Chapter 15 #2
Finally, the soldier gave up and walked away, muttering curses and protests under his breath.
Honestly, I didn’t buy the threadbare story of a dying mother either.
The man didn’t appear defeated or sad as he’d been told he couldn’t see his dying mother for a last time, as if he had no proper relationship with the woman who’d given birth to him.
But if that were the case, he wouldn’t have taken it upon himself to make it all the way from the army stationed in Trussin—located all the way in the south of Iolesia—to the Marsian border. Suspicious.
But my analysis was interrupted when it was our turn at last. Fig approached the captain, and I banned all thoughts about the denied soldier from my mind. Slipping on my usual mask of boredom, I settled my gaze on Fig, who made the first contact.
“Good day, sir. We seek to return to Marsia. Two weeks ago, we crossed into Iolesia so my master,” he motioned to me, “could wed his Iolesian bride before bringing her home.”
“Papers.” The supervisor sounded as bored as I looked and extended his hand. Fig handed over some documents Thain had forged last night.
As much as I hated him, he had a genuine talent for forgery. According to Antas, he was even able to forge the royal seal, and I didn’t even want to imagine what kind of mischief or potential worldwide incidents he could cause with that.
“It’s all here, all our papers, the papers of the lady, and the document we received when we crossed the border on our way to Iolesia.”
The supervisor studied our papers before sauntering over to me. I dipped my head down to him, schooling my face into an even more bored expression of utter arrogance and disdain. Jama tensed, and my left hand dug into her hip in warning, earning me a small wince.
“Your name is Timenth Cantor?”
“The one and only. And this here’s my beautiful Iolesian prize, Lareana Cantor.
” I deftly tangled my left hand in Nayana’s blonde braided crown and tugged her head back so it almost touched my shoulder, effectively obscuring her face with mine, all while maintaining the facade of an aloof noble and major asshole. “Isn’t that right, darling?”
Before Jama could answer, the captain cleared his throat, and my head turned back to him. I kept her head on my shoulder and made it appear as if I’d forgotten to release her because of the distraction the soldier posed.
“According to your papers, you’re the son of Lord Cantor of Mantoria?”
“Bastard son. He fucked his wife’s handmaid. I doubt he even remembers my existence anymore. The last time I met him was when he paid me off with an estate and enough wealth to make me promise that I’d never challenge his legitimate heir, who was born second.”
“And the people with you?”
“You’ve already spoken to my steward. These two are my guards.
” I waved my hand in the general direction of Antas and Thain, then motioned to Ireas, all the while pretending that using the names of my staff were beneath me.
“And this soft-looking boy is my bride’s cousin.
I bartered with her parents to take him home and employ him.
As a child, he fell on his head, and it’s been hollow ever since.
I’ll marry him off to my steward’s daughter.
She isn’t very bright herself.” I felt Jama tensing, and I tightened my hand in her hair in warning.
“At least he’s a looker,” the captain laughed cruelly, and I nodded.
“That’s the only redeeming quality the boy has, believe me.”
The captain chuckled again, then motioned to his guards. “Open the gates. Sir Cantor is free to ride home.”
I couldn’t believe that this ruse had actually worked.
Sure, I had the role of the arrogant noble down to perfection, but this felt too easy.
No suspicion, no further questioning or seeking confirmation of my story—Noelk’s balls, I wasn’t even dressed for the part!
This control was nothing like I’d expected, so I didn’t let my guard down just yet.
Something was off, I felt it in my bones.
The captain returned to Fig and handed him our papers back.
Shortly after, the iron gates swung open, and I released Jama’s hair to take the reins back in both hands.
She was consumed with the urge to glare at me—I could tell so much by the way her body vibrated with anger against my front—but she hung her head and glanced down in defeat, so her face was not so visible. Clever girl.
The others swiftly surrounded our horse, creating yet another visual barrier.
I caught a glimpse of one of the soldier’s faces as we rode past, and his expression heightened my unease. He tried to appear neutral, but his eyes were glued to Jama, and—shit. I knew greed when I saw it.
But the gates were already closing behind us, and before I could sign to the others, a lone figure slipped through the barely open gateway right behind us.
It was the Iolesian soldier from earlier who obviously didn’t accept the verdict of the Marsian ones.
In an instant, chaos broke out on the Marsian side, and the gates opened once more.
The guards burst into action and went after the man who was running toward the treeline in the distance. At least everybody was ignoring us—apart from the greedy soldier, who stared daggers at us.
Before I was able to tell Fig what I’d observed, he issued a command. “Follow me. Quickly!” He urged his horse to transition into a swift canter, which would provide us with enough speed to make progress without raising suspicion or straining the horses too much.
I double-checked if my grip on Jama was secure enough and followed Fig. Hastily, I directed my mount closer to him. “There was one guard on the Iolesian side of the border who worries me, Fig.”
“I noticed it too. That’s why we’re making such haste.”
“What did you see?” Jama chirped in, and I ignored her for the moment. It was likely she’d get mad soon, but I would address it at a later time—or preferably never.
“We should have dealt with them.” My expression turned dark, and I could feel the magic in my blood responding. “Let me ride back and save us some trouble.”
Fig contemplated my words, then nodded. “It’s actually not a bad idea to have someone monitor the situation.”
I couldn’t help but deadpan at his choice of words. That didn’t sound like the bloodbath I had in mind. “Monitor the situation?”
“Yes. Try to find out what they’re talking about or what their movements are. And Dion, it goes without saying—no violence at this point in time. Nothing that would warrant further investigation.”
I clenched my jaw in frustration. I only realized I’d tightened my grip as well when Jama winced from being clutched too hard.
“You’re an ass,” she hissed. “First, your act at the border, which was needlessly mean, by the way, then ignoring me, and—also your overall behavior.”
“I can live with that. This ass here is trying everything he can to keep you alive.” My answer to Nayana was clipped—I didn’t have time for an argument—before I glared back at Fig. “All right, reconnaissance it is. Will you take her?”
Fig shook his head. “I don’t want to strain my horse any more than necessary.”
I grunted in confirmation. It made sense, as he was the heaviest of us, courtesy of all his muscles.
A suspicion crawled into my mind, spreading with an icy foreboding, and I stiffened before Fig continued without a care in the world. My eyes narrowed dangerously. If he dared—
Fig wasn’t affected by me gutting him with my gaze at all. “Thain will take her.”
The finality of his order compelled me into an instinctual reaction—a growl from deep inside my chest rang through the air, and I bared my teeth.
“Fine with me,” Nayana said, unable to read the metaphorical room, irritating me even more.
Of course, the tiny woman was fine with the opportunity this presented to her. I bet she was glad to get rid of me for a while. I wasn’t too unhappy about temporarily handing her over as well, but why did it have to be Thain, of all people?
Not for the first time, I contemplated doing the world a favor and getting rid of him—in the most permanent manner possible.
“Then it’s settled,” Fig said, smirking at me. Bastard.