Chapter 43

The Sensations

“The budding flame is the most dangerous; like the firefly in the falling sky; never forget where once was the name of; the one who spoke out the lie.”

Bard Collection, Vol. II

Claire was currently nervously staring at the visitor, trying her best to maintain the calm surface. He casually and indifferently sipped away at the cupful of tea, occasionally glancing out of the curtained window and into the streets. His visit was hardly unexpected, she mused, though certainly not any less nerve-wracking. When the Bell rang yesterday like the beast, she immediately knew he would come. As for why, however, she had no means of knowing. As enigmatic as ever he still remained.

Today he wore a different garb than his usual one, one much less conspicuous; a long, two-ends coat of dark gray unfurled over a white shirt whose neckline wound around in frills, held together by a simple belt rounding a set of dark-brown leather pants. He had styled his hair to the side, over his right ear, giving him a rather strange look. She, on the other hand, wore a far more flamboyant, twilight-dyed dress of rosy motifs, with frills dominating the appearance.

“… you did amazingly well to calm them down,” he spoke suddenly, putting down the cup of tea and glancing at her with a faint smile. “You must teach me your secrets.”

“… ha ha, I can hardly take credit for that,” Claire laughed nervously. “I am afraid all of that was my Mother’s grace.”

“… really?” he mumbled. “She’s a fascinating woman, then.”

“She indeed is. If you’d like, I can introduce you to her.”

“… no need,” Eh? Claire hardly managed to hide the shock from emerging on her face. After all, she offered to introduce him to the Duchess of the Kingdom, yet he rejected almost without any hesitation. “Don’t be so shocked,” he added with a chuckle. “Not all of us aspire to climb to the sky, you know? Besides, however fascinating of a woman your Mother may be, to me, you are far more fascinating.”

"…" she felt her chest tighten for a moment as she lowered her head; it was odd. She was no stranger to the empty and hollow compliments of numerous Lords of the Kingdom who threw roses and lilies at her each time they'd meet, but his words lacked that emptiness. There was no underlying meaning behind them, no ill intent. "I am ready." She suddenly spoke aloud, as though her heart finally beat back her mind and it was able to speak.

“… so you are.” He replied in a mellow voice, his smile warm and gentle. “We are lucky, then.”

“… lucky?” she quizzed, still unable to look up.

“With the Fire coming,” he said, taking another sip of tea. “There will be plenty of chaos to abuse.”

“…” she looked up, meeting his gaze at last, uncertain as to what he meant.

“Tell me, Lady Claire… what exactly do you want to do?”

“… what… exactly…?”

“Hm,” he nodded. “Is it merely reconciliation? Ensuring he’s living well? Usurping your family and becoming its head so your words cannot be defiled? Removing yourself from the family and eloping with him? Or something else entirely?”

“…” Claire fell into the silence of shock, as he had just uttered so many dangerous things within a single minute that she found it too difficult to even breathe. Yet, he did it with such calm and indifference, it almost seemed as though he saw usurping the Dukedom as a trivial matter.

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“If you are uncertain,” he said, smiling lightly. “I have a potential plan.”

“… a-ah?”

“Truth be told,” he added. “I deal in some exotic goods myself; and, if I may be so bold to say, goods that neither you, nor your mother, nor her mother, have ever even heard of, let alone seen. I don’t think it’s entirely impossible for me to ‘buy’ you out from your family and have you join me in Elucido. Of course, that will just be a pretense; you will hardly be joining me.”

“…” her thoughts continued spinning as she tried to figure out his words; just then, he reached into the inner pocket of his coat and took something out, putting it down onto the table. Glancing down, she noticed that it was a dagger; while certainly strange-looking, as it hardly had any decorations, it can’t exactly be classified as ‘exotic goods’.

“… ordinary looking, no?” he spoke her thoughts out loud. “I will gift it to you. Whenever you feel like you’re ready to believe my words, test it out. On anything. I guarantee you won’t be disappointed.”

“…” Claire reached out and picked the dagger subconsciously, staring at it for a moment. Its handle was far stranger than she anticipated; it fit her fingers perfectly, and she felt no discomfort holding it tightly. It was smooth, and she couldn’t recognize the material it was built of. She reached over and just as she was about to trace her index finger over the blade, she felt a strong grip on her wrist hold her. Startled, she looked up and met the pair of blue eyes that were dangerously close.

“Careful, Lady Claire,” he said, taking the dagger away and dragging it over his own index finger. Right there, a trail of red began falling; shocked, Claire had completely forgotten that a man had touched her so casually. “It’s very sharp, you see?” he smiled and put the dagger down, licking away the blood from his finger. “I know I did say ‘on anything’, but I hardly thought you were going to try it on yourself.”

“Ah-!! Are you alright?” she finally came back to her senses, panicking, as she jumped up and reached over, grabbing his hand and inspecting the still-bleeding wound. “I—I will call our House’s Physician to take a look at the wound—”

“Relax,” his voice trickled into her ears, her chest tightening further; she felt a strange sensation as he grabbed her hand once again, his face inches away. She was close enough to smell his breath, yet hardly anything registered. She hadn’t been this close to another man in over three years now, after all. “I’m not made out of glass, Lady Claire.” He let go, yet she found herself wanting stranger things. Unknowing of her own actions, she stretched her arm out and pressed it against his chest; firm. It was firm – rather, too firm, like a stone-brick. She couldn’t look away from his blue eyes, yet they seemed to show no reaction, even when she began tracing her fingers down and unbuttoning his shirt.

She thought him a sprout-like merchant, yet, the more buttons came undone, the more she found herself in a haze. His torso came into a full view in front of her, chiseled and primed; she saw muscles on top of muscles, every inch of his body as though handmade. Just as she was about to reach for his belt, she felt a strong grip at her wrist causing her a jolt of pain and returning her back to reality. As she became conscious of her actions, her cheeks flushed and she leaped backward like a rabbit.

“I—I am so sorry! I—I don’t know… I don’t know what came over me…” she quickly looked away, yet a part of her still wanted to keep on looking forward. He buttoned his shirt back up, but it didn’t matter. The image persisted in her mind.

“…” Noah on the other hand was fuming inside; he himself had barely held back. After all, it’s been quite a few months since he’d last even masturbated, let alone had sex. It took all the willpower he had to hold back, but this was neither the time nor the place – and it wasn’t even the correct person. Getting himself tangled in the love affairs of the nobility was not something he could afford; he’d much rather visit a brothel or two, even if it meant incurring the wrath of the STD gods of this world. Math… math… grandmas… grandmas… baseball… baseball… hoof, motherfucker, that was close… “It’s fine,” he spoke in a calm voice, feeling rather proud of himself at the moment. “We all long for a warm touch from time to time; loneliness can become truly cold.”

“… ah, yes,” she quickly latched onto the straw of dignity that he threw at her. The more she spoke with him, the more she realized he was one of the most enigmatic men she’d met in her life. She was usually able to easily peer past the veneer they’d show her, as per the teachings of her Mother. Yet, none of those ticks were visible on him – there was no distinct lust in his eyes, no tonal change in his voice, he didn’t try to casually touch her or imply anything beyond what he actually meant. Or, at least… she was entirely unable to read him. “You… you mentioned that you had a plan…”

“… I did indeed,” he smiled. “Would you like to hear it?”

“If it’s possible, yes,” Claire nodded, still feeling somewhat embarrassed… and guilty. To think she’d so shamelessly approach the man who was offering to reunite her with the love of her life. It was difficult for her to process it all. “Shall I have maids fetch us a meal, Mr. Flint?”

“… I’d very much appreciate it.”