WebNovels

Chapter 12 - Chapter 12

Count Houndly's confidence wavered. The sneer he had directed at me disappeared, and instead, he had a smile that was more grimace plastered across his face.

He bowed, or at least he tried; his stomach didn't allow for much of a bend in his waist.

"Lord Belmont, what brings you to this part of the -" his question was cut off.

"I asked if there was a problem," Belmont repeated, his voice calm, but with an edge that could cut steel. The street fell into a hush so profound that even the faintest rustle seemed loud.

Jean stepped forward, placing his body in front of me, blocking me from Belmont. I tugged at my hood with my free hand, the other still immobilized by the towering brute.

"It was a simple misunderstanding, my lord, nothing to concern yourself with." Houndly tried to reassure him, but the sweat dripping down his brow was more than just from heat.

There was a moment of pause, where I was sure I heard Jean's thundering heart. I saw his back stiffen.

"You are the Sagar boy," Belmont stated coolly.

"Yes, your lordship."

"What happened here?"

"As I've already said, your lordship-" Houndly started up again, but suddenly stopped talking.

"There are always two sides to a story," Belmont responded rather shortly.

"It is as Count Houndly has stated, your lordship," Jean began, "My friend and I were not paying attention to where we were walking and ran into Count Houndly. We have apologized, and he was just reminding us to be more careful." Jean turned to look at Houndly to corroborate, but there was also a glint of defiance.

Houndly cleared his throat, "It is as the boy says, it was an accident, something…inconsequential."

"I see," Belmont stated calmly, "A minor incident. So why is your attendant holding them in place?"

My skin pricked as I felt all eyes land on me in that moment. I lowered my head even further.

"She tripped, and I was helping her up," Francis said emotionlessly. Instead of releasing me, his grip tightened, cutting off circulation, as he picked me up by my shoulder.

As soon as I was on my feet, I rushed and hid behind Jean, avoiding looking at Belmont, remembering that last time I had an encounter with him, I ended up in a straw-filled jail cell. I was so close to figuring out how to get home that I couldn't risk being sucked back into their game.

"Are you alright, miss?" Belmont asked, his voice genuine.

Crap.

"Mmm hmm." My voice pitched higher, shriller.

Belmont moved closer toward us, so I buried my head in Jean's back.

I am so close to escaping, give me a break.

Jean shifted his body again, keeping me hidden behind him.

"My friend is rather shy, your lordship. Especially around men of such standing and nobility as yourself and Count Houndly."

Wow, he was good. I gave him a gentle tap on his back to show how impressed I was. Now if only they would move on.

"What were your friend and you doing all the way out here?" Belmont asked.

Dammit. Why can't he just let it go? Why does he care?

"Curiosity," Jean responded simply, but unconvincingly.

The silence stretched again. Then out of nowhere, he asked, "Was it you who welcomed my brother when he came to pick up the Xoltecan woman?"

Jean didn't answer at once, which piqued Houndly's interest. The overweight lord peered at us from under his brows; a seed of suspicion had been planted in his mind.

"A Xoltecan woman?" Houndly questioned, his voice echoing intrigue and disbelief. His beady eyes flitting between Belmont and us, he began, "I heard...that they were here but...

I felt Jean's heart racing, and sweat starting to collect on his back.

"I had already left, my lord. I was gone before first light."

"And the woman was still at your home when you left?"

Jean swallowed hard, and slight tremors were spreading across his body.

"Yes, my lord. As far as I know." His voice was steady.

"What does the Duke want with a Xoltecan woman, my lord?" Houndly probed.

Belmont shot him a sharp glance, one that seemed to instantly silence the man. "None of your concern, Houndly," he shrugged, dismissive. "It was a matter my brother and I handled."

Francis leaned in and whispered something into Houndly's ear, and both turned their gaze toward me. I did not want to get sucked into another subplot in this damn game. As soon as this conversation was finished, I would make a run for it, running and running until I reached the end of this place. There, I would find a parking lot, attendants, and I could finally get home.

"Now that this misunderstanding has been taken care of, I am sure your lordship has more important things to attend to. I will make sure to lead these two youngsters back to the proper parts of the city." Houndly suddenly affirmed, his voice had regained its confidence.

"There are some items I need to discuss with you, Count." Belmont looked at the Count, whose little confidence wavered again, "Come with me." Belmont turned and walked in the direction we had come, not sparing another look toward us.

Houndly, though, stared at us as he whispered something to Francis, then they both followed Belmont. It wasn't long before they were all out of view, and the other actors on the streets went back to ignoring us.

"You were brilliant." I exclaimed as I patted Jean on the back, "You're really great at improvising. You will definitely make it big one day, kid." I looked down the street that led to Dampshaw and to my freedom. "So I just keep going down that way, and I'll…"

Jean took my hand in his and pulled me away.

"What are you doing?" I pulled at my hand, but he held on to it tight; he was much stronger than he looked. Just as before, he said nothing as he dragged me down maze-like streets and alleys. When we had traversed several back streets and were the only two amidst hanging laundry and piled wooden crates, he slowed down.

"Is there a reason we are taking the scenic route?" I asked, rather annoyed.

"We have to get to Dampshaw through a different route; Houndly probably already has his men at the common entrances."

"Why would that man care about me?" My annoyance turned to anger as my stomach began to cramp.

"Count Houndly is a dreadful man," Jean's hands balled into fists and shook with contained fury. "He governs over Aeloria like a tyrant, lording his power over everyone in the city. His influence is like a dark cloud, and under his watch, corruption flourishes like a garden of weeds. Every shady deal, every whispered scheme, has his name tangled up in it."

"I see," I mumbled, controlling my temper. Jean was just another actor, doing his job; it would be unfair to unleash on him, but it was getting really hard not to explode. "I thought this whole place was under the Aster family. Isn't one of the Dukes or something?" I decided to play along, figuring it would lead the script forward and closer to my escape and revenge.

"The Count's reign is by their appointment."

"You don't say," I feigned surprise, my voice dripping with sarcasm, better that than anger. "Why would they appoint someone like him?" I didn't care, and I didn't want to know; I just wanted to get out.

Jean let out a heavy sigh, "That's the question that haunts everyone. Some say the Duke turns a blind eye to the suffering of the common folk, while others believe he's just biding his time, gathering evidence against Houndly. But every day that passes, the Count's grip on the city tightens, and the hope for justice seems to fade."

"That sounds complicated." I pretended to be interested.

Jean's gaze locked onto mine, intense with genuine worry. " Miss Mara, you need to steer clear of him at all costs. Rumors say he also has a taste for the unique, the exotic — not just in objects."

How cliche, the villain is into human trafficking, who could have seen that coming?

"I got it," I said, grabbing his arm and pulling him further into the alley. "Now, should we get going?"

There was a loud smash as a tower of wooden crates crashed to the floor in front of us. Jean pulled me out of the way as they splintered at our feet.

"Ooops, did we scare you?" A gravelly voice said as two men walked out of the shadows. The one in front was shorter than the man behind him, his dark hair under a flat cap.

"What the hell is your problem?" My anger rushed out. "You could have seriously hurt us!"

"Well, aren't you fiesty?" The taller of the two answered, smirking as he looked down on me.

His provocation got to me; the lack of sleep and hunger was too much to bear, and I rushed forward. The shorter man pulled out a knife, which glinted brightly for being plastic.

"Oh, I am so scared," I mocked as I continued forward, undeterred. Fear flashed across the man's eyes as he saw I wasn't stopping, his hand swung across with the knife.

Jean yanked me back, but not in time. The blade sliced through my cloak. I gasped, staggering, as blood was already soaking the sleeve.

You're not supposed to harm her!" the taller one yelled as I stared at the wound.

It had to be fake. They'd grabbed the wrong prop. I pinched the skin apart, searching for a trick blade's capsule of fake blood—but the hot pain, the tears spilling down my cheeks, and the groan clawing out of my throat told me otherwise.

"Another name to add to my list of people to sue." I shot back at them, but something didn't feel right. My threat didn't faze them; either they didn't care because they had good lawyers, or…my heart raced as memories of the past couple of days flashed across my eyes. Back to the night in the basement lab, the duplicate experiment, the bright light. The way everyone here was behaving was more than just good acting.

No. Stop it, Mara. I shook my head, trying to dispel that line of thinking. It was impossible.

My eyes sought guidance toward Jean, but his expression did not offer comfort. His body trembling, the sweat beading on his forehead, his eyes were wide with fear, genuine, unmistakable, human fear. It only confirmed what I was still trying to deny.

I had been cut. I was bleeding.

It was all real.

"Run."

Jean yanked me forward, and we plunged into the labyrinth of alleys, the men's boots pounding closer behind us.

More Chapters