With nothing else to do, Lucas decided to go and wait at the manor for Frank. He got the feeling he’d pushed enough of his buttons for now, and if he tried his luck any more, the jerk might do something drastic. What the drastic measure might be, he didn’t know. It wasn’t like he exactly knew the guy all that well, but he seemed to be a noble, so he probably had some level of political power. And a whiny guy like him with any sort of control just seemed like a bad idea, but as long as he didn’t get punished by the guy, it wasn’t his problem.

It wasn’t exactly hard to find the “manor,” but it wasn’t exactly an impressive residence either. It was two stories tall where every other building was one story tall, sure. It also looked a little bit nicer than the rest of the buildings – it was made of cleaner looking wood, the base of the manor was accented with some fascinating stones, and the front yard had a nice small garden. There were some pleasantly pink flowers on display there, which was amazing considering they were blooming in this snow-forsaken place.

Those were all of the manor’s positive points, however.

His first complaint was the appearance, which he had just complimented. Yes, yes, yes, it looked alright, no one would say otherwise. Lucas would even say it looked fantastic. But the garden only had those pink flowers in it, and nothing else. Whoever planted the garden clearly didn’t know what they were doing. He’d seen infinitely better flower gardens in his parent’s neighborhood. Surely Leon could afford to get more magical flowers that could bloom in winter, mix in some blues and maybe some whites and reds, but no, there was pink and nothing else. And the number of them! There were so many! They looked like they were all choking each other out and competing for the same nutrients. Their sheer number was extremely garish, and made the house look like on of those cursed homes you see listed online for 1 million dollars. Yes, it has its own charm, but the person who owned it was clearly a psychopath.

Next, the inside of the house was a bit lacking, for lack of a better word. The guest room was furnished with an expensive-looking couch, a chair, and a table between the two. A stylish rug, consisting of a mix of red, black, and green stripes hung on the wall, but it looked a little too tacky for Lucas to actually thing it had any sort of artistic value. And that was it for the furniture. The room wasn’t large by any stretch of the imagination, in fact it was actually a little bit smaller than he would have guessed, but the room still felt a bit empty. Plus, wasn’t there supposed to be some sort of entertainment in a guest room? You know, to entertain guests while the host was busy. Someone needed to tell that stupid Frank how to actually make a proper room.

He didn’t even know why he was complaining about all this. For now, he didn’t have any plans to annoy Frank any further.

At least, that was the plan until Frank kept him waiting in that dingy little room for what seemed like at least a couple of hours. With nothing to do except sit there and stare at crappy art, boredom quickly overtook him. Not enough to make him want to wander around the manor and find some secret torture chamber, but enough for him to sit down on the couch and start tapping out rhythms to songs he’d never hear again. His feet weren’t a great replacement for instruments, and rapping his hands on the table became uncomfortable after fifteen minutes, and he could only entertain himself for so long with his one-man band. At the very least, the man of the hour himself came in before he could finish tapping out the The ***tle’s entire discography. Well, what he could remember from it, anyway.

Alongside Frank, however, was a tall-ish woman wearing a chest place. All her other clothes seemed plain enough, similar to Frank’s even, but for whatever reason she felt the need to wear some armor, too. It was made of some light turquoise metal, and the rims were trimmed with a dark red. Besides the trim job and the interesting coloring, the armor itself seemed extremely plain. Its pauldrons weren’t spiked or made of dragon scales or anything like that, they were just made of the same material. There were no magical runes to be seen anywhere on it either, nor even a decorated emblem. Maybe the knight was a mercenary or something, not beholden to any noble house. Still, it was more tha

The lady had a stern look on her face, which matched her military-cut hairstyle. She looked like she would have been right at home at an army base back on Earth.

“So, Frank, who--”

“Xandrious,” the armored girl interrupted him before he could get a sentence out. What was with everyone on this damn planet? Did they have no manners? Why was he constantly getting interrupted? Oh well. You’d think he’d be used to getting interrupted by now, but apparently not.

The girl sat down on the chair in and faced him. After which, she placed her elbow on the table and rested her head in the palm of her hand. Her fingers curled inward as she did this, hiding her mouth behind them. Whether it was because she felt that position was somehow comfortable, or if she was trying to hide her expression from him, Lucas didn’t know. He tried not to make it a habit to try and see the reasons behind why people did what they did, but he couldn’t help but notice her for whatever reason. Every movement she made seemed very… deliberate and readable, and he didn’t like it. It was like he was supposed to know what she was thinking without her actually saying anything, and it was uncomfortable.

After making herself comfortable (or not), she then proceeded to tap her fingers on the table with her free hand. From pink to thumb, then from thumb to pinky, then over and over again, she drummed the table. While she did this with her hand, she just stared right at him. Obviously the stare didn’t bother him, despite her hard expression. Lucas was used to people giving him the stink eye, and she didn’t have that hateful, murderous look that the vampire had. So really, her look might have daunted someone else, but not him.

“Yes?” Lucas asked the girl when she didn’t say anything.

Again, she didn’t respond to him. Instead, she let out something that sounded like a mix between a sigh and a tongue click, and turned to look at Frank.

“You were supposed to keep an eye on him,” she scolded him.

“How am I supposed to do that? I have my own responsibilities,” Frank argued back.

“I paid you to do a job, and you didn’t do it,” she said, raising her voice.

“Your father paid me, and I did exactly as he ordered,” Frank counter argued.

“Get out,” she said, obviously exasperated. Frank did a short little bow and quickly walked out of the room.

The lady then slowly turned her head back on Lucas. Her fingers had stopped dancing on the table’s surface, and she lifted her head off her elbow. Sitting straight in her seat, she finally began talking to him.

“It’s been a while, Xandrious.”

“Uhhh. Sure,” Lucas said. “I don’t know if Frank told you, but I have am--”

“Amnesia, yes,” she interrupted him again, and yet another long silence sat between the two of them. It hung in the air, preventing any kind of conversation. Lucas had no idea who this person was and how he should talk to her, meanwhile she wouldn’t say anything, either. She just looked at him. Her hard expression had slowly softened into one that might have been pity, but it also might have just been exhaustion. He couldn’t tell.

Sitting apparently wasn’t good enough for her, as she abruptly stood up from her chair, coughed into her hand, and walked behind him. As he looked at her, she examined the rug on the wall. Lucas couldn’t see what kind of expression she was making as she looked at it, but it couldn’t have been an amazing one. It was just a piece of fabric, after all.

“How much do you remember?” she eventually asked.

“I--”

Stolen novel; please report.

“Sorry, that was a dumb question. If you remembered anything, you’d recognize me,” she said.

Lucas just shrugged in response to that. Not that she even saw him shrug though, since she was still looking at that rug.

“You still remember your last name though, right?” She asked.

“Barrolt or Barrelt or something like that?” Lucas asked as much as he answered. Honestly, he knew he should remember the name of his noble family, since it was important to this world and all that, but like, the name Xandrious was already a mouthful. Knowing anything more than that was just a little too much for him right now. There were other, more important things on his mind, like what he was going to do and where the heck he was going to live once he got out of here.

“It’s Barolt,” she corrected him.

“Same difference,” Lucas said, shrugging again.

The still nameless girl shook her head as an annoyed hrmmm escaped from her lips. Or maybe it didn’t escape, and the clear display of irritation was on purpose. It was hard to tell, considering she wouldn’t look at him, and instead chose to talk at that hanging carpet.

“Do you want to know?” she suddenly asked.

“Eh?”

“Why you were here. Do you want me to tell you?” she asked.

“I don’t really care,” Lucas honestly said. Xandrious’ journal pretty much told him he was plotting revenge against his family, but he didn’t care about what a brat like him was doing. He was dead now. Probably. Oh jeez he hoped he was dead. He didn’t want to fall asleep and then end up in some pseudo-dream where he has to confront Xandrious spirit, which had somehow survived in him or something.

“I see,” she said.

And once again, silence hung over the room like an omnipresent eye-on-a-billboard might loom over a road. Seriously, he knew his conversation skills weren’t great, but wow this lady wasn’t doing him any favors. She just kept staring at the stupid wall, occasionally raising her hand to her face. That was it. There was no effort in her part to keep talking about why she was here, or what she knew about him, she just stood there silently looking at something that clearly didn’t deserve to be looked at. Honestly, he bet this was the best day of that stupid rug’s life. He’d bet no one else had stared at it even half as much as she did.

“Do you...” she started to say, but then trailed off again, mumbling something he couldn’t even hear. It was so awkward here, why couldn’t she just talk? Ah, screw it, maybe he’d try making small talk then. It seemed like he had to, if he wanted this conversation to go anywhere. Which he didn’t, really, but he had the feeling he wouldn’t be allowed to leave the room until he at least humored the lady. After all, earlier she had said that she paid Frank to keep an eye on “him,” and he assumed that “him” was probably, well, him.

“So, uh. How’s life?”

“Oh, it’s good, it’s good,” she said. “Actually, that's a lie. Sorry.”

“I see," he said, unsure how to even follow up a question like that. So he didn't, and instead changed the subject.

"You’re dressed up in armor. Are you a knight?”

“Mmm. Yeah.”

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“Not really,” she answered. Seems like he had a companion here, a companion in the working-a-job-they-don’t-like-but-have-to-anyway club.

“uhmmm...” Lucas tried to think of another question to ask, letting out various uhmms and ahh’s as he thought. Seriously, how did people casually talk to strangers? It wasn’t a skill he ever picked up, that’s for sure. Talking to them through work or through a hobby was easy, sure, but he literally knew nothing about this person except that they were a knight. And he knew nothing about knights. Wait, that’s something to talk about.

“So what do you do as a knight?” He asked as he nervously laughed as he attempted more small talk. Everyone in this world probably knew what knights did, but he could only work off of his assumed knowledge from Earth, and he had no idea if that knowledge would even be useful here. I mean, it probably was, since he can’t imagine a knight here being all that much different, but he really didn’t know for certain

And he was trying to make conversation here. And why did he have to talk to her, why couldn’t he just leave. And this clumsy conversation was a chore, and like many chores it wasn’t fun. And his butt was starting to hurt because this couch that looked comfortable wasn’t actually comfortable. The cushions were hard and the back rest was more like a back breaker.

“I protect the house and holdings of Barolt,” she said with a practiced stiffness clinging to her voice. Someone definitely forced her to learn that answer by heart.

“Neat,” Lucas said, letting out more nervous smile. He didn’t expect someone from the family to be here. Wasn’t Xandrious supposed to be exiled? Why would someone from the family be here?

Ah.

Theory.

Maybe the Barolts knew that Xandrious wanted to murder them. From what Lucas read of Xandrious’ journal, he didn’t exactly seem like the brightest bulb. After all, it would take a real idiot to write down all their nasty murder-revenge fantasies in a journal that other people could pick up and read. If they knew, it would make sense for them to keep an eye on him. Alas, poor Xandrious was dead now, and only Lucas remained. And he had to deal with all the scraps he left behind.

“That reminds me, I never got your name,” Lucas said, trying to move on from the subject.

“That’s right,” the woman said as she finally walked away from the rug and sat back down on the chair.

“I’m Seldra Barolt. Your sister,” she said with a sad smile.

Lucas didn’t know how to respond to that, except with even more nervous laughter. Man, he could really go for a nice cup of cola right now, or even a root beer. Not an actual beer though, no, not that anymore. No more alcohol. After that last incident, he’d never drink again. Not even at a party where everyone else was drinking. No, he’d be in the non-alcoholic corner, thank you very much.

“So… uh…” Lucas stammered.

“Enough beating around the bush. I’ll get to the point,” Seldra said with a grim look on her face. Her lips pursed, her brows furrowed, and her fists clenched. “Have you read your journal?”

How did she even know about that? Did Frank steal the journal from the cabin, read it, then tattle on him? Oh no. Oh no oh no. Lucas wasn’t aware of this world’s laws, but he was 100% positive that they wouldn’t be lenient on someone who was planning to murder several nobles. Especially when they had solid evidence. Oh jeez, she probably thought he was faking amnesia too, as some sort of flimsy excuse to escape capital punishment. Lucas once again felt some sweat on the back of his neck.

Why did every encounter in this world have to be so nerve-wracking?

How was he even supposed to answer that question? First off, he could lie and say no, but then she’d probably just tell him what was in it, or show him the journal. Obviously lying would get nowhere since she’s obviously seen it. She wouldn’t just randomly ask about it after all if she hadn’t read all the damning evidence in it. Lying obviously wasn’t the move here, and it would just come across as a really bad attempt at playing dumb.

So, telling the awful truth was pretty much the only option available to him.

“Yes, I have,” Lucas said after awkwardly swallowing the spit in his mouth.

“And you still claim to have amnesia, right?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“I see.”

Seldra shook her head after taking in a deep breath through her nose. After muttering something, a pair of handcuffs materialized from nothing and hovered over the table. They looked to be made of the same material as her armor, but there were much more fancier. Golden flowers were engraved on the side of the handcuffs. Whoever designed those things definitely had some sort of sadistic streak. Why would anyone put flowers on handcuffs. It made no sense.

“Xandrious Barolt, you’re under arrest for plotting to murder your family,” she said as she grabbed the cuffs. “Stand up, and put your hands behind your back.”

Lucas immediately complied. As he stood up, he even turned his back towards her to make it easier for her to cuff him. It was frustrating, but what else could he do? Fight her? Ha, his combat skills were terrible, and his spells took too long to cast. She’d be on top of him before he even had a chance. Running wasn’t really an option either, since he doubted she was alone here. After all, why would she come by herself to arrest the man who plotted to murder her? There were probably other knights waiting outside, eager to keep the peace. If he didn’t do everything they wanted, there was no doubt in his mind he’d be maggot food within the hour.

As the cuffs clicked on his hands, he felt a strange feeling come over him.

[MP is being suppressed]

So the cuffs prevented him from casting magic, too. They really didn’t want to give him any chances, did they.

Oh well. At least being arrested was better than being killed.