Chapter 92:
I missed you
The conversation between the duke and the prince was friendly, the two laughing and conversing over time long passed, however the words shared between the two were lukewarm, no longer holding the warmth of the two young cousins who had gotten along quite well as children. Now that Clarence was only weeks away from inheriting the throne, the power imbalance between the two was highlighted. Yet Malcolm acted as if nothing was different than before, and Clarence obliged Malcolm’s jovial demeanor with polite conversation. He laughed and joked with his amused cousin, but his thoughts focused on other topics, such as the bridal selection. Alywin spoke lightly and reminisced with the two men, feeling a wave of nausea bubbling in the bottom of his stomach.
“I could not help but notice you have not spoken much, Alywin.” Malcolm’s words dragged with a small draw, “It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other, I’m surprised you aren’t saying more.” Malcolm’s words hinted at something foreign to Clarence, but as he glanced over at Alywin, Alywin’s tightened, pale expression expressed he understood Malcolm’s meaning perfectly.
Alywin did mention they had bad blood between them, but when I told him I was meeting Malcolm, he insisted on sitting in on our meeting.
“I’m just surprised. You look so much older than when I last saw you, I hardly recognized you.” Alywin smiled coldly, his eyes narrowing, “It must be all the traveling you’ve been doing. All those experiences must have made you look like a wise old man.”
Clarence’s eyes widened in shock at Alywin’s outright hostility. Clarence was used to Alywin’s sharp tongue and short temper, but his aggression was something Clarence did not see often. Clarence glanced over at Malcolm, who also seemed shocked by Alywin’s harsh words.
After a minute of awkward silence passed between the three of them, no one saying a word, Malcolm burst out into laughter.
As he wiped away a tear that came to his eye from his hard laughter, Malcolm said, “There’s the fiery temper I fondly remember.”
“Really? Because it sounds like your memory is slipping with age.” Alywin said, placing his hands at his side as he slid over in his seat towards Clarence. With a small sigh, Alywin pressed his chest against Clarence’s arm, lifting his hands to gently grasp Clarence’s bicep. He smiled up at Clarence, who, used to Alywin’s demonstrative behavior, remained unflinching at Alywin’s obvious flirtation. Alywin pressed himself harder against Clarence as he turned his head towards Malcolm with a haughty smirk, “Though if you want to know about me, you could ask the crown prince. Him and I have gotten very familiar with each other since you’ve been gone.”
Malcolm’s face remained relaxed, but something behind his expression churned darkly, threatening to destroy the thin mask containing it with very little provocation.
“Alywin, I don’t think that’s an appropriate way to treat the crown prince. He will soon be the king of our great kingdom.” Malcolm said calmly. However, Clarence managed to catch the tiniest twitch in Malcolm’s hand as Malcolm smiled at the two of them.
“I appreciate your concern, but Clarence lets me do this all the time, don’t you Clarence?” Alywin said as he glanced up at Clarence. Clarence sighed, grabbing Alywin’s hands that clung to his arm as he gave Alywin a look.
While Alywin was unconcerned about provoking Malcolm, Clarence did not want to deal with the repercussions of angering his cousin. It was crucial to Clarence that everything went perfectly today.
“Alywin, I think you’re making Malcolm uncomfortable.” Clarence chided, pulling Alywin’s hand off of his arm as Alywin gave him a sour look.
“So now you’re embarrassed by having someone see us?” Alywin said with a pout, “It never bothered you before.”
“Yes, I am uncomfortable. I don’t think it’s appropriate for someone who is about to be engaged to be partaking in such actions with someone other than his fiancée.” Malcolm said, his relaxed tone becoming uneven.
Alywin laughed, his dry laughter biting, “That’s interesting coming from someone with quite the promiscuous reputation around the kingdom.”
Malcolm laughed sharply in response, “That’s funny, coming with someone who is known around the palace as the rich man’s whore, opening his legs to anyone who can get him ahead.” Malcolm said, his smile having just as sharp of a bite as Alywin’s laugh.
“Enough, both of you!” Clarence snapped, rising from his seat to get between the two.
“And yet no matter how much money or power you throw at me, I still wouldn’t touch you.” Alywin said, leaning forward to sneer at Malcolm, who sat back in his seat with a cracking smirk on his face.
“Stop it!” Clarence shouted, glaring back and forth as his chest heaved.
“Fine, the ‘rich man’s whore’ is leaving.” Alywin said, abruptly rising to his feet. Alywin turned towards Clarence, saying in a slow, low tone, “Let me know if there’s any money or power you want to give me, Clarence.” Alywin then walked out, refusing to look at Malcolm as he walked out with his head high.
The door slammed shut, the loud crack of the wood echoing throughout the large room. The silence that was left behind was practically unbearable for Clarence and Malcolm, who both reeled from the heat and anger from the argument.
“I apologize for my outburst.” Malcolm said coolly, smoothing his hair back with his hand, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to return to my room. I’m sure my companion is becoming impatient waiting for me.” Malcolm rose to his feet, shallowly bowing before he hurried out of the room, his expression growing increasingly dark as he turned his back to Clarence.
Once Malcolm exited the room, Clarence sat down on the seat and sighed, bringing his hands up to his face as his shoulders drooped.
Malcolm, on the other hand, hurried down the hall, his loud stomps indicators of his immense, unwavering anger. His eyes constantly scanned the long, wide hallway, but all that he found was silence and emptiness.
He clenched his fists, his anger bubbling.
Usually, he was unshakable. It took years of practice and work to be able to stay so calm in the face of confrontation and ridicule, but with the flick of a wrist, Alywin had taken that away from him.
Malcolm felt so angry and foolish.
Malcolm turned the corner, massaging the front of his forehead as he felt an intense headache forming. He did not even realize until the hand was clenching his lapel that someone was in front of him. His hands shot out instinctively until he realized who had grabbed his lapel, turning him and pushing him against the wall with a thud.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Malcolm asked, his voice heated.
“What do you think?” Alywin asked, glaring up to Malcolm as he leaned the weight of his body against the duke.
“Get your hands off me, Alywin.” Malcolm said, his anger radiating from every part of his body. His hands shook as he tried to control the urge to unleash his anger.
“I thought you missed me? You were certainly jealous of Clarence earlier.” Alywin said, his eyes twinkling as he pursed his lips.
“I’m too old for you now, you said so yourself.” Malcolm said sharply. He tried to stay strong, but as he looked down at Alywin’s face, which had not changed at all in the years they were separated, he felt his anger and willpower begin to crumble.
“You know I’ve always had a thing for older men.” Alywin said, pressing his chest against Malcolm’s as he released the grip he had on Malcolm’s lapel, resting his hands on Malcolm’s chest, “You forgive me, don’t you? I was frustrated, because in all these years, you haven’t written to me or come to see me. Of course I was angry at you. But seeing you now, it makes me realize how much I missed you.”
“Don’t.” Malcolm mumbled, feebly trying to stop Alywin as the last of his willpower crumbled. He stared down at Alywin’s pouting face, so nostalgic to him, and his heart wrenched.
“You’re right.” Alywin said with a sigh, pulling away from Malcolm, who shuddered at the sudden lack of warmth, “I need to go get ready for tonight anyway. Maybe we’ll see each other later tonight?” Alywin stepped away, but Malcolm grabbed his arm, pulling Alywin back towards him as they stepped back into the shadow of the hallway.
…
The halls were noisy, filled with the boisterous voices of nobles who were all waiting anxiously. Hours had passed since the confrontation between Alywin and Malcolm, and the buzz in the air was representative of the excitement of the ball that was mere hours from starting.
Silas walked with his back tall and straight, his demeanor that of a lofty Yursinean noble. As he passed by the other nobles, he lightly bowed his head in greeting, his eyes and expression flat and cold, bringing some distance with them as he strode past, his servants hastily following behind him. His heels clicked against the ground lightly as Silas strode forward in fast, short footsteps, attempting to keep his balance as he hurried down the main hall to the central wing of the palace, hoping to memorize the layout of the palace before the ball began, allowing him the chance to sneak away while the prince paraded through the ball, his soon-to-be-announced fiancée adorning his arm.
There was a trace of fear hiding at the bottom of Silas’s chest, but he swallowed it down, thinking of his young siblings' faces rather than the face of the prince he had saved from the palace so many years ago. When he thought of the prince, he felt ashamed, but he would not let it stop him anymore.
He would save them.
The plan is to meet with Eva during the ball. Silas would not forget her orders. While he and Eva did not always see eye to eye, her plans were thorough and her connections were invaluable. It was possible that, with her help, he may be able to leave the palace with his family rather than leaving with Duke Malcolm’s assistance. Knowing Eva, she won’t be happy when she sees me. Silas sighed quietly as his eyes scanned the hall, glancing at each and every window as he turned to the right, trailing down a narrower side hall.
“My lady, there isn’t much time left until the ball begins. The duke has asked us to prepare your dress.” The maid said as Silas walked forward, showing no intention to stop.
Silas’s dress fluttered as he continued striding forward, memorizing much of the layout of the palace, “I will only take a moment, Marie.” The maid jumped when Silas said her name, feeling uneasy at the tone of his voice. Using his mana, Silas was able to heighten his voice to a natural alto tone, however his Yursinean accent was his own, bringing forth a natural air of a full-blooded Yursinean citizen. “Once I finish enjoying the fresh air, you can take me back and dress me up however the duke wants.”
There were many hallways and many floors of the palace, but Silas was only interested in finding the path to the dungeon and any possible exits they could use to escape during the ball. Security would no doubt be heightened, and it would be difficult to slip out through the main floor. There would have to be a distraction to keep the other guests occupied, though Silas was not sure yet what that would be.
Knights were stationed in each hall, some covering the corners of the hallways in less noticeable spaces. As Silas walked by, the knights stood tall, their expressions fierce and cold as they defended the palace.
They are in groups of two today. In the elven army, they never had enough troops to support two soldiers per station, it seems the Yursear palace was sparing no expense to keep the palace safe. Disguising as a guard would be a poor idea then. They would recognize their companions quickly. It would be too risky to try and blend it, and it may lead to a battle Silas was not prepared to fight.
The quieter we can escape, the better. Silas’s eyes dimmed slightly as the black curls around his ears bobbed slightly with his movements. He sighed, lightly rubbing the corner of his temple as he thought of a plan to escape.
After rounding the majority of the main floor, Silas had memorized the layout of the palace. Using what he remembered from the past ten years, he was able to remember the basic layout of the upper floors, particularly the prince’s floor. Because the upper floors were closed off to guests, Silas could only pass by the stairs, smiling at the knights with a polite nod, as if he had just been looking for his room and gotten lost.
One of the knights smiled back at Silas, reminding him of when he was a young soldier much like that young man.
Silas stopped abruptly, his heels clicking to an audible stop as the girl in front of him stopped her movements as well, only a short distance away from each other.
The girl’s black hair was styled into long, silky strands, and her face was decorated with a light layer of makeup, full of warm shades for the approaching winter. Her eyelids were painted with a striking shade of gold, accentuating the shape of her eyes, and the girl’s dark complexion was warmed with a rosy shade of blush, and her lips were adorned with a warm red, appearing mature but fashionable, much like the gold sari the young woman wore.
A Khymalian noble. Silas thought to himself as he stared at the young woman he had almost bumped into. “My apologies.” With a short bow of his head, Silas apologized, his expression flat as his voice rang out in the empty hall, away from the buzzing crowds, filled only with the pair and their approaching servants.
The young woman smiled in response, her gold jewelry glittering under the candlelights as she said politely, “Excuse me-.” She lowered her head slightly in apology, then rose, her chin naturally lifting proudly, “I apologize. I don’t recognize you.”
Silas laughed, lifting a fan he was provided to his rouged lips, “That is not surprising. I am only a guest of someone attending.”
“I see.” The Khymalian noblewoman said with a beautiful smile, her cheeks rounding with her upturned lips, “It’s a pleasure to meet you then. My name is Sagara Naceri. I am the second daughter of the Kyhmalian king and a proud citizen of the Khymal Empire. And you are?”
“It is a true honor to be speaking with Khymalian royalty.” Silas said with a controlled curtsy. He had to control the sour expression that tried to mar his serene face. His annoyance rose with his careful plotting being interrupted, “I’m afraid I can share my name. My lips are simply unworthy to utter such unnecessary words to someone who is so much higher ranked than I am.” Silas wanted the least amount of people possible to know about his existence in the palace. The more people that knew his identity, the more likely he was to be caught.
“That’s not very fair.” Sagara said, reaching out her hand as a finger tapped the top of Silas’s opened fan. She used the heavy weight of her finger to push Silas’s fan down slightly, “I was kind enough to share my name. I think it’s only fair if you do the same.” Her eyes stared deeply at Silas’s rouged face, and Silas was quick to turn his head downward, though he held his fan high.
“Your Majesty.” A Yursinean maid said, stepping to Sagara’s side as she curtseyed, “You need to return to your room immediately. There is so much left to do to prepare for tonight, and there isn’t much time left.”
“I just waited to get some fresh air, that’s all.” Sagara said, removing her finger from Silas’s fan and placing her hands in front of her as she used a heavy stare to look Silas up and down.
“I will take my leave then, Your Majesty.” Silas said with a curtsy before he took the opportunity to escape.
Silas continued on his original path, this time his pace faster, as he passed the tall noblewoman. He strode past in his heels, his eyes focused forward as he continued to casually scan the area, walking in short steps until he reached the end of the hall. As he was about to continue forward, Marie, the maid, stopped him abruptly and reminded Silas of the time, cutting his escapade short. Silas was quickly returned to the room by the duke’s maid, her expression poor as drops of cold sweat lined her back. Her fingers trembled at the thought of being late. Marie, the dutiful maid, wanted to cry on the spot, but her dignity was too strong, and Silas obediently allowed her to return him to their room. He had all the information he would need, and he was worried about bumping into the Khymalian princess again. She had sharp eyes, and it felt with her stare alone that she knew everything about his identity and plans.
It unsettled Silas.
As Silas hurried away, Sagara stood in the middle of the hall, standing still as she held her fan in her left hand, her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked to the side towards her maid, who smiled back in response and began to lead Sagara forward. As they walked, Sagara’s fingers traced over the delicately embroidered train of her gown, the train’s fabric resting in the crook of her right arm.
A woman would never walk leading with her shoulders. And she had a surprisingly strong grip on her fan. It was practically impossible to move it while she was holding it. Sagara thought, quietly glancing over her shoulder at the traces of the figure as she continued, So, what is a man doing here? Though the fact piqued Sagara’s curiosity, there was no need to make trouble on the day of the marriage announcement, as the Khymal Empire considered it bad luck to have commotions occur on the day of a wedding announcement.
If anything, it was an ill omen for things to come, and Sagara had no interest in mixing herself with any more ill omens.
…
Silas sighed as the maids finally released him from his seat in front of the dressing table and stepped back to take in their hard work.
Marie’s eyes misted as the other maid cried out in glee, “Oh my, look how beautiful she looks!”
“And with only a few minutes to spare!” Marie said, sighing with happiness, “Once the duke comes back from whatever he’s doing, he can see his beautiful companion all done up.”
“Can I get up please?” Silas asked, glancing up at the two maids, who smiled widely.
“No, no! Just wait, Mistress! The ball is starting in less than an hour, so the duke will be here any minute!”
“And what better way to see your beautiful companion than to have her turn to you while she’s sitting elegantly in her seat!” The two maids squealed at each other as Silas sighed, turning back towards the dressing table mirror.
As if on cue, the door to the room opened, and Silas was unable to open his eyes, as the maids decided to apply more “final” touches of makeup to his eyelids. However, by the greetings from the maids and the sound of the door being closed behind the figure, Silas did not have to guess who it was.
“You’re finally back.” Silas said, his expression still, void of any emotion. He was finally able to open his eyes and turn his head towards Malcolm as the maids released their tight grip on his face, pulling away their brushes and puffs.
Malcolm’s earlier emotional outburst was nowhere to be seen. The angry flush on his cheeks had long since receded, but there was a hint of bliss that he could not hide resting in his brow. He could only disguise it by looking at Silas, whose costume was almost completed.
“Ah, you look quite dashing in that dress, my dear companion.” Malcolm said, approaching Silas, who sat, annoyed, in his seat.
Silas still had his eyes shut, his long eyelashes resting on his cheeks like fans. The dark brown eye shadow on his lids made his eyes appear larger than before, and the inner corner of his eyes was softened with a light shade of white. With his naturally pale skin, only a light layer of rosy rouge was added to his cheeks, and a shade of warm pink had adorned his lips, appearing glossy under the pale candlelight.
The dress he wore was a velvet fabric adorned with shallow patterns of lace on the edge of the dress. The main color of the dress was a deep navy blue, and the front of the dress had ivory fabric sewn into the bust and front skirt of the dress, providing a strong contrast of the fabric. The corset around his waist had been tightened, making it uncomfortable to move around, but as he tried to ask the maid to loosen it, she refused to and instead pulled the threading tighter, as if punishing Silas for his earlier escapades.
Once his dress had been arranged, his wig had been restyled and the curls laid just above his shoulders, the bangs resting lightly on his forehead. The curls made Silas’s already youthful features appear younger, making him appear to be the prince’s age. Even with his usual elven appearance, he was often mistaken for a teenager in the Faelfier Kingdom, so much so that he had become used to fighting with others about it. In this case, it would be very helpful for him.
Staring in the mirror at his unrecognizable self, Silas could not help but lift his finger and play with the gold and blue choker laced around his neck, touching the modest gem with the tips of his finger. “How much did this arrangement cost?” Silas asked curiously, pausing as he tried to find the right word.
The duke, hearing Silas’s question, waved his hand, “Do not worry about the costs. As long as my plan comes to fruition, the cost will be irrelevant.”
“You seem in an awfully good mood.” Silas said, raising his eyebrow at the beaming duke.
Malcolm stared forward, his lips twisted into a secretive smile as he responded, “Yes, I was able to see someone I missed dearly.”
Silas’s eyes widened as he looked at Malcolm’s dark expression, “That’s all? You seem overly giddy for just that.”
“Nevermind.” Malcolm said, his blissful expression back to normal, “Are you ready to go?”
The maids smiled brightly as Silas stood up from the dressing table, his hand resting on the top of the table as he steadied himself, finding himself taller than before with the heels the maids had prepared. After a short bit of practice, Silas found himself walking much more naturally, remembering what he had practiced with Meredith and Eva.
He lifted his arm, motioning for Silas to hold it as he said, looking towards the door. “It’s finally time for us to go.”
Malcolm was still wearing his black suit, but his hair had been carefully styled, pushing back his hair away from his forehead and tucking his long, black hair behind his head in a short ponytail. A silk ribbon held his hair back, the color the same as the man’s black hair. His golden eyes were happy, full of content, as if everything he had hoped for had finally come to fruition.
As Silas reached up his hand, his hands covered by a pair of short, white lace gloves, Malcolm took his hand in his. The tips of Silas’s fingers rested in Malcolm’s warm palm, and soon they were wrapped tightly in the duke’s hand, making the two appear as if they were truly as close as they appeared.
Marie followed behind Silas, carrying the train of his dress in her hands. While Silas wanted to carry the short train, Malcolm would not allow him. “No Yursinean noblewoman would carry her train during such an important event.” His words were short, leaving no room for argument. Silas wanted to refute his words, but he knew they were right, and he fell silent, smacking his lips shut with a frown.
As the pair approached the door to the room, anticipating their debut, Silas turned to Malcolm before he paused, his eyes focused on Malcolm’s forehead.
“One moment.” Silas reached up his hand, his hand lifting up to the duke’s forehead, using the back of his hand to push a strand of hair off of the duke’s forehead and back into his hair. Once the hair was moved, Silas retracted his hand and returned his gaze to the door, as if motioning for Malcolm to lead them out.
“If only my sweetheart were that caring.” Malcolm sighed, saying quietly with a laugh, “How lucky my cousin will be.” The smile on his face was taunting. Silas did not hear him, but the tone of his words was enough to make him frown deeper.
A male servant opened the door as two maids and a guard followed behind Malcolm and Silas. The hallway was quiet at the moment, but it would soon be noisy as more and more nobles had stepped through the halls to the main ballroom of the palace, standing, chatting, and eating small items as they changed gossip and pleasantries. Holding the crook of Malcolm’s arm with his hand, Silas walked with his back straight, looking forward with an air of nobility and distance, a layer of ice forming over his eyes as he stared at the large group of human nobles, gathered like groups of flies.
“Smile, honey.” Malcolm whispered as he turned to face Silas. “You have to look like you’re happy to be here with me, after all.”
Fighting the temptation to stomp his heel on Malcolm’s shiny shoe, Silas giggled and responded, turning to face Malcolm. “Tell me to smile again and I’ll give you a reason not to.” His free hand rested under his chin, making Silas appear docile and weak, but his words were cold and biting.
Malcolm laughed in response, as if what Silas had just said was something hilarious.
As the pair entered the hall, the front doors to the ballroom fell quiet for a moment before flurries of nobles began to walk towards Malcolm and his unknown companion, many of them older nobles hoping to gain some footing within the Godfreed family. The nobles were careful not to overstep their compliments and began to ask questions, many of them too afraid to ask directly what relationship Malcolm had with his companion.
“My, Duke Godfreed, it has been some time since we’ve last met!” An elderly count smiled and greeted Malcolm, his eyes moving from the social duke to the quiet, beautiful woman resting on his arm. “And who is your lovely companion?”
Silas looked towards Malcolm, smiling shyly, as if he were too nervous to introduce himself. Malcolm rubbed the back of Silas’s hand adoringly as he said, “This is Countess Caoimhe Darcy from the Southern border district bordering the Bethellian Kingdom.” Silas bowed his head to the noble with a formal curtsy. “This is Caoimhe’s first time attending a palace event, so she is quite nervous. There’s no need to be nervous with me at your side, dear.” Malcolm spared no effort to shower Silas with the affection of a man in love, making even the aged count blush.
The single noblewomen, all holding some hopes that the duke would come unaccompanied, had their hopes quickly dashed by the duke’s honeyed words and his affectionate bearing towards his companion. Silas could only grit his teeth and bare with it, squeezing the crook of the duke’s arm with more strength than what was necessary.
As more nobles approached the pair, Silas quietly scanned the ballroom, his eyes moving over the attendees to the placement of the guards, looking through the sea of faces for one particular face that would quickly catch his eye. As two younger nobles left Malcolm and began to approach the dessert table, Silas’s eyes stopped on a tall figure dressed in a form-fitting red gown, their short blonde hair curled in a fashionable style.
Found her. Silas thought, feeling a sense of relief as he stared at Eva from a distance, feeling the plan had finally come to fruition.
“Malcolm,” Silas said affectionately, feeling ill as he spoke in his heightened voice, “I think I see a friend of mine resting by the dessert table. I’m going to go greet her.”
Malcolm glanced over Silas’s shoulder and saw the familiar figure standing with a glass of wine in her hand, speaking with a taller, light haired young man.
“Alright, darling. Hurry back once you finish chatting. You don’t want to miss the prince’s grand entrance with his fiancée.” The gold color of Malcolm’s eyes darkened as he made eye contact with Silas. To those around them, it was a look full of love and affection, but when Silas looked into the duke’s eyes, he felt a prickling sensation roll down the back of his neck.
“Of course.” The lipstick on Silas’s lips shone under the bright lighting as he nodded his head lightly, breaking the awkward eye contact between them. Without another word, Silas lifted his heeled foot, hurrying away as neatly as he could to approach Eva and her companion, feeling his anxiety begin to bubble in his chest.
…
11 pages! Woo....! Huge thanks to Hunny for her hard work on this chonky boy. This week was awful, but I got through with Hunny's help :D I'll be taking the rest of this weekend easy, as next weekend I will be officially hosting our prom >y< Next week's post should be on time.
As for what Alywin and Malcolm were doing in the shadows... I didn't write that part lol (ask Hunny, not me)! Either way, we hope you enjoyed this chapter. See you all next week! ♥
I've already gotten into chapter 93. It'll probably be another long boy since I don't want you guys to wait too long for all this fun stuff ♥♥
