Chapter 122

Chapter 122

I had only spent a few days in the gold lands, yet for some reason, it felt like it had been much longer. I could almost still hear the echo of the explosions. As we rode away from the Gold manor, I mulled over a number of things.

My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a warm caress against my cheek. Cassis had been watching me ever since our departure and had begun to pass his hand over every injury Nix had inflicted on me.

The wounds had already closed, but there were still traces of dried blood etched here and there on my body. He was moving his hand as if he could simply wipe them off. Once he was finished with all of them, he reached for the nick on my ear, then for the other minor wounds I couldn’t see for myself. He also cleansed my hand, which had been stained red with Nix’s blood by simply touching it.

“Cassis...” I said his name softly. “Who actually killed Lante?”

He stopped his ministrations as if my question had taken him by surprise. After looking into my eyes for what seemed like an eternity, he withdrew his hand in preparation for giving me an answer.

“I did. I killed him.” There was no particular inflection in his tone as he spoke.

I had deduced that it had either been him or Deon, so hearing him confirm that he had been the one to finish off the late Black Master did not come as any sort of shock. It did, however, leave me with yet another question. “And how were his final moments?”

In hindsight, I suppose that wasn’t a fair question to ask Cassis, but... without any way to counteract the venom dwelling deep within my heart, I merely posed an honest question.

“It’s just that I hope his final moments were as painful as possible.”

Cassis suddenly encased my face in his large palms, then stared directly into my eyes as he spoke in a soft whisper. “If there is anything you wish for me to do, you need only say so.”

The pureness sparkling in his golden eyes confirmed his intent and willingness to fulfill any wish I desired. What he had seen at the Gold manor seemed to have given him greater insight into why I was behaving the way I was.

I shut my eyes out of fear that he might see through them to the depths of my troubles. I wanted to kill Lante Agrece all over again for being such a reprehensible man that he would disgrace his own son’s death. I wanted to destroy Noel Vertium for having disrupted Achille’s much-deserved peace in the afterlife. But most of all, I wanted to do away with myself for having hesitated like a sentimental fool and missing my opportunity to do away with Nix for good.

A murderous rage clawed at my heart. As I recalled the puppet who was tied up and loaded onto the back of our carriage like a piece of ordinary luggage, I felt a chill course through my veins.

“Please take my hand.” I unabashedly turned to Cassis in search of comfort.

It was a sudden request but he extended his arm toward me without any hesitation. But rather than take my hand, he wrapped me in his arms and held me to him tightly. I almost immediately felt his warmth travel throughout my body. Throughout my visit to the Gold lands, my bones had felt as if they had iced over, but with Cassis suddenly next to me again, I finally felt warmth from within me.

As he held my waist tightly, he stroked my back the way I remember Mother doing when I was still a newborn. But despite being wrapped in his warm embrace, I realized our blissful lull had come to an end. There were suddenly a number of things that needed to be put into action.

“Cassis...”

Rather than answer me, he pressed his face against my head.

“I’ve decided to become Roxana Agrece once again.”

He clasped the back of my neck, then placed a feather-like kiss on my forehead. “Very well. Do whatever you see fit.”

He had said countless times that he would never let me go under any circumstances, and I had yet to doubt him, but...

“And you’ll forever remain at my side?” I greedily sought confirmation while pulling him even closer to me.

“Of course.” It seemed he always knew exactly what to say. “I shall do whatever you wish.”

If I could have, I would have hugged him until he had become a part of me. I couldn’t resist the urge to thank the gods that I was no longer all alone in this fictional world.

Yet Another Twist

“Are you just gonna stare at me?” With the oppressive silence finally broken, her dry stare refocused on the other person in the room. “Why not at least attempt to take a stab at me with that dagger you’ve been hiding?”

Deon had been intently watching the woman sitting near his bed, but his voice lacked any hint of concern even after what he had suggested.

Sierra continued to stare at him calmly without a flicker of emotion in her blue eyes either. The young man was so cavalier that it seemed he was preoccupied with someone else’s predicament rather than his own. He had been confined to the tiny room for quite some time already, and all the while, he had been going along with the strange living arrangement with the three women. Never in all of his days would he have foreseen residing in such close quarters with his stepmother Sierra, his stepsister’s steward Emily, and his stepmother’s servant Beth.

Since he was immune to most poisons, he had hardly felt the effects of the narcotic sedatives pluming into the air. But the main reason he had maintained his silence for so long was that Sierra seemed to have expected him to.

She had come to his room every day to keep vigil, but she never partook in nursing his injuries. Instead, she would look down at him darkly as if curtains had been drawn over her eyes. Every now and then, she would also menacingly fiddle with the dagger she kept hidden in the sleeve of her gown. Sierra had maintained her silence for some time before finally responding. “That’s right. I’ve fantasized about stabbing you at least a thousand times now.”

Her cold, yet almost soothing voice offered no room to deny she was speaking her truth. Seeing this side of his ever-timid stepmother was wholly unexpected for Deon since he had never once seen her do so much as speak up for herself when they were living at the Black mansion.

Or perhaps it only seemed that way to him because he had never spent next to any time with her before. Either way, Deon could not refute the fact that there was clearly more to her than he had first presumed. And nevertheless, as more time passed, he began to wonder if she wasn’t behaving somewhat foolishly.

After all, she hadn’t once attempted to harm him despite what anyone else would have seen as an open opportunity. Whatever mettle she had exercised while confronting Lante Agrece before his demise had indeed come as a surprise, but her original timid nature appeared to still be driving her actions once again.

“If thoughts alone could inflict harm, you would have been stabbed and slashed until you were unrecognizable,” she said.

Then again, she did appear unmistakably tranquil as if nothing could shake her calm resolve. Sierra finally withdrew her dagger and placed it on her lap. His gaze reflexively fixated on the sharp blade.

“Then do you lack the courage to do it?” Deon asked.

“And which courage would that be? The courage to inflict harm, or the courage to soil my hands with your blood?”

Despite the grim nature of their relationship, the two spoke in the calmest tones to one another. An unwitting observer would have been oblivious to the fact that they were linked by vengeance or the fact that one of them was currently tied down as the other’s prisoner.

“Look into my eyes and tell me what you see,” she said. “Does it look like killing you is a question of whether I can’t or won’t?”

Although he was still strapped to the bed, Deon showed no sign of tension or duress, which also seemed to come as no surprise to Sierra. Emily, however, remained perpetually on guard as she stood near the wall and watched him with wary resignation.

Her charge had initially wished to speak to him alone, but Roxana’s loyal steward had refused outright. She had eventually agreed to give Sierra at least some space to observe their captive since, in truth, it made little to no difference in their already confined quarters. Even so, Emily insisted on serving as the loyal sentry her master Roxana had entrusted her to be. Even Sierra couldn’t take issue with that.

“There’s something I’ve been curious about for a long, long time. What was going through your head when you killed Achille?” It was a question she had wished to ask almost every day she spent at the Black mansion.

“Nothing at all.”

Compared to how long it had taken her to finally formulate the question, his response seemed to strike like lightning. Deon had spoken almost reflexively as if he had nothing to hide nor reason to hesitate. It was a dry answer that didn’t give away a single emotion. She, however, wasn’t at all surprised since she had expected as much. Still, she felt compelled to pose a follow-up question.

“And what did you feel when you were trying to kill your father?”

“Of course, I felt nothing then as well.”

“Then what if Maria were to die right here before you?”

“Why do you keep asking such senseless questions?” His voice did finally convey one emotion—boredom. Other than that though, his expression had not changed, which made it possible for Sierra to stare at him undaunted.

“You’re nothing but a monster Lante created.” Her soft voice seemed to pierce Deon’s ears. “And for that, I both detest and despise you from the bottom of my heart.”