Chapitre 28: Chapter 28
Before long, the deadline that Cassandra had set for the Deputy Guild Master, Baxter, approached swiftly, creating a palpable tension in the air. Once again, she found herself seated in the same private room of the restaurant where she had first encountered Baxter. The atmosphere was charged with unspoken anticipation, and the walls seemed to echo the weight of the decisions that loomed ahead.
At her side stood one of the children from the slums whom she had taken under her wing. This particular boy, tall and coltish, appeared to be around thirteen years of age. His tan skin glistened slightly in the dim light of the room, and a sword was strapped to his belt, a serious expression etched on his youthful face. His straight, dark blonde hair was cropped short, framing a round face adorned with well-defined cheekbones and wide, dark blue eyes that held a mixture of determination and uncertainty.
Since their first meeting, he had noticeably changed; he seemed to have gained weight, which had given him broader hips, and his arms had developed more muscle, a testament to the rigorous training he had undergone with the knights at the palace. This training had been initiated after they discovered his potential with the sword, a talent that had emerged during one of their impromptu sparring sessions. He had embraced the opportunity, working diligently to refine his skills and transform himself from a boy of the slums into a budding warrior.
Accompanying them was Sir Paeris, the elven knight whom Cassandra had deemed trustworthy. Unlike Sir Kent, who was staunchly loyal to her father and would undoubtedly report any information back to the Emperor. Sir Paeris was known for his discretion and competence, qualities that Cassandra valued immensely at this crucial juncture.
As Cassandra sat there, sipping the tea that had been meticulously prepared for her, an air of caution enveloped the moment. The young man from the slums, whom Cassandra had named Marcel Courtois, was standing vigilantly beside her. In a deliberate act of precaution against any potential poisoning, he had taken a sip of the tea before she did, demonstrating a fierce loyalty he developed after being taken in by the princess.
In the doorway stood two figures: Baxter being accompanied by a tanned-skinned woman who was striking yet seemed weary. At just 5'1", her blue eyes bore signs of fatigue, and her defined cheekbones added a certain sharpness to her otherwise lean face. Her coiled, salt-and-pepper hair appeared unruly, cascading down to the back of her thin neck like wild vines.
Cassandra's gaze fell upon the woman, who entered the room with a box in hand. However, it wasn't the box that captured her interest; it was the woman herself. Cassandra remembered her vividly from her dreams—Melissa Weaver, a talented human adept at makeup and creating intricate disguises. The current visage that Melissa had donned was not her true face, yet Cassandra recognised her immediately; this particular appearance was one of Melissa's favourites, one she had often seen in her dreams.
As the pair walked past the trio, Baxter casually sat on the couch while Melissa remained standing behind it, still gripping the box tightly. "I greet her imperial highness." Baxter said, bowing his head respectfully. Melissa followed suit, their gestures a sign of deference.
"Raise." Cassandra commanded, eager to cut through the formalities and dive straight into the pressing matter at hand. "What have you decided on?" She asked, her tone devoid of hesitation or small talk, her focus unwavering.
"This is my decision." Baxter declared, as Melissa gently placed the box onto the table that lay between them. The room fell silent, all eyes fixated on the ominous box, which the woman began to open. As the lid was slowly removed, Sir Paeris' and Marcel's expressions morphed into a blend of shock and horror, their eyes widening in disbelief at the gruesome sight within. Inside the box lay the severed head of a man, a grim trophy. "This is the head belonging to the former Guild Master." Baxter announced, his voice steady despite the macabre revelation. The weight of the moment hung heavily in the air, foreshadowing the dire implications of this dark decision.
At the moment Sir Paeris and Marcel were about to grab their swords as to attack. Just as they were about to take action, Cassandra simply raised her hand up as a motion to stop them. Despite the grotesque thing sitting before her, the young girl didn't even flinch, her expression resolute and unwavering.
"It appears you held up your end of the deal." Her voice was steady, betraying not the slightest hint of concern or fear at the severed head resting in the box. With a casual flick of her wrist, she motioned for Sir Paeris to remove the revolting box from her sight, his face grim as he complied.
"Bring them in." Cassandra's voice cut through the tense atmosphere. She then glanced over at Marcel, who stood by the door, and he nodded before heading out of the room to fetch the others. A few moments later, the heavy doors swung open, and Baxter stood up, his eyes widening in shock as he watched three figures enter the room. One of them was Marcel, and beside him was Milo, who was gently pushing the third person in a wheelchair. The one sitting in the wheelchair…
"Daddy." The voice was soft yet filled with a sense of urgency. It belonged to a girl with bright green hair, a striking feature that immediately caught Baxter's attention. She possessed a beauty mark located just below his lower lip. However, unlike two months ago when he had last seen her, this girl was no longer a child. She had transformed into a teenager, her appearance now resembling that of a fifteen-year-old.
"Lizzy!" Baxter exclaimed, his heart racing. He ran over to her as if they were the only people in the world, oblivious to the chaos surrounding them. His arms wrapped around her, enveloping the young girl sitting in the wheelchair in a warm embrace. It was a moment filled with joy and relief, a temporary escape from the grim reality they faced. In that instant, all the horror and darkness faded away, leaving only the bond between father and daughter, unbreakable and pure
That was until Milo had coughed, clearing his thought. "She's not completely healed yet." Much like the young girl, he seemed to have changed significantly in the past two months. He went from being a nervous wreck, stumbling over his own words, to a man who actually looked and sounded like a professional doctor. Which, of course, he was now. "Her condition had been quite severe; however, as long as she continues to take the medication that was created, she should be completely cured in a year." This vital information had been thoroughly explained to him by the medical team, and he felt a swell of pride knowing he had played a role in her recovery.
"Yes! And during that year, her highness is allowing me to take lessons!" The green-haired girl spoke, excitement radiating through her entire face, illuminating her eyes with a sparkle that seemed almost contagious.
Hearing this delight in his daughter's voice and the news about her condition caused Baxter to stand back up, his heart racing with determination. He turned back to Cassandra, his expression serious as he walked over to her, resolute in his intentions.
"I, Baxter Ruggles, swear my undying loyalty towards Cassandra Annabel Albuquerque, not merely as a princess but as my master and savior." The man knelt before her, his head lowered in a gesture that resembled a knight pleading for mercy, yet it was filled with respect and admiration towards the small girl sitting before him.
"Then I'll give your first tasks." Finally, the first pieces of her grand plan had fallen into her hands. Now, all she needed was to find and gather the other crucial pieces to initiate the process of shifting the world in the direction she desired. It was not just a matter of ambition; she felt a deep-rooted need to save both her family and world from looming destruction, and she was ready to do whatever it took to achieve that.
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État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
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Power Stone 
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