Legend | Celeste Academy Series BK #2

Chapter 24 ♕ The Lady of Loquin

Gigantic doors cracked open with a startling boom, revealing an opulent ballroom that glimmered under the shine of the chandelier than hang from its domed ceiling. Flickering black eyes scanned the room, searching for any sign of a vibrant peach-colored summer dress. It raked through the marbled floors and up the curvy staircase that widened at the bottom and narrowed on top.

"Milady? Are you here, milady?"

His calls went unheard, simply bouncing off the walls and coming back to him. With a disappointed sigh, he turned his back to leave, but paused when joyful laughter reached his ears. He entered the ballroom, looking around to find the origin of the sound.

He walked towards the wide windows and looked out. There, he found the person he had been looking for. Breathing out loudly, he called out through the opening, "Milady!"

The figure turned, holding a stem of a budding rose between her fingers. "Faolan!" She exclaimed in excitement. "The roses are blooming now, see?" She held up the flower to show it to him.

He smiled, flashing his slightly pointed teeth. "Yes, I see that, milady. But, I'm afraid I have to ruin your fun for a few moments."

Her face fell. "What is it?"

"Someone penetrated the city. I hope you know what that means."

She frowned. "I thought your security was doing their job!"

"They did." He said.

Her hands clenched around the flower. "Where are they—ah!" The rose fell and landed on the floor, causing a few of its petals to scatter upon impact.

"Lady Asthore!" He jumped out from the window skillfully, landing on the pavement with a gentle thump. He ran towards the girl and took her bleeding hands into his, sighing at her carelessness. "Although Roses are beautiful, they are full of thorns."

Asthore's eyes welled up with unshed tears as she gazed at the broken skin on her palm. Faolan, on the other hand, pulled the gloves off of his hands to prevent it from being further stained by blood. He pulled out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wrapped her dainty hands with it.

"This should do for now. Please refrain from handling these flowers anymore if I am not here." He told her, referring to the beautifully blooming bushes before them. "You and your carelessness . . ."

"I don't want them anymore." She whispered, seeing blood well up from her wounds.

"Milady?"

"I don't want them anymore!" She yelled at him. Anger pulled the corners of her lips down. Her face flushed pink and brows creased.

"But, Lady Asthore," Faolan began. "You said that you—"

She huffed. "I don't like them now." She narrowed her eyes at the flowers around them. "They're useless! They aren't pretty at all!"

"Lady Asthore, I do not think that you should make rash decisions—"

"I don't want to see them, Faolan." Asthore told him, lips tight and voice thick with anger. "Make them die."

Faolan stared at the thick, brown mane that fell on her shoulders, how it fell loosely in large curls and shone with a unique gloss. Her fair skin, not far from the color of snow, complemented the icy color of blue of her round, innocent eyes. Her lips were pink and formed a small pout of frustration. The look that she shot his way made him unable to resist.

It is scary. He thought. How willing she is to dispose of something immediately if it does not please her.

"Milady . . . just when I finally managed to get you to let the flowers bloom." He trailed off. "So shall it be."

Asthore brushed past him and left him standing alone. He inhaled the fresh scent of spring, eyeing the beauty of greens, yellows, and reds filling his vision. The refreshing atmosphere that engulfed him made the man all the more guilty of what he was about to do.

"Faolan!" His lady's voice yelled.

Hearing her call, he turned, flashing his black eyes while the breeze played with his raven-black hair. "I'm coming, Your Grace."

As he walked past the plants that bloomed on the sides, they wilted. The previously lively garden turned brown and yellow, death eating away at every leaf until nothing was left.

As he followed her through the door that led into her home, he stared at her regal form sophisticatedly making her way in. Chin raised, chest out, back straight—nothing unusual for her for she was brought up doing the same thing every day. She was a child born into a noble family.

"Tell me, Faolan." Asthore said. "Who are these intruders you speak of?"

"I recognize a few of them." He answered. "They are not just any intruders. If before, the soldiers of Prelurésia attempted to enter, it is a member of the Evereeshas herself who came this time. And she brought companions."

"Who?" Asthore looked at him, narrowing her eyes. "You mean the higher family attempts to break into the city this time? I thought we already made it clear that we are no longer making Loquin a part of Prelurésia."

"I do not think they still get the idea." Faolan replied.

"If Lady Courtney is here," Asthore paused. "Then that must mean she brought someone formidable with her."

"Quite right." He sighed. "Somehow, they were able to overcome the undead army I put up."

"Then, they must be disposed of." She broke through one of the doors and entered brusquely, leaving it open for Faolan to walk through as she padded across the room and made herself comfortable in an armchair.

Faolan made his way inside, closing the door behind him gently. "What do you wish for us to do?"

Asthore eyed him. "Show them to me."

He touched the small mirror sitting on top of the table before them and images flashed on its smooth surface.

Asthore disinterestedly watched the group fight off the 'skeleton zombies', as Valeriana called them, and was about to ask Faolan to stop it when she caught a flash of blond hair and fierce green eyes.

"Wait!" She exclaimed, her back straightening unnaturally. "Who's that?"

Faolan eyed the figure his lady was pointing to. "Lord Corvan of Arlandia."

"He's . . ." Her wide eyes softened and she started giggling to herself. "He's really . . ."

Black eyes widened. "You cannot be—"

Asthore jumped from her seat excitedly. "I like him! Handsome, charming . . . powerful! Oh, but that one's cute, as well." She pointed at Rowe with a judging smile. "The one with the glasses is sort of . . . scholar-y." She waved her hands to express her thoughts.

"Milady . . ." He said, but was ignored.

"Oh, I love that blue hair!" She exclaimed. "And, um . . . isn't that boy a bit impassive? But I like it. Oh! And he's good with the bow! Wonderful!" She muttered, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Mmm? All of them are wonderful! Just wonderful!"

The way she was bouncing in excitement pushed Faolan to his limits. His black eyes flickered with resentment as he watched his lady fawn over guys she obviously hadn't met in person. Still, watching them through the mirror made him frown.

They wouldn't be an easy prey.

"Faolan!" Asthore beamed. "You know what I want."

"Lady Asthore." He replied, shaking his head.

As much as he didn't want to, he wouldn't be able to deny the requests of Asthore.

He was here for her, after all.

"Yes, milady."

Her happiness was his.

"Get them for me." She pointed at the mirror. "Preferably all of them, but don't leave out the Arlandian prince."