“Good evening, Sir Ewan, I hope the food is to your liking,” Merwyn said with a slight hum in his voice as Ewan got up and shook his hand. The other four also stopped jamming their faces and looked up at them, their cheeks puffed to their limits.
“It is, sir,” Ewan said, smiling, his hard grip on the shake met Merwyn’s. “We enjoyed even the last drip of it.” He glanced at the plates that these pigs had licked clean, their gleaming whiteness could contest a new out-of-the-packet piece. But alas, birds of a feather flocked together after all, and such a plate also rested before his seat; he’d pigged himself on his favorite duck meat too tonight.
“This won't do,” Merwyn asserted and beckoned the waiter nearby. “I don’t want to see any plate empty on their table, do you understand?” The waiter bobbed his head, gulping while straightening his crumpled vest. “Ask them properly what they like and keep them coming, do you understand?” Merwyn asked and the waiter bobbed harder, and even his breath muted.
Ewan laughed. “Let me introduce you to my mates,” he said, and put the waiter out of his misery as he scuttled to the food station and loaded the plates up for them—the spicy glazed duck meat with crispy skin alone towered on a platter, and he also scooped a mountainous serving of salted caramel ice cream. “This is Kidd Yales.” Ewan pointed at Kidd who helloed with a nod. “This is Stefan Rad; this is Lance Silvester.” They all greeted Merwyn. “And this is my fiancée, Havanna Elsworth.” Though the Seigneur might already know them all, furthering their contact required a proper introduction.
And while he did, his hub-connector buzzed and quaked in his claw-ring, messing up his painstakingly organized space, and he almost popped a vein.
“Elsworth?” Merwyn looked at her when Nana said her hello. “Please forgive me if I’m wrong but are you by any chance related to Sir Keith Elsworth?” he asked.
“He was my father,” Nana said with a puzzled furrow in her brows, standing beside Ewan.
“Did you know him, Sir Merwyn?” Ewan asked.
“Very well so, Mr. and Mrs. Elsworth are my benefactors. I wouldn’t have survived in the conclave without them,” he said then sighed. “You look a lot like your mother, ma’am, but you have your father’s eyes. Alas…” He stroked the moths on his face. “The rules of the mask are absolute, they made the wrong choice, it was a tragic loss…”
“We…didn’t know they were in the masked conclave,” Ewan said with slight hesitation, and looked at Nana, holding her quivering hand, caressing her fingers. The report he read back in Obria listed them as the casualties of the conflict in the colony, that they’d died because they chose the wrong side in the political war within the walls. But if the conclave killed them…
Nana’s wounds had barely scabbed, he couldn’t gouge them for answers that would leave them with nothing but mournful sighs and tears of remembrance. Yet, if the threat lived, and its claws reached for Nana…
She shook her head at him, her misted eyes pleaded for her, and her grip tightened on his hand.
“I apologize if I brought up sad memories, I shouldn’t have said anything,” Merwyn said.
“It’s fine,” Nana said. “I’ve grieved for them and shed all my tears, it’s better to move on.”
“Yes, it’s better to move on…,” Merwyn mumbled. “Anyway, where are my manners. Sir Ewan, you have my deepest gratitude for putting your trust in me, for disregarding the contract.” He bowed then handed him a vial with sparkling gray water sloshing against its faceted walls. “This is the coordinates for the mine, you’re free to do with it as you please, no one will hinder you,” he said. “Let’s protect the peace of our waters together.”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“Of course,” Ewan said with a smile and pocketed the vial. “We’ll protect it together.”
…..
Their weighty stomachs requested a stroll, and so they did in the dimly lit garden that invited their quiet and serenity—Ewan and Nana sauntered behind while the three chatted ahead, burping one after another like a contest. The talkative bunch remained among the clamors of the hall, sipping their warm brandy after the filling feast, while those of few words attended to the nightly greens outside like them. Nevertheless, the garden accommodated the crowd with much to spare just like the hall inside, and so the whispers kept to themselves.
“Ewan, let’s not look into it,” Nana said, linking arms with him, matching his amble. “I was na?ve before; I didn’t know what I was doing. Please, I don’t want revenge anymore.”
“Alright, we won't,” Ewan said.
“You’ve almost died so many times, you have scars all over you, my heart can't handle it anymore,” she said, staring at him, and their steps halted. “I can't lose you too, please.”
“You won't,” he said under his breath. And she sniffed and buried her face in his chest, squeezing him. Ewan smiled and stroked her head, her tears wetting his t-shirt and jacket—she knew him too well. “Nana, back then I was also a na?ve kid, I was torn apart and lacked the confidence to accept relationships. I feared the weight they came with, so I kept my distance. But it’s different now, it’ll be even more so in the future.” He neared her ear, the pearl earring mirroring his visage, and the ever-so familiar and soothing perfume of night jasmine embraced him amidst her quiet sobs. “Anyone who threatens you, I will end him,” he whispered.
