Thank you Ruby Slippers for the ko-fi (our first ko-fi :D)! Here's an extra chapter ♥♥
Chapter 85:
We will meet again
The figure led Silas towards a small town towards the south east, a town Silas could not remember. Even the name felt unfamiliar to him, and that made him uncomfortable. The distance from the forest was not far, but Silas had been traveling just far enough to the west where he could have missed the town entirely. In a way, he was thankful to Malcolm for sending his servant, but he also found it alarming that the servant was able to track him so quickly. Rather than accidentally finding him in the woods as they did, it was more likely the figure had been tailing him for some time. While Silas found it strange, the figure refused to remove their hood, covering their identity. Silas took note of this, not at all shocked. It was in the same vein of Silas himself, who kept his human disguise on, even though the figure reassured him he was safe to remove it if he wanted to. When Silas refused, they did not push him further.
Instead, the pair rode closely together in silence, hardly taking the time to look at the trees along the road as they pushed their horses forward. The silence allowed Silas some time to think, and he pondered the things that had happened since the two met.
“So,” Silas shouted to the figure, trying to stretch his voice over the forest whizzing by them, “How did you know who I was?” The sound of horse hooves muffled his voice, but the figure still could hear him.
The face hidden behind the cloak smiled, and Silas wondered to himself how they could possibly comfortably ride their horse with the piece of fabric covering their face, “There are things about you even your mana cannot hide. Though,” the cloak rustled violently in the wind as they turned their head. Silas had to resist the sudden urge to flick their hood out of their face, revealing his guide’s identity. The figure continued, “If your mana was stronger, you would be able to conceal much more. Besides, as I’ve said, I’ve been waiting for you.”
Silas frowned, annoyed by the answer he received. He wanted to speak more to his cloaked guide, to ask them how they knew he had weakened mana, but they turned back forward, making it clear they had no interest in speaking more.
Staring at the back of the figure’s head, Silas’s eyes narrowed. How much does this person know? How much does Duke Godfreed know? Silas thought to himself as the figure rode their horse, leading Silas forward into a clearing. The guide took this time to pull back on their reins, slowing their horse. Silas followed suit, closely watching his new companion, closely listening for any odd noises.
The figure stretched their arm outward, pointing towards the distance, “The town isn’t far. You can probably see it from here if you strain your eyes.”
“And what’s there?” Silas asked, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear his guide say it. The guide smirked, seeming to realize Silas’s plan.
“What you’ve come here to find.” They said vaguely.
“Which would be?” Silas pushed forward, refusing this time to accept his guide’s avoidance on the subject.
“I don’t know. That’s something only you can answer.” The figure paused, their legs kicking into the sides of their horse to encourage it forward, “Help to save your family? To get revenge against the people who wronged you? To kill the one person that fanned the flames of your suffering?” Each word was slowly dragged out, clawing under Silas’s skin and worming up through his veins, “Or maybe that’s something even you can’t answer right now?”
“I want what’s right.” Silas said after a long pause, also encouraging his horse forward, “No matter what that means.”
“That,” The guide said, their voice distant, “Is something the duke can provide.”
“Then I’m glad he encouraged you to stay the extra day.” Silas said dryly, causing them to laugh in response.
Not long after their talk, they slowly strolled towards the entrance of the town. The town was small and quiet, with guards scattered through the secluded streets. There were no gates to stop new travelers from passing through, and no guards stationed at any main entrance. Silas had heard of towns like this when he was a young child. Towns that you did not enter unless you had business there. There was a reason why the guards were scarce and the villagers were even more so. Still, Silas thought to himself that it would make it much easier to escape the town if things were to go wrong during his discussion with the duke.
The cloaked figure slowed their horse after the two passed multiple buildings, stopping in front of a small, indistinguishable building that was uncomfortably placed between two others. On either side of the building were dark alleys, with the shadows creeping out into the bright main street. The guide looked back at Silas and pointed at the middle building, their voice low.
“He is waiting for you in the bar. Rein your horse in front and go down the alley to the left of the building. At the end of the alley, there is a red door. Knock on it, and when it opens, let them know Valia has arrived. Then you will be taken to him.”
“You’re leaving me here?” Silas asked, his brow raised as he glanced at the bar. It was an odd building, shorter than the two surrounding it, with tired, warping wood holding the building together. The few windows installed had the curtains pulled, with no way to look inside. Silas imagined that if there was such a place as purgatory or hell, this building would be the gateway.
“Do not let the building frighten you. It’s much better inside.” The guide’s horse shook its head, and they hummed to the horse while patting its neck, “Our horses need rest. I am leaving you here.” The guide clicked their horse, but turned back to Silas once more as the distance between them grew, “He is waiting inside, but you can still turn around. No one would blame you for leaving.”
“Thank you, but it's too late for that.” Silas said, guiding his horse towards the bar entrance.
“May the gods protect you.” The guide said with one final smile before turning forward again in their saddle. Silas nodded at the words and turned his attention back to the bar.
I don’t need the gods protection, but the humans who hurt my family will very soon. Silas thought dangerously, his green eyes darkening as he guided his horse to the bar front, his eyes glaring down the alley, towards the ominous red door.
Wait for me, Prince Clarence, because we will meet again.
…
The day had just broken through the sky, and Olicia slammed her suitcase shut, pressing all of her weight on her elbow as she forced the buckle closed with a grunt. When she heard the familiar locking sound, she sighed and rolled off her luggage, sitting next to it and glaring at the overfilled suitcase.
“Why are you so difficult to close?” Olicia asked the suitcase as she placed a hand on the soft leather exterior, “Is it because I’m tired? Or because you’re old?”
“Did you say something, Ma’am?” One of Olicia’s new maids asked as she stepped into Olicia’s bedroom, her arms full of fresh bedding. On the Yursinean’s queen’s demand, all of the previous staff working with or around the bridal candidates were fired. There were no exceptions. Hundreds of staff members were immediately sent home, and, until the new staff arrived, the queen hand selected the staff now taking care of the young women.
Still, everything was done in absolute secret. It was told to everyone that was not immediately involved in the recent incident that with the approaching engagement ball, where the bridal candidate who was selected to become the crown prince’s fiancée would be announced, that security was the highest priority, and steps were being taken to ensure that. No one dared question the queen, though rumors were whispered among the brave.
Olicia straightened her back and pushed her overstuffed suitcase away from her, as if to hide her shameful packing, “Uh, yes. My suitcase is packed. Can you please take it to the coach?”
“Ma’am, please let me do things like that!” The maid chided as she hurried into the room, placing the bedding aside as she looked at the sorry suitcase, bursting at the seams with ill-packed items, “You are a lady. It’s not appropriate for you to do such menial labor.” The teasing chastisement, which usually Olicia would have laughed at, immediately fueled a bubbling anger in the quiet young woman.
“Who cares?” Olicia snapped, rising to her feet as her face dropped in contempt and anger, “I’m leaving anyway! Besides, I don’t need you questioning my every step!” The maid jumped by Olicia’s sudden anger, and Olicia immediately regretted her outburst, looking down in embarrassment and shame as she said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. My suitcase is already packed, so please take it to the carriage.”
The maid’s fingers trembled as she nodded meekly in response, quickly grabbing the heavy suitcase handle and hurrying out of the room. Olicia, who rose to her feet when she yelled, now sat back down on her bed, sighing heavily in an attempt to hold back her tears. Ever since they had gotten back from the forest that fateful day, Olicia had an overwhelmingly difficult time controlling her temper. Even the smallest things, such as a dropped tea cup, could easily throw Olicia into a rage. The same Olicia, who, before this, never had such a raw outburst. She sighed again, her breath shakingly leaving her mouth as she looked up, her eyes misting.
Hopefully these awful feelings will stay behind in this evil place.
“Judging by how that maid just ran down the hall, this isn’t a good time.” Olicia squeezed her eyes shut, covering the leaking tears with her arm as she heard the voice of the person she wanted to see the least at the moment enter her room from her open door, which he shut behind him. “Unfortunately, I don’t have a choice, since I heard you’re leaving.”
“Go away, Alywin.” Olicia said weakly, her voice cracking as a tear slid down her cheek. She turned away, refusing to let him see her cry.
Hearing Olicia’s voice, Alywin’s jovial attitude immediately hardened as he said, “Are you really planning on leaving? The engagement ball is only a few days away. If you can wait it out-”
“You are joking with me, right?” Olicia snapped, angrily wiping the tears off her face. She turned to Alywin, her eyes and cheeks red, “‘If I can wait it out’? How dare you say such a thing to me, after everything you’ve put me through! This is your fault! Yours and that bastard’s!”
Alywin frowned. Guilt ate at him, a feeling he was wholly unfamiliar with, as he stared at Olicia. Her bent back and broken spirit only fueled the awful feeling, “I-” Alywin suddenly felt very uncomfortable. He wanted to leave, but his pride and guilt would not let him, “I’m sorry.”
“If you’re so sorry, then get out.” Olicia mumbled, her hands clenched tightly. When Alywin stepped forward, opening his mouth as he tried to explain, Olicia screamed, “Did you not hear me?! I said, ‘Get out!” Incensed by his presence, Olicia grabbed the vase full of native Yursinean lilacs on her nightstand and threw it with all her might in Alywin’s direction. However, because of her lack of ability and blurry vision from her angry tears, her aim was poor, and the vase shattered into pieces after it struck the wall to Alywin’s right.
A silence settled over them as Olicia realized what she had done. Alywin stared at Olicia, bewildered, looking for an explanation, but Olicia refused to look at him. Each one took the silence as a moment of reflection.
Finally, Alywin awkwardly cleared his throat, “You don’t have to forgive me, but I am really sorry. I didn’t realize what Clarence had planned until it was too late. That’s my fault. I’m sorry for dragging you into this.” Alywin sighed, running a hand over his face as he fumbled over his words, “I don’t even know what I’m doing here. I heard you were leaving, and I wanted to warn you that if you leave, rumors will spread. It could hurt your country’s-”
“Are you done?” Olicia asked, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm her anger, “Did you really just come here in a sad attempt to rid yourself of some of the guilt of Annmaria’s murder? No, Alywin. I will not forgive you,” Olicia rose to her feet, making wide strides to Alywin as he backed up into the wall, his feet crunching under the broken glass, “Just like I have to, you will have to live with the guilt of what you let happen.” Olicia’s wild gaze startled Alywin. It felt as though she was staring through him, as if she could not even see him, “Now get out, because if you stay, I will throw something else at you, and this time, I will not miss.” Olicia stepped back, turning her back to Alywin in the process. Alywin took the opportunity to slip out of the room, his usually collected demeanor shattering as his body violently shook. He hurried away, not even acknowledging the nearby staff who bowed and curtseyed as he exited the foyer.
As Alywin stepped out of the marchioness’s room, his face raged with guilt, a familiar figure watched him race away from the room and towards the north-end of the queen’s palace, leading to the hallway to the royal library. The figure stopped for a moment, hugging a tall while pillar with a small frown, their brows wrinkled in regret.
It must be true then. Philomena thought, holding the sides of her ruffled white dress. She is leaving. Though her dress was extravagant as always, there was a dullness hanging in the air that ate away at the splendid atmosphere, leaving the candidates to feel inferior, even dressed in their richest gowns. Even the prideful Philomena felt affected by the heaviness, leaving her to only braid her long hair behind her head, embellishing it with only the simplest accessories.
In Maarit Country, after the death of a comrade, family and friends would wear their hair in a simple braid and embellish it with black flowers, mourning until the flowers eventually wilted and fell from their locks of hair. While Annmaria was not a comrade to Philomena, Philomena could hardly stand the pompous, mean countess, there were still some lingering feelings of loss, knowing the young woman died such a horrific, painful death. As one of the few people who witnessed the countess's final moments, Philomena felt it was only right to mourn the young woman’s death.
None of the candidates had spoken to each other once they returned to the palace after the hunt. Even though Philomena had built up the courage to go speak to Sagara and Charlotte repeatedly, she always found herself at a loss for what to say, and would turn around and go back to her room at the last moment every time. She felt like a coward, but she was terrified of what they would say to her, or what she might say to them. She did not want to talk about what happened, but she knew Sagara and Charlotte would want to discuss it. The thought scared her.
So instead, Philomena stayed in her room or went on walks in the queen’s garden. Sometimes on her walks, she would walk past the window to Olicia’s room, but Philomena felt no urge to even try to speak to Olicia, so she did not attempt to see the marchioness at all. Philomena had expected that the marchioness would try to reach out to her to apologize, but Olicia had remained holed up in her room, not even leaving to eat. Food had to be brought to her room three times a day, but three times a day, the untouched tray would be returned to the kitchen.
Worry began to eat at Philomena as she watched untouched tray after untouched tray leave the marchioness’s room. Though Philomena was angry and hurt by Olicia’s betrayal, she still found herself worried about her past friend. When the worry began to eat away at her, Philomena tried to ask her maids about the marchioness’s condition, but they refused to speak about her. This was most likely by decree of the queen, who was aware of Olicia’s condition, and refused to let any more rumors leave the palace grounds.
But rumors always had a way of slipping out of even the tightest grip. There were rumors quickly spreading in hushed tones that Olicia was packing to return to the Faelfier kingdom, essentially forfeiting her candidacy for the throne. Relations between the Faelfier and the Yursear kingdoms were already poor, because of the Faelfier kingdom taking in fleeing elves that the Yursear kingdom wanted to arrest. For Olicia, who was the representative of the Faelfier kingdom, to leave so abruptly, it would further strain the frail relationship between the two countries. This further ate away at Philomena, who had begun watching the marchioness’s bedroom door.
If she comes out, I’ll accidently bump into her. That way, I can see how she’s doing without having to speak to her. Philomena thought to herself with a nod, reassured by her plan. But when she watched Alywin storm out of Olicia’s room, his face red with anger and surprise and his body shaking, Philomena knew she could not wait for Olicia to emerge.
Philomena took a deep breath, releasing her dress and smoothing the wrinkles that formed from her tight grip, Okay, just go knock on the door. That way you can see how she is and leave immediately. Oh, but maybe I should bring something with me, so it’s not awkward? I have some cookies in my room I haven’t eaten, and Olicia hasn’t eaten in a few days. Philomena pondered to herself, glancing back at her room. She then scoffed and shook her head rapidly, What am I thinking?! She is doing this to herself! She put all of us in danger for her own selfish reasons! She should starve!
Philomena glanced once more back to her room, then Olicia’s door, the worry eating away at her gentle heart. Oh, fine! But only a few cookies! She probably won’t eat them anyway! Philomena thought to herself as she turned towards her maid, giving her the instructions.
“And use one of my plain handkerchiefs to wrap them! And only grab a few!” Philomena said quickly, trying to smooth her hair as her maid nodded knowingly. As the maid hurried to Philomena’s room, Philomena tried to calm her painfully racing heart. Though she would not admit it, she was nervous. This was the first time since the hunt that she had spoken to Olicia. And though she was still indescribably angry at the marchioness, a small part of her missed her friend.
In a short time, the maid returned with the wrapped cookies, and Philomena took them begrudgingly.
“Would you like me to go with you, Your Majesty?” The maid asked, but Philomena shook her head.
“No, this will be quick, so there’s no need.” Philomena managed to say confidently, but the stiff walk to Olicia’s door gave away her nervousness. She held the cookies, which felt suddenly like a ton of bricks, in one hand and knocked on the door with the other.
Maybe I should just leave the cookies at the door and go? Philomena thought to herself, her mind racing as she nervously tapped her foot, But then I won’t see her for myself. Before Philomena could come to a decision, it was made for her. The door creaked open, seemingly on its own, before a bent head peeked over the side of the door.
“Yes?” The weak voice asked meekly.
“Olicia?!” Philomena could not hide her shock at the young marchioness’s ragged appearance. Her hair was barely tied back, with wild strays flailing all over her tired, puffy, red face. Philomena hardly recognized the marchioness, whose clothes were frumpy and wrinkled, sitting oddly on her pale, sickly body.
“Good morning, Princess Lambros.” Olicia said, keeping the door only cracked, pulling away from the door to hide her appearance behind the frame.
“Good morning,” Philomena replied, looking over Olicia with concern, “I heard you were leaving, so I brought you something to take with you. You have a long journey ahead.” Philomena said with a weak laugh, holding out the handkerchief of cookies. Olicia did not laugh, but she stuck out her hands, her pale hands taking the cookies with a small, forced smile.
“Thank you.” Olicia said, pushing the door closed, “I should get back to packing.”
“Wait!” Philomena said abruptly, placing her hand on the closing door to stop it, “Why don’t I help you? It can be a lot of work for one person.”
“It’s alright. I’m almost done.” Olicia said, stepping away from the door and shutting it behind her. Philomena stood in front of the closed door, shocked and disheartened. She blinked, trying to understand the frail, sickly woman in front of her.
That couldn’t have possibly been Olicia. That must have been a maid. Philomena thought, her hands clenching the sides of her dress again. Philomena looked down at her dressy white heels, the pointed tips scuffed with dirt. She stared at the small smudges of dirt, which she must have gotten from her walk in the garden, and took a deep breath, trying to control her shaking shoulders. There’s no way that she’d let herself look like that.
“Ma’am, are you ready to head back to your room?” Philomena’s maid asked, curtsying next to her. Philomena jumped, shocked by her sudden appearance, “Oh goodness, Your Majesty, your shoes are filthy! Let’s go change your outfit right now, okay?” The maid placed two gentle hands on Philomena’s shoulders, guiding her away from the door and back to her room, “Besides, you want to look your best when you bid your friend farewell, don’t you?” The maid smiled kindly, but Philomena flinched.
“But I already said goodbye just then.” Philomena said shyly, suddenly embarrassed.
“That doesn’t mean you won’t see her again before she leaves.” The maid patted Philomena’s shoulder, closing the door behind them as they entered Philomena’s room. Philomena glanced back once more, looking out into the foyer where she could see the corner of Olicia’s door. It was shut. Philomena sighed and looked down. She felt like she had so much to say, but there was nothing she could say at the moment.
I can’t believe myself. I had so much I wanted to say to her, but all I did was give her cookies she probably won’t even eat. I guess, in the end, I am a coward. Philomena thought coldly to herself as the maid summoned other maids to help change their mistress into a new outfit.
…
Bonus chapter! Chapter 86 will be updated as usual on Saturday. With our current pace, it should be done soon as well. Huge thanks to Hunny for powering through this at an ungodly speed ♥ She's a doll. Also, your comments have been hilarious to read as well! Thanks for the encouragement!
As we're talking about red doors, I was laughing with Hunny about a short story I wrote in Spanish about depression, which you can read here on my deviantart: https://sta.sh/02afkevpq1z9 Sorry, Spanish is not my first language, so it's definitely stiff and could use better editing (my profesora at the time absolutely roasted me for that ahaha). It reads like a depressive fever dream, and it really reminded me of the current events of YMtK.
I'll be slow to respond to things, as I'm at work currently, but thank you all again, and I hope you enjoy this chapter ♥
