12. Mystery Girl I

Pria resurfaced like a stoic. She dragged Reimallia back to land, who was coughing and freezing and shivering. The furs that covered her were left under the river.

Kal acted fast. “I’ll be taking off those clothes. Slap me in the cheeks later, Lady Reimallia.”

And he tried to do it with as much dignity and respect as possible—which wasn’t much, considering he was in a hurry. He quickly covered her with his own furs, and stripped himself of his own leathers and clothes to dry her and cover her. He was left with his loincloth, a shivering arse, while Pria watched it all in silence.

“The beast core,” Reimallia said, trembling. Her voice was cracked. “I need the beast core.”

“Is it important?” Pria asked.

“Cultivation… I’m a cultivator…”

Pria stood at the edge of the frozen river. Kal stared dumbly. “Are you going in again? It’s dark underneath the water, you won’t be able to see it.”

She dived in. Reimallia clutched onto Kal and pulled herself up. “She’s acts like an elder,” Reimallia said. “Stoic, tired, bored…”

“Curious, are you?”

“Yes.”

It wasn’t long before Pria resurfaced the second time, graceful as she pulled herself to her feet, with nothing but wet cloths barely covering her. A chilling steam was rising out of her skin that felt more ethereal and mesmerizing, that Kal and Reimallia stared like blushing maidens. Pria dropped the beast core.

“I was wondering what’s taking you two so long,” Pria said, and left.

Kal lost his breath when he saw her back. She was fairly chiseled, cleverly hidden, but she was a hunter, and she loved longbows. There were demons watching them.

“Reimallia,” he breathed.

“I am aware.”

“Might we solve her mystery first before we solve yours?”

“…I suppose my cultivation can wait.”

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The next day, Reimallia was covered in blankets in Kal’s bedroom, while he paced and often looked around outside, keeping watch of Pria’s whereabouts. She was sweeping the front yard.

“I presume you must have some kindling of a plan?” she said. “She is quite secretive.”

“Not for long. There’s two of us, hidden in plain sight with a blind Pria. She won’t stand a chance. She’s willfully doing her duties, which makes our position much more advantageous. All that requires is to plan our ambush efficiently. Have you broken your fast?”

She shook her head. “You haven’t seen me leave the room, have you?” She laid down and snugged the pillows tightly. “You have such a nice bed. I’ve forgotten what it feels like to sleep on a mattress. And you make your companions sleep on hard floor.”

“We’re companions now?”

“You’ll be pleased to know that I’ve decided to temporarily halt our conflict. I ought to sleep here as well. Permanently.”

The only reason he’d decided to offer her his bed was due to her chilled to the bone yesterday. He slept in her room that night. “You did suffer through so much.”

She looked displeased. “A good man Kallarius Val Sorvenn is that he’s willing to sleep like a destitute in his own home while his guests are treated with silver spoons and wines in their goblets. There’s a story for that and it often ends in tragedy. Stop pitying me. I’m a cultivator.”

“You’re a mortal. For now. And I’m treating you as such. A pair of hands and feet is still a utility, regardless if you’re a cultivator or not. Take the bed until you’ve recovered, Lady Reimallia.”

She yawned and turned to her side. She was staring outside the window. Kal decided to sit down at the study table. “Must be awful having to pronounce my name. Too long, and too formal. It’s Lady Rei for you,” she said quietly. “Well, there is one other option,” she let out a mischievous smile. “Lie next to your enemy so I can slit your throat while you sleep.”

He laughed. “I’m glad you’ve warmed enough to jest around me,” he said. He raised the empty goblet and swirled it, letting sunlight touch. “But I’m afraid I can’t entertain that offer for an obvious reason, and for another. I was to be betrothed once.” He heard a squeal. “What was that?”

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He looked around the room, but he couldn’t find where it belonged.

“Nothing. Go on.” She was staring intently at him. “How old were you when you were betrothed? How old were you when you died?”

“I was eighteen then. She was two years older than me, and I loved her. That was right before the war started.”

“Three years ago… at the 79th year of the Emperor’s rule, he attacked the Almorian Republic. You were eighteen then. You died at—nineteen?”

“I don’t wish to talk about that time.”

“What about your betrothed?”

“What about her?”

“Heavens, save me from this fool. Talk about her. What did she look like? Were you friends? Who courted who first?”

He sighed. “It’s a pointless, irrelevant story.”

She threw a pillow at him. He caught it. “Is the girl you loved irrelevant?”

He looked up, surprised, and felt himself flush. “She’s—no. She was the only one who…” —didn’t fear me. “Who knew me for who I was. Do I appear kind to you, Lady Rei? I hope so. She must be possessing me, to appear to you and Lady Pria like this. She is my compass.”

“Is she… did she pass away?”

He never saw it. “I don’t know,” he cleared his throat. “But I have learned from my peers how to court a woman. And Lady Pria is one. I think. She’s as prickly as a saw, but she is still vulnerable to charms—“ he smiled. “—and love is often willfully blind.”

She gasped. “That is your plan?”

“Well? Are you amazed?”

She jumped off the bed and walked over to him, grabbing him by his shoulders. Her sudden enthusiasm rattled him for quite a bit. “I would love to hear more of the future this tale. Romance—here in the north, where two people share each other’s warmth in the face of something so dreadfully and murderously cold.”

“Uh. Tale? This isn’t some romantic tale I’m hoping for. Remember what we’re planning for.”

“Oh, stick your plan up your arse. That will move to be a secondary objective.”

“Lady Rei…”

“And if you hurt Pria, I really will slice your throat. And that’s a promise.”

That was a frightening smile, and a very softspoken threat.

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Our objective is to—err—make her fall for me, he had said under Lady Rei’s watchful gaze. And um. Find out who she is by making her talk about herself. Our plan has three phases. The first phase is a Forced March. We arm ourselves on the battlefield we choose, not hers. We will first exhaust Pria’s stamina, which I hope will make her more receptive to our kindness once we extend it.

Phase One: Forced March

Kal held up the candle. “I’ve never been to the basement,” he sniffed, and flinched. He cupped his hand to the cloth on his mouth. “Is that the monkey dragon?”

“And the black demon,” Reimallia said. “I didn’t kill it. I had hoped it might be of some use, but if it starts moving, we’ll have to kill it.”

He walked closer to it. The black demon looked like a deformed baby with black horns. It thumped every second like a heartbeat, extending its veins across the monkey dragon.

“Pria stopped storing food here for obvious reasons,” she said. “But there is another reason why.”

“Rats,” he said.

“Pests, insects. This place is sterile. There’s only the little monster here and the oil.”

“Do we have the capacity to kill it? We might be able to use the oil.”

“I have tried, but the oil here don’t light up.”

He looked around until he found a half-full barrel of oil. He cleared his throat. “You may tip it over if you wish,” he said, hesitating.

“This is your plan and your role.”

“If you ever ask me about my betrothed, I will purposely withhold information about our meetings so you always don’t capture the full colors of our painting.”

Upon saying that, Lady Rei was standing so still he could mistake her for a statue. She was expressionless now, with both eyes looking at him fully. “Do not mistake my civility for weakness, Kallarius Val Sorvenn. I am not one to be demanded around.”

He laughed dryly. “Must I be the one to do it?”

She gave a nod, and this time he tipped the barrel over.

“Pria,” Kal said. He told Pria about the mess in the basemenet, and that she would have to clean up all that oil. She didn’t blink nor be surprised. She had brought a bucket and a mop with her, which made Kal incredibly guilty.

“She’s going to clean all those oil?” He whispered. “I would have gutted my superior.”

Kal stared at the trapdoor, and the stairs leading down to the basement. He stepped forward—and was stopped by a callous hand, who pulled him back.

“If you go back down there, all our plan will have been for nothing.”

Kal stared at her, then turned back to the basement. “She needs our help—“

He felt it first—his neck was pulled, and he was thrown on the ground, pinned down on the neck by Reimallia who had no intention of letting go.

“This is a necessary sacrifice,” she told him. “Our objective depends on her suffering. You planned this, Lahrs. It was the story you started, so finish it through the end.”

Kal bit his lip, but eventually he softened his position, conceding it. “The blood on my hands,” he said. “It will never wash away. Like the oil she was wiping clean. Imagine all that grease, Lady Rei. How many hours—days, it would take her to flush it all out? And that smell…”

“I don’t need to be reminded,” Lady Rei said weakly. She hadn’t weakened her gripo n him. “We should remind ourselves that what she’s doing is a thankless service, and that we ought to prostate ourselves at her feet with every courtesy we could think of once she frees herself off that hellhole,” she sighed mournfully. “I mean—all that oil…”

And grease, he thought. Slimy, sticky, and gets into your nose. She wouldn’t be able to wipe her face with it too, and being so dark.

He wanted to help her. Lady Rei surely desired as well as he did, and leaving lady Pria down there would be an act of cruelty. It would be akin to a betrayal of his own belief in the highest order.

“Will a similar choice happen again in the future?” He asked her. “Where there are no alternatives but the one we chose before us, and we have to decide between one terrible decision over another terrible decision… which one do we ought to choose?”

Help her, and lose all what he and Lady Rei had planned from the beginning. Continue with the plan, and his dignity would whittle down, and his betrothed would not have looked at him well.

There was silence for a moment. Lady Rei stared at the trapdoor, then, “Whichever helps us sleep best at night.”

That was the deciding point for him. I mean—all that grease…