Chapter 50
Miscalculations
"I am me, born free; born of the land and the sea; unfazed by your plea; I am me, born free."
Bard Collection, Vol. I
Noah stared at the fading back of the Duchess, observing her from the shadows, she being none-the-wiser of his position. The magic the King gave him was quite useful, he mused, turning around and making headway back to the inn.
The night was somewhat productive – not as much as he had hoped, but it didn’t completely fail either. While he failed to rattle her into immediate action, he did manage to stir her out of the status quo. A week might have been too long, he thought for a moment. He, however, felt that putting too much pressure on her to make a snap decision would have backfired. In addition, he realized she was a rather rational woman, all things considered, and someone who very much loved her daughter. In the stir of emotions, she might have outright rejected him due to lack of trust, but one week might be just long enough for her to mull it over properly.
In the end, however, the ball was in her park. Though he told her he could snatch Claire regardless of her choice, that was a rather fat lie, and a huge gamble, on his part. He no longer even had the confidence to sneak into the mansion again, let alone to bring someone out of it unseen. After all, during his first stint, they were entirely unaware. While their security might be top-notch, they were bound to be relaxed at least slightly due to the fact that they likely didn't have intruders in years. The second going would be far, far more difficult precisely because they would be expecting him. There'd be no dimmed and shaded corners for him to hide, and there'd be plenty more guards to track him. And there would certainly not be an open balcony waiting for him like that.
The unfortunate part was that he had to go blind into that interaction; he had no clue what Sylene was actually like, not what the stories portrayed her as. He had to think on the fly, and sometimes the best outcomes simply aren’t available in such situations. By now, he was certain that had he known her personality prior to meeting her, he would have been able to turn her upside down on her choice. Alas, hindsight always knows the best.
Sighing, he slowly contemplated further plans, regardless of her choice. After all, Claire was still not the main goal of his in the fort – one could say that he even fulfilled his main goals by establishing strong identities, buying local slaves and having Myrell and Sash equip them with the necessary elements for prolonged survival, and by learning of the fort’s state as well as the nature of politics here. Bonuses from his journey would include acquiring Claire and tying Sunnder to him, at least loosely.
All in all, however, even if nothing else pans out, it was a worthwhile, albeit slightly lengthy journey. While it won’t have any immediate benefits, at least long-term it has helped him establish the ground he’ll need in the future.
Reaching the inn, he came to a sudden halt, his eyes freezing on a solitary figure lingering in the shadows. She was crouching behind a stack of empty and cracked barrels, her apparel shaking as though exposed to the wind, shadows hiding her features. However, Noah saw her clearly – as though she was swimming out in the daylight. Claire.
He observed more closely and saw the traces of crimson dripping and drying over her nightgown. There was a dagger by her side, bloodied and half-snapped, and traces of tear-trails on her reddened cheeks. She didn’t appear hurt, as far as he could tell from roughly twenty feet away, which immediately spun a possibility inside his mind. Sighing inwardly, he took off the hood hiding his features and fixed his hair into a short tail before stepping out of the darkness and letting her see him.
Almost immediately after, she jumped, a step away from bolting toward him, yet stopping at the last second, looking around warily. She found comfort in the darkness, he realized, where she thought nobody could see her. Yes, she was fine – he was certain. Whoever that dagger greeted, however, was not. And he had a faint idea of who it was.
“… is he dead?” he approached slowly, taking off his cloak and hanging it around her gently. She was shaking like a leaf in the wind, trying to suppress her sobs.
“… y-y-es, I… I think so…” she mumbled weakly. “I—yes, yes…”
“… let’s get you cleaned up first.” He said, picking her up and helping her to the back end, waking up Myrell who nearly screamed out in horror when she saw Claire.
“M-Master… w-what’s going on?!” she asked in a hushed tone, trying not to wake up anyone else.
“Later,” Noah replied. “Clean her up and lead her to my room. Leave no trace behind, just like I taught you. While you’re at it, plaster her face in makeup and cut her hair. Make her look as different as possible.”
“Y-yes…”
“She’ll take good care of you,” Noah forced out a smile as she felt Claire’s grip tighten on his clothes as he was about to leave. “Trust her as you trust me, alright?”
“… y-yes…” she nodded meekly, finally letting go.
Noah spun around and left, walking back to the front of the inn and through, up the aged, wooden stairs, and to his room. He slumped straight into his bed, burying his head into his hands, finally letting out an audible sigh. Everything’s ruined, this was what he hated the most about people, and the world at large – no matter how much one planned, how much one schemed and played others… miscalculations were always inevitable. He has been wrong before, many times actually, and it frequently cost him… a lot. Just as it will this time around.
She’d killed her eldest brother, Sunnder, and he could already tell why – he’d most-likely gotten drunk again and pestered her about him, possibly beating her far worse than before as the form of regaining some resemblance of dignity over what Noah did to him. In the end, in the heat of the moment, she stabbed him. This fucks everything right up the fuckin’ fuck… fuck… uggh…
He hated it when his plans broke apart at the seams because of something beyond his control. No, he couldn't deflect or project; this is the result of his direct intervention. Had he not spurned Sunnder, he probably wouldn’t have gone too far. He misjudged him; or, rather, his likeness toward booze. Under it, even the most rational minds break, let alone the ones that are already bleeding from every corner. It’s fine, he soothed himself, taking a deep breath. I can salvage this…
His mind began working quickly, his thoughts bouncing left and right, over and over every single possibility. Every scenario that he could imagine, he played out in its entirety inside his mind – as well as every possible variation to them. Hundreds, thousands, soon they piled up remarkably. There were millions, he realized, making it impossible to simply run through every simulation and find the most suitable one. This time around, the miscalculation was too big. It resulted in the death of a Lord, a direct descendant of the Kingdom’s Duchess – and while he may not have killed him, his hands were involved. It was not that he cared much for Sunnder’s life or even the man’s well-being, but that he cared how his sudden departure eliminated all the future plans he had for the house.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Claire’s no longer even an option as the seat of the house; if she were calm and clever enough to clean up after herself before sending for him to look over it – especially with Sunnder’s tendencies which could have bought them a few days – he would have been able to restart everything and bank back on her. Now? It was over. For now, he’d have to give up on House Myrsell entirely. With Sunnder and Claire out of the picture, the second son, Ymmir, had all the cards he could possibly need. There was absolutely nothing Noah could use or offer to ensure the kind of support he’d need in the future. It’s not that all his plans fell through, but that he’d have to make a drastic change in them – House Myrsell… would have to fall.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by a few, feeble knocks on the door, after which they creaked open, a figure walking through. Have I really been thinking for at least an hour? She was cleaned up, wearing one of Myrell’s more ‘posh’ dresses. From the lustrous hair she sported just a few moments ago, it had turned boyish and short, and was even dyed into nightly black. Contours of her face also changed completely, especially her cheeks that now seemed sunken, and her full lips were turned thin. Fuck, makeup really is the most insane magic ever after all… he thought for a moment, scrutinizing her.
Nobody would recognize her, not even Sylene – that much he knew. Procuring a new identity for her wouldn’t be a problem, but that’s under the pretense that they can sneak her into Elucido. New ‘slaves’ don’t suddenly ‘pop out of nowhere’ – with their documentation, their history of enslavement is also jotted down. And, as he wasn’t a slaver – and he didn’t have the documents for his slaver’s alias with him – he was unable to start up the process. Entrusting it to a complete stranger? Especially someone greedy and inhumane enough to become a slaver? That wasn’t an option.
“… Mr… Mr. Flint?” she snapped him back out again as he let a sigh escape him.
“Sit down,” he pointed next to him, reaching for the nightstand and picking up the bottle of wine, drinking directly from it. “Did anyone see you?”
“… no,” she shook her head, her fingers tangled deeply in her dress. “I… I used the secret tunnel my mom told me about when I was a kid.”
“How long until the body’s found?”
“… dawn? I don’t know… he’s… he’s in my room…” she replied, her eyes growing teary once again.
“… what happened?” though he could already piece it together, perhaps there was a detail or two that could help him.
"… at first, it was the usual…" she recalled, wiping her eyes. "He… he came back home drunk and started banging on my doors. I… I just let him in, as I always do… and… he started beating me. After a few minutes… I realized it was different. He hit harder and harder, and… and then… he… he started ripping my clothes…" she shuddered and shook as Noah came to another realization. "He… he… unbuckled his belt and… and that's when I knew what he wanted to do…"
“… he tried to rape you?” he asked, frowning. Though he hardly considered Sunnder a good man, it appears he made another miscalculation – as he certainly didn’t consider him to be someone with the capacity to rape his own sister.
"…y-yes…" her voice cracked once again as she started crying. "I… I fought back and he… he got more violent… I… I don't how but, uh, I managed to… managed to reach the dagger that you gifted me… and… I stabbed it. I stabbed him hard… and again… and again… I… I don't know what took over me, but I just kept… I kept stabbing him…" she broke out into an outright cry, burying her face into her breasts, hiding it.
Goddamn, he took deep breaths in succession, burying down the worm of empathy. Right now, empathy can’t help either him or her. The monster that he’d learned to be throughout his life, however, could. Regardless of whether he spends the rest of her night consoling her or not, she was scarred for life. She’ll recover, he knew, but she’ll never be the same. Those things… moments like those… no matter how big of a monster one becomes, they will forever haunt. He should know.
“… I’m sorry.” He said, patting her head once before getting up, pacing around the room. “Do you know any way for me to sneak you out of the Fort? I can falsify an identity for you, but that’s only when we return to the capital. Until there, you, as now, technically don’t exist. And I can’t exactly say who you really are.”
“… uh… y-yes, there, there are several tunnels underground used as out-of-city-dumps. Uh, some, some of them aren’t used anymore…”
“… will they station guards at the entrances once the Fort goes on the lockdown?” Noah asked.
“Yes…” she nodded.
“… how many?”
“I don’t know.”
“I—hm?” Noah frowned suddenly, pushing his index finger against his lips and indicating Claire stay silent. His presence seemed to vanish in her eyes as he crept silently toward the doors. Though she could see him, she couldn’t feel him, leaving her stupefied.
Noah stood in front of the doors for a moment before suddenly springing out, opening them violently, and reaching out. With a jerk of his arm and a painful yelp, Claire saw a figure thrown into the room as Noah quickly closed the doors and lunged at the figure, pinning him against the floor.
He pressed his forearm against the man’s neck and took a good look at the struggling boy; What’s-his-name? Lion? Or something?
“L-Lyon?! What are you doing here?!” Claire jumped off the bed and raced over as Noah eased, though still pinning the boy down. The latter struggled for a moment, coughing violently as he glanced fearfully at Noah for a moment before shifting his attention to Claire.
“M-My Lady… I… I came to help…” he replied feebly, still struggling with the throat ache.
“H-help?! What the hell were you thinking?!” she forcibly hushed her voice, glaring at him. Noah sighed and backed off the boy, helping him stand up and sit onto the bed.
“You really shouldn’t be creeping in your Master’s bedroom at night, young lad,” Noah said. “That’s not how you win her affection.”
“T-that’s… not it…” though he started off angry, he toned down immediately when his eyes met Noah’s, fear inscribed in them. “I… I went out for… the nightly patrol of the floor, as I always do, but… I smelled something repugnant coming from my Lady’s room… so… I checked it out. That’s… that’s when I saw it…”
“… repugnant? D-don’t they start smelling only after a while?! What if they find out immediately now?!” Claire panicked.
“It’s not the corpse,” Noah sighed, sitting down as well. “It’s the piss or the shit.”
“… both.” Lyon said.
“W-what?”
“Well, when somebody dies, they—you know what? That’s not the point,” This is… this is the punishment, isn’t it? “Did anybody see you?”
“… yes? I walked out the front…”
“… oh boy.” Noah took a deep breath. “We’re leaving. Tonight.”
“What? Why?” Lyon asked. “My Lady did nothing wrong! If she explains it, I’m sure they’ll—”
“They’ll publicly behead her, at best,” Noah interrupted the boy with a harsh tone, quickly beginning to pack his things. “We’ll have to hurry up a bit, but we should make it out in time. Fuck… fuck…” his thoughts seeped out for a moment.
“M-Mr. Flint… I’m… I’m sorry,” Claire said suddenly. “You… you have no part in this. I shouldn’t have dragged you… I… I don’t know why I did… I…”
“… if you have time to keep on yapping,” he said, entirely dropping his persona. “You also have time to help me with packing, no? Grab everything in those drawers and stuff them into this bag,” he handed her a leather back with an indifferent gaze. “You knew fully well what you were doing, and before you turn defensive, I don’t blame you. It’s true; in this city, I’m probably the only one who’s both willing and able to help you right now. So, get a hold of yourself, and start planning out the route we’ll take to the tunnels that won’t have us be seen by anyone, not even a cat or a mouse. Got it?”
“Y-yes…” she replied without hesitation, almost instinctively, as his sudden shift in tone and behavior caught her off guard.
On the other hand, Noah didn’t have time to deliberate on her thoughts; what he knew was how the story will be told, especially once Sylene sees the scene. She’ll pin it all on him; he snuck in to take Claire away, Sunnder caught him in action, and Noah, or Skyler, ended up killing him before escaping with Claire. The truth of it all won’t matter, as it will be a fine story to spin to hide the hideousness of their own internal affairs. And Ymmir will most-likely use him as an excuse to take over the executive role of the Fort and both establish and stabilize his power.
Everything was coming undone, and rapidly. He’d also have to abandon the additional slaves bought and taught by Sash and Myrell, and if he hadn’t already poured so much into the two, he’d probably abandon them too. Five people… there’s no way we won’t be seen, he thought angrily. Maybe send Lyon, Claire, and Myrell to the tunnels? And Sash and I can just take the gates? Or even stay? No, too risky. Chances are that somebody already knows that Claire interacted with 'Mr. Flint'. Fuck, fuck, fuck… he took another deep breath to calm himself down. This is why I fucking hate people… fuck…