Chapter 60

Calculated Desires

“We’re the wretched sods, sitting here in the shadows, waiting. By the time our throats bleed red, we’ll have earned an eternity in the Fire, never to be saved.”

The Blooded, Fragments

Noah sat leaned back against the rather crude, wooden chair, sipping ale infrequently, watching in silence as the rowdy crowd around him delved deep into a string of conversations. Besides the reunion of Syl and Evel with Sash and Myrell, Syl also appeared the happiest of the bunch as he finally had someone his own age to tangle with, namely Lyon who also seemed to have embraced the reality that he’ll be staying here for a while. Just then, from the corner of his eye, he saw a figure shadowed in the distant dark, peeking from beyond the entrance, the signature bells hanging to the side.

Smiling faintly, he got up and left without saying a word, though nobody disturbed him or stopped him to ask why. He glanced at Quickett and made a simple sign, an open, flat palm, indicating they should meet at the terrace where they first got to know one another. Quickett nodded and vanished, Noah following soon after, draping himself in the cascading shadows of strange vaults above him.

The Dining Hall was enormous and broad, the ceiling remarkably tall, the whole thing an open canvas with dozens of chairs and tables laid about the tiled floor. There were no doors to it, only an arched opening in the wall that led out to the set of corridors and hallways no doubt built to confuse any potential invaders if it ever came to that. He, however, had already memorized the whole scope of them, easily finding the one that led back to the outward curve that ran against the building’s side. To his right, an open extension peered into the wild, beyond the city’s wall, columns and pillars standing erect every fifteen feet, upholding the floor above.

It took him but a few minutes to reach the destination, a protrusion of one of those openings, fenced off by marble-stone rails that barely reached the bottom of his waist. Quickett was already there, his back leaned against the rails, arms crossed over his chest. Despite the serious countenance, it was hard to actually take him seriously due to the ridiculous outfit he was sporting, though Noah tried his best, stifling a chuckle.

“… you must have been really backed-up to have finished so quickly.” Noah said.

“What are you talking about?” Quickett asked with a confused expression.

“Nothing,” Noah smiled faintly, moving to the side and bending over the rails, his eyes glued to the distant horizon. “How was the reunion?”

“… all I ever hoped it would be,” he replied after a brief moment of silence. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t do it for your gratitude, I’m afraid.”

“I know. Still, it’s the right thing to do. Express the gratitude.”

“It’s an empty thing, in my eyes,” Noah said, glancing at Quickett. "I'd much rather you do your jobs well from now on than utter a few meaningless words."

“… what’s her status?” Quickett asked. “She didn’t want to tell me anything.”

“… I brought her in under the identity of my slave,” Noah replied. “Though I’ve no intention of attending to her. What you do with her, where you hide her, and the new identity you’ll craft for her… I’ll leave that to you.”

“… you won’t use her?” Quickett arched his brows in surprise.

“How?” Noah quickly fired back, smiling bitterly. “The sole person she has any value to is you. To me, she’s like a hot potato, never knowing when it will burn my hands.”

“You’ve risked a whole lot for the hot potato.”

“No. I’ve risked a whole lot for you,” Noah said. “I just hope I wasn’t mistaken.”

“… what will come of all of this?” Quickett asked. “Especially now, with the Kindled coming.”

“… you’re asking the wrong question, Quicky,” Noah chuckled. “It’s not what will come of all of this, but what can we make of all of this.”

“Hm?”

“I’m never too keen to leave things up to the elusive fate,” he continued. “I’d much rather take the whole thing by its balls and command it. And, well, that’s where you come in. You’ll be the hands that grab those balls.”

“… I won’t actually be grabbing any balls, right?” Quickett smirked faintly, though still a trace of worry flashed through his eyes; he knew very well that nothing was past this strange Dacent.

“Not on my orders you won’t, I’m afraid,” Noah smirked back. “This,” he reached into his inner pocket and took out a sealed envelope, handing it to Quickett who inspected it curiously. “Needs to find its way into the hands of Duke Godwind.”

“… hm?” Quickett frowned shooting a glare at Noah.

“I don’t care how, but it needs to be done by tomorrow’s dawn,” Noah continued, ignoring the glare. “And, lastly, he cannot know where it came from.”

“… you want me to sneak into his chambers and put it on his desk?” Quickett snickered.

“His chambers, his toilet, his pants for all I care,” Noah said. “That’s up to you.”

“… I don’t know what you think of me,” Quickett finally realized that the Dacent was very much serious, causing him to panic. “But I’m just a soldier-turned-jester; if you want someone to listen in to courtly gossip, I’m your guy. Hell, even if you need me to stab someone, I can do it – sneaking into a Duke’s anything is so far out of the scope of my abilities it’s not even funny.”

“… you’ll find a way,” Noah flashed him another grin, standing up and stretching lazily. “There are countless ways to sneak in. Think, Quickett. Why did I ask you specifically to do this? It's not that I believe you can just wait for the night to fall and sneak into the Duke's room, but because of all the knowledge you possess on him. His enemies. Friends. Family. Staff. Use it and abuse it.”

“…” Quickett was muted for a moment before realizing what the Dacent was implying. It was possible, if he tried it. It would still be remarkably risky, but far less so than if he stupidly tried to sneak in. “What about the Trace?”

“… why are you asking me?” Noah glanced at him mysteriously. “Use everything at your disposal.”

“…” Quickett swallowed his words as a cold sweat broke out, dousing his back. He knows… fuck, he knows everything!! How?!

“Anyway, I’m off to take a nap,” Noah said, taking a few steps out and back into the corridor. “Good luck. I’m expecting good news.”

Without glancing back, he headed toward his chambers, humming a low tune. The feeling of dumping something really tiring onto someone else… was like no other. It could not be replaced. It felt as though a massive mountain was flipped off his back and handed over to someone else, alleviating a whole spectrum of troubles he was facing. Faintly lost in that pleasure, he barely registered that he had arrived in front of his room before coming to, entering. Inside, a rather strong scent whiffed against his nostrils, causing him to frown; it was like in a gym of teenagers, where every boy believes the stench will be hidden so long as they spray a whole can of deodorant all over themselves.

He quickly located the source of the smell – Olivia. She was sitting on his bed, clad in what appeared to be a gown, a great cut running over her chest, exposing a rather bustling cleavage. His frown deepened, as this was not something he was expecting. Though he’d seen occasional and brief flashes of desire in her eyes, she always kept them well under control. Even the densest of people, in this situation, would have figured out what she was trying to do. Why? What’s changed? Perhaps she thought he killed Sylene, attributing to him something that he did have, but that she shouldn’t know he had.

“Your Highness?” he spoke at last. She quickly latched her eyes open, staring at him with a pensive gaze. It made him somewhat uncomfortable; after all, she was almost half his age, and he hardly ever looked at her as a woman so-to-say.

“Congratulations on your safe return,” she beamed him a wide smile, getting up and walking over, swaying her hips intentionally. He realized that there was another cut on her gown, one running from her upper, right thigh all the way to her bare feet. “You must be tired.”

“… somewhat,” pushing back the desire to run away, he flashed her a smile. “What can I do for you, Your Highness?”

“… I know.” Hm?

“Know what?”

“That you were the one to warn the Father of the Kingdom’s Plight,” … that bastard, Noah barely held his eyebrows from twitching. He’s a King for a reason, I suppose… sighing inwardly, he tipped the hat off to the old man in silence, before planning on how to undo the damage the King had caused. “We all know. Thank you.”

“… I was just a messenger,” Noah said. Downplaying this will be impossible, he knew that well. The news is way ahead of me. Damage control is… limited. Go into hiding again? That would only spark more rumors. If anything, I now need to step into the limelight and counteract the wariness they have for me. “I am only glad I was able to be of use.”

“There is no need to downplay your heroics,” she put her arm onto his chest, biting her lower lip. “You should even be rewarded.” Following a brief moment of silence, Noah clenched the wrist of her arm that had begun drifting downwards. She looked up quickly, meeting his faint smile.

“Please, Your Highness, your praise is too much,” he said. “I only did what was right. I am a bit tired, after all, however.”

“… a-ah, yes,” Olivia withdrew her hand, flushing in faint red, avoiding his gaze. “How unseemly of me. I should leave you to the rest; it was a long and hard journey, after all.”

“Do come tomorrow morning,” he said, trying to patch up the broken ties immediately. This isn’t good… “We have a lot of things to catch up on, and plenty more to discuss further.”

“O-of course,” she beamed him another smile, like a young girl told by her father they’d play together all-day-long. Then, like a storm, she hung her arms around his waist and quickly kissed him; it was hardly even a kiss, he mused as he felt the soft sensation vanish as quickly as it appeared, with her acting like a nimble cat, lowering her head and worming around him, moving toward the doors. “Tomorrow, then.”

He stood stunned for a few moments before sighing and rubbing his temples. Something’s changed, he considered. Just being a ‘messenger’ wouldn’t have been enough for her to abandon her inhibitions. Did her Father tell her something else? Or was it another thing entirely? There was also the possibility that she, really, just couldn’t hold it back anymore, but he very much doubted it. Unlike with Claire, she lacked the raw aspect of desire; it all felt very much calculated and with a purpose. As to what that purpose was, he’d have to somehow pry it out of her without prying it out of her, lest he be burned in the fire he really didn’t want to take a dip in.