Capítulo 92: 'Too much'

Rage warmed up the duke's rather icy stares.

"You're the one stirring a commotion. How dare you show your face here? I already told you that you don't have to come. If we found her, you would know."

"If you didn't want me to come here, you shouldn't have told me in the first place."

"That was not the reason I came to you. And I didn't tell you anything, I only asked where your damn wife is!" A muscle feathered in Vernon's face as he tried to contain his anger.

Against Vance's order to not involve the palace about Amelia's disappearance, Vernon went to Augustine to ask if the empress was around or did she already travelled to one of her vacation houses for Fyssus. One question led to another and then another until before he knew it, he was already discussing the details leading to Amelia's kidnapping as he heard from Alexander and others who saw her last.

It was a dumb move. A very dumb move, but he was desperate. A day already passed then and there were still no traces of Amelia. Alexander had been toiling and blaming himself at the same time, looking for her all over the place like a madman. Vance had gone somewhere with Stanwinx. His son brought a select personal guards with him to look for Amelia. Reignold has mobilized his men, but he figured that if even the elite of the elite Felfords men couldn't find her, then she must've been somewhere out of reach.

She might not even be in Creador anymore.

George Walton's not that smart. And the others would surely leave a trace for them to follow. The only one he could think of with that much power was the empress because the emperor was out of the question in the first place.

"Vance will kill you." Augustine studied the duke and after a while laughed.

He loosened his grip on his shoulders and patted it, saying, "It's nice to be out of the palace for once, my friend." Another short laugh for show. "Let's be on our way inside now." Vernon's feet were heavy as the eyes that welcome him back crash violently on him.

*****

He knew Elias must be strong being a commander at his age and living as that muscle head's son, but Vance didn't know he was this strong. He barely budged from the door, and with Reignold's death grip grabbing his wrist, he surely wouldn't be able to get out if he doesn't have some kind of tactic—or it must be the old age?

Vance must admit that he's not as agile anymore to be called Pradour's God of War.

"Nothing good comes from rage. Let your anger simmer down before we let you out."

"What are you, a philosophical priest? I saw you beat up a few men searching for your grandson, so don't tell me to simmer down." Vance said between gritted teeth, but the two men refused to back down.

The old advisor stared down at Elias, threatened him, humiliate him verbally even, but his words came out the other ear. Vernon must be proud of this son of his.

"Until when are you going to blindly follow you father's orders?" He coaxed at his pride.

"Even if my father didn't tell me to, I would've prevented you to leave this room just the same. I saw that face of yours twisted at the sight of the emperor's flag. By then I knew that letting you leave this room would pose an even bigger problem. You wouldn't want to spew matters of treason on the emperor's face now, would you?" Elias was slightly taller than him, and slightly wider in frame. As he looked down at Vance during his speech, there was an air of authority that the advisor—though this didn't seem like the time for it—almost applauded him for.

A cool mind and firm stance—fitting for a duke.

"Treason, treason, treason! That's all I've heard you say this whole time." Vance closed in on him. "Tell me, huh, are you Augustine's loyal dog? I thought your father taught you well."

"I just don't want Amelia to lose another one of her family just because he couldn't control his temper." Instead of Vance playing mind games with Elias until he gave in, it was the other way around.

With a snarl, Vance walked away from the door and paced back and forth, back and forth, until the carpet below him thinned out.

Elias was right, but how could he calm down? His muscles tensed and his heart raced. The rage just kept building and building up inside of him. Without someone or something to lash on, he knew in himself that he's bound to open up the gates of hell sooner than later.

But no, he must be rational.

Vance walked past Reignold towards the desk. He took a key from one of the drawers to open a small locked one.

Long silver locks and cool blue eyes—the small portrait hidden in the locked drawer didn't capture her charming yet sort of child-like, innocent, smile.

When she first came to Creador, Priscilla was hopeful… excited to be out of her father's constant watch. Vance had raised her as his own and away from the public eyes until she was old enough to understand his reminders and warnings. He had been gone most of the time conquering kingdoms for the emperor, but he stopped when his sister died soon after giving birth.

Vance closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Reminiscing the past only fueled his resentment to the emperor who took away the lightness of her steps. And that resentment took shape when a familiar voice reached his ears.

*****

It all happened so fast.

One second the emperor arrived towing a displeased Duke Mulford behind, then by the next, a ceramic vase shattered upon hitting the floor and Vance was pinning Augustine on the wall, his hands grabbed a fistful of the emperor's cloak.

"You're not welcome here." Vance gritted his teeth.

"I... I, ack, I am here to help... Vance."

"We don't need your help." He said in a low, almost a whisper that only those close to the two heard, as he tightened his old of the emperor.

Vernon was beside Vance, Alexander on the other. Elias dismissed some servants trying to witness the commotion. Maude had ordered her daughter and Arabella to leave and secure the area so that as much as possible, no wandering eyes with open mouths saw what's happening, and Stanwinx was quick to tell the knights to stand guard outside and block the view.

"Vance, I—" Augustine gasped as Vance repositioned his arm and placed it above his chest, almost gagging him, his free hand, pinning the emperor's other arm.

"Vance, let August go." Vernon steadied his voice, his hand on the advisor's shoulder.

"The last time you were here, didn't I tell you that if you ever set foot past this threshold again, your head would roll out the door?" Vance snarled.

"My intentions are clean. I… I'm j-just here to help." Worried voices filled the advisor's ears but none of them could convince him to do otherwise.

None.

"If you want to help, then stay the fuck out of my granddaughter's life!" Every letter, every word incited with so much emotion that Vance was visibly trembling.

In the struggle to free himself, Augustine gathered his strength and forced Vance's arm away from him, saying, "She's my daughter, Vance! How do you expect me to stay away?!" his voice bounced off the wall and the clock stopped.

No one spoke, no one swallowed. No one moved as much as a muscle. Even breathing seemed difficult.

Did they hear the emperor right? Whose daughter was he talking about? His?

While the others were too astounded to speak, Vance's face hardened. His eyes warped into the endless darkness of the underworld, a vortex of emotions swirling inside of him. He tried to still his rage. Not now, he kept telling himself. But it was too much.

Too much.

His sister's gone. His niece is gone… and now, his granddaughter too?

Vance felt a jolt of rage ran from the soles of his feet up to his spine. Blinded by the resentment clouding above him, his hardened fist made contact to the side of the emperor's face and Augustine fell on the floor in a loud thud.

"She's Nathaniel's daughter. Not yours!" Rage pulsed through Vance's veins as he attempted to follow the emperor on the floor, but two pairs of strong arms held him.

"She's mine, Vance." Augustine got up with Vernon's help. Though still a little wobbly from the impact of the advisor's blow, he spat out the blood that had pooled in his mouth onto the carpet. "Whether you admit it to yourself or not…" he inhaled sharply, brushing his thumb on the cut on the side of his lower lip. "… it is my blood that runs through her."

"No," Vance shook his head, his voice steady, but hard, "She's not yours Augustine. Amelia is Priscilla's daughter, and Nathaniel is the father who raised her. You…" he fisted his hands again, fighting back the urge to lurch onto him and do something even more drastic. "You're nothing but a piece of mistake who can't keep it in his pants." He said between gritted teeth. "I should've just killed that wretched woman of yours when I had the chance. Watch her writhe in pain and scream to nothingness as the fire slowly took her remaining hope for life, then I'd save her, only to do it over and over and over again." He smirked as he watched the emperor's face twisted. "I should've at least burnt a part of her as a reminder of what she did to my niece instead of leaving her crippled."

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