by CY Jones
“Do you really think so?” he asks, raising a shocked brow. “And you think her mate just allowed her to go off with another man with no questions asked?”
“Well, they are friends. I don’t know the extent of their relationship. Maybe he allowed them to leave together for a particular reason.”
“Enough of that. I’ve heard just what kind of friends she is with the heirs. Who knew I’d be cursed with a daughter with such loose morals? This is what happens when one grows up in a harlequin commune. They think everything is acceptable. I need her here so that I can keep an eye on her. I thought her mate would be able to keep her in check, but I guess I was wrong. Every fucking body around me are weaklings. Even the Hawthrone heir. Find her and bring her back. I don’t care if you have to tie her up kicking or screaming. Do not return without her.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“And, Ruelle, don’t fail me. The Founder’s Day competition will be here quickly. I want to see just the kind of power she wields now that she has the blood of the phoenix mage in her.”
“I understand, my lord. I won’t fail.”
“See that you don’t,” he murmurs just as threateningly as if he would have said the words out loud.
Leaving, I spot the tail end of a little red bird and stealthily follow it, already knowing who it’ll lead me to. Waiting on the roof is Zion and beside him the Gouchie I often catch tailing Morganstein. “You might want to instruct your little bird to be more careful when he’s snooping before he becomes the meat for my uncle’s stew,” I say appearing before them.
His eyes laser in on me, red rimmed and stressed. He’s been dealing with the fallout of Angelica leaving with his good buddy and their efforts to quill the rumors. Intimidation and mass-murdering can only go so far. Turning back into bird form, the Gouchie flys away with a loud squawk.
“I should have known it was you. Now that Angelica is gone, you’re sniffing around me. Well, I don’t know where she is, so don’t ask me.”
“I’m quite sure that’s a lie, and you know exactly where she is, but lucky for you, I’m not here to ask you about her whereabouts.”
“Then why are you here?” he questions.
“To warn you. I don’t like you. In fact, I’d love to kill you right now, but I’m fond of the girl, and she likes you, so I won’t touch you for now, but a word of advice. You’re only alive because Morganstein deems you so. As soon as you become a liability or he simply gets bored with you, he will see that you’re taken out. You need to get a lock on the girl and a firm one, or you will no longer be useful to my lord, and if that happens, then you’re worm meat. You don’t have to believe my words or listen to them, but a wise man heeds all warnings. Better find her before I do, or it’ll be your bones joining your bird in Uncle’s stew. Ever seen a mage drained of all their power until they’re nothing but a wrinkled husk? I have and it’s not pretty. In fact, I hear it’s the fate Angelica’s mother suffered. If he could do that to his own mate, he’ll certainly do it to his daughter’s.”
With that graphic warning, I leave, hoping I put the fear in his bones. Warning him may have hurt me since I was the one ordered to bring the girl back, but if I follow him, he’ll lead me to Angelica faster without any real work on my part, and then I’ll snatch her away. Why work harder than you have to?
Chapter 23
Angelica
With reluctance, I wake knowing what the day holds for me. To prepare, I must have been given the morning off since breakfast was served in my room, but once I was done eating, Yuki met me at the door to take me to the kitchens where he said Madame was already waiting.
“Where’s Kirito? I thought I’d see him at least once this morning,” I ask, curious.
“Him and his father left early, around dawn, for a hunt. They probably won’t be back until lunch or early evening at the latest,” he answers.
“What?” I shout. Did he really just abandon me with his mother? A woman who hates me and would love to see me disappear from their life forever?
Reading the enraged look on my face, he hurries and replies, “I think they did it to give you and Madame time alone to get to know one another.”
“I don’t care about their reasons,” I grumble. Asking us to get along on our own is a little much, don’t they think? I should have known Kirito’s father was some kind of mastermind. This little cooking lesson is just a set up. Calming my anger, I breathe in deeply and then let the air out. If it helps, then, for Kirito and the sake of our relationship, I can try. I did tell him just last night that he needed to do what he could to follow the rules and please his mother.
The kitchen is large, filled with modern stainless steel appliances and every cooking utensil known to man. I don’t think there’s a pot in here I couldn’t find and it was all so neat and tidy, each having its own place that it made the space even more intimidating. Made even more so by the lady leaning casually against the kitchen island with her arms crossed and haughty look on her pretty face.
In perfectly pressed slacks, a cream silk blouse tucked in, refining her slim waist, designer heels and pearls, she didn’t look like someone who was about to give a teaching lesson. Even her perfectly coiled hair and manicured nails were out of place, but she was here, and I guess if she could put in the effort then so should I.
“While I was waiting, I already took out all the ingredients you’ll need and wrote down the measurements. Normally, I can pour everything from memory, but since this is your first time, you’ll need the notes.”
Taking the list from her, I read everything out loud. Red tail shrimp, flour, salt, corn starch, buttermilk, egg whites, vegetable oil, and a blend of secret spices she’s already compiled for me in a small bowl. “This looks easy enough.” I smile, thanking her for her consideration. Who knew not long after I’d be eating those words?
“You cannot be this hopeless in the kitchen?” Madame shrinks, sounding like she feels more sorry for herself than me after being a witness to such a catastrophe.
“I warned you I was a jinx in the kitchen,” I reply just as exasperated.
“I thought you were just being spoiled and lazy, but this is something else,” she spouts, shaking her head, making the flour covering her flake off to the ground.
From the start, this was a tragedy in the making. While pouring out the ingredients, I either added too much of something or not enough. With her breathing down my neck the whole time, my hands were shaky and I may have lost control of my magic and somehow caused an explosion of flour, which is why we’re both covered in it from head to toe. I also spilled more buttermilk on the counter than in the actual bowl. Egg whites. Hah. Don’t make me laugh. I’d been better off cracking the whole egg in the bowl, shell and all, which is what happened anyways and these were the minor mistakes. With my sad lumpy coated creation, I started a grease fire, nearly burning down the kitchen after the flames spread as the finale, bringing this ill omened cooking lesson to an abrupt end. And even after all that trouble, I had not one shrimp tempura to offer.
“I… I have no words,” she concedes, still in some sort of trance or nightmare.
What can she say? What can I say? This was a disaster. I knew cooking lessons were bad, but I didn’t think I’d actually almost burn the kitchen down. I guess now when said it can’t be taken as a joke but the actual truth. With the kitchen out of commission, Madame had no other choice but to order out until she can get someone in to fix the damage and in a puff of flour, she left me, still shivering in the hall. At least now I won’t have to ever worry about anyone in this family offering me to cook. I have a feeling this story will go down in history.
Dirty and deflated, I find my way back to my room and take a long hot shower. Today was pointless. All I did was prove how unfit I am to be Kirito’s mate. Cooking shouldn’t be this hard. It’s like I was cursed or something.
Changing, I leave, searching for the koi pond near my room that I spotted yesterday on the tour Yuki took me on. The space is
quiet and the perfect place to calm my nerves. Sitting on a large boulder, I dip my finger in the clear water, causing the fish nearby to swim away. They’re all so colorful, pretty, and free. Living a life of leisure with all their needs met. They're forever stuck in this place, never able to leave. I wonder what they think about that? Do they want to leave one day? Would they go if they ever had the chance? Or are they content to live and die here?
Across from me, I hear the thump sound of the bamboo stalk falling from being filled with water from the waterfall stream and rising again before feeling a pair of warm arms circling me. My hair is still wet, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he rests his chin against me.
“So how did it go?” he asks in a singsong voice.
Groaning I mutter, “Don’t act like you don’t already know. It was a disaster, which is why you’re here.”
“That’s not true. I’m here because you’re here.”
I stay silent instead of speaking a brilliant comeback. When his body starts to shake, and I realize it’s because he’s laughing, it takes everything in me to refrain from turning and socking him in the face. “It’s not funny,” I cry.
Wiping the tears from his eyes, he says, “It really is. Here my dad and I were in the hall thinking we’re under attack by some kind of flour monster, and it turns out the culprit in question was my mother. She didn’t even recognize us at first since she was too lost in her head muttering, ‘Never again. Never again’.”
“Where is she now?” I ask, hoping she’s not in the progress of packing my bags. For what I just subjected her to she’d probably do the honors herself.
“She left.”
“Left? Where did she go?” I ask, confused.
“The spa. She said after that she deserves a vacation and not to call on her. I suspect we won’t see her for a couple of days, which means we’re free to do as we want.” Overjoyed, he lifts me fully on his lap, snuggling closer.
“What makes you think that? She still has spies here. And not just people. Little snakes that can chart our every move. Act out while she’s gone, and she’ll take it as an even bigger insult. After what I put her through, it’s better that you behave yourself.”
“Aww, kitten, you’re no fun.”
“Behave,” I threaten, wagging my finger.
With his mother gone, I can breathe easy, but we still have problems. I’m doubtful Kirito’s father will make a decision without her, and after suddenly losing control of my magic today, I’m reminded of a bigger problem. Even without using my powers, they’ll react to my emotions. That’s not good since I’m not an expressionless person. I need to take back control of my body.
“The flour incident was all my fault,” I tell him. “I lost control of my magic. Well, more like I couldn’t hold it in. I wasn’t trying to use my power or anything, but a bowl of flour still exploded all over us.”
“It probably has something to do with your magical circuits. They’re healing and clearing out the damaged and dead cells the poison caused. I’m not surprised your body is acting out.”
“Yeah, but that can’t happen. I need to at least have some sort of control. I also need another way to channel my powers. Just because Zion is feeding me mana doesn’t mean they’re not there. Today proves they’re still alive and kicking, plus this isn’t a long-term solution. Who knows how long it’ll take to fix me. I need to be able to defend myself without worrying about my magic going haywire. Founder’s Day is just around the corner. What am I supposed to do then?”
“I think I can help you with that,” he replies.
“How? I thought the healer said only Zion can help me?”
Maybe those were the wrong words. A dark look crosses his face and he clenches down on his teeth, making a weird grinding sound. “It’s true I can’t feed you mana like he can, but I can still teach you another way to fight.”
“Another way to fight??” I blink twice wondering what the hell is he talking about.
“Yeah, come with me,” he says, pulling me up. I get no other answer, and with no choice, I follow him through the twist and turns of the halls until we enter what looks like a dojo. The room is almost barren with only an altar displaying a wicked looking katana as if it’s being worshipped. Walking across the tatami floors, Kirito picks up the blade and unsheathes it. In the open air, the blade gleams with a spark of light, and I have to take a step back from the wave of power coming off the sharpness of the blade. Hanging from the hilt is a black tassel tied to a jade token that gleams just as bright as the blade.
“What kind of weapon is that?” I ask in awe.
“A magical weapon. It has been in our family from generation to generation. The skills of everyone who has ever wielded this weapon is in this blade. Normally, it’s given to the head-of-the-household in a ceremony, but it was given to me the day I was born because my parents knew I was special and would need it beforehand. With this weapon, you’ll be able to fight.”
“You can’t give me that,” I shout.
“I’ll loan it to you then.”
“Kirito, that’s even worse. This isn’t some random trinket you can pass back and forth. One, it’s a magical item so that in itself makes it rare; secondly, it’s a family heirloom. Your history. Past generations wielded this sword. It’s not meant to be used by the likes of me.”
“It’s a weapon whose purpose is to protect me, and since you are my life, that same purpose extends to you. If you’re worried, I’ve already talked to my father about it, and he’s fine with it. You can use the sword as long as you need it.”
I’m dumbfounded, shocked, speechless all at the same time. This gesture means more than everything to me. “Are you sure?” I whisper and he places the blade in my hands. “I’m sure.”
Until late evening, we practice. Kirito with a shadow katana of his making and me with his family’s sword. I never used a magical item before, but it’s impressive. Like nothing I never felt before. Each fighting skill, though they came from others, was like it was my own. Already being athletic and flexible, it didn’t take long for me to adapt their teachings to my own style, making me a martial art expert overnight. Magic is important but so is technique. If we relied fully on our powers, we’d tire easily. No one, no matter who you are, has an endless well of power.
Actually exercising and moving around also helped with my mental health. Just like Kirito thought, his mother didn’t return, having stayed in a spa in Amsterdam for a whole week. That whole time, we either practiced or I got to know his father better. He even took me to work with him once. All the tech was way over my head, but it was nice to see how his father works with his employees and they were just as happy to see Kirito. As the next head, it’s never too early to kiss the boss’ ass.
It’s when we’re on our way back to the estate when Kirito suggests we do something fun.
“Like what?” I ask.
“Let’s go to my favorite karaoke spot. I used to go there with my friends from school all the time.”
“Sure,” I answer, happily agreeing to something so little that could fill him with so much joy. This little field trip may be for me, but it’s for him too.
Five minutes later, the driver pulls up to a swanky techno looking place and Kirito helps me out of the car. The schools must have let out because the streets are filled with pedestrians, most of them wearing school uniforms I’m used to seeing in animes. When someone calls out Kirito’s name, I look up to a familiar face and three unfamiliar ones, one of which was glaring hostilely at Kirito’s hand, engulfed firmly in mine.
Turning, Kirito greets the newcomers in Japanese with a wide smile on his face. “Yuki-chan, what are you guys up to? Man, it’s been a while.” I wait patiently as they talk. It’s clear these are old friends of his. Maybe it’s in my nature to sense a threat. To know when someone is thirstin’ after my man, because as patiently as I wait for these greetings to come to an end, I don’t miss the glares directed toward me or the subtle touches the only fem
ale in the group bestows on Kirito.
She’s beautiful, of course. Just the kind of girl Kirito's mother would set him up with. Clearly, she’s Japanese with a clear olive complexion and slanted eyes so dark, they resemble precious onyx stones. Her hair is a dark chocolate color, and in the sun, the lighter brown highlights shine like gold. It’s also long to her mid back and perfectly straight and manageable unlike my hair that has to be whipped into shape. She’s the typical cute, short, Asian girl you’re not allowed to hate, and clearly, she’s in love with Kirito. If I wanted to be petty and point out flaws, I’d say her skirt is way too short and her blouse too tight to be part of her school uniform. I even want to find fault in the cute red tie around her neck, but I hold everything in, especially my growls of fuck off.
Oblivious to everything, Kirito waves me over. In English, he tells them who I am and introduces to me who they are. As soon as the word girlfriend leaves his mouth and my name, the girl loses her fake smile and frowns, but Kirito misses that too or maybe he just ignored it. He can’t be that clueless that this girl is into him, can he?
“What brings you guys out?” he asks. Yuki, who also notices the girl’s sudden change in demeanor, is the one who answers. If she only has eyes for Kirito, then Yuki only has eyes for her. It makes for quite the drama, and if I were in the mood, I might be amused.
“Nana-kun won the election for student council president, so we’re all out to celebrate,” Yuki answers.
“Oh, wow! I didn’t know it was that time already. Congrats, I’m sure your parents are proud,” Kirito congratulates her. Her gaze shifts back to his adoringly like he just hung the stars and moon and not congratulated her over some high school office position.
“That is amazing. Was the race a close one?” I ask just to comment.
She ignores me, of course, keeping her eyes glued to Kirito and again, it’s Yuki who answers. “It was close. There’s this other guy in our year that’s really popular, but Nan was able to pull ahead by less than ten votes.”
