288: Proving trust (final)

Proving trust (final)

"Hah-..hck! What are you… doing… Egon! I was...Healing her!" Rauul choked out the words.0

"You're dead!" Egon spat.

Adela rushed to the center of the tent, gripped Egon by the elbow, and pulled him back. Her body and voice no longer carried the earlier heaviness, yet she struggled to use her tongue fully and speak.

"Nnnn!" She tugged back with all her might.

Releasing Rauul with a loud grunt, Egon immediately gathered Adela into his arms with the fervor of a man who had been separated from his loved one for years.

She buried her face against his chest.

"I leave you alone for a few moments to search for that bastard, they enchant your tongue and send you off to another man's tent?"

She shook her head, emphasizing that her decision to enter this tent had been entirely her own.

Peering from behind Egon's broad chest, she directed a question to the man who was still gasping for air, his hands on his throat, yet his eyes fixated on the bracelet around her wrist. He pointed at it.

"This... This bracelet is incompatible with our essence."

Egon pressed Adela's head further into his chest by her hair and turned them both to face Rauul.

"What on earth are you doing in this tent?"

"...Raphael... ran away," Rauul slowly rose to his feet, steadying himself by gripping the pole behind him. He then straightened his blue robes and began repeatedly dusting off the dirt that clung to them.

All the tension ebbed from Egon's chest at that revelation.

"You're marrying a woman in his place?"

"...Apparently."

"That's..." Egon hesitated, an unusual look of concern crossing his face as he regarded the man he had recently been choking. "...Stupid."

Rauul took a deep breath, seemingly unbothered.

"Her father is an honorable man," he said, swallowing hard. "Her mother is a respectable woman... The tumbleweed doesn't roll far from the dune." He furrowed his brow. "What are the two of you doing here?"

Egon raised his hand.

"This ceremony is supposed to be for your brother. You're the Duke of Latora now; you can't behave this recklessly."

"I've already sent word to her father. It's an arranged marriage, after all."

Adela frowned. The change of grooms shouldn't inherently be a problem. In fact, it could be seen as an upgrade since Rauul was a Duke. But how would the bride feel about all this?

Rauul's eyes, one blue and one dark, gleamed with different emotions. "I've met her once before... She thinks I'm Raphael... But that's my concern now."

Egon grumbled something incoherent as Rauul swallowed once more.

"Take Lady Adela back to your tent; she's your wife and shouldn't have been separated from you... It's because of her head covering."

Egon pressed the bridge of his nose. "We came here without the Archduke's knowledge. She can't uncover her hair."

Rauul's usually soft-spoken tone turned stern. "Next time, use a wig."

Adela tugged on her husband's shirt again, trying to capture his attention. She then pointed at her turban, her wedding ring, and then at Rauul, hoping to convey her message, even though she wasn't certain if her husband would understand.

Egon sighed.

"...She wants to leave with her hair covered so the ceremony can proceed smoothly." Rauul translated, surprising her.

Egon rolled his eyes. "I gathered as much."

A strange happiness welled up within her, and she smiled warmly at Rauul before wrapping her arms around her husband's waist.

"So be it," Egon murmured darkly, his muscles stiffening where she touched him. He then shot Rauul a glare. "I'll escort her to the guest tent with her hair covered... Prepare the antidote for whatever your people used on my wife."

"It's not malicious; otherwise, I would have been able to alleviate it. It should wear off by itself soon."

Cursing Latora under his breath, Egon moved with incredible speed, picking up the turban from among the cushions on the ground and fixing it back onto Adela's head.

"Why are you here, Egon?" Rauul asked, his tone accusatory. He then cast a softer glance at Adela. "Don't get me wrong; you're welcome here anytime."

It sounded like only Adela was the one welcomed.

She had harbored doubts about the history between the two men, recalling their conversation outside her tent during her last visit to Latora. That dialogue had felt more like a settling of scores than a friendly exchange.

Was she not considered a direct part of that ongoing score between Egon and Rauul then?

She wanted to say something, as it was her influence over Rauul that could make Egon's plan work. However, her tongue refused to cooperate.

"...He will explain everything," Egon stated after a moment of silence during which he scrutinized his wife's expression.

"...Alkadim is here?"

Egon nodded. "His with his mate now, but he'll find you before morning. Create the right opportunity for that."

Adela's mind raced. She knew they were discussing Andreas, but if he held so much influence over Rauul, what was her purpose in Latora?

Did he bring me to the desert just to make me go against Father's wishes!?

Was this trip to Latora a test of trust or a test of loyalty?

"Thank you, My Lady," Rauul said, his gratitude genuine, bringing her back from her thoughts as he placed a hand over his heart.

Perhaps the bride wasn't the only one with feelings then.

"After you."

Egon, who had wrapped a scarf around his face, exposing only his eyes, gestured. Her heart pounded at the sight of his eyes alone, which added a different kind of allure. Particularly the way they softened when their gaze lingered.

Exiting the tent, the two guards standing beyond hearing distance nodded at Egon.

"The Lord orders that you proceed with the ceremony," he commanded, as if he were one of them, and walked forward with his eyes focused straight ahead.

'It's the larger tent on your left,' he spoke softly in her mind.

When her heart quickened its pace in response, she had to remind herself that she hadn't approved of him invading her thoughts.

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