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[color=#A1C0B8][h3][center]Part 1[/center][/h3][/color]

[color=limegreen]Time:[/color] Ignis 2 Evening
[color=peru]Location:[/color] On the way to the Vikena’s Sorian Estate


[hr]



The foyer was quieter than the dining room, and Cassius felt the difference immediately. He kept walking and didn’t look back. If he stayed at that table another minute, he would say something he couldn’t take back. Near the front doors, a small table had been set out for guests. Wine, cigars, and matches. Everything was arranged neatly, just the way Calbert had trained his staff to do so.

He stopped, not because he wished for further intoxication, not this time at least… but because he needed his anxious hands occupied. He reached for the decanter and poured himself a glass without bothering to measure. Then he took a cigar.

He wasn’t much of a smoker, though there were few indulgences he hadn’t at least tried in his years. He’d never cared for the taste, but he needed something extra tonight…something that would slow his thoughts down and give him a reason to breathe.

He picked up a matchbox and stepped outside.

Cool air met him as soon as the door shut behind him. It helped… It made his head feel a little bit clearer from that first breath alone, even if it didn’t do much for the anger sitting in his chest.

Cassius crossed to one of the columns on the front porch and paused there, leaning against it. He struck a match and watched the flame catch, holding it to the end of the cigar until it lit, then took a careful inhale. He welcomed the burn that spread down through his throat.

He forced himself to take another pull, smaller this time, and let the smoke out slowly. The cigar didn’t taste as good as it smelled, though it never did. But it did what he needed…gave him something to focus on. He took a sip of wine after that hit. The warmth settled in his stomach, and his mind returned finally to the dinner.

It wasn’t the conversation nor the impeccable meal that drew his attention, but rather the moment Marek Delronzo had arrived. Cassius had met more than his fair share of dangerous men before. Hell, he had been the dangerous man of other men’s tales one more than a few occasions. But Marek was different. That man had walked into the room and taken control without raising his voice. The way he spoke, the silences he chose, the moments where his eyes lingered and where… Every single move he made had been deliberate, yet somehow otherworldly all the same.

Cassius couldn’t stop thinking about it… about what the man represented.

The darkness of the Black Rose wasn’t just rumor and speculation. This was not an exaggeration that people whispered about in taverns. The sins were real, and the machinator of it all, Marek Delronzo, was just as real, and he sat at the Damien table like he belonged there.

Cassius exhaled smoke after another drag and stared out into the dark estate grounds, trying to make sense of it all. His father’s relationship with Marek had been hinted at in careful phrases, as if naming it directly was forbidden. But to Cassius, the meaning had been clear.

The Damien family was in deep with the Black Rose. They weren’t just associated with them like he had come to understand. They were tied to them.

Cassius tightened his grip on the glass. He hadn’t come to Sorian, he hadn’t welcomed a new life here just to become part of a criminal empire. He hadn’t walked away from everything he had known, from everything he had built and the craft of war he had mastered, just to find something worse waiting for him behind a noble title.

He took another sip and felt the alcohol bite as his focus shifted, then another pull of the cigar, the ember’s glow surging like a dying star. The smoke stung his eyes and he let it. That sting was deserved, because through the haze of Marek, Alexander, and the Black Rose bullshit, one word remained lodged in his heart.

[b]Plain.[/b]
 
Alexander’s voice, honeyed as only his brand of devil can be, echoed in his mind. “Plain is probably the best word…” That’s what he had said.

Cassius’s jaw tightened until the bone began to ache. A disgusted scoff escaped him. The ignorant bastard, to call Lottie "plain" was clearly an attempt to rile him, and as much as it angered him to admit... It worked.

He closed his eyes, and the dark of the estate vanished. In his mind’s eye he was back at Drake’s party. He could see the sunlight… the raw, golden spill of a warm afternoon. He pictured her lying in the grass, remembering the way the light had kissed the curve of her cheek, lingering there with a devotion he found himself envying. He remembered the delicate shadow of her lashes and the way her eyes, never plain, held the hue of such beauty. They were blue, but a blue that contained depths of melancholy and a quiet, resilient kindness.

And her smile. When it finally bloomed, it had been the kind of warmth he had craved yet never knew. In that moment, watching her, Cassius had forgotten the scars on his body and the blood that forever stained his hands.

The cigar ash fell, unheeded, onto his boots.

The word "plain" burned hotter than the tobacco. It shouldn't matter, because Alexander was simply playing a game with those words. It was reminiscent of a child pulling wings off flies to see them squirm. But out here, in the honesty of the cool air and isolation, the anger in Cassius’s chest was admission that the game had worked on him. He knew he should be ashamed of himself, but all he could feel was resentment towards the man… the [i]creature[/i] who pulled the strings. Yet his mind went once more to Charlotte.
 
Cassius felt a sudden ache… deep in the lower depths of his heart. The kind he had only felt for her. He took a long sip of wine, trying to drown the thought, but it did not drown. It refused, and more profoundly…the roots of the feeling clawed deeper and deeper with each flash of her face that played in his memory.

It was then he felt it again—the cold, bottomless dark from the dining room—closing in and drowning him in dread.

The porch lanterns caught the edge of a silhouette as it came forward. It moved as if it owned the air. A faint scent followed him, clean and expensive.

When Marek drew alongside Cassius, his gaze slid across him with a lazy, amused entitlement as he slowed his stride. The slight grin that moved his mouth as their eyes met wasn’t warmth; it was recognition. His eyes lingered on the ember of the cigar, then lifted again, settling on the young Damien man’s face. Cassius simply lifted his glass as a toast to Marek, his own gaze not faltering despite the whirlwind inside of him.

Then, as quickly as he appeared, Marek was past. Footsteps receded. The air felt colder where he’d been.

He pushed past the gate eventually and came to a halt as a sight caught his gaze: Captain Stratya Durmand, Lady Charlotte Vikena, Kazumin Nagasa, and the one called “Olivia” had all rounded the corner together.

Marek’s attention moved once across the group. An almost imperceptible hum of amusement left his lips. [color=7D2933]“Good evening.”[/color] The greeting was polite, but his voice was heavy and oddly resonant.

And then he continued toward the beach as if nothing in the world had the power to make him change course.

Charlotte’s lips parted, her gaze fixed on the man as his form disappeared into the night. She laid her head wearily on Stratya, her temples throbbing with pain. [color=D0B4EC]“We’re almost there,”[/color] she said softly before they started to move forward once more, [color=D0B4EC]“my estate is just after this one.”[/color] 

Meanwhile, Olivia had been in Kazumin’s arms, weak and trembling. The dark magic spell had left her dazed from pain. It was as if she had lit her nerves on fire as well. Olivia couldn’t make heads or tails of how to stand up or move, and her head throbbed as if she’d been smacked with a frying pan. She wanted to protest against Kazumin, but timing was of the essence. She sighed and made herself at home, and oddly enough, was enjoying their closeness. Her head rested against his chest, and her arms were around his. Her strawberry blonde hair spilled over his arms like a river of red. 

Her green eyes strayed from staring at the stars as they neared the Damien estate. An older male strode past them with purpose towards the beach. Her mind, though hazy, reeled from seeing him, and her muscles tensed. An inexplicable sense of danger rushed through her, and Liv struggled to move in Kazu’s arms.

[color=8FBC8B]”...”[/color] Olivia tried to speak, but the idea of making sound was difficult. She tried to reach for Lottie and set her hand on hers. Though she was unable to do much of anything, Liv made a weak effort to pull her to her side. [color=8FBC8B][i]I recognize him…What was his name?[/i][/color] She tried to think, but the effort caused her head to throb more, and she huffed in annoyance.

Kazumin’s arms tightened by instinct at the sight—a strange man leaving the Damien Estate grounds. As the man paused suddenly, he felt oddly unnerved. However, the feeling of Olivia in his arms steadied him; she was so warm that it might have flustered him if his instincts hadn’t been busy screaming. 

When she had shifted in his hold like a rabbit hearing the click of a snare, he pulled her in closer and murmured that it would be alright. Still, a sharp pang had cut behind his eyes, and for a moment, he saw the night all over again. The images clawed up into his brain, and he felt uneasy all over again. But it quickly curdled into irritation as he remembered the precious girl in his arms. 

His mouth then curved into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, a cheeky bite to his words as he replied, [color=limegreen]“Aye.”[/color] He lifted his chin slightly at the man, his voice calm,  [color=limegreen]“—A good evening for a good drink.”[/color] He stepped forward casually and deliberately, angling his body so he stood protectively between the man and the women with him, even as he departed down the beach.

This was taking too long already. That man that just [i]greeted them[/i] gave her a terribly ominous feeling. This wasn’t the time to stand and ponder or wait. Lady Charlotte spoke true, the Vikena estate was not far. The walk there was open, but standing here for long enough wasn’t any better.[color=peru] “Let’s take t’ walk, then.”[/color] The captain, supporting Charlotte with her left arm, reached across with her right to gently stroke the poor thing’s hair, careful of the injury. After a brief moment of comfort, she would lead the way forward.

Gale had been watching the man that had passed right by him. He saw him seeing them, and knew the captain would be getting impatient when she approached with her group. [color=peru]“I would ‘ave taken ye west, but seems someone in t’ guarrd thought folk would try those alleys.”[/color]

He knew she’d been about to ask him.[color=peru] “We’ll walk tae t’ Vikena esta’e frrom ‘erre. Use theirr stables, I nae ken ‘ow long I’ll be.”[/color] It felt like standing back up might be a problem if she sat down. Perhaps she would remain standing.

She didn’t break pace as she addressed Gale, her thoughts kept returning to how Giddeon hadn’t even used her name. Stratya chose to believe that was a measure he’d taken to protect her identity. Perhaps they were far enough from the scene she could relax, but somehow it didn’t sit right.

Cassius had not been able to force his eyes away from Marek as the man had made his way off the Damien’s property. Though, just as he exited, Cas noticed the way he turned to acknowledge the group making their way down the street. With Marek disappearing from his line of sight, Cassius let his eyes fall upon the group… And to his surprise, what he saw caused his blood to run cold. 

There she was, the girl that only seconds ago had dominated his mind’s eye. She was leaning against a familiar figure, he believed it to be the guard captain his father had pointed out to him at Lord Edward’s party. Along with them was a man he recognized as Kazumin, who was carrying Olivia, the girl Charlotte had introduced him to at the beach. 

Something wasn’t right. The way they moved, the way Charlotte’s weight was resting against the guard captain… The way Kazumin was supporting Olivia in his arms. It all pointed to exhaustion, perhaps some kind of potential injuries. His mind raced wondering what had happened, flashing back to the night of his stabbing. Had someone hurt them? Had someone hurt [b]her[/b]? 

The cigar fell from between his fingers, its embers breaking into dozens of tiny sparks as the ash made contact with the ground. The wine, that had been up to his lips but a second ago, slipped from his grasp, the glass shattering as it landed. But he hadn’t even noticed. 

Cassius moved without even a moment’s ponderance, and before he knew it he was there at the gates, only feet from them. He could see now, the evidence of some kind of struggle… The wounds. Each of them bore the signs of violence, but his eyes were drawn to Lottie as his heart began to shatter the same way the glass that fell from his fingertips had moments ago.

Charlotte’s face was smeared with blood. He saw the gash above her brow, the dried blood under her nose, the cut across the neck. Without thought, without reason, without restraint… Cassius moved to her. Gently, he reached shaking hands towards her with worried eyes. His fingers carefully turned her face so that the angles of moonlight and what light was cast from the nearest street lamp could illuminate her features and injuries. His desperate expression broke away from Charlotte just long enough for his gaze to meet the other’s eyes, a look questioning anyone and everyone for answers. Finally, those stormy blue eyes found Charlotte’s once again as he was able to muster the self control to speak.

[color=lightsteelblue]“Lottie?”[/color] Was all he could manage in that first second, but he forced out the rest with a voice that was as desperate as the look in his eyes. [color=lightsteelblue]“Who…Who did this to you?”[/color] His hands continued to softly hold her face in his caress. 

The rate of his heart was out of control, his stomach sunken, and skin crawling with fear for her safety, and a [i]need[/i] to make whoever did this pay as his eyes begged her for an answer. 

The shrill shatter of glass made Charlotte’s shoulders tense up, her head turning toward the sound on instinct. She saw no other than Cassius—running for the gate as though the night itself had given him no other choice. The intense look that had seized his face caused her to furrow her brows—it was as if someone was wrenching at his heart through his ribs.

He was… [i]afraid[/i].

Her attention dropped to the stone behind him, where a dark red spill pooled beside where the wine glass had fallen. The broken glass caught the moonlight in glittering shards. They looked beautiful, in the way something dangerous could technically be.
When she lifted her head again, she found him close enough that there was nowhere to look but into that ethereal gaze of his.

Lottie stared as if she couldn’t quite believe he was here, [i]really here[/i], looking at her, speaking to her… choosing to…  And all as if she mattered, just the same way he had made her feel at the masquerade, under the moonlight, in the Rosegate club, in the castle corridors—

She didn’t pull away. Instead her cheek immediately sank into the warmth of his palm, practically melting into his touch.

For a moment she only watched him: the tremor in his hands, the hitch in his voice, as if he’d been holding his breath for hours and only now remembered how to breathe. Tears slipped free down her cheeks; she couldn’t hide her own weakness from him… or from herself, not this time. She knew it wouldn’t last. It might as well have been an illusion; whatever had been between them felt like a sick game, and she had no idea why she couldn’t stop playing.

And yet… After a night like she had, Charlotte couldn’t deny herself this—[i]him[/i]. She was still afraid, after all—so afraid it was as if they had never truly left the tavern. And he was the only thing in this world that made her feel safe.

When she finally found her breath again, her lashes fluttered, as though waking.
 [color=D0B4EC]“Bandits… the tavern. They held everyone hostage.”[/color] she whispered.

[color=lightsteelblue]“Hey…”[/color] Cassius murmured, his voice low and unsteady in a way it almost never was. One thumb brushed carefully beneath her eye, sweeping away a tear without smearing the blood there, her cheeks flushing under his touch.  [color=lightsteelblue]“You got out of there… You’re safe now.”[/color]

The word hostage echoed in his mind. The thought of Charlotte trapped somewhere like that, forced to endure the fear and violence, made something vicious twist deep in his chest. He’d faced battlefields without flinching, but imagining her powerless, at the mercy of strangers, stripped the breath from his lungs. It took effort not to let it show…not to let the fury rise and swallow the careful gentleness he wished to offer.

His forehead leaned in just enough that she could feel his breath, warm against the cold of the evening air. His hands stayed reverent despite their trembling and his unraveled demeanor. For a moment his gaze lifted…just briefly… sharp and assessing as it swept the others, counting injuries, reading exhaustion, continuing to process the scale of what they had all just survived…before returning to Charlotte, the rest of the world narrowing back down to her.

[color=lightsteelblue]“You’re all safe now,”[/color] he said softly, forcing steadiness into the words. [color=lightsteelblue]“I’m so damn glad you’re okay…all of you.”[/color] His thumb lingered at her cheek, a silent reassurance before he drew a careful breath. [color=lightsteelblue]“Let’s get you home, Lottie. Let’s get you all inside.”[/color]

His eyes held hers, earnest and protective.

[color=lightsteelblue]“I’ll come with you,”[/color] he added gently. [color=lightsteelblue]“You can tell me everything there. It’s probably for the best that we get the least amount of eyes on you all as we can.”[/color]

Captain Durmand had only stopped because of the way this man seemed to affect Charlotte. The young lady hid it poorly, in her state. Falling back to her old training as a guard, she made herself just a fly on the wall, even as she continued to shoulder some of Lady Vikena’s balance. This display between them was sweet and everything, but as Lord Cassius put it himself, it would be best to get the least amount of eyes on them.


[i]You.[/i]

Her expression didn’t betray her long or much as she checked behind them with the purposeful slowness of a bodyguard. Her expression didn’t betray her, but her tone reflected her rising concern,[color=peru] “yes, quickly.”[/color]

As she kept repeating, in her mind, Giddeon’s choice to avoid [i]her[/i] name [i]specifically[/i], Stratya began to realize just how bad for her this was. If she wasn’t careful, it might not end with her. Her urgent gaze came forward to meet with Cassius’ as her gentle touch drove Charlotte forward. She did not use her left hand, but her wrist, at Charlotte’s hip, while her right hand took her shoulder.

The crack of the glass hitting the stone had snapped Kazumin out of his tunnel vision. His shoulders jumped in reaction, and his body turned on instinct. He then drew Olivia tighter against his chest protectively as he shifted to put himself between her and the sound. He scanned the street like he expected someone to come bolting out of the dark, pulse thudding hard enough to feel in his throat.

Then he caught sight of Cassius coming out from the gate, hands already on Charlotte’s face like she was something precious and breakable, panic written all over him. It knocked a little air back into Kazumin’s lungs. She was hurt, aye—but she wasn’t alone. Not right now. He swallowed hard, the tightness in his chest easing just enough to remember the captain’s urgency. [color=limegreen]“Aye,”[/color] he said, low and hoarse, half to Stratya and half to himself. [color=limegreen]“We keep movin’.”[/color]

His gaze dropped to Olivia again and the relief didn’t follow. She was trembling; she was too weak, too pale. The sight of her wrecked him in a way he didn’t have time to unpack. He wanted to ask what happened, what she’d done, what they’d done to her… and still, he didn’t believe for a second she’d reached for that kind of power without a reason. Not Percy. Not the girl he knew. But Cassius’s urgency and Stratya’s pace said the same thing: later. Olivia wasn’t in any state to explain, and Kazumin wasn’t sure his chest could take hearing it right now, either.

His eyes traveled across her face and the corners of his lips flickered upward, because even like this, she looked oddly content in his arms, like she’d finally found one quiet place in the whole bloody night. Warmth spread through him, chasing some of the panic out, and he lowered his head to brush his cheek to her hair, careful of the way she winced when he shifted. [color=limegreen]“I got your back, Percy,”[/color] he murmured for only her to hear, voice muffled into her hair. His hand tightened at her shoulder, protective without thinking. [i][color=limegreen]“Always.”[/color][/i]

As they started to finally move forward together, a grim flash cut through his thoughts: dark magic snapping, Marius on the floor. He had always known Percy was powerful, but he was afraid of what that power now would cost her… and how fast the witch hunters would come running when they smelled blood in the water. Kazumin wasn’t willing to lose her; he wouldn’t give her up for anything. It was another topic he wanted to talk to her about, but for now he swallowed it down, nodded an awkward little agreement he didn’t quite know how to voice, and followed after them, holding her close like the night might try to steal her back if he blinked.[/color]