RFC-Mini Arc 2: Elven Garde-11 (Patreon)

“Who would stalk you!” he shouted.

“Yeah, well, who’d want to be stalked by you!”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Callan snapped. “I didn’t come here for this.”

“No, you came to ogle my wife.”

He paused, meeting her gaze. Callan wouldn’t call the look she gave him intimidating but something about her aura changed. Enough so that he instinctively straightened up, shoulders unconsciously tensing.

“Ah.” Lou held out her hand as Geo returned, setting another tray on the table, this one holding a bottle half-filled with amber liquid and three glasses. The thrall poured it generously, putting the glass in her summoner’s waiting hand. “None for him,” Lou said, the thrall setting down the bottle and sitting next to her. “Alcohol is dehydrating and he’s thirsty enough as it is.”

“You—”

“Shut up for a minute, Mr. Self-Made,” her voice cut him off, the coldness taking Callan by surprise. “Do I look like an idiot to you? Actually, don’t answer that. Last thing I need is another reason to want to kill you or you might actually end us as fertilizer.”

She gulped down half her drink, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before pointing at him. “The point I’m making here is, I’m not an idiot. You think I didn’t notice you perched on the side of the road? There’s only three people you could be here to see. Isn’t me, you’ve made that more than clear. If it was Geneva, you would have tried your luck while I was upstairs. So, that leaves one person.”

She leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “I expect this crap when we go out. It’s annoying having men panting over her, sure, but the saints can’t blame them for having eyes. But to have some skinny, pretty boy without enough shame to pretend he isn’t here to climb through my window ambush me on my doorstep. Fuck.” She downed the rest of her drink and the thrall promptly refilled it, her tail grabbing the bottle agilely. “Honestly, who could blame me for losing my temper?”

“No one,” Geo answered.

“My thoughts exactly.”

That was all the warning he got. Callan had his mouth open, ready to release the torrent of questions he’d been accumulating, when Lou threw her drink in his face. Some of the liquid went into his mouth and he swallowed, immediately hacking as it burned his throat. Eyes watering, he didn’t notice Lou moving toward him until they collided, the couch falling backward.

His hands instinctively came up as he felt a pressure squeezing his throat, clawing at the unexpectedly strong hands. Lou stared down at him unfazed. Even when he progressed to trying to claw her face, she simply tilted her head, looking down her nose at him imperiously. Coldly.

He didn’t know how he had ever thought of her as mundane. No, there was definitely something wrong with the young woman whose expression remained unfazed while wringing the life from him. For the first time, Callan wondered if he had been hasty coming here. What had he expected to do? Insult her into giving up her marriage? Declare his feelings and spirit the elf away to his father’s house? Now he was in a fight for his life, one he was already close to losing.

“You bastard. Who the hell do you think you are? Who the hell do you think I am? Hah? Is the Tome family a joke to you? You think I’m a joke? If those guys can tear a guy apart for crossing their bottom line, no one should care if I crush you right? Useless scum like you who has nothing better to do than chase someone else’s wife won’t be missed, right?”

“S…top,” Callan forced out, vision becoming blurry. He tried to shift his weight but she was immovable. The arms he pounded against might as well be iron bars. Saints save him, he didn’t understand why she was so strong.

“Are you begging for mercy? I’m throttling you and you think I’m a nice person? I should burn your damn face off, you—”

“Lou.”

The pressure on his throat eased and Callan greedily sucked in a breath, eyes shutting as he enjoyed the simple pleasure of breathing. Once he calmed his racing heart a little, he turned to see his savior.

Kierra stood on the staircase in a thin nightgown that showed enough that it drew his whole attention despite his perilous circumstances. Until he felt a smack across his face.

“Where are you looking, asshole?” Lou stood up but Callan didn’t follow. He had read her so wrong. Lourianne Tome. He knew she couldn’t be normal. He never would have thought what set her apart was mental instability and a penchant for sudden violence.

“Kii, if you tell me that lustbag lying on our floor is anything but a nuisance, we are going to have words,” Lou hissed. “I take a lot, and I mean a whole lot, but I swear on Cosmo’s perfect, glossy skin, I’ll…I’ll…” She trailed off into a snarl. “You don’t want me to find out what I’ll do.”

“No need to worry, dedia.” Kierra finished descending the stairs. She glided toward her, never sparing Callan a glance as she wrapped her arms around Lou’s neck. “He is an amusement. And a present for you, my love.”

“Present?” Lou looked at Callan. He glared back, his anger managing to hold back his apprehension as he witnessed their affection. “I’d prefer a puppy over a dog.”

“I didn’t know you were fond of hounds.”

“Eh. Cloud took me to see some monster pups. Adorable.”

“I wouldn’t mind a stable of royal hounds. They’d make a fun project.”

“Aren’t those the things you had chase us on my first day here?”

“Mm. I wonder if we have the pet play with them, will they strengthen their mental affinity? So many interesting things to try.”

“Ah, well, I don’t mind. Servants will be wrangling them for the most part. Geneva’s already done wonders with Anna…and now I’m a little disgusted with myself for not just thinking that but saying it out loud. Ugh.”

Worse than being ignored, it was as if Callan didn’t exist when the two stared at each other, talking happily despite his near death. He felt…insignificant. Something he hadn’t felt since his face was burned. It prompted him to get to his feet. “Kierra…”

“Quiet for a moment, Atty,” she replied without looking at him. “You remember I said I wanted to cultivate your personal force?”

“Ah. He’s one you have your eye on?”

At the same time, Callan blurted out, “What?”

“Mm. He’s not making the best impression now but he’s clever enough. And vicious.”

“Just your type, huh?” Lou snorts, peering at Callan over Kierra’s shoulder. Then she backed up, dropping on the couch. Kierra was dragged along, happily settling on her lap. “You really want this one?”

“Lou, he’s a gift for you.”

“So, it’s up to me.”

Callan was spiraling as the dark eyes settled on him. Too much was happening at once and he couldn’t understand any of it. He needed time to get his head on straight, sort out his emotions. “I’m going,” he said stiffly.

To which she laughed. “I swear, you must be the most arrogant bastard in the Hall. You think you can just leave?” Her gaze promised another round of violence but softened when Kierra started playing with her hair. “Haaah, fine. What can you do?”

“I’m not working for you,” he said.

“If you’re not working for me, there’s no reason not to break your legs then.”

“You wouldn’t.” He was taken by surprise earlier but a noble trying to browbeat him was nothing new. “The Hall won’t permit violence.” Protecting himself with the equivalent of telling the grown-ups on a bully rankled his already bruised pride but there was little else he could do. She was an initiate, a caster, and, if his experience earlier wasn’t a product of rage-induced mania, she was stronger than him physically. The worse opponent.

“The Hall specifically bans unsanctioned duels between its attendees. You’re a, what are you?”

“Carpenter’s apprentice, under his father,” Kierra supplied.

“You’re kidding.” Lou snickered. “Did you think you were going to spirit her away and take her out for a night in the city on your allowance? Lay her down on a bed covered in wood shavings and try to muffle your voices so you don’t wake your parents in the other room? Saints witness, the pair on this kid.”

A vein appeared on the side of Callan’s head as he grit his teeth listening to her laugh. “Where do you get off calling me a kid? You’re younger than me.”

“If I say you’re a kid, you’re a kid. Look, you’re pouting like one.”

“You are a fool!”

“And throwing a tantrum like one.”

“Kierra!” he exploded. “Are you really married to this…this…” Words failed him and he gestured wildly.

Kierra smiled as she looked at him but her chin was caught in a strong grip, her head turned back around. “Nuh-uh. I know what those eyes can do,” Lou said, her finger migrating upward, brushing over the elf’s long lashes. “Kid doesn’t need any more encouragement.”

Kierra obediently closed her eyes. Beside them, the thrall grinned.

Realization clicked in Callan’s mind, the pieces finally forming a complete picture.