Chapter 143: Dandelion's Old Friend
"Don't just fixate on one platter, Saskia. In the human world, clearing your entire plate in one go is considered a breach of etiquette."
"Isn't that the human way? To find something good and strip it bare? In every village we've passed, the lords looked as though they'd happily squeeze the very last grain of wheat from a peasant's fist."
"Saskia, we are discussing manners, not politics."
Arthur had intended to stride over and greet them directly, but hearing the man's lecture to his daughter from a distance, he found it far too amusing to interrupt. He stopped in his tracks, listening in.
"Wasting food and calling it 'etiquette'? How absurd," Saskia grumbled, her lower lip out-thrust in a clear sign of defiance.
The man in the black-bird doublet explained patiently, "The remnants are not simply tossed away. They are given to the servants—and to those at the bottom of the ladder, these scraps are still a fine feast."
Saskia nodded, letting out a sigh that sounded far too weary for her years. "Fine. I actually quite liked that dish, though."
The man patted her arm soothingly. "Do not fret. The kitchen will bring out fresh venison shortly. Come, let's sample something else for a while..."
Saskia's eyes lingered longingly on the venison as she began to turn away, only to collide squarely with her father's back.
"What is it, Father...?"
The girl peeked out from behind him, and the words died in her throat. She froze instantly, turning as still as a statue.
"You!!"
Her eyes went wide with shock. Not three paces ahead, the terrifying man they had only just managed to shake was standing with his arms crossed. He was casually munching on a cookie, a half-smile playing on his lips.
"Well now, what a coincidence," Arthur said. "Don't tell me you've taken up residence at the Moonlight Moss too?"
The man stepped to the side, shielding his trembling daughter. He met Arthur's gaze with a look of cold, unalloyed displeasure. "What have I done to offend you so? You're more persistent than a debt collector. Won't you let us have even one night of peace?"
Arthur scoffed. "Save the drivel. When someone tracks me to my front door, I don't sleep soundly until the matter is settled. Don't you agree?"
The man nodded slowly, a predatory glint igniting in his eyes. "Three hundred meters past the South Gate, along the main road, there is a clearing. No one goes there. I will wait for you."
Hearing the proposal to move the confrontation elsewhere, Arthur's first instinct was that the fellow intended to flee. But on second thought, he realized the necessity of it. With the hall teeming with guests, any fight here would be far too restricted.
"You seem familiar with the local geography. Been in these parts long?"
"Not long. I simply have... experience with the world."
"Fair enough. When?"
"Shall we say after the ball concludes? I still have business to attend to. Saskia, you may go and finish the rest of the venison now."
The girl, looking quite miserable, trudged back to the corner to accelerate her meal. Since a fight wasn't imminent, Arthur decided to see if he could squeeze out some information.
"That illusion was your work? How did you know I'd turn tail and run?"
A waiter passed by with a tray of champagne; the man snagged a glass and took a slow sip. "If I told you it was a desperate, spur-of-the-moment trick, would you believe me?"
Arthur nodded. "Your execution was masterful, but the logic was flawed. A tavern like that could never survive in Cintra. Tell me, what's your connection to Corve? Colleagues? Superior and subordinate?"
In Arthur's mind, Corve—that half-mad assassin who had ambushed them on the road—was the only one with both the grudge and the means to follow him all the way to Cintra.
"...Do not mention me and that clown in the same breath."
A flash of genuine anger crossed the man's face, his tone suddenly sharp and entirely at odds with the courtly etiquette he had been championing moments ago.
Arthur accepted a glass of sweet wine, watching the amber liquid swirl against the crystal as he sank into thought.
Though he hadn't witnessed Three Black Birds unleash his full magical potential, Arthur was certain the man's mastery was formidable. The illusion he'd woven earlier had been flawless—Arthur had stepped right into the heart of it without sensing so much as a ripple of Chaos.
Yet, their temperaments were worlds apart. Corve was a serpent who spent every waking moment laying traps and manipulating others to do his dirty work; a quintessential shadow-weaver. This man, however, possessed a logic that was far more streamlined: if he didn't like you, he fought you; if you saw too much, he fought you; if his cover was blown, he fought you. He moved with the blunt force of a high-level enforcer, albeit one with a veneer of nobility.
If they aren't colleagues, then perhaps they belong to allied factions...
Arthur turned his gaze toward the girl in the corner, who was still making short work of the venison. "And what role does this young lady play? Your contact? Your handler?" He gave a short, dry laugh. "Don't tell me she's an innocent bystander. My sides would split from the hilarity."
Hum...
An invisible wave of pressure suddenly rippled outward, and the boisterous hall fell into an eerie, unnatural silence. Saskia, a piece of venison halfway to her mouth, looked back with wide, worried eyes.
For a heartbeat, the man's eyes shifted. They became burning gold, the pupils narrowing into vertical slits—eyes that seemed to hold the cold, indifferent weight of an eternal abyss.
The transformation lasted only a fraction of a second before his pupils returned to a human brown. Another ripple of magic followed, and the room snapped back to life. The guests resumed their loud conversations as if the world hadn't just stood still.
Only Arthur knew what had transpired in that half-second. A telepathic message, laced with an incandescent, primeval killing intent, had been driven directly into his mind:
"You will never have the chance to touch her."
Arthur narrowed his eyes. The stranger was the one acting suspiciously, yet now he was behaving as if Arthur was the relentless aggressor.
"Ha! I see I don't even need to introduce you two—you've already made acquaintances!"
Just as the tension between them reached a breaking point, an enthusiastic voice boomed from behind them. It was Dandelion. He was dressed in a flamboyant doublet that bordered on the offensive, a beautiful noblewoman clinging to his arm.
"Look at this!" the bard exclaimed with his usual theatrical flair. "A scene straight out of the epics—great men naturally gravitate toward one another!"
He gestured toward Arthur first. "Allow me to present Arthur Dayne, the youngest Throne Knight of Temeria. A man who has dismantled more conspiracies on his journey than I've had hot meals—though, alas, I cannot yet set the full tale to verse."
"How very impressive! Truly remarkable!"
The noblewoman took one look at Arthur and immediately abandoned Dandelion's arm. She slinked toward Arthur like a hunting cat, her voice a purr. "I've never seen such a... well-proportioned young knight. You look as though you've stepped right out of a dream."
As she spoke, her hand began to wander toward Arthur's flank with practiced lack of restraint.
In any other circumstance, Arthur might have used the lessons in etiquette he'd endured under Triss to deflect her gracefully. But now, he simply took a stiff step back, extricating himself from her reach with blunt finality.
The lady's face went white with indignation. She turned on her heel, making a show of stomping away. When she realized after three steps that none of the men were rushing to call her back, her teeth ground together so loudly they could be heard over the lutes. She stormed out of the hall in a huff.
Dandelion, seemingly oblivious to the drama, clapped the stranger on the shoulder. "And this is Villentretenmerth, also known as Borch. He's earned the nickname 'Three Jackdaws' because he's never seen without his two stunning Zerrikanian bodyguards. He's the finest knight-errant I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. He once traveled a thousand miles just to aid a companion—by the way, Borch, where are those lovely guards of yours?"
Borch offered an elegant, perfectly composed smile. "You mean Tea and Vea? They're on maternity leave... Are you not going to chase after your companion?"
"Both of them? At once? You truly are a man of exceptional talent!" Dandelion roared with laughter. He grabbed Arthur by the arm, his tone suddenly dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "We can mend that bridge later. But what was happening just now? I thought for a moment the two of you were about to draw steel!"