Chapter 40 Yes, Adrian Can Laugh. How Infuriating
Adrian looked slightly uncomfortable, the first true emotion that wasn't disgust, irritation or annoyance. PROGRESS. “I… I said that only because I believed it was important, though I am no longer certain. It seems you have another plan, even after what had just happened. Which also means you had some form of control or idea it would happen. Why would you do that to yourself?”
“I didn’t this time. I genuinely was sure that I was going to die— don’t stop moving, dear. They might not kill us but the last thing we need is them butting into our business. They already do not like you.”
“We could kill them.”
“And waste my future workforce? You would have to kill me first.”
Adrian realized for the first time in a long time that he did not like that statement.
He did not like seeing her walk after what happened. He wondered what would happen if he carried her. He wondered if she would fight him. Or scream. He wondered how he could keep in a ball and keep her from trying to run away again.
He stopped wondering for a second. “How are you feeling?”
“Good. Better.” Maeve looked around. “It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me now. You can tell me later. Well, not too late, hopefully. I would rather we wrap this up as quickly as possible. Are you hungry? I think we should get something.”
Adrian knew there was nothing he could say.
They moved to a stall with an elf behind it. It was clear the woman wasn’t exactly alright with their presence but Maeve didn’t mind. In fact, she stared around at the things the woman had presented then got two things that looked like sweets though they were both on sticks.
When she was done, she brought out something from her pocket… something pearl-like— a mana stone she had taken that one time which Adrian instantly recognized though he said nothing as she handed it over to the elf woman.
At first, she looked like she couldn’t trust her… but then ever so slowly, she stretched out her hand, letting the pearl looking stone fall into hers. Adrian watched confusion spread through her face, then shock as her eyes moved to Maeve.
Maeve, on the other hand, was no longer looking at her, but at him with one stick out. “Have you ever heard of a science experiment?”
Adrian stared at the stick. “That would be unsafe to eat. The circumstances—”
“Elves are particular about their health at the moment so this is as clean as it gets, pretty boy. Plus, it doesn’t even sound far fetched that you might be a germophobe. Or someone with OCD. Do you ever find yourself doing things repetitively that you need not do in fear that something would go wrong if you don’t do said things,”
“… I remember the reason I am here is to guard you and not answer your strange questions.”
Maeve grinned and placed the stick in his hand. Surprisingly, he took it even though he kept his glare fixed on her as she took a bite out of hers. She hummed, nudging her head towards him to try his out.
He did not want to. He could say that.
Maeve’s kind eyes formed a cruel grin.
He bit into the sweet.
The taste was… bland. Empty. There wasn’t anything sweet or sour about it in particular that could be worth notice.
Yet… when he looked up at her, she was still chewing on that stick. She had a smile on her face— too wide a smile. And he realized she was still chewing on the same bite she had taken. Which meant… which meant she was suffering…
Adrian… Adrian felt something grow in his chest. He did not know what it was. He couldn’t have… but when he raised his head up, there was a clear sleazy smile showing on his face.
Maeve’s jaw hurt as she chewed but she didn’t stop. Even if she could feel her throat threatening to close for eternity and her heart swearing it would stop if she swallowed it down, she did her best and turned to face the woman, "Filled me right up. Thank you. We will be on our way now,”
She had her arm around Adrian, pulling him away before he could react. “Seemed like you’re sadistic. Who would have thought?”
“Was it truly that bad for you?”
“Yes.”
Adrian looked like he wanted to chuckle. Maeve sent him another glare, then minutes after, stared around and asked quietly, “You notice it, don’t you?”
The Duke gave a nod.
There were no birds. Or sounds of life from other animals. It seemed almost as if the entire place was lively and bubbly for a reason— like it was trying to hide something. Or someone.
“Thank you for not harming anyone. I was… certain you would do so.”
“Why?”
Adrian expected her to say it was because of what had happened in the past when they first brought Amir back to Aeltherra, or the way he had cruelly hurt the people here before.
She said instead, “I know you care for me… in your own way. And you are more actions than words. So you not harming a single person proves you trust me. In your own way. Which is why I am bringing you here. Because I would like to exchange some level of trust with you as well,”
They had walked further away from the main gathering of the people at Satyr. They could hear the music, and the loud hooting of the elves as they danced and sang, but right here where they were, they were trees growing wildly.
They grew too close together here, their trunks bending at odd angles, roots breaking the surface like knuckles pressing through skin. The air was colder. Thicker. The laughter from Satyr was also slowly dulling into something distant and warped, as if filtered through water.
Adrian’s hand moved to his sword.
Maeve let go of him, even though she could tell he had no true desires to let her go— and moved further. He watched her, his eyes never leaving her for a second before he watched her stop three inches away, it seemed like her eyes were focused on something else.
He noticed it as well.
Adrian, for years, had learned the smell of blood to his displeasure. It was how he could pinpoint beasts easily, no matter where they came from, but this time, the smell was so terrible and pungent that he knew somehow, whatever this thing was, was not something to toy with. “Isabella—!”
He stopped as he watched her lift her hand up, his eyes falling on the blood trickling down her hand and when he heard her say in a voice he didn’t know she could use— so soft he knew it was supposed to be an intimate moment between the thing and her, “Come, Amir,”