The door leading to a small, cozy, yet absolutely functional office was opened as a servant entered the room after apologizing for the intrusion. Inside there were three people already waiting for a visitor… that didn’t come.
By the wide table, four rich armchairs were placed, these on the sides and from the "host-side" were occupied by: on the left – the man in his mid-thirties, with a well-trimmed noble-like mustache. In his eyes energy and confidence were burning as he was filling the paper with columns of numbers. The plaque on his chest said
On the right, a well-dressed beauty was sitting with legs crossed – not a very lady-like position, but she was so lost in the book she was reading that she barely paid any attention to etiquette.
Last but least – the man that looked to be in his early fifties, with his hair slowly turning white and relatively wide yet short mustache and beard covering most of his face. He appeared to be so focused on calculation sheets in front of him, that one could say he paid no attention to the servant that did everything to keep his presence as little-disturbing as possible. It was quite the opposite.
* “You came alone, Robert?” he asked without even looking in his direction. Only once he raised his voice his companions snapped back to reality.
* “I am afraid that yes, my lord, Mister Zariel asked to forward his words of apology and to ensure you, that he will gladly appear as soon as possible once…” he stopped for a moment trying to find the word that would not appear as impolite
* “Once… what? Robert? Please, tell me. It is indeed quite interesting to know what kind of excuse he made up this time. I am trying to lure him in for… Robert, how long?”
* “Two years, 3 months, week and four days. Three, if we would count today as a success.”
* “… over two years. And each and every time he made up really good excuses. Work, deal-making, taking guild requests to gather rare ingredients… I had to change my schedule of the entire month to finally catch him, and now he once again delays our meeting…”
* “… He… I mean…”
* “Come on Robert, spit it out.” There was no anger in man’s voice, quite the opposite, he appeared to be amused by his servant behavior.
* “… he said that he already promised a dance to his companion before I approached him, and he is bound to keep his word, yet he would come as soon as the song would end… he should come in thirty minutes… unless he would keep looking for excuses.”
Aleister Rosewood chuckled even though the main accountant and the woman hissed annoyed.
* “Really? A dance? Who does he think that he is?” the woman started annoyed
* “A man of his word. Look at this from his perspective. Robert, could you please tell me where did you find him?”
* “He indeed was heading toward the dancefloor while holding his partner’s hand.”
* “If he would just drop his companion aside, he would make himself look like another lapdog begging for attention. And by forwarding his apologies… my, my. I thought that he was just a young man that got lucky trying to avoid confrontation because of fear, but he may actually be much more experienced player than we thoughts…” accountant noticed
* “Klark, he set up a factory in the slums right under the nose of Alchemists Guild, he created a new manufacturing model that allowed him to take significant piece of the potion market, and once it became wide-known that it was him standing behind illegal organization, instead of being thrown to jail he managed to legalize institution made of thugs. Do you really think that someone could do that with only luck on his side?...” Rosewood got up from his seat and started walking across the room “… but the most vital thing is his manufacturing method. He managed to turn thieves and beggars into people working in alchemy industry. I have tried to learn how the process looks like… but he has connections with Syndicate.”
* “We also do…” woman noticed
* “Charlotte, my child, we are their customers. He apparently works IN Syndicate. They were never a people of honor, unless the business was a matter of their little family.”
* “Honor of a scum?”
* “Indeed. Two rules. The deal is sacred. If you did the job, you better get paid, and the other one: touch one of the family, and the family shall touch you. You always could pay for information regarding their other customers as long as it didn’t threaten their business… but each time I tried to get any data regarding Mr. Whiteraven or his company, they only answered with
* “They threatened you!?” accountant’s eyes almost popped out
* “Remarkable, isn’t it? That only strengthened my hunger for information thought.”
* “If he has this kind of Syndicate's support then… isn't he dangerous?”
* “No. Syndicate is unimportant. They are only a tool, limited tool. They are great when it comes to information, bribing, sabotaging and other actions of similar nature. But they can’t act openly. They are almost without any impact on the market as it is. If I was about to start a cargo war with WhiteRaven, he would lose and Syndicate could do nothing about it.”
* “But that would be just plain stupidity on our side…” Klark noticed
* “Indeed. The traffic caused by appearance of Apothecary is greatly beneficial for us. Actually, it would be best to leave him alone and let him do his deed undisturbed.”
* “Then… why bothering so much with this still little fish?”
* “Because, the business in a game that I am slowly getting tired off, meeting new players always causes the rush of blood in these old veins. You can call this an ego of an eccentric old fool. I still remember the days of my youth, when I had to fight for every deal; when I was fighting for every percent of savings… but now, I grew dull”
* “Suuure.” The woman called Charlotte just rolled her eyes “… We ALMOST believed you.”
* “Also, he could be a sufficient fiancée for you…”
* “DAAAD!”
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
* “WHAAAT!? I am already old! I want grandchildren, you know!?”
* “You can’t just force marriage meetings with every third grate-merchant you find interesting!”
* “I am Aliester Rosewood! Of course that I can!”
* “NO!”
* “AND I WILL!”
* “NO!”
* “YES!”
* “NO!”
* “YES!”
* “NO!”
* “NO!”
* “YES… wait…”
* “I am happy you finally see my point of view, my precious daughter…”
* “YOU ARE LITERALLY UNBEARABLE!” she threw her book at him and left the room slamming her door behind.
* “I… believe you overdid it this time, boss.” Accountant noticed, hearing that servant Robert started vigorously nodding his head.”
* “You can’t just force young women into marriage… I mean, you can, but shouldn’t. Not with lady Charlotte at least. She has your temper.”
Aleister would just exhale air loudly, then he would quickly sit on his armchair with an annoyed grimace and crossing his arms on his chest as he would pout:
* “I want my grandchild thought!... and there is no way I can count on Xavier in this particular matter…”
* “My lord…”
* “I DEMAND A HIER!”
Aliester Rosewood. The most feared man on the entire continent, the one who didn’t bow to the kings nor priest… had this little weakness that barely anyone knew about. Outside of business meetings, he was acting like a spoiled brat with complex regarding no fresh blood in his family.
Aliester Rosewood – the grandfather wannabe.
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The song that was being played by a small orchestra was extremely similar to waltz. Rather fast-paced one, it was a fact which I noticed at the beginning while cursing in my mind. I remembered what kind of dancer Giselle was, and I already prepared myself for getting my feet trampled.
Imagine my shock when I wasn’t kicked nor stepped upon in the first minute, two… three…
Giselle noticed that I noticed, and with every passing second, her cheeky smiled kept on growing.
* “Giselle, who was the person that taught you to dace this well?!...” I asked a provocative question. I had no idea if I should thank that man, or cast some curse on him for laying his hands on my dragoness, just in case…
* “I… I won’t tell! It’s too embarrassing!”
* “I may need a lesson or two myself, you know? Don’t keep your instructor a secret from me!”
A-ha. Lesson-my-ass. The desire to practice my curse-making kept growing inside me.
* “It was papa Jericho and Alesia…”
* “Oh…” my muscles relaxed. Funny thing, I didn’t notice when I clenched them
* “What oh? WHAT OH!? I have told you its embarrassing!”
* “Not at all, quite the opposite. Gis, there is nothing embarrassing in trying to improve in any field. Quite the opposite, I am lacking words how proud and happy I am! I still remember our first dance. You turned my legs into mushed pulp…”
* “… stop it!” she hissed quietly getting red on cheeks
* “The way you almost dislocated my shoulder when you took over the initiative... which, let me remind you, as a woman you shouldn’t do…”
* “Will you shut up by your own, or should I help you!?” vein started pulsating on her forehead
* “Just last thing – I am supposed to force you into a pirouette, not the other way around…”
Her face quickly approached mine, for a moment I believed that as she found her hands and legs to be occupied she decided to hit me with her forehead. Lead by instinct, I closed my eyes, just so I could feel a gentle, warm pressure on my lips.
* “What did I do to earn that kiss?” I eventually asked, taken aback by her unexpected move.
* “Kiss? No, I just helped you to shut up.” Once again, this damn, cheeky smile.
* “This only motivates me to keep talking more.”
* “Then, I will silence you more.”
* “Absolutely fine by me.”
* “Same here.”
When did she get so straightforward? Among the people? Now, as I recall, she indeed changed a lot. No, no physically, she is just as wonderful as I remember. But, she appears much more open and witty these days. I remember when just saying aloud anything sexual would get me a few series of punches.
And look at her now? Kissing me in the crowd? What’s next? Exhibitionism? I wanted to ask this question aloud but…
… but it was not the time nor place to make fun out of her. Now, is the time and place to cherish the moment.
The way her hair and dress danced after each motion was hypnotizing. We were moving together with dozens of other people, like a wave spinning in a circle around the sphere-like room. To feel like a piece of bigger, living organism… it had this weird magic of the act that, frankly speaking, I enjoyed.
One of her hands on my shoulder, mine on her waist, the other locked together.
Our gazed dived in each other’s eyes, our hearts were racing, our breaths slightly rigid. Like in sparring, but this time we weren’t fighting against each other, more like the two of us against the world.
I missed it. I missed it each time I closed my eyes - her gentle gaze filled with that delicate affection. I wanted her to look at me like this forevermore. Thirst that can never be quench.
Another turn, another twist. We barely noticed that the song ended and every person bowed or courted to their partner. About thirty minutes passed in a blink of an eye as if it was just a moment, and if it wasn’t about the slightest pressure of fatigue over my muscles I would not believe that this one song has already ended.
I didn’t want it to end.
Dragoness got closer to me and passionately rested her forehead on mine while purring in comfort.
* “Go. Do your thing. Don’t make me a big old bear wait too long. I will be waiting… in the meantime, I will maybe dance with gentleman or two…. Or five? Depends how much time you will need…” she said with too-obvious-fake-innocence in tone.
* “I will make sure to end the lives of each and every single bastard that would approach you.”
* “Hey, it’s my job to be the jealous one!” she chuckled
* “Not today, not when you look like a goddess among mortals.”
* “Aww, keep spoiling me more and maybe you will earn a prize.”
* “What kind of prize?”
* “Hmm…Dunno yet. But I will try being creative.”
* “That better be a promise….” I exhaled loudly “… I will be back as soon as possible.”
* “Why are you in such a rush?”
* “Because each and every moment of my life I don’t spend with you, is the moment wasted…”
A pair that was moving past us slowed down for a moment.
* “Awww! That was sooo sweet!...” some unknown to me woman from upper nobility almost squealed “… you never say such things to me!” she pouted at her companion
They would resume their march, but this time, guessing by their tone they started arguing, quite violently.
After confusion caused by this appearance passed, we exchanged confused gazes with Gis, chuckled slightly and headed out from the dancefloor. Like a gentleman I pretend to be – I lead Gis back to the alcove, informed my new acquaintances that I had to leave them before I found out the closest servant and informed him that I was expected by Mr. Rosewood.
The man in the suit would just nod and start leading me toward the upper floor.
And then, as I was in the middle of the stair a chill ran down my spine.
I sensed something. Not here, not in the mansion, but really close. It felt like…
… Rage. Hatred, being unleashed. As if someone gets the burden off their chest, the burden that was there for so long, that the creature almost forgot how to live without it.
It was like a single candle being lighted up in the absolute darkness, shined for a moment or two before dying.
That happened again, on the other side of the city. And again. And again. The inferno of emotions so strong, that their outburst appeared to me like magic being cast.
Flames. Strong, toxic flames. Negative emotions that sparked the desire to act. To do. To kill. To rip. To tear.
Spontaneous. Short…
… delicious.
It wasn’t a strange event. Or, actually, it shouldn’t be. In the daylight, everyone was losing control for a moment or two every now and then. These little lights could be sensed by every skilled magic-user… from a certain distance and only if they were compatible with the emotion, that is.
What was extraordinary then? The quality and quantity. The wrath was pure, like if someone was killing his life-long nemesis. I could sense them from approximately miles away, which shouldn’t happen. There is no way that someone’s senses were sharp enough to feel outburst of a non-magician from hundred meters, not to mention miles!
And the numbers.. yes… the number… if you would join all these dislocated sparks together… they would make a beautiful conflagration.
* “Mr. Whiteraven? Something happened?” the servant asked
* “Yes… No… I am not sure. It’s irrelevant, please continue.”
I shook my head to the sides and resumed my journey toward Rosewood’s private office. Whatever happened out there, it was not my business. As long as it didn’t affect me in person, I wouldn’t give a damn…
… if I only knew back then that it did affect me…