368: Mind control display

Mind control display

Adela extended her free hand, resting it on the Viscount's shoulders to steady herself. Her fingers pressed into the fabric of his coat, and her voice held a tender yet commanding tone as she spoke, "Remain still. I will mend what needs healing."1

He nodded in acknowledgment of her directive, refraining from moving as she tended to his injuries. Gratitude emanated from his gaze as he locked eyes with her.

The Viscount possessed one of the rare two-colored eyes in Emoria with a touch of pale-yellow encircling his pupils. These eyes gazed at Adela with a naked honesty, revealing a depth of emotion he no longer wished to conceal. Or was she finally willing to acknowledge his feelings?

Indeed, whenever Viscount Mathew gazed upon the Archduchess, it was with the eyes of a man deeply in love. What had prompted him to translate those long-held emotions into actions, rushing to her side while still injured and expressing romantic words? This change defied years of disciplined self-control over his feelings.

She closed her eyes, enveloping herself in a calm focus. The magic within her surged to life, coursing through her veins and into the connection point where her knuckles had been pressed by his lips mere moments ago. This healing energy, cool and soothing, flowed through his injured leg and arm, traveling all the way up to Mathew's neck and head.

A soft white glow emanated from Adela moments later and hovered over the Viscount's injuries. His discomfort and pain began to dissipate as her healing magic worked its soothing wonders. Soon, the only remnant of his injuries was the bloodstain on his trousers.

Mathew's affectionate smile broke the connection, but he still held her hand, his face filled with gratitude and awe.

"Your Excellency, you truly are a miracle."

Adela smiled back at him, always pleased to put Rauul's lessons into practice and continually enhance her skills.

As they both stood up, a fleeting expression of surprise crossed Mathew's eyes. Her hand had briefly squeezed his, and while she seemed momentarily off-balance, it was a minor hiccup. 

"What I did isn't a burden, really," she reassured him. "Healing comes naturally to me, and it doesn't deplete my energy. It's the protective measures over a group of individuals that truly exhaust me."

Concern furrowed his brows, "You mustn't overexert yourself. Your well-being is of utmost importance."

"I promise you, Viscount, I am perfectly capable of managing my energy. I won't trouble you or my other knights by overexerting myself."

Their exchange was abruptly interrupted when the Viscount finally noticed they were not alone. A palpable discomfort filled the air as his gaze swept toward the others. And in a show of respect, he placed a fist over his chest, a gesture for the Crown Prince's sake. "Your Highness." However, his eyes narrowed when they fell upon Egon, and a sharp edge remained in his tone as he acknowledged, "Sir Egon."

The deep-seated animosity he held for Egon was unmistakable, and he made no attempt to hide the loathing in his expression as his gaze lingered upon the newly appointed knight.

She didn't need to turn around to imagine the expression on her son's face; she could feel the tension in the air behind her.

Clearing her throat, Adela continued, "His Highness and I were planning to visit your fief after checking on the situation here," her voice carried a hint of awkwardness as she questioned the rationale behind her words, "but it seems there is no longer a need for that!"

Viscount Mathew hesitated for a moment, his eyes shifting to Adela's vest pocket where the glove she had taken off was still resting. "May I, Your Excellency?" he asked politely, a hint of vulnerability in his tone.

Adela understood his unspoken request but subtly refused, smoothly slipping her white glove back onto her hand herself, her fingers deftly adjusting it into place. To dispel the lingering awkwardness in the atmosphere, she promptly redirected the conversation to more pressing matters.

"Viscount, you have not rescinded your last directive to appoint Sir Arkin von Conradie as the head of the Order of Knights," Adela stated with a businesslike demeanor, trying hard not to feel bad about the disappointed look in Mathew's eyes.

Viscount Mathew's loyalty shone through as he offered his explanation to the Archduchess of Lanark.

"Sir Arkin is the son of the Commander of the Emorian army and the former Commander of the Second Order of Knights. Moreover, he shares blood with Your Excellency. He is the most suitable candidate to lead the Order at this time."

Adela remained uncertain, her gaze probing. "…Is that truly what you wish for, Mathew?"

Hearing his name from her lips stirred something in the Viscount's heart.

"My only wish is to devote myself fully to you. I wish to become your personal knight, guarding you tirelessly twenty-four hours a day."

Adela's heart skipped a beat briefly as she considered Egon's potential reaction to the Viscount's unprofessional tone. However, she quickly dismissed the silly thought, choosing instead to appreciate Mathew's loyalty and dedication.

A sudden commotion from above disrupted the moment. Kannen, who had been circling high in the sky, abruptly dove and landed on the Viscount's shoulder. To Adela's shock, Kannen proceeded to relieve himself, soiling Mathew's luxurious brown coat. This was an unexpected and unusual behavior, as neither Kannen nor any other falcon had ever done such a thing.

The Viscount's expression shifted from surprise to annoyance as he pulled out his embroidered handkerchief to clean the unexpected mess on his shoulder.

In the midst of the chaos, a conspicuous loud cough drew Adela's attention. To her surprise, Egon, who had just coughed, was whistling uncharacteristically and kicking some rocks on the ground, while Noctavian struggled to hide an amused grin.

...What had gotten into them?

Another fleeting thought crossed her mind and was once again dismissed and left unexplored. Egon would never resort to using something as significant and powerful as mind control for something as petty as what Kannen had just done on the Viscount's shoulder.

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