258: The tunnel that led nowhere (part 2)

The tunnel that led nowhere (part 2)

Claude's arms bent, fingers curling in a tangle of tension. His hands hovered beside her shoulders, their heated anger radiating close enough for her to feel, but then they abruptly changed course, balling into fists that repeatedly struck his own head.2

Reacting swiftly, Adela grasped his wrists, halting his frenzied actions in their tracks.

"Even if you've envisioned it countless times, even if he truly deserved such a fate, how could you... Claude de Lanark... how could you make it real?"

He blinked, his chest heaving, wrists held firmly within her grasp, struggling to process her words.

"You're not a murderer, Claude. Father knows it, and I know it. While the rest of the world might perceive you as a hero, believing you were responsible, in Lanark, in all of Emoria, you will forever remain innocent in our eyes."

"Innocent?" He echoed, as if hearing the word for the first time in his life.

Adela clenched her lips tightly. The true murderer remained at large.

"Tell me what happened that night."

Claude needed no further prompting, a palpable eagerness radiating from him as he prepared to unburden himself.

"We argued about the situation," he began, his voice tense. "He held me responsible for not dealing with Egon immediately, regardless of the consequences or who might bear witness. I had to make him see reason and buy myself some more time — I had run out of options!"

She wanted him to elaborate further, but he seemed to scarcely take a breath, his words tumbling out with a feverish urgency.

"The moment that bottle entered your room, knowing you were safe against his wishes, I intended to hasten to my uncle and reveal everything. Your father and I, united, armed with evidence of that snake's attempt on your life... It was more than sufficient grounds to remove him from the throne with the Dukes as our witnesses."

Adela's throat tightened, emotions welling up within her. Though Kaiser and Claude de Lanark did not share blood, they had both shielded her in their own distinct ways, both adhering to the path of righteousness.

"One thing led to another, and it was as if…" His voice trailed off, his expression revealing his own shocked realization.

"As if what?" 

"…In that very last moment, when his grip tightened on my hands while he pointed his blade at his own heart, presenting me with the perfect opportunity to end his life, commanding me to take it. I hesitated…" His eyes widened. "Would you believe me if I said that the blade of his sword seemed to find his heart on its own?"

A dry lump formed in her throat, "…Suicide?"

"No," he scowled, "I thought that initially, but his eyes held such shock… He must have believed that it was my hand that guided the blade… I killed him with my own hands, Dela, yet… I didn't even have the satisfaction of consciously deciding to do it!"

She released his trembling wrists with a heavy sigh. Could he have been temporarily consumed by madness in that moment?

"I surveyed the room," he pressed on, his voice tight. "I was searching… Searching for the specter of my mother! Or any other victim of his, and there were countless to choose from… I swear to God, Dela, I swear by my mother's resting place, I swear by you… I glimpsed a silhouette of a man near the window… Was it my own inner demon? A shape-shifter, perhaps? All I could discern beneath the covers obscuring his face were a pair of sadistic eyes, as dark as the night itself, and then…" Claude's pale green eyes lowered to his hands, "All that remained in my sight was blood..."

Adela forced down the bitter taste rising in her empty stomach.

A blade that moved autonomously.

A figure lurking by the window.

…Sadistic eyes, the hue of midnight, gazing from behind.

It was in that very moment that Adela finally comprehended the identity of Emanuel de Lanark's killer, without a shred of doubt in her mind.

It was Aldric of Varinthia.

Her father had likely harbored the same suspicion but lacked the means to substantiate it. He must have prioritized Emoria's safety over all else, lest it lead to conflict with Varinthia and its warlocks.

Claude crumbled to the floor beside her, his face buried in his hands as he wept.

"Claude..."

"He took my mother from me, he tormented Larissa day after day, he was on the brink of taking your life!"

"He was the only father you ever knew."

Claude's entire body tensed briefly before giving in to a fresh wave of tears. Adela restrained the impulse to reach out and comfort him, sensing his anguish reverberating against her emotional defenses.

"You didn't kill the man who raised you. Don't bear that burden on your shoulders."

Just like in their youth, Claude's tears continued to flow freely, but they were no longer the tears of a boy; they had matured into the tears of a man.

Unable to offer the solace of her childhood, Adela retreated silently from the room.

When she opened the door to go out, she was glad Larissa was pacing close by. She twirled around and hurried Adela's way.

"He is not well." Adela said, further widening the still opened door behind her.

"I will take care of him."

When Larissa went inside, the Archduchess who stood on the other side of the door gave Adela one final melancholic look before she followed Larissa silently inside of the guest room.

I have to tell Egon all about this.

Adela's heart ran, but her feet dragged the heavy gown too slowly down the corridor, then down the stairs, meeting Bernard who waited for her.

"My Lady, I am to escort you to the dungeon whenever you request for it. Sir Egon is down there, but he was never locked up." He said, his face dripping with disapproval.

"Thank you, Bernard, please, lead the way to my husband."

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