Sybil couldn’t be bothered with long goodbyes, as she had her own agenda planned for the evening. She hadn’t told anyone about how Duxton had attempted to… The memories of their last encounter sent shivers down her spine. But she wasn’t going to back down. She wasn’t going to let him intimidate her or threaten her friends.
Beat was sitting on the other bench of the carriage. He had his arms folded in front of him and his attentions were kept on the window. There was clearly something he was irritated about.
“Are you feeling better?” He didn’t bother to look at her when he spoke.
“Not really. Vex gave me some medicine to help with the nausea and it’s sort of helping. The stuff tastes so bad that I think that’s making me feel worse than the dizziness.” She glanced at him and then out the window as well. The sun had set early, but it always did during this time of year. “Rather late for him to be calling me out.”
Beat frowned. “There is another function tonight, and he is looking for an excuse to cancel. If you are unwell, he may use that as an excuse to waste your time with toxic conversation.”
“If he attempts anything I am uncomfortable with, I will ask you to help me leave,” she replied.
He paused before nodding to himself. “Good.”
The carriage came to a stop and Sybil took a moment to compose herself. She had told Veximarl that she was fine. That this is what she needed to do to protect people. At the same time, she was done with being bossed around. There were demands that she had, and they were going to be heard.
Beat opened the suite door for her and she spotted Duxton and Shaw over by the window. Shaw was watering a collection of different colored cabbages and lettuces that he was growing in pots. Duxton was following him closely, muttering in a dark tone.
“That one looks ripe. Why not eat that tomorrow?”
“Because these are for the new year celebrations,” replied Shaw in a weary tone.
“Isn’t every day we live worth a celebration?” Asked Duxton inquisitively.
Shaw shot him a glare. “I was not the one who came up with this city’s traditions, but I will abide by them. We will harvest them for the new year and not a day sooner.”
Duxton pouted. His attention quickly shifted towards the pair that entered. “Ah, Sybil. I hadn’t recalled giving you permission to take such a long break. How grand of you to join us again.”
His carefree nature was making her furious. Duxton took a step forward to greet her and Sybil’s reply was to shift her body into mist. It felt no different than it had when she was holding her sword, yet she wasn’t able to move as quickly without it.
The trail mist flowed towards Shaw, reforming into her usual body long enough to pull his sword free from his belt. Her body dissipated again before he could react and she reformed once more in front of Duxton. A bead of blood appeared on his neck. She tightened her grip on the hilt, holding the sword steady so that it wouldn’t pierce any further into his skin.
Rage burned in Sybil’s voice as she spoke. “If you ever touch me- No… If I find out that you have touched any woman against her will, I will kill you. I will hunt you down and I will end your life.”
Duxton’s grin failed to falter. “You may have picked up a new trick, gloom girl, but I think you forget that I have two very capable bodyguards. I will always be allowed to do as I please.”
“I’ll allow it,” replied Beat as he walked over to the couch and fell upon it. He kicked his legs over the armrest and nodded at Shaw.
The paladin walked over and held out a hand. Begrudgingly, Sybil returned his sword. Shaw took a moment to examine it for tarnish or damage before he returned it to its scabbard.
“I agree with Alder’s judgment,” he replied.
Duxton snarled at the both of them. “I will have the both of you beheaded for treason.” The two shrugged apathetically. “I am serious about it this time! You will be executed for these threats!”
Beat’s hand appeared above the couch and he waved it in Sybil’s direction. “Shaw, catch Twist.”
Sybil was mentally prepared to have a fainting spell for when she needed a quick escape, but she hadn’t meant to have a real one. Her legs failed her as she fell back into Shaw’s outstretched arm. This whole turning into mist thing without her sword was still new to her. There was going to be a lot of practice needed if she was going to figure out how to do this without it wasting all of her energy.
Shaw lifted her up and placed her in a chair. “Hold still.” He grasped the sides of her face and examined the way the candlelight hit her eyes. “... You shouldn’t have come. Go home and take tomorrow off.”
“I’m fine,” muttered Sybil as she looked off to the side.
“This isn’t a joke. You were already recovering from your training sessions when you suffered from that fall. Even with magic and medicine, your body can’t handle-”
“She said she was fine, Shaw,” hissed out Duxton. “We’ll excuse ourselves from tonight’s activities and do something light tomorrow... They have that festival at the core entrance. We’ll show up and wave our hands about all proudly and give this city hope in these trying times. Isn’t that worth a little trouble on our behalf?”
Shaw gritted his teeth. “She’s lucky that I don’t drag her to the hospital and restrain her to a bed until she is better. We promised Duke Rubire that we would keep word of her accident hidden as long as he cooperated with us. How do you think the media will react when they see a healthy woman suddenly at death’s door from exhaustion?”
Duxton twirled his finger about the air. “Now you know that particular word is forbidden, Shaw. That means it’s time to play the headline game!” He pointed at his paladin in an accusing manner. “As always, minus ten points to Shaw for starting the game. Beat! Your turn!””
Beat rolled his eyes sarcastically. “Core member restrained in hospital amidst fears of transforming into tainted beast.”
“I like it,” nodded Duxton. “Has an authentic feel to it. Ten points. Now, Shaw. It is time for your redemption. Make it count for once.”
Shaw shrugged. “Pregnancy.”
Duxton wasn’t amused. “Minus another five points for pointing out the obvious. Try again.” Shaw was never good at this game. It was disappointing.
“Handsome bodyguard inseminates married woman,” replied Shaw sarcastically.
“Aww... You believe Beat to be handsome,” said Duxton.
“I’m blushing,” replied Beat flatly.
“Plus two and a half points,” muttered Duxton after some thought. “Dear sweet gloomy girl of mine, have a go at it.” Sybil looked between them with confusion. “Take a guess at what the headlines would be if word of your exhaustion gets out.”
Sybil had made her point and she knew that she had the support of both Beat and Shaw. Might as well play a game before going home. “Stupid heir to the throne wastes an honest woman’s time. Fakes an illness to avoid him.”
“... I don’t believe you understand how this game works,” muttered Duxton disappointedly.
“Ten points,” replied both Beat and Shaw in unison.
The prince stood up and lowered his arms slowly as he exhaled. “If the media attempts anything, we will arrange for Rosethorn to release an official statement on her behalf. ‘Miss Twist has recently become the bride of a mutant fish and has suffered a spree of restless nights due to their celebrations.’ That alone should satisfy the public’s gross curiosity. People will take comfort that the happy couple is already making attempts to grow their family.”
That didn’t sit well with Sybil. “Please don’t publicize anything about my intimate affairs… Or talk about it… Don’t even think about it. I don’t want any of you to even think about it.”
“Miss Twist is a passionate woman whose antics in bed leave a man burning for more. It is hardly a surprise that that disgusting, lowborn mutt is helpless against her lustful desires to please a man repeatedly to completion.” Duxton growled under his breath and turned his head to the side. “Now I’ve gone and made myself angry again.”
“... That’s enough.” Sybil stood up, wobbling as she did so. “I’m going home.”
“Hold!” Duxton’s head snapped in her direction. He held up his hand and pointed at her. “You don’t get to run away until we’ve had dinner together! Not a moment sooner!” She narrowed her eyes. “... And I’ll let you sleep in tomorrow but we should consider visiting that core of yours tomorrow. We’ll arrange to have brunch at a nearby restaurant.”
She gave a hesitant nod. “Whatever.”
“Excellent!” He then gestured for Shaw to pay attention. “We will have to make some changes to our dinner order now that we have our girl back with us again.”
Duxton and Shaw left the room for a few minutes and returned with a hearty bean and beef stew. Sybil sat at the main table with Duxton, while Beat and Shaw ate at a small table by the couch. She poked around the different pieces within her bowl while Duxton ranted on and on about his activities.
What a strange meal to be eating with him. It wasn’t the type of food that she had seen him eaten. He preferred daintier delights with complex flavors that shifted as they danced upon one’s tongue. This was meat and beans on top of more meat and beans.
Was this done for her sake or was Duxton also feeling ill? He did seem energetic, enthusiastically ranting about what a boring man Duke Rubire was, and how he couldn’t wait to be back at the barracks.
Sybil gave Beat and Shaw a pleading glance, looking for any excuse to leave. Neither of them seemed willing to help her. Shaw was partially used to this, having been Duxton’s right-hand man for most of his life. At the same time, he was taking comfort in the idea that Duxton was too distracted to annoy him with complaints.
If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
Beat was even less willing to help. Sure, he had known the prince since they entered Braytons together, but this was the most personal interaction he had ever had with him. The Bronzescale captain was much more content when he was in the background rather than be forced to participate with any of the prince’s whims.
“Are you feeling well enough to dance?” Duxton flashed her his crooked smile.
Sybil looked over at the clock. “I shouldn’t have been gone for so long. I’d like to go back.”
“To that hostage situation of yours?” Duxton raised an eyebrow at her as her face twisted into a scowl. He then raised his voice. “Pay attention eavesdroppers! Get out. I need to talk to her alone.”
“I don’t have time for a long conversation,” replied Sybil.
“The matter is one of common interest.” Duxton looked over to Beat and Shaw. Both of them had yet to move and were staring at Sybil. “Don’t wait for her permission! You don’t take orders from her!”
A smirk appeared on Sybil’s lips. Having the upper hand was nice. “I will linger under the condition that I get my daggers back and that you will not threaten to take them away again.”
Duxton’s jaw tensed as he swallowed back a few choice words. He then waved his hand at Beat. “Deal.”
Beat walked over to a nearby desk. Her daggers had been stored in one of the drawers. He set them on the table next to Sybil and gave her a quick nod. If Duxton tried something, he wasn’t going to intervene unless she was in danger. They had an understanding.
“We’ll be in the next room over,” replied Shaw as he stood up.
Duxton’s eyes followed them until they left the room and then he looked over to Sybil. “Are you happy over there?”
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” Sybil narrowed her gaze at him.
“The man secretly arranged for the two of you to be married without your permission. You were even denied a wedding... Any sane woman would be livid.”
His guess on how she felt about it was correct. “It was simply a matter of making an ally of Duchess Elbellziara.”
“An odd choice of phrasing,” he replied. “Playing the doll doesn’t suit you. You shouldn’t let another man’s words be your voice.”
“Regardless of how it started, it is only temporary,” she spat back. “We will likely dissolve the marriage after we graduated from Braytons.” Duxton scoffed at the idea. “This won’t be a permanent arrangement.”
“So you choose to treat it as though it should be kept a dirty little secret.” He tilted his head. “Now which of you is more ashamed of this false union? I would wager him, although he did enjoy having the spotlight with you at the party. The way he paraded you around during your dance with all of those tender touches... He certainly made sure everyone knew that he was the one holding onto your leash.”
Sybil narrowed her eyes. “Why are you bringing this up now?”
Duxton leaned forward in his seat. “You two are using each other for something secret and are burying the truth under a pile of excuses. Quit feeding me lies. I have no hunger for them. I’ve gotten to know you, Sybil and I know that you wouldn’t have even looked his way if he didn’t bribe you. There is nothing about beauty, power, or wealth that appeals to you. So what was it? What does he want with you and what are you getting from him?”
Because she had a valuable friend that she needed to protect. Keeping their common enemy close seemed like the best choice. It was simply either luck or misfortune that Alton had interpreted the same due to retrieving Lydia’s rapier. Everything after that just… It just got out of hand.
“... I was only looking for some company after leaving a relationship,” she muttered. “He offered to help and now we are at where we are today. This isn’t some conspiracy that has anything to do with you.”
“Of course it’s a conspiracy that has everything to do with me,” he whispered back in a harsh tone. “Why else would my aunt agree to help you?”
“Lady Elbellziara contacted the barracks and became my sponsor before Alton and I were even together. Neither of us knows what your family wants with me. Our only plan is to graduate from Braytons and live a peaceful life in this city.” Duxton didn’t appear to believe her words. “The only thing that Alton could want is to know how his father died. Nothing else.”
Duxton leaned back in his chair. “Is that what he told you?”
Sybil nodded. “Yes.”
His gaze fell to his half-eaten bowl of food as he got a distant look in his eyes. “... I was in the palace when it happened,” he said with a shake of his head. “A war criminal had been brought to the palace. They managed to escape due to the actions of a group of violent protesters. Wulfric and several others died in an attempt to fend them off. The criminal was executed shortly afterward.”
“... I see.” That was similar to the story Alton had told her. His father had died protecting the palace. “Thank you for telling me.”
“That criminal’s name was Lydia Larkin.” Duxton tapped his finger a few times on the table. “Before you felt bothered enough to ask who the war criminal was, I am willing to tell you that it was Lady Lydia Larkin.”
Sybil’s heart became still at the statement. “Why would you tell me such a lie?”
“Information is power,” he replied. “I did something unbecoming and you plan on using that knowledge to tighten a collar about my neck. If I must flash my hand of cards in order to remind you that I am in control, so be it. Lydia Larkin is indirectly responsible for Prince Wulfric Aconite’s death.”
Sybil stood up. She then braced her hands against the table, if only to steady her thoughts. “Lydia died in the summer. Prince Wulfric died later that year, in the winter. She couldn’t have been brought in as a prisoner well after her death.”
“An alert had gone up throughout the palace, and my job is to remain hidden during emergencies. After all, I am quite the valuable individual,” he said with a brief grin. “Lady Larkin fled from the guards and happened upon the room I was hiding in. She gave herself up once she realized that she was outmatched.”
“Shut up!”
“I thought her the strangest being. She came in as a flowing mist, a reappeared crying tears of blood.” Duxton waved his hands about to emphasize how magical it had appeared. “The guards dragged her away soon enough. With Wulfric dead and King Howell’s lips sealed, I thought I would never get my answers as to why she was there.”
“And now I know for certain that you’re lying. Lydia didn’t have mist magic,” snarled Sybil.
“How could you be so certain?” He tilted his head.
“Because I would know!” Her hands tightened up into fists.
“Yes, of course, because you’re the daughter of Stallis Twist and Lydia Larkin. It would be quite natural for you to understand exactly what your mother, who raised you to tenderly, was capable of.”
Sybil’s voice fell to a faint whisper. “... I’m not her daughter.”
“Liar,” he quickly spat back. “You’ve certainly learned quite a few new tricks in such a short amount of time, Sybil. Tricks that I witnessed that woman used. Whether or not it was those tricks that got her killed is of great relevance to you and I, would you not agree?”
Sybil blinked a few times. She studied his face for a moment and then sat down. “What are you planning to do?”
Duxton folded his hands together and rested his chin against his fingers. “I’m planning on becoming your partner in crime, my dear little gloom girl. The family and I have never been on the best of terms. They took plenty from me so I see no harm in keeping you hidden from their prying eyes. You and I will work together. We’ll unravel their plots, then we part ways, happier than we were before.”
“... And how do you propose we work together?”
“Stop using your mist tricks. You’ve gone to some length to prove that your life is in constant danger, thus you have my permission to only use them in self-defense. Don’t tell anyone about your abilities if you haven’t already.
There are those who know you have a connection to Lady Larkin. We need to keep the fact that she is your mother a secret. She had plenty of powerful allies to protect you, and you have very few. Remember that. The only other rule I have is to never step foot in Fogbloom. If you must go, make sure I am with you and never leave my side.
Once we part ways, in exchange for the work I have put in for you, you will keep that fish in Carapace. I don’t care if you become a low merchant’s wife or fight to become the Crimson Duchess, keep that moron of yours out of my way. Is that something you can agree to?”
She wanted to add in her own demands, but his requests were oddly reasonable. Sybil wanted the opportunity to practice her new abilities, but he had a point. If Duxton was being completely honest with her, it was possible that her mother was in Fogbloom. It was possible that she had abilities similar to Sybil. When she had her vision of Aeneas, her grandfather, he certainly seemed to have the same magic as herself.
“... Yes. I’ll agree to that.”
Duxton stood up and stepped around to her side of the table. “And how should we seal this deal?” He set his hand on the table and leaned in towards her.
Her face contorted with disgust. “Handshake.” She held out her hand and he grasped it gently for a moment before letting go.
“What an entertaining proposition this will be,” he said with a purr. “Now call Beat out here and return along your way.”
Sybil did as she was told and she sat in silence on the way back to the Toval estate. Everything that she had learned was beginning to overwhelm her. Power, politics, the use of information to control others. All of it was too much.
She cupped her hands around her ears and bent herself over her knees. Her stomach was churning, as though she were about to vomit. There was that horrid sensation again. The one that told her to reject this life. Reject the parties, abandon the socializing, and tear away the skin of the person she was forced to become.
There was a call, deep down inside of her. To run out to the middle of the city and cry out. She wanted to fight. She wanted to challenge something or someone and take them apart with her hands. Something tangible, something easy to understand. No more mind games.
“Are you alright?” Beat was concerned by her crumpled appearance.
“... No.”
“Take a few more days off. Rosethorn will be returning shortly after the new year. You can return to work then.”
Sybil shook her head. “I can handle it.” The carriage came to a rolling stop in front of the estate. “Thank you for escorting me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As usual, Alton was waiting for her by the piano. Rather than knock at the room entrance, she walked up behind him and bent over, placing her forehead against his shoulder. Alton froze up for a moment, then leaned back and rubbed his cheek against her ear.
“That bad?” He asked.
“I’m only tired,” she replied.
“Let’s wake up Vex. He’ll be able to check to see if anything’s wro-”
“No,” she interrupted. “I don’t want to wake up Vex.”
Alton reached back and rested his hand on the side of her head. “Do you need me to walk you to-”
“May I stay in your room tonight?”
“... Eh?”
“I don’t want to talk or do anything right now. I just… I just don’t want to be alone.”
“Uh…” Alton shifted over and stood up. “... Alright?”
They walked up to his room, and Sybil buried herself in his chest. It didn’t matter who it was at the moment, or how she felt about him. The only thing that mattered was that she wasn’t alone somewhere with these horrid feelings and Duxton’s words swirling about in her head.
Alton settled for one arm about her back and the other gently stroking her hair. “...” He squeezed onto her tightly. “... I love you.”
“Say it again,” she whispered as a reply.
“Is that really what my little cave mouse wants?” He hugged her even tighter as she nodded her head. “I love you.” He picked her up and carried her over to the bed. “A hundred times over, I love you.” Alton then gazed sincerely into her eyes, his face was close enough that his bangs were just barely brushing up against her forehead. “Until the end of both our days, and a thousand years after, my heart, my body, and my soul will be yours, Sybil.”
When he phrased it like that, it didn’t hurt to hear him say those words. She could almost feel the faintest fluttering of hope in her chest. Sybil could almost forget the pain that he had caused her.
Alton and Duxton. They weren’t opposites. They were a single coin that had the same face on each side. Honeyed words that baited her into letting down her guard. But a little pain was worth it.
Duxton had tempted her with news of her mother, and Sybil couldn’t refuse his offer. She wouldn’t dare to. Her mother was murdered, and her father was framed. If Lydia somehow survived the accident, and if she somehow ended up in Fogbloom, then Sybil had to know the truth.
Her mother deserved justice. Her father deserved to know the truth as well. He deserved to know that it wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t his fault that Lydia died. Sybil owed it to her parents to uncover that truth.
And in the morning, she woke with a new resolve. No, she wasn’t a lady. This was simply a mask. The first of a collection that she would force herself to wear. It didn’t matter to her anymore how many times she would have to change her face, she was going to find out the truth.