of waves stilling into a flat plain. There was nothing but the quiet whimpers of the maid and the exertion of breath. Alex and Riley shared a baffled look. The situation had just taken a seriously confusing turn and no one knew how to react.
"Prince Maurice..." Riley echoed.
"Wait..." the duke looked around, the room's atmosphere was too genuine to be faked. "Am I the mistaken one, here? It couldn't be King Fabian, could it?"
James stared. "No?"
The confusion had possessed the duke, too. "Then, which one are you lot loyal to?"
"Which one are you loyal to?" Riley hit back.
The duke laughed nervously. "Let me rephrase this. Is there anybody here that is loyal to either of those parties?"
No one said a word, unsure whether they should pretend. Mostly, the confused chaos of the situation had rendered them unable to assess their best course of action.
"If I'm not wrong," James uttered, slowly. "It seems the only person loyal to either of them would be this bitch, here."
The duke frowned. He turned his attention to Riley. "I thought you were on Prince Maurice's side."
Riley's brows were low. "Why?"
"Well... you were his guard. And his friend his whole life."
"He murdered my— friend."
Alex knew Duke Straton was shrewd, but he prayed the duke wasn't using this confusion against them to reveal their true intentions. He hoped the atmosphere was authentic. To clear the situation up, he said: "We're with Prince Julian and King William."
"You're with William?" the duke asked James.
James frowned, clearly taking issue with the idea. But, for the sake of simplicity, he agreed. "That's right."
"Why?"
"Because my brother murdered my family and then tried to kill me, too?"
The duke nodded slowly. "So, you did know about that."
"I was there. I ran away. You knew about it."
"I did know about it," the duke confirmed. "I knew before it happened."
"You're with them," Alex accused.
The duke winced. "That's not... accurate."
"Riley?" James said.
"I think he's telling the truth," Riley replied.
"Then... who are you with?"
The duke wiped the sweat off his forehead, running his hand through his hair. "I'm with the temple."
"The temple?" James repeated. "Ah, of fucking course it was the temple! I'm an idiot. That's so obvious."
"It's like Ino's books," Fletcher realised. "The whole demon nonsense, the mercenaries, the sway of public opinion. They're our black sheep!"
The bigger player who'd sat behind the scenes, who had orchestrated everything fifteen years ago. It was all the Adeia's temple's doing.
Riley looked hurt, hearing the confirmation from his uncle. "How could you do all this? Why?"
The duke couldn't find an answer to provide his nephew.
James' tone was calm, but it held a dangerous undercurrent that caused the hairs on Alex's arms to stand on end. "You knew my family were going to be slaughtered and you did nothing about it."
The duke flinched at the accusation. And he sighed, rubbing his eyes. He seemed weary, tired. "I had no idea Prince Julian was still alive," he said. "Please, don't resent me too much, Julian."
"How dare you say that to me."
"Why would you do this?" Riley asked, looking genuinely hurt.
The duke winced. He rubbed his hands together, unable to deal with the nervous energy. He gestured to the chair beside him and Alex sat back down.
"My father, the duke before me, this was his plan, his vision," the duke explained, his eyes cast down. "He put our family into this mess and I was cursed to inherit that decision. But, that's what family is about, isn't it? Fixing the mistakes of our kin, protecting each other, living on."
Riley's hands shook. He clenched them into his lap. "Then... Llwyd?"
"Llwyd is alive," the duke revealed.
Riley deflated, releasing a wobbly breath, his eyes glassing over. "He's alive."
"My father had planted Llwyd as King Fabian's friend," the duke went on, frowning. "He was forced into this chaos before he was old enough to understand anything. By the time my father died, the seeds were already sewn. I had to live with his decisions."
"Did you?"
It was a question no one other than James would dare ask. The duke didn't, or couldn't, answer. With heavy hearts, none of their group was willing to break the loud silence, which implied more than words could've.
James began to twirl the woman's hair, in thought.
She cowered away from his touch like it stung.
"To me, it's all empty excuses. I don't believe it never crossed your mind to warn my father what was brewing.
You thought about it... and decided it would make your life more difficult.
So, you stayed in line like a good little soldier, washing your hands of responsibility. "
"I think you're being quite harsh," Duke Straton argued. "My son was involved— a child. Defecting could've taken his life, my family's lives. I was trying to save people."
"I wonder how many more people died under your excuses that wouldn't have done otherwise," James went on.
The duke's eyes creased. "Foresight is limited, of course.
But, forget foresight, you blinded yourself to that sort of weighing from the get-go.
Your silence killed thousands. Yet, you dare tell me not to judge you too harshly? "
James' glare was something to behold. Even with his eyes turned brown, Alex swore he could see that blood tone leaking through.
The dread pulled down at their stomachs and constricted their lungs.
It became hard to breathe, for all of them.
Alex never knew James was capable of such grave abhorrence.
The duke swallowed nervously, unable to find his voice.
Then, James let up, his shoulders relaxing. The display was fake. It was intentionally disarming.
"We'll deal with that later, though," he said. "Let's meet the second abomination in the room, shall we?"
James flicked a knife out and pressed the blade against the woman's cheek. She looked around, her eyes pleading for someone to help. Alex gripped the edge of the table, controlling his compulsion to help her.
James cut the gag off her mouth, lightly slicing her skin in the process. She didn't dare speak or scream, her mouth clenched shut against her trembling lips. Her face was a wet mess, her eyes wide.
The duke shifted, alarmed, as if he wanted to stand up and do something. "What are you doing to my maid?"
"Your concern is misplaced, Duke. This creature is not your maid, she is Fabian's."
"Who is she, James?" Alex asked, hoping to calm the situation. Except, it wouldn't work. James wasn't acting out of frenzy, he was already composed and collected. He was acting with a perfectly sober mind.
"Before that— Yufus, tell me, how much does a human life cost?"
Yufus took a small step back. "Four pieces."
"Four pieces," James repeated. "Thank you. Now, why don't you introduce yourself, darling?"
The maid said nothing, trembling in terror. James' jaw ticked. He pulled her head back by her hair and pointed his knife between her lips. "I will pry your jaw open myself if you don't do it for me."
"I'm sorry!" she wailed. "I'm so sorry— I was just doing what he told me to do!"
James released her, wrinkling his nose in disgust.
"James, who is she?" Alex asked again, trying to insert himself into the situation. He didn't dare stand up, not whilst James kept him pinned to his seat with that gaze.
"A woman I recognise from when I was a kid," James answered, finally providing Alex with an explanation. "She was a maid then, too. Except, like me, she should also be dead. Seems like Fabian spared some of them, after all."
"She was spying on me?" the duke questioned, but he didn't seem too surprised, only uncomfortable.
"No such thing as trust," James said. "There's more, no doubt. Though, she's the only one who would recognise me. So, she's my problem also."
"I won't say a word," she promised. "I have a daughter, he has her— he said he'd let her live if I did this. I'm so sorry! He'd kill her if I didn't!"
"I think she's sorry," James chuckled. "You have a daughter?"
She nodded jerkily, her hair clumping to her sticky face. "Yes. Yes, I have a daughter. She's just a teenager. She works in his palace. I was spared that day, my baby was spared, for as long as I did what he told me!"
James nodded, and for a moment, Alex believed James had sympathy. He came round to her side, delicately wiping the tears, the hair, away from her cheeks. Hope creased her eyes, her lips parted. Then, her neck was slashed open.
Alex shouted, standing. But, the cut had already been made, red pouring down from her injury. Her brows lowered in confusion, unable to comprehend what was happening. She gasped, but it was a wet gargled noise, choking on her own blood.
Alex's hands were cold. He felt helpless. Fletcher's fists clung to him, shaking.
Her body twitched as James untied her, her consciousness quickly draining away. She slumped to the ground after she'd been released, her head thudding on the edge of the table as she went down. The noise shook Alex up inside. Fletcher turned away, unable to watch.
James dragged her body along the floor, leaving a thick wet smudge on the tiles as he went. He dropped her at the duke's feet. The duke met James' gaze with a steely stare.
"Four pieces," James repeated. "It's cheap, isn't it?"
The duke said nothing.
James perched himself on the edge of the table, the wood creaking, leaning down into Duke Straton's defiant face.
"You didn't do it before," James murmured. "But, this is your opportunity to switch sides, now. King William will call the Royal Council together and he will get permission to usurp Fabian. It will happen, Duke. Your testimony isn't necessary but it would make my life easier."
The duke's nostrils flared, his jaw clenched shut as he breathed heavily through his nose.
"You like being on the winning side, don't you?" James continued. "This is your one chance. What will it be?"
Alex watched with bated breath, his pulse thrumming under his cold skin. A few moments passed and the duke nodded.
James smiled. "Good." He looked down at the body, entirely unsympathetic. "Leave that outside for someone to find. Don't hide it."
"I'll do that," the duke agreed.
James glanced around the room, uncaring of the horrified faces that looked back at him. He flicked the blood off his hands onto the floor and rubbed them together.
"I'll let you sit with your decision for a bit," he said, standing. "I reckon you and Riley should have a chat later, too. We will give you some privacy for now. Right, Alex?"
Alex stifled his rage, despite the violent urges that came over him. He unclenched his jaw. "Yes. We'll do that."
After a tense beat passed, Riley was the first to move, standing. The others followed suit, edging their way towards the door, slowly, eyeing James.
Alex kept Fletcher by his side, keeping his palm pressed against the scholar's back.
They left the duke alone with his decision.