[This chapter contains sexual harrasment and foul language. All characters, cultures, and events are purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.
Reader discretion is advised].
Chapter 4.
You Kept Me Waiting.
"Why didn't you say or do anything back there, My Lady?" Sia's voice trembled, her words sharp with a frustration she couldn't suppress. "She was dragging your name through the mud, insulting you to your face, and you just... you just stood there and endured it."
The two women stood at the mouth of a narrow, desolate alleyway. The air was heavy with the scent of damp stone and neglect. Aside from a few stray cats darting between shadows and the low growl of a distant dog, the area felt abandoned—a skeletal remains of a neighborhood long forgotten by the bustling market nearby.
Elisa turned to Sia, her gaze calm despite the heat of the younger girl's anger. "Sia, there are times in life where humiliation and pain must be swallowed. To react is to give them power."
"But—" Sia started, her knuckles whitening as she clenched her fists.
Elisa let out a soft, weary sigh. "Sia, if I had slapped Lady Keeta, what would it have truly gained us? Nothing but more scandal. When your reputation is already stained, every move you make is watched ." She reached out and gently took the crossbody bag from Sia. "Stop dwelling on it."
From the bag, Elisa pulled a heavy black robe. She draped it over her shoulders, pulling the hood low to shroud her features in silk and shadow. She pulled a crumpled slip of paper from her pocket, squinting at the ink.
Alley 202, Backward Market District. Shop 307. Wild Dog Investigation Bureau.
"We are in the right place," Elisa murmured, her eyes scanning the dark corridor of buildings. "Let's head deeper."
As they ventured further, the atmosphere shifted from eerie silence to a low, predatory hum. The shadows began to breathe. Men with jagged scars—drunkards, thugs, and mercenaries—leaned against crumbling brick walls. Their predatory gazes tracked the two women like wolves watching misplaced lambs.
Terrified, Sia gripped Elisa's sleeve, her fingers trembling. She adjusted her stride, desperately trying to keep pace with Elisa's steady, purposeful walk.
"My Lady, are you absolutely certain about this?" Sia whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her own heart.
"Yes. Do not look at them," Elisa replied, her tone a steel anchor. "Keep your eyes forward and just keep walking."
Suddenly, Sia gasped. She felt a rough, calloused hand clamp around her wrist, jerking her backward. She spun around, her face pale with horror. "Ahhh! Let go of me, you bastard!" she screamed.
Elisa reacted instantly, grabbing Sia's other arm and pulling her toward her chest. But as she moved, the shadows closed in. A circle of mercenaries—at least ten of them—materialized from the gloom. The stench of stale ale and unwashed bodies filled the air, thick enough to choke on.
What the heck... Elisa's mind raced, her eyes darting for an exit. I don't even have my sword. I need a weapon. Anything.
"Well, well... what do we have here?" one of the men leered, a yellow-toothed grin splitting his face. "Two beauties lost in the dark."
"This one looks like a high-born," another added, his voice wet with a sickening hunger. A string of drool escaped his lip as he eyed Elisa's poise. "I want to see if her skin is as soft as it looks."
Elisa shoved Sia behind her, her eyes flashing with a cold, piercing glare. "Stay back," she commanded, her voice ringing with an authority that made the closest man flinch for a heartbeat. "Do not take another step."
But they were outnumbered. Two mercenaries lunged, snatching Sia from behind Elisa's back.
"Ahhh! My Lady, run! Please, just run!" Sia shrieked as she was dragged away.
"No! Let her go!" Elisa lunged after her, but her distraction cost her. The remaining thugs swarmed her, their heavy hands pinning her arms. They forced her to the cold, grimy ground, pressing her limbs down until she was pinned like a butterfly to a board.
Sia's hysterical sobs echoed through the alley.
"Hehe... it's been a long time since I got my hands on a Noble," a mercenary chuckled, his rough fingers grazing Elisa's cheek.
As Elisa struggled against the crushing weight of the men, a flash of white-hot memory scorched her mind. The past. The feeling of helplessness. The sight of her own blood. The crushing weight of a death she couldn't escape.
Why? Why does it always end like this? Her thoughts screamed. My life was supposed to be different this time. I will not die a humiliating death again. I won't let them touch what's mine!
A strange, rhythmic thrumming began deep within her chest. Her golden eyes ignited, glowing with an ethereal, predatory light. Her knuckles began to spark with faint, golden-white embers. Rage, pure and ancient, flooded her veins.
I'll kill them. I'll burn them all to ash—
"My child, it is not yet time. Do not reveal your gift." A woman's voice, smooth and resonant as a cathedral bell, echoed in Elisa's mind. The sound was so calming it acted like a douse of cold water on her burning fury.
"Argh! Let go of me, you bastard! Who the hell are you?" a mercenary suddenly bellowed.
The pressure on Elisa's limbs vanished instantly. She scrambled to her feet, gasping for air. Standing before her was a man. An eye patch covered one side of his face, but that was the least of his battle scars. His skin was a map of jagged white lines and old wounds—the kind of marks earned only in the deadliest of trades.
"Are you all right, My Lady?" the man asked, offering a short, disciplined bow.
Elisa didn't answer. She ignored him entirely, sprinting toward Sia. "Sia! Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"
She knelt beside her, her hands hovering over Sia's trembling form, checking for wounds or blood.
"I... I think I twisted my ankle," Sia stammered, her voice shaking as she tried to pull herself together.
"Hello? Sir? Hellooooo!"
A young, bright voice drifted from the other end of the alley. Elisa looked up. A boy, perhaps no older than fifteen, stood there spinning a dagger with practiced ease. Behind him, the ten mercenaries stood frozen, their bravado replaced by sheer terror.
"Hey, kid! Move!" Elisa shouted. "They're right behind you!"
"My Lady," the scarred man—Karlo—interjected softly. Elisa turned back to him. "Allow me. You have come for the Wild Dog Investigation Bureau, have you not? I shall escort you."
Elisa nodded slowly, still wary. "But what about the boy?"
Karlo didn't answer with words. Instead, he reached down and scooped Sia up into his arms.
"Wait—put me down! I can walk!" Sia protested, her face flushing a deep, sudden crimson. It was the first time a man had ever held her so closely, and the sheer strength in his arms made her heart skip a beat.
"Oh... hello... Sir! Ugh... please give me orders! What do I do with these guys?" the boy shouted again, waving his hand frantically.
Karlo paused, turning his head just enough to glance over his shoulder. "Do whatever you wish with them."
"Really? What about the Boss?" the boy chirped.
"I will handle the Boss," Karlo said, his face a mask of stoic indifference. Then, he looked at Elisa. "My Lady, do not look back."
"Oh... alright," Elisa murmured, confused.
He's leaving a child behind? How can he just leave him there?
"Ahhh! No! Please, stay back! I don't want to die!" A blood-curdling scream erupted from behind them.
Elisa flinched, her shoulders tensing as the sounds of the alley changed. The arrogant mercenaries were now begging for their lives. One by one, the screams were cut short—replaced by a sickening silence that grew heavier with every step they took.
Sia, terrified by the sounds, buried her face in Karlo's shoulder, her hands gripping his tunic. What is this man made of? she wondered, feeling the solid, unyielding muscle of his chest. He's like a statue.
"We have arrived, My Lady," Karlo announced.
They stood before a dilapidated, crumbling structure. The entrance was a narrow, rotting wooden gate that looked as though it would fall apart if breathed upon too hard. Karlo pushed it open.
Elisa blinked in disbelief. The interior was a wreck—broken furniture, dust, and peeling wallpaper. There was no sign of an office, let alone a prestigious bureau.
"Follow me, My Lady." Karlo adjusted his hold on Sia, hoisting her up like one would carry a small child.
"Wrap your legs around my waist and hold on tight," Karlo commanded.
Sia's face, already red, turned a shade of purple. What the—does he think I'm a toddler? This is so embarrassing! she screamed internally, though she did as she was told, her heart hammering against her ribs.
As Karlo stepped through a doorway, Elisa blinked. In the span of a heartbeat, he was gone. He hadn't walked away—he had vanished.
Steeling her nerves, Elisa stepped through the same threshold. A sharp tingling sensation washed over her skin, and her stomach did a sickening somersault. For a second, there was only infinite darkness.
Then, the world snapped back into focus.
She was standing in a room of breathtaking luxury. Plush velvet sofas, ornate rugs, and a grand bed occupied the space. Sia was already being laid gently onto the mattress.
"Where... where are we?" Elisa asked, her voice breathy with curiosity.
"We are inside the Wild Dog Investigation Bureau, My Lady," Karlo said, moving toward the door. "Rest for tonight. You will meet the Boss tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? But my family... they will be expecting us. And I cannot return empty-handed." She mumbled.
"Sir Karlo," she called out before he could leave. "Could you ensure a letter reaches my manor?"
Karlo gave a simple, silent nod and vanished into the hallway.
An hour later, a maid arrived bearing a tray of steaming food. Elisa sat in a comfortable, high-backed velvet chair, leafing through a book Karlo had provided.
"My Lady," the maid said, setting the tray down. She pointed to a small silver bell on the side table. "If you require anything else, please, do not hesitate to ring."
"Thank you for your hospitality," Elisa replied.
"Please, enjoy your meal." The maid bowed and retreated.
Elisa stood and began to serve the food for Sia.
"My Lady, please, let me do that," Sia said, trying to sit up nervously.
"No. You are injured, the least I can do is serve you. Rest."
Sia sighed, a small, mischievous smile tugging at her lips. "Ugh, why must you be so sweet, My Lady? My heart pounds every time you do things like this."
Elisa looked up, a teasing glint in her golden eyes. "Are you quite sure it is my actions making your heart pound, Sia?"
Sia's ears turned bright red. "No! It's not what you think! Stop teasing me!"
Elisa laughed softly and handed her a plate.
"Oh my! This looks incredible," Sia whispered, her eyes twinkling. "This fish is a delicacy. It's so expensive!" Since neither of them had eaten since dawn, they fell upon the meal with unladylike haste.
***
Elsewhere in the building...
"Hey! Tell us, did you see her?" a maid whispered, leaning into a small circle of girls in the corridor.
"Please, Margaret! You were just in there. What is the Lady like?"
Margaret grinned widely, her eyes bright with excitement. "She is absolutely gorgeous. And her eyes... oh, heavens!"
"So, it's true then? She's the one who will become our Duchess?"
"That's the word," Margaret whispered. "And if it's true, we'll have something beautiful to look at every day."
"I can't wait! I want to see her for myself."
"Shh! Not yet," Margaret cautioned. "It isn't time. If we pester her, she'll realize she's currently sitting in the Drakin Ducal House."
The deep silence of midnight settled over the room. Both Sia and Elisa had fallen into a heavy, exhausted sleep.
Creak.
The door groaned almost imperceptibly as it swung open. The room was bathed in shadows, but the moonlight filtering through the heavy drapes provided just enough light to see.
A tall figure stepped into the room, his movements as silent as a ghost. He walked to the bedside and looked down at Elisa's sleeping face. He stood there for a long moment, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest.
"Finally," he whispered, his voice a low, gravelly caress. "We finally meet. You kept me waiting far too long."
He leaned down, his lips brushing softly against her forehead.
As he pulled back, his eyes—a piercing, icy sky-blue—glowed.