Knock. Knock.
The knocks echo through the hallways, resounding softly and enhancing the drums of my heartbeat.
"Who's there?" A low, male voice rings out from the other side of the door. The tone of the voice is soft, tired, but assertive. "Who has come to see my Lord?"
Dinan's forehead wrinkles as he hears the voice, and then he whispers, but I hear him, "This bastard..." He then clears his throat, sucking in a small breath. "It's me, Dinan. I'm here with the fourth young master. I have come to report an issue to my Lo–"
"Take that good-for-nothing and leave this place at once. Do not come in. The Patriarch is having a meeting." The voice of the man grew sharper. More alive and aggressive as soon as he knew of my presence.
Dinan clenches his jaw, his palms curling into a hard fist as he frowns. "You dare embarrass me..." He mutters.
It seems that whoever that person is, he's someone that Dinan can't speak ill of in his presence. He can only mutter curses to himself.
Fourth young master..
I'm the fourth young 'master' of this.. house.
Dinan turns to face me. His face softens, and his black eyes seem to have a different color in them. One that I recognize well because it's a color that I'd seen most of my life back on Earth.
The color of pity.
He then lets out a soft sigh and turns to face the door one more time. "When can we return?" He asks, his voice high and assertive, but devoid of that annoyance.
"My Lord says he would send for you during his free time. Now go." The man replies, sending me and Dinan away.
My heartbeat finally mellows, and I release my breath that I had been holding subconsciously.
Dinan turns to face me once again, and he points at the door with his right thumb. "You heard him." He speaks in a low voice. Not low that I can't hear, but low enough for the people behind the door to be unable to hear him. "He said the Patriarch will send for us." As he speaks, he scratches the bridge of his nose.
I nod once.
As he confirms that I've heard him, Dinan turns to leave immediately.
Now what?
"Wait." I press.
And he halts midway, turning his head over his left shoulder to look back at me. "What is it?" He asks, his tone a little bit blunt, his eyes narrowed.
Is he irritated?
"Where am I supposed to go?" I ask. Looking down at my clenched fists.
I need to find somewhere quiet to sort myself out and make a plan to weigh this new reality I've found myself in.
"Why are you asking me that? Your quarters, of course." He speaks, his tone still blunt.
I don't reply. I just stare silently into his black eyes.
He fidgets a little, then his eyes soften, and I see that same color show up again as he scratches the back of his head.
He doesn't say anything, he just turns and continues walking. Slower this time. "Follow me."
I immediately follow behind him, wasting no time. And we exit the blue hallway and the big, blue building.
***
We walked from the building where the Patriarch resided, toward a place in this vast estate filled with multiple buildings, a place that Dinan called my quarters.
Ralyn's body became less tense. That overwhelming and unpleasant feeling that seemed to grip his heart is gone now. Now, I walk side by side with Dinan. And as we walked, that dense air of awkwardness between us vanished.
"So he's the Patriarch's secretary, and a knight like you?" I ask Dinan, who nods in affirmation.
"It's exactly as I said." He replies, "We were friends." He looks up at the bright blue afternoon sky, and I do the same. "I met him when we were both trainee soldiers, and we became friends during those periods of shared struggle." He lets out a dry, almost exhausted exhale, "but ever since he was granted the title of a knight and became the secretary of the Patriarch, he started acting..." He turns his neck and looks me straight in the eyes. "Like he's my superior." He frowns, like I'm the one who did him wrong.
I don't know why he's ranting to me. I just asked him one question, and he began to unveil his personal problem to me like I'm his therapist.
Speaking of a therapist. I think I need one myself. Except, I'm not sure anyone in this world even knows the concept of therapy.
I look away from Dinan, shaking my head as I mutter, "What am I even saying?" I scoff at my dumb thoughts. "I never even visited a therapist back on Earth. Even when I was slowly dying inside, so why am I talking about a thera–"
"Are you okay, Ralyn?" Dinan's voice cuts through.
I shake my head. I forgot I was still walking with someone.
"Yes, I'm alright," I speak, my eyes focused on Dinan, who has stopped walking for some reason.
"Let's continue moving. I want to have a good rest." As I say this, I continue walking.
"Is that another effect of hitting your head? You were murmuring to yourself."
I pause, then I turn to look back at Dinan. "Come to think of it, didn't you refer to me as the fourth young master back then?" I ask. My tone is rising negatively.
"Yes, you are."
"Then why do you not address me as such? Why do you address me informally, like I'm your subordinate?" I press.
His dark eyes widen subtly, then return to normal as his lips curl into a soft smirk. "Pardon me, young master."
I turn, facing forward. "That's better."
"And, you're already at your quarters." He speaks out.
I'm already there?
"Where?" I ask, my tone mixed with a fine layer of confusion.
"The building is standing on your left-hand side," Dinan replies.
I look left, and I see the building. Not large, not small. Just a moderately sized, blue-painted building.
"Well then. I'll take my leave." He bows slightly, then turns to leave, "Young Master."
I just narrow my eyes, watching him slowly walk away.
Then I walk into my quarters.