Speeding up her thoughts after he had straightened up, she matched his characteristics to the man she had met in the past timeline. With slightly wavy dark hair that had no shine and an eye colour so dark it was nearly black, ‘Lucius’ appeared to be a man in his mid-30s with an average height. Just as she recalled, his high-society outfit was impeccably clean and tidy. His hair was stylishly combed back, and his fingernails were neatly and perfectly trimmed.
One of the most striking features about him, however, was that while he had facial features that would make him conventionally attractive in a normal situation, he couldn’t be called handsome at all. That was because his skin had an unhealthy pale grey tone that emphasised the shadows under his eyes and made him appear extremely ill.
Essentially, Lucius looked like he was on his deathbed. But that was normal for anyone of his race, as well as the lustreless hair. He was a wraith.
Well, Lucy supposed he technically wasn’t a ‘wraith’, but he shared so many similar characteristics to them and his race’s true name had never been discovered that everyone just said he was a wraith. Lucius had never bothered to correct anybody on the matter so considering him as being a ‘wraith’ was for the best, in her opinion.
He had never bothered to correct anybody but her. But that memory was in the category of ‘Scytale demands memory erasure’.
So he really did use that name before I met him, just as he told me. He probably finds it amusing it use a name that means ‘light’ when he’s a resident of the darkest place in the realms. Maybe my parents shared the same humour as him by calling me ‘Lucille’ when I have black hair.
“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Lucille,” Lucius said as he shook her hand. “Do come in and… mind the children, please.”
She followed him into the manor, looking around curiously, and she instantly heard the sound of many young kids laughing and yelling. The inside of the manor’s first floor had a few paintings and polished wooden cupboards, but none of it was extremely expensive or rare looking. All of it was tasteful in design. The floorboards of the floor were old and worn, but still polished and well looked after.
Lucius held out an arm to stop her as excited squealing sounded. Several pairs of quick footsteps sounded and three young boys, all below twelve, came running towards them down the hallway. One of the kids tripped and fell on his face, but got up quickly while rubbing his nose.
“Boys! No running in the hallway!” Lucius called before they went past.
The boys skidded to a stop and shuffled guiltily. “Sorry, Director Farrow,” one of them said.
Lucius sighed wryly but gestured for them to keep going. They laughed and sped off, forgetting about the rule to not run in the hallways near-instantly.
“Director…?” Lucy commented with interest.
“Orphanage Director. This manor is an orphanage.” Lucius gave her an intrigued look. “I would’ve thought you would be aware of this if you came here.”
She hummed as she looked around. “I knew what you did here but not quite the relationship you have with these children.”
“…I see. Curious.” He eyed her with a smile for a moment longer and then turned away to open the double doors of a room. He held an arm out for her and she entered, but he didn’t shut the doors straight away.
Lucille paused when she noticed the figure of a sleeping girl on one of the two couches in the room. Dressed in lilac clothes with curly brown hair, she snored quietly.
Lucius clicked his tongue and slipped his hands under her arms to gently lift her up. “Mabel, you’re not supposed to sleep in this room.”
“…sorry, Uncle Lucius.” The young girl who looked around seven rubbed her eyes blearily and then stopped to gaze at Lucy. “You’re weird.”
Lucy raised an eyebrow. “That’s an interesting conversation starter.”
Lucius sighed. “I apologise for her behaviour, Miss Lucille.”
Lucille hummed and tilted her head at the girl, taking note of her dark blue, nearly indigo eyes. “Do you like sleeping a lot?”
“I like dreaming. Not sleeping that much,” the girl said, sliding off the couch.
“Then you should hope for an illusion affinity,” Lucy said with a smile. “Then you can create your own dreams.”
The girl stopped and tilted her head. “Is that what you did?”
“No. Unfortunately, I can’t dream,” Lucy replied.
The girl frowned. “You’re really weird.”
“Alright now, Mabel. That’s enough. Go and play with the others.” Lucius gently pushed her out the door and shut it behind her. He turned around and walked over to the couch opposite Lucy. “Care for a drink of tea?”
“My apologies, but I decline. I don’t expect to be here for long enough to enjoy it,” she replied politely.
“That’s a shame indeed.” Lucius sat down with one leg crossed over the other. He rested his hands on his knees as he smiled at her. “Well then, Miss Lucille. For what matter have you come out all this way to see me for?”
Lucille clasped her hands together to steady them as she focused intently on the Tartarus resident before her. “Director Farrow, in thirty days an unexpected incident will occur when a Ducal Prince of the Solarmane Duchy will destroy this kingdom in a fit of rage.” She gazed solemnly at him. “And this orphanage will be destroyed with it.”
The dark-haired wraith in front of her slowly tapped his fingers against the armrest of his couch. Then, slightly tilting his head, Lucius observed her with a mildly strange expression. “Miss Lucille, are you… threatening me?”
Lucille stared back, opened her mouth, and then shut it again. She put a fist to her mouth and coughed as she held up her other hand to stall him. “N-No, sir. Please forgive me for saying this, but…” She hesitated for a moment and then continued, “I’d prefer not to be thought of as a person stupid enough to threaten someone of your especially unique and powerful status.”
Lucius blinked, looking surprised, and then a broad smile spread across his face as he tilted his head back and laughed. “Of course, I apologise for insulting your intelligence,” he replied through chuckles.
Inwardly, Lucy sighed in relief.
As quick to laugh as always, I see. I’m glad he found my answer amusing.
“W-well,” Lucius said, still trying to stop laughing. “I think I might need a better explanation then, if you would, young lady.”
“The kingdom this town is in will be destroyed in a freak accident caused by a Solarmane Ducal Prince,” Lucille explained. “It isn’t something that will be easy to prevent as the Prince is already on this plane. One of the failures of his supporters is revealed and… he decides to kill everything around him to release his anger.”
“…I see.” Lucius continued to tap his fingers on the armrest. “In a normal situation, you wouldn’t have to inform me of this, Miss Lucille.”
“…not even you can predict the actions of a powerful noble when they are overcome by emotion,” Lucille replied. “It is an event that shouldn’t happen but will anyway. The individual who will reveal this to the Ducal Prince is another powerful descendent of high nobility who is already beside the Prince. He intends to reveal this purposely to sabotage the Prince’s reputation. Killing this ‘friend’ of the Prince is impossible… because it will go against your non-interference vow.”
Lucius covered his mouth with his hand, thinking. “…thank you for warning me. Truly.” He gave her an odd smile. “You didn’t have to go through the effort to tell me this in person, however.”
He watched curiously as in response, she reached into her dimensional bag and withdrew a slip of expensive paper, her name signed on it with mana-imbued violet ink. Lucy held it out for him and he leaned forward to take it with interest.
“This is… a cheque?” He raised an eyebrow. “Miss Lucille?”
“What I really came here for is not to inform you of the kingdom’s possible destruction, but to request that…” She coughed and gestured to the paper, “…I pay for the land you will move this manor to.”
He tilted his head and Lucille clasped her hands together. “I predicted that even with the knowledge of how to prevent the nation’s destruction, you’d still want to relocate the orphanage. The new land will still be in your name or the name of your subordinates but I want to at least find a way to aid you… and all those that live in this building.”
Lucius held his chin as he observed the cheque. “But why would you want to do such a thing?”
Lucille took a deep breath. “Because I owe a debt that I want to repay.”
He looked up with an eyebrow raised but smiled slightly. “I don’t recall having any mortal debtors in this era. Any that are alive, at least. The last time some claimed they owed me a debt was…” The wraith looked to the side thoughtfully. “Two million years ago?”
“Yet it is a debt that exists all the same,” Lucille firmly stated.
“Hmm…” His eyes strayed back to her. “Telling me of the tragedy about to befall this nation should be more than enough to repay this ‘debt’, however.”
She shook her head. “I respectfully disagree. My interference in this issue will directly result in this nation surviving, but only through your hand, rendering this as a poor substitute for repayment.” Lucy gazed intently at him. “You’re not someone who would let a nation’s history and proof of existence fall into the abyss so easily.”
“…it seems you know me well. Yes, the knowledge of life should not be left incomplete by the forgotten,” Lucius remarked quietly.
Lucy knew that was his favourite saying and dipped her head. “I know you don’t need even the slightest amount of help from me, but I still wish to aid you somehow. Even if you consider this ‘debt’ as already repaid…” She smiled slightly. “I still would like to be somewhat selfish and satisfy my own conscience.”
He huffed a laugh. “I feel somewhat lost. If you want this so dearly then I suppose I’ll have to allow the saviour of our manor this one small action, no matter how much I feel it to be insufficient.” He stood up and smiled at her. “You’re a very intriguing individual, Miss Lucille.” He paused and quirked an eyebrow. “Have I told you this before?”
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“Perhaps,” she said with a smile.
Lucius smirked and waved the cheque. “I’ll keep this with me until my side has had its affairs settled and returned to its normal order. Do you plan to use your… ‘status’ to resolve this?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I have more than enough with my rewards from the Tutorial.”
“It sounds like you performed well in the Tutorial.” Lucius raised his hand to check the onyx bejewelled wristwatch he had on his wrist. “The evening meal of the children is about to begin. I could stay here and discuss things further with you if you wish, but I haven’t informed them I won’t be dining with them tonight and they become rather disappointed when I must take leave abruptly.”
Lucille stood up. “No, I’ll decline. I need to return home and I never intended to stay here for long.” She gave him a bow. “Thank you for taking the time to hear my request and accepting it, sir.”
“No, it was a pleasure to meet you, Lucille Goldcroft.” He smiled and held out his hand for her to shake. “Take care on your way back.”
She shook it and with a nod turned to leave the room’s open doors.
“Oh, but if you think I can consider purchasing the new location for the manor as enough to repay this ‘debt’… you’d be wrong,” Lucius called out.
Lucy glanced back at him to see him cross his arms.
“I might be the one in your debt now, young lady,” he said with a smile.
“…and again, I still disagree,’ she replied, feeling amused. “Goodbye, Director Farrow.”
With that, she left him alone in the room and traced her steps back to the front door. It was only when she had left the manor and walked all the way back to the end of the road in the clearing that she turned around to give the manor one last look. She could still see Lucius standing on the front steps, watching her with a smile. The edges of the manor gradually faded into darkness and in a few seconds, the entire building was gone, hedges, road, and all. Only a strangely large empty clearing was left, and she released a sigh as she headed back into the forest.
That’s that then. I hope I managed to resolve his biggest regret now.
At least this time she wasn’t half-dead from the Hero’s attack when she met him.
----------------------------------------
In the gardens of the manor that had faded from Lucille’s view, on the opposite side of where she had seen, a man with dark slightly wavy hair and a sickly-looking complexion hummed a tune as he walked, his hands held behind his back. Behind him, slightly to his left, was a vaguely humanoid figure of dark curling black mist, a bitter and cold aura emanating out from it.
A baritone male voice echoed out from the figure who was following Lucius. “Do you believe that girl?”
“Hmm… yes, I do,” Lucius replied with a smile on his face, not looking at the figure. “When you’ve lived as long as I have then it’s easy to pick out the liars from the madmen, and the madmen from the sane. Lucille Goldcroft told me what she believes to be the truth, and I trust her perception.”
The wraith chuckled as they approached the fence barring the estate from the dark forest surrounding the manor. “But for a Ducal Prince of Solarmane to destroy this kingdom in a fit of rage… my, how bold. I haven’t seen another with that sort of temperament born to the Empire’s Duchies for a few millennia.” His voice sounded amused, but it carried an underlying tone that would’ve put anyone else on edge if they were around them.
Even the misty figure slowed his movements as if feeling a subtle threat. “…my lord, are you angry?”
Lucius turned around and the figure flinched at his expression. The humanoid shadow dropped to the ground on one knee and lowered his head, not daring to look up.
“Eidolon, few have managed to make me feel this way since before the last World Tree Renewal,” Lucius said with a wide smile, spreading his arms. “Very few indeed. I think I may handle this particular youth personally.”
The figure shuddered slightly but lowered his head further. “May you achieve all you wish.”
“Oh, my wish was that I never had to make this move in the first place.” Lucius turned back around and rested his hands on the fence. “But this is how it turned out. Just imagining what would’ve happened without Lucille Goldcroft’s warning…” He fell silent, leaving the figure nervously waiting. “Eidolon,” Lucius finished, his voice filled with incredible ice. “Begin the preparations.”
“As my lord desires!”
The shadowy figure disappeared, leaving Lucius alone in his silent garden. The cool wind blew through the grass and plants as the wraith turned around and observed his manor.
The Reality became unstable a few months ago. Lucille Goldcroft must have had something to do with it. But it seems there’s a greater threat she fears, to even consider coming to me. Although the reasons behind that seem to be complicated.
She really is quite the oddity. I don’t think I’ll be satisfied until I manage to meet her in person again. I haven’t been this curious about an individual ever since I met him all those years ago.
He leaned his back against the fence as he thought back to his meeting with Lucille.
And feeling his presence branded on her hand… the realms are going to be in turmoil soon if even he decided to involve himself with a mortal. I wish I could’ve had a longer discussion with her.
He smirked and looked behind him as the red sun began to set.
Oh well. There will be plenty of opportunities to do that later.
…and when the time comes I’ll be able to discover what relationship my ‘past self’ had with her in the former timeline.
----------------------------------------
It was the day after Lucy’s trip to visit Lucius. Due to the work she had to catch up on, she didn’t have the opportunity to talk to Hargrave, Sedric and Scytale after their outing, but with it being the first of April, someone else was due to arrive.
Scytale was still demanding an explanation about the coded diagrams he had recognised as the Dawn Dissenter’s text though, so she opened the door of the crafter’s workshop and descended the stairs.
Scytale, Sedric and Hargrave were all standing around the largest workbench in the centre of the room, which at the moment was covered in all the stuff they found in Sedric’s basement. But they weren’t looking at any of those strange objects. They were inspecting a pair of brown leather gloves that rested on a box on the table.
Sedric narrowed his eyes at the gloves. “What are these?”
“A birthday present,” Scytale replied, sitting on the bench in his snake form.
Sedric gave the snake a suspicious look but slowly reached a hand forward to pinch the opening of one of the gloves and lift it up, inspecting it. The high-quality leather had a glossy sheen, but several metal buttons, almost like tacks on a leather armchair, ran down the sides of the glove. Thin metal circuitry spread outward from the cog-shaped disc embedded in the back of the glove. Sedric observed them for a moment before he came to a conclusion.
“These are cursed, aren’t they.”
“No, they’re not!” Scytale exclaimed with indignation. “I found these in the Founder’s vault and thought you might like them, that’s all! Not everything I do is a prank!”
Sedric still looked wary as Lucy walked forward and smirked. “No need to worry this time. I permitted him to take them out of the vault. These magical gloves aren’t cursed.”
“I feel like I need to be suspicious of everything your bond hands me,” the crafter muttered. Then he blinked and gave her an expectant look. “Actually, Lucille… could you teach me to recognise cursed items?”
“Nooo, don’t do it Lucy! You’ll ruin my future fun!”
“Hmmm…” She smiled and approached the workbench. “Maybe. But for the moment, I’m more interested in investigating these ‘coded diagrams’ you discovered.”
…
“So… you cracked the code yet?” Sedric asked, raising an eyebrow. Behind him, Hargrave was sitting on a stool and Scytale had his head stuck in some random box, fishing objects out.
“Yes. I know what these say,” she replied, holding a page in her hand.
“Really?” The crafter’s eyes widened with surprise and after hesitating, he came closer and peered at the page. “Then… what’s on it?”
“Standard instructions to create several core mechanical components of the Coalition’s tech,” Lucy explained. “I’ve seen replicas of these in the Coalition’s facilities.”
He frowned. “So it’s nothing special?”
Scytale glanced up to shoot the crafter a look of disdain. “Sedric, how stupid do you have to be? You know the Coalition doesn’t let just anyone know the secrets of their machinery.”
Sedric glared at the snake but Lucille smiled. “Scytale’s right. These are highly compact engines that only the master craftsmen or higher know how to make.” She put the page down and tapped her fingers thoughtfully on the page. “Not to mention that there’s an additional requirement of being a member of the Dawn Dissenters before you’re allowed to learn how to craft these.”
Sedric stared at her. “…what?”
Hargrave frowned. “What’s the Dawn Dissenters?”
Lucy hummed. “Just a secretive paramilitary force that is the hidden weapon of the Emperor and his strongest Radical supporters. As long as you’re not fooled by their claims of freeing the Empire from being a monarchy, you can go about your life and probably not know you’ve ever met them.”
“That’s a very simple way of describing- wait, what was that about the Emperor?” Sedric continued staring at her. “I’ve never heard that before.”
Lucille glanced over her shoulder at him, gave him one long blink and then proceeded to ignore him. “It seems that Sedric here is the grandson of one of the more powerful members of the Dawn Dissenters.”
Sedric scowled as she continued, “I assumed as such due to him bearing a Legendary class built on the foundations of a magic engineer, but this suggests if the Coalition and by extension, the Dawn Dissenters discover that an inheritor of the class exists then they’ll want to bring him back.” Lucy shrugged. “They don’t have a claim to owning the path of progression for the class as it was created by Sedric’s grandfather, however, so besides having some annoying would-be solicitors stalk him his whole life, Sedric should be fine.”
Lucille glanced back at him. “They’ll certainly attempt to break off your contract if and when they find out you exist. In this instance, our contract being non-exclusive means they can’t resort to drastic measures to distance us.”
Sedric groaned and placed his hands on his head. “I don’t want to get mixed up in this! And I definitely don’t want to have to take on ‘students’ or something to teach my class to. Not that I know how.” He crossed his arms and frowned. “If I join the coalition I won’t be able to make what I want either.”
Lucille leaned against the workbench. “Sedric, all you have to do is trust that I know how to deal with them. I suspected this as soon as you mentioned the ‘Dawn Dissenters’ to me and have been controlling the flow of information as well as I can.” She spread her gloved hands. “I have enough power to prevent them from taking you against your will.”
Sedric studied her carefully and then sighed. He rubbed his neck. “..uh, thanks.” He turned to the blueprints and diagrams on the table. “But what do I do about all these? I can’t even read them.”
Lucy hummed as she looked at them over her shoulder. “As I know the cipher for the code, I can potentially find an item of some kind to place the cipher in. That way you’ll be able to translate it all to study.”
“Study?” Sedric gained a worried frown. “But if all this technology is kept hidden by the Coalition… wouldn’t it be dangerous for me to learn it?”
Lucille pointed at him. “If your grandfather was paranoid enough to design a way to destroy the evidence of his connection to the Dawn Dissenters, yet didn’t destroy it before his death, then we have to assume he wanted you to learn this.”
“Hold up.” Sedric raised his hands to pause her. “Before you get the wrong impression, we didn’t have much ‘familial love’ between us, alright? He kept me fed and clothed under the guise of his ‘apprentice’ but I was barely a glorified servant. He heard that his estranged son and daughter-in-law had died, so he brought me along on his travels.” He glanced at the diagrams again. “The only possible reason he could’ve wanted me to learn these is so I would become another fanatical member of the Dawn Dissenters like he was.”
Lucille raised an eyebrow. “None of your words prove my statement wrong, Sedric.”
Sedric screwed up his face as he thought about it, but clicked his tongue and turned away. “So this is all just that crackpot old fool’s scheme.”
“No need to feel too upset. He likely wanted to ‘convert’ you to the Dawn Dissenters before he died, but life foiled that plan. You now have the ability to do whatever you wish with the knowledge of this technology,” Lucy commented.
Sedric gazed at her with wide eyes and then turned to look at the basement goods, a wicked grin growing on his face.
“Ah, but I would advise against spreading these blueprints around freely. If the Dawn Dissenters feel threatened they will remove the threat, regardless of your ‘Legendary’ status,” she warned.
He flinched and rubbed his neck. “…there goes my plans of petty revenge.”
“Not so petty if you get killed for it,” Scytale replied sarcastically. “Why would you bother trying to get revenge on a dead person anyway?”
Sedric, predictably, glared at the snake and rushed over to pull him away from the chest of items. “Go away. Those are mine.”
“Who says?”
“Me. The person who made and owns them.”
“Nuhuh! Lucy owns those items because they were made using her money!”
“W-Well…”
“You can continue arguing later,” Lucille interrupted. “As it is, three people are looking for us that we need to interact with before our lives become more complicated.”
Sedric gave her a strange look. “’We’?”
Lucille’s gaze went flat and she just pointed at the workshop door. Sedric flinched when the door was suddenly thrown open to slam against the wall, revealing a blonde-haired girl with her hands on her hips.
“I’ve found you! Look, the Prophetess of Fate has returned!” Annaliese smugly announced.
Lucy ran a hand down her face. “Great, Scytale has rubbed off on her…”
…
“Lucy! Show me your magic!”
Lucille ignored the girl and continued walking to her study, holding documents in her arms.
“I’ve always wanted to know what magic you can do ever since I found out you used illusions. Could you show me? Please?”
Lucy opened the door of her study and walked up to her desk to deposit the files down.
“Pleeeeeeaaaaaasssseeeeee-”
“Shut up.” Lucy hit the top of Annaliese’s head with a thick book, making the Prophetess belatedly duck and rub her sore head, looking upset.
“That was mean,” the girl said with a pout.
“I don’t care,” Lucy stated blandly. She turned to look at the steely-eyed guard leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. “Are you going to apprehend me for inflicting physical harm against your ward?”
“Physical harm?” Jasten Albrecht smirked and raised an eyebrow. “I couldn’t dare to apprehend the Aurelian Commission Head unless convincing evidence was collected against her. Annaliese, do you have a witness to this act of ‘physical harm’?”
Annaliese glared at them both. “What have I done for you to be annoying like this?!”
“Bothering me when I have work to do,” Lucille replied dryly. “Unfortunately, Annaliese, while you may have decided that the Aurelian Commission is your place of choice on your break, I can’t summon entertainment into your life at any time of the day. I have a job that needs doing.”
Annaliese narrowed her eyes. “Then why don’t you make Vincent do it? He’s there to help you, isn’t he?”
“I believe I would die of being overworked if I did Lucille’s share too,” a voice interjected.
Sir Albrecht looked over his shoulder to see Lucy’s silver-haired aide.
“Excuse me, Sir Albrecht,” Vincent stated politely.
The Paladin moved out of the way to let Vincent enter through the doorway with more documents in his hands. He placed them neatly on the table near his own armchair and turned to the Prophetess. “Lucille already does more work than me even when she’s spent half the day on another plane,” he said with amusement.
“You’ve heard it from Vincent yourself.” Lucy placed her gloved hands on Annaliese’s shoulders and turned her around to gently push her out the door. “I’m not saying you won’t see me today, but just give me a bit of time to deal with my work.”
The blonde-haired girl groaned but had the door shut behind her after her guard had stepped through. Annaliese pouted and stormed off down a hallway in the direction of Lucille’s living room.
Jasten Albrecht turned his head, paying attention to the actions of his other ward in Sedric’s workshop, but he followed the annoyed Prophetess to the living room. Then Annaliese marched over to one of the two couches and slumped on it. She rolled onto her stomach sideways with a pillow under her head.
Annaliese noticed that another person was in the room and blinked when she saw Hargrave sitting opposite her, reading a book. “Oh, hello Hargrave. I didn’t see you.”
The scarlet-haired man looked up. “Hello, Prophetess.”
Annaliese frowned. “It’s An-”
Jasten Albrecht covered her mouth before she could say anything. “It’s not.”
She turned her glare to the Paladin and then sighed, placing her chin on the pillow. She watched Hargrave silently as he returned to his book, and then she tilted her head. She sat up with the pillow on her lap and studied him.
“Hargrave…” she began hesitantly. “Why do you have a piece of wood stuck in your hair?”
“A piece of- wait.” He looked up and narrowed his eyes. “Where?”
Annaliese pointed. “In your braid. I see other bits too.”
Hargrave scowled and put the book down to try to shake out the splinters.
The blonde-haired Prophetess tilted her head. “Um… do you need a little help?’
“No, no, it’s… no, I’m fine,” Hargrave declined, glaring at one of his braids that he held in his hand. It had been more than twelve hours yet the evidence of the stairs’ destruction was still present.
Annaliese studied his hair with a strange expression. “Your haircut is… really uneven. And why is one braid longer than the other? Is it your preference?”
He gave her a slightly exasperated look. “No, it’s not my preference. It’s just… how it ended up.”
Annaliese hummed, having an idea. She glanced at one of the chest of drawers in the room and then back at him. “Hargrave, are you sure you don’t need help with your hair?”
“Uh… no, I’m sure I don’t,” he replied firmly.
Annaliese stood up. “Are you absolutely certain? I think I can help you a lot if you just let me!”
“…no thank you,” Hargrave replied warily, feeling somewhat threatened by the girl’s sudden enthusiasm.
“No, I can definitely help you! I’m sure if I look in one of these drawers, I’ll find a pair. Just wait right there…”
Hargrave slowly got up from the couch, planning on leaving quickly and quietly as Jasten Albrecht watched with one eyebrow raised. Then footsteps behind Hargrave made him freeze and he turned around to see a certain blonde-haired Prophetess menacingly holding a pair of scissors.
“Hargrave.” Annaliese narrowed her eyes and snipped the two blades. “Sit.”