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77.64% Bleak Midwinter. / Chapter 65: City of Lost Moon (Ⅲ)

Bab 65: City of Lost Moon (Ⅲ)

A shiver ran down my spine. But I was able to immediately see the source of this. Two people were stationed there as they walked down the stairs and then split to the sides, standing on each side of the giant marbled frame before the stairs.

When Jayden shifted a little from my sight, I was now able to discern the two guards' features.

One figure appeared to be a woman, her apparent demeanour friendly and approachable. Her short, green hair gave her a tomboyish look, but the feminine curves beneath her tight and long dress suggested otherwise.

Standing beside her was another woman with longer green hair and exuding a fiercer aura, her sharp eyes and a scar crossed her left eye adding to her rugged appearance. The only weapons I observed were short daggers secured at their waists. 

They both had medium length black horns that weren't complex. Just straight, dagger like horns without any spiral design or unique colour.

"Welcome back, my lord." The tomboyish woman spoke. "It's a blessing to see you in good health, my lord." She bowed subtly, her voice rough in timber but not lacking in any way when it came to showing genuine respect and worry for her lord.

"Greetings, my lord." The other—scarred woman spoke this time, bowing more deeply. After a while of bowing down, Jayden hummed, causing them to straighten their backs.

The tomboy looked in Aksel's direction and then back at Jayden. "My lord. I see you brought humans…" she paused, "…guests."

"Is that a problem, Harper?" Jayden cocked his head.

"Pff—she's named Harper." Michael breathed a subdued snicker.

"Not at all, my lord." She instantly bowed her head back. "I am merely…" She stopped talking, seemingly unable to formulate words. 

The scarred woman stared at Michael and then looked up at me, sparing only a single glance before looking back at her lord.

"Allow me, my lord." She spoke in a stern tone.

"What is it, Sloane?"

Sloane eased out the single crease in her tight-fit, maid suit.

"Is it really appropriate for humans to be placed in the same chambers where the Young Lords reside?" She asked disapprovingly.

"Of course it is." Jayden waved his hand off.

"But-" She was about to talk again but Jayden raised his hand.

"I am not here to hear advice from you." He spoke with a nonchalant tone, but the cutting edge was still there. Concealed. "Not in front of the guests."

Sloane's chest rose up and her lips pursed. Dipping her head down, she bowed. "As you command, my lord."

Jayden huffed out through his nose. "Harper."

"Yes?"

"Are the rooms appropriately readied?"

The tomboyish girl's sickly green eyes flicked upwards with a rather keen eagerness. "Given the window of time, we have done our absolute best to greet your…guests."

The pauses before guests every time tells me that there is some alternative, loving word for us.

Well, I already know some of it. The elves called me a Mudwalker. It is quite strange and funny at the same time though, given how whenever we want to name someone beneath us, we use the term mud. It's uncreative, but it does the job.

"Good enough." Jayden replied with a satisfied look and then turned back to us. "Harper and Sloane will escort you three to your resting chambers." He spoke as he rubbed the side of his neck.

It was only after focusing heavily that I noticed the small patch of blackened skin. Perhaps from the clash of Technique Deployments.

"As for my new friend, Aksel!" He turned to him. "I have something special arranged for you beside my very own chambers."

"Hah! Now I am excited." Laughing with each other, the two left, leaving us three with the two demon girls. Or women.

"Please, follow us." Sloane spoke, her long green hair that framed her face unmoving.

We followed after the two as we climbed the spiralling stone stairs. It was quite similar to the ones that were in Fjellborg, but except the stifling humidity there, the temperature in this staircase was well regulated.

I suppose it must be because it is above the ground surface.

As we climbed, I kept my senses on high alert. I could even feel Michael and Astrid's concealed uneasiness seep into me.

As we reached the top, the vastness of the floor surprised me.

It stretched out endlessly, with corridors and rooms branching off in every direction like the spokes of a giant wheel.

One side of the floor was quite lavish, with opulent draperies depicting scenes of ancient battles and royal ceremonies hanging from the high walls.

The floors were covered in soft rugs. Golden candelabras casted a warm, flickering glow that danced on the polished marble floors. The air here smelled faintly of incense and aged wood.

Although not much different, the other half of the floor was somewhat austere.

The walls here were decorated with simpler tapestries. The floors were covered with plain but well-crafted carpets, and the light came from polished brass sconces. The difference was subtle but noticeable, like two parts of the same story told with different emphases.

 

Harper and Sloane took a turn towards the less ornate side after arriving at the cross-section of the floor that divided the two places.

"Since the young masters were recently given this upper floor, only the practical area was renovated for them." Harper explained.

"Hmm." I hummed in response, looking in every direction. There didn't seem to be any hidden doors or traps made for ambush. Surprisingly. Since the exterior of the castle, or fortress, was extremely packed with such things.

"Does this area at least get showers?" Michael asked, his voice croaky.

Both Harper and Sloane looked at each other and then turned back.

"Shower? As in a rain shower?"

"He means bath. Do you have bathtubs?"

It felt like Harper was about to reply excitedly but suppressed it.

"Of course. Once inside, there are bathtubs inside the quarters. A change of clothes will be provided shortly afterwards." She spoke in a formal manner. 

"Damn, imagine not having showers."

After just a minute of talking, Sloane directed Michael away and took him to a room that was inside a corridor right before where Harper led us.

The room was spacious and it was well decorated. Contrary to the first impression when the door was shut. It seems like they actually didn't renovate this place and are not throwing us into a bad place.

However, there seemed to be a problem.

"Where is my room?" I asked. Since she had directed Astrid to enter.

"This is your room." Harper replied, unblinking. "The Lord ordered us to prepare two rooms. One for a human named Michael and the other for a human named Arthur and his mate Astrid. Are you not them?"

"MATE!?"

Hah…not this again. Why are there so many allegations? And why is this the first thing they assume? I can be homosexual for all I care.

"Hmm. Alright. Thanks."

"A change of clothes will arrive soon." Harper said and after casting one…judgemental look at us, left.

A silent hush descended.

I could feel her eyes burn into me.

But after what she said and what I thought, this was the worst time to talk to her. There was also this matter of something weird when it came to her. Something I couldn't put my finger on.

Something you wouldn't feel or consider about someone who is merely your caretaker.

Before she spoke the first words, I moved towards the door.

"Lock the door. Only open to pull your clothes in and don't leave until I tell you to do so." Without looking at her, I spoke and opened it.

"Wait, what? Why are you going?"

Casting a glance over my shoulder, I spoke. "You know, I don't really want to hear you taking a bath."

She flushed slightly, her eyes narrowing with a mix of embarrassment and maybe slight…anger?

"Oh really?" she retorted, clearly both startled and slightly indignant.

"Well, better make myself scarce then," I shot back, backing away slowly. I barely caught her muttered retort.

"Arthur, I want to tal—"

"Later." With that I closed the door behind me.

Maybe my wording was not the best but I shook my head, once again. Now was not the time for all this, I reminded myself before taking off somewhere only somewhat familiar.


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