352: Putting Egon's mind at ease

Putting Egon's mind at ease

The day passed in a blur, and Arkin's presence in Adela's estate proved to be a welcome distraction. Managing preparations for the impending visit of the Baron and Baroness, along with catching up on the happenings of both continents had kept her occupied till evening. It was only late in the day that she realized her son had monopolized her father's time.2

If only daylight could stretch a bit longer.

As night descended, Adela's heart raced as if she were in a high-stakes horse race. She paced her room nervously, the satin of her black nightgown clinging to her skin despite the noticeable chill in the air. She approached the bed, shedding her robe and leaving only the gown. Then, she walked to the window and pushed it open as far as it would go, inviting the cold night air to rush in.

She closed her eyes, savoring the sensation.

When she reopened her eyes, she glanced to her right at her son's window—a habit she couldn't quite explain since there was no way for her to see him. Deciding it was just what she needed, she turned away from the window with the intention of checking on Noctavian as he slept, knowing it would calm her frantic heart.

A subtle thud echoed behind her, causing every hair on her body to stand on end and her racing heart to falter for a moment.

When I turn around, would Egon be standing inside this room? She was certain of it.

"You were remarkably quiet today."

His resonant, deep voice filled the room, a masochistic pleasure to her ears which had yearned for that sound within confined spaces for so long. 

"…Old habits die hard, don't they, My Lord?"

"Adelaide, look at me."

Every muscle in her body yearned to obey, but her mind held her body back. She needed to conceal her emotions before facing him. That's exactly what she did as she turned painfully slowly.

As she studied his cleanly shaven face and shorter-than-usual hair, a breeze from the open window behind him carried with it the familiar scent that had never left her senses over the years—pine and musk.

His scent was more loyal than the man himself.

Egon's brown eyes bore into her, filled with disapproval as they followed the drops falling from her wet hair to the ground around her.

"Bad habits die hard, indeed," muttering under his breath, his disapproval was evident.

As his eyes began to glide down her bare skin, tracing a line from her neck to her shoulders and the cleavage between her breasts, she instinctively eyed her robe, feeling as vulnerable and exposed as she did when he had first entered her room. It was strange; it was as if he hadn't seen her body before.

A visible gulp made his Adam's apple rise, but he wiped the lustful expression from his face and reached into his pocket, producing an artifact she had once dreamt of years ago. His intention was clear, but he further clarified it with the words he spoke.

"This has clung to me for years. I couldn't part ways with it. Now I understand why. It will be of use to all of us."

She felt her blood run cold as she grasped the implications of his actions. "... Are you out of your mind?"

"For entering the room of an unmarried noblewoman?" He inquired, his sarcasm as jarring now as it had been years ago whenever he employed it. "Don't worry, I'll be swift and discreet. I'm here for Noctavian, and I'm sharing my intent with you out of respect."

Respect?

"I've been contemplating this all day," he persisted, "why you might hesitate to answer my inquiries, why your father's involvement is... I do understand how sensitive the issue of your son's lineage is for House de Lanark, and I want to stress that I'm not assigning blame for whatever occurred in Varinthia years ago." His solemn tone tapered off, replaced by a more pointed one, "I believe I have a valid right to confirm whether that young boy is indeed my offspring, and by utilizing this artifact, we can definitively resolve any doubts concerning his parentage."

Adela's head shook in sync with the trembling of her hands, while Egon's eyes, which had been meticulously scrutinizing her every movement, now averted uncomfortably.

"Let's not complicate matters for everyone involved. We merely require a small sample of his blood."

Here we go again...

It's as if seven years haven't elapsed, despite her providing a response to that question and introducing her son a year later to dispel any doubts about his parentage. Egon now approaches her, seeking evidence of paternity, as if there could have been any doubt about her faithfulness when she had made it abundantly clear that no such transgression had occurred.

The situation had become outrageously absurd, and this time, she refused to remain silent.

"...How dare you harbor doubts," she thundered, storming towards him with a blaze of pent-up frustration in her eyes, "How dare you question the answers I've already provided!"

His eyes briefly widened before they blazed with anger, but their exchange was interrupted when an unnatural gust of wind swept in through the window behind him.

Egon swiftly turned to confront the otherworldly threat, crouching protectively in front of Adela, poised to strike once the intruder's identity was revealed. What left him utterly stunned, however, was the sight of a young boy in royal purple pajamas, brandishing a sword by his side pointed directly at Egon's throat.

"If you believe you can approach her in the same manner as before, you are making a grave mistake by not considering my involvement. She is now under my protection," the boy declared, turning to his mother. "Come here, Your Excellency."

Walking away from Egon who had already lost his aggressive stance, Adela stood by her son's side.

Noctavian lowered his sword and extended his hand. It was a silent but unmistakable demand for the artifact that Egon was holding, and Egon complied by placing the artifact into Noctavian's palm.

"I've read about these before," Noctavian said, looking up at Egon. "Does this belong to House von Conradie?"

Egon was momentarily taken aback before regaining his composure. "Yes."

"One drop of blood could settle the question that has been consuming you all day, is that so?" Noctavian mused.

Egon nodded in silence.

"Is this artifact of great significance to Emoria, Mother?" The Crown Prince inquired, his dark eyes never leaving Egon's.

"No," Adela's reply came across in a monotone, "It's obsolete, an impractical method of communication, just as your books have informed you, Your Highness."

"I see. Thank you, Mother." Noctavian acknowledged, taking the artifact in both hands and effortlessly crumpling it as one might with a flimsy piece of metal before letting it drop loudly on the floor.

Despite being destroyed, the bloodied artifact reacted, unfurling like a flower in bloom to reveal a letter that had been read by Noctavian's parents seven years ago.

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